Chapter 11

The Bitch

Later that same morning, Raylan forwent the traffic and took a cab from his hotel to the Courthouse at 3rd and Constitution. After going through Security, he was directed to Assistant Director Goodall's temporary office up on the 2nd floor.

"Karen," he said, upon entering the lion's den, closing the door behind him. "Before ya' say anything, I can explain," he began in an attempt to beat her to the punch.

"You look good," the Assistant Director deflected him with an inviting smile. Fully aware of the meeting she called with Raylan, Karen Goodall made sure to wear one of her more form fitting suits, complete with a clingy, pencil skirt and a hemline that showcased her still fabulous legs.

"As do you," Raylan said, removing the Stetson from his head out of respect. He would have to be a blind man not to notice the dangerous curves on this woman.

Placing her hands on her hips, Goodall instantly switched modes from Raylan's former lover to his Assistant Director. "What could you possibly have to say that would justify using my password to hack into FEMA's site?"

He answered, flashing a grin, "Ya' shoulda changed your password long before now?"

While angry with her marshal, she always did appreciate his quick wit and memorable skill in the bedroom. "While that may be true and trust me, it has since been changed . . . Why'd you do it, Raylan?"

"Hey, I was just as shocked that your password was still good as you probably were that I remembered it," he shrugged his shoulders.

Goodall's steely glare showed him she was no longer amused.

Still standing near the door, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Okay. Truth? You may have heard my father, Arlo, died in prison not long ago."

"I did hear something," she said, leaning back on her desk. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Don't be," he sighed. "Anyways, I recently came into possession of some family items, includin' the family Bible. In it, there was an entry for a younger sister I never knew about. Two years younger than me." He went on. "I investigated as best I could in Harlan County with the little family I have left, and I got some information that the baby girl was privately adopted to a family in New Orleans. A closed adoption through a Catholic parish."

"But the family that you traced is African-American," she stated, confused.

"Yes. Most likely the reason the baby was given up for adoption," Raylan raised a stern eyebrow, "back at that time."

"I see." And it suddenly clicked with Assistant Director Goodall that FBI Agent Anna Rulé was the target of Raylan's investigation. "Were you successful in finding her?" Goodall decided to keep what she knew of Agent Rulé close to her vest, for now.

"Yeah. I tracked her down and finally met her this weekend," he shared. "She's here. In D.C. What are the odds? We're doin' a DNA test."

"That's wise," Goodall nodded. "What did you learn about her?"

"Not much. Like I said, she lives here in DC. Has a boyfriend. Nice enough gent, but he's a little too metro for my taste. She's a realtor who works lousy hours. That's about it, really. Anna and I mutually agreed it wouldn't do either of us any good to get to know each other too much yet . . . in case it turns out we're not related."

Hearing that Agent Rulé lied to him about what she did for a living, Goodall's interest was piqued. "Did you share anything with her about your work?"

"She knows I'm a Marshal housed in Lexington, but that's all I'm comfortable in her knowin' at this point."

The Assistant Director leaned back a little further against her desk to show more of her shapely legs. "Raylan. If you needed help with this, you could have asked me. I would have helped you."

"I know. But it was late that particular night I was searchin' for information. I was on a roll. I'm sorry, Karen." He was literally standing there with his hat his hands. "Truth is, I was so focused on findin' out what happened to a sister I didn't know I had, I wasn't thinkin' about any repercussions."

"You never do," she shook her head and smiled.

He looked at her, waiting for what would come next.

"Have dinner with me. Tonight," she said. Her eyes twinkled. "We'll discuss your punishment."

"Karen. I'm with Winona," he sounded concerned. "And I'm a father now, and we're tryin' to make it work, be a family for our daughter. She won't think too kindly of the two of us havin' dinner together."

Crossing her arms defiantly, Goodall responded. "I'm serving on a task force that takes up all my time these days. It's dinner, Raylan. Unless you no longer care about your job?" She knew she had him by the balls.

"Fine," he relented without blinking an eye. "What time?"

"Pick me up here," she said, satisfied she was getting her way. "Eight o'clock."

"I'll be here." He was not looking forward to the conversation he would have with Winona.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

After Raylan returned to the hotel and broke the news about his mandatory dinner with Karen Goodall and went down to the front desk to extend their stay, Winona called Adam. "So . . . it turns out we're not leaving today, after all," Winona said with a long sigh.

"Yeah?" Adam asked. "You sound disappointed. We could have some more fun while you're here."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. It's not you I'm disappointed in," Winona said. Trying to be careful about what she was about to say, she proceeded with caution. "Raylan's superior is being a hard ass. After their meeting this morning, he has to meet with her, again, for dinner tonight."

"I know all about hard ass bosses," Adam commiserated. "I'm probably on my own for dinner tonight, myself. Anna's working late, again."

After a pause, he continued. "I'm subbing for a good friend of mine at a restaurant called Rosa Mexicana in the Penn Quarter today until 5:00. It's not far at all from where you two are staying. A short cab ride away."

"Raylan is down at the front desk now, seeing if we can have the room for another night," she said. "But yeah, that would be fun to catch up with you."

"Rosa Mexicana is an upscale place," he continued. "Reservations only, but I can take care of you and Raylan. The daytime dress isn't fussy. It's pretty crowded between noon and 1:00, but other than that, I can find you all a place to sit. Its café style, but the food is outrageous. Come by when you can. I know you have to work around Willa's nap." He paused and continued, "You can do that, or you and Willa and I can hang out at our place tonight. Either, both, neither. It's all up to you, Winnie. Just call me when you get here. I'll come out from the kitchen and take good care of you all."

"You know, I think I will come by. Raylan may or may not want to go. I'll ask him."

Adam laughed. "Hey, tell Raylan for me that lunch at the restaurant is on me this time. He'll like that."

"That is so nice of you," Winona gushed. "Thank you. He probably would like that."

"It's a perk of being I sous chef. Family doesn't pay."

"Even though you and I think Anna and Raylan are related, we really don't know if we're family yet or not," she pointed out the obvious.

"I'm at the UPS Store right now," he shared. "Shipping off the lab samples for genetic testing, overnight delivery. By the way, I'm not technically related to anyone. By blood or marriage. But it feels like I am."

"There's no way to convince Anna to marry you?" she asked. "You two are so good together."

Adam laughed. "With her track record, she's afraid she'll jinx us if we get married. I will take that lady any way I can get her."

"Yeah, they're related," she smiled. "I feel the same way about Raylan. Even when his job pisses me off."

How she wanted to share with him the bad vibe she always got whenever Raylan ever brought up the subject of Karen Goodall. Staying in town for dinner, alone, with her man? And their history? No. She did not like the sounds of this at all. But once again, she thought the better of saying anything to Adam.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"That's an awfully nice offer, Adam," Raylan said, scooping up some of the restaurant's famous tableside guacamole on a homemade chip. "You sure it's okay with Anna if we bunk with you for a night?"

"We never use the second floor," Adam said. "The bedroom is small, but it has its own bath with a stand up shower. I get off at five, I'll make up the bed and put some towels in the bathroom, and we're all set."

"Thank you so much!" Winona gushed. "We didn't know what we were going to do with the hotel all booked up."

"Some Insurance convention," Raylan explained with a shrug of his shoulders.

"No worries. I'll even fix us a light supper while Raylan has his dinner meeting." He glanced over his shoulder. "I need to get back in the kitchen. Enjoy your meal, and I'll see you later."

Raylan munched another chip as he watched Adam walk away. "Even I gotta admit that's awfully nice of him to offer us a place to stay. I just hope it's okay with Anna."

"I'm sure it will be," Winona said. "I mean, what else are we going to do?"

"I 'spose we could get started and find a motel on the road," he took a sip of his second Corona.

"I know you aren't happy about this meeting. Considering that you're already drinking and it's just past noon, I'm going to nix that idea." She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "At least she's probably not going to fire you over dinner."

"Probably not," he admitted.

Winona bit her lip. "What's with the dinner thing anyway? Do you think she . . .?" Winona stopped. "Never mind."

"What?" Raylan's eyes slid to Willa, yawning in her carrier, then settled on hers. "You're my girls. I'm not gonna let anything jeopardize that."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Keep the change," Raylan said. He handed the cabbie a ten spot, more than enough to cover the short ride. When he began to exit the cab in front of the courthouse, Karen Goodall showed up out of nowhere and ushered him back in the cab.

"You're right on time," she gave a confident smile, sliding into the backseat beside him. "Friendship Heights," she directed the cabbie. "5335 Wisconsin Avenue."

"Yes, ma'm," the cabbie replied, resetting the meter and leaving his two passengers to their conversation.

As the cab took off, Raylan removed his Stetson off his head and placed it on the seat between them.

"Do I scare you that much?" Karen smiled, flashing a lot of bright, white teeth.

Raylan sucked in a deep breath. He was smiling as well to hide his nervousness. "Well. I must say, you sure don't look like any Assistant Director I ever saw."

He was referring to the fact that she had changed her clothes. From the clingy business suit, she was now wearing a pair of skinny, white linen slacks and a sexy black halter top that showed off her tanned and muscular arms, shoulders, and back. Her dark tresses tousled around her pretty face. In fact, he could have sworn he caught a little side boob action when she entered the cab.

"Thanks," she said, still smiling. "You're looking well. Fit."

There was a steamy heat coming from the woman beside him. Karen Goodall oozed sexuality. She was combustible. She smelled good, too.

"So, how have you been?" Raylan asked, trying to make small talk . . . keeping the focus of the conversation off of him.

"Good," she nodded. "I work hard. Play hard. You know me."

He nodded, his lips sealed tight.

She turned towards him, drawing up her knees in the seat, revealing a familiar butterfly tattoo on the inside of her left ankle and her perfectly pedicured toes peeking from the sexy sandals she wore. Her fawn brown eyes glistened. "I was thinking about what you said today in my office. About wanting to be a family man. For your daughter."

"Yeah," Raylan confirmed.

Karen reached over and touched his arm with her index finger. "I've worked with a lot of marshals. Do you really think you're cut out to be the 'family man' type?"

Karen Goodall knew there one person in the entire U.S. Marshal Service who matched her sexually. And that was Raylan Givens. She should know. She had the pleasure to have known him literally . . . in the biblical sense.

"You know me, too," Raylan nodded, his jaw set firm. "I'm gonna try my damnedest and make this work with Winona . . . because I want it to work. And I want you to respect that. Please. I'd do the same for you, if the shoe was on the other foot. Especially if you asked me to."

She looked at him. Studied him. He was going to be a challenge. Karen Goodall loved a challenge.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Can I help?" Winona wandered into the kitchen in bare feet, Willa on her hip.

"You can grab the wine out of the fridge," Adam said. "Oh, and the colander."

Winona set the bottle of Pinot Gris on the counter and reached back in for the copper colander. She asked, taking a whiff of the lumps of white meat, "Is this crab meat?"

Adam looked up, alarmed. "You aren't allergic, are you?"

"Oh, no." She shook her head. "I love seafood. What are you making?"

"Just a light crab salad and some homemade bread. The butter is fresh, too, and there are strawberries for dessert. I stopped by the farmer's market on the way home." He watched Winona as he opened the wine. She circled the kitchen, bouncing Willa lightly, her look pensive. "You don't like Raylan's boss?"

She pulled a barstool out and sat, plopping Willa onto her lap. The baby smacked her hands on the counter and screeched. "Gah! Ma-ma-ma-ma!"

"Can she have a carrot to gnaw on?" Adam slid a peeled one across the counter. "It's organic."

"She's had mashed carrots, but she might like something to chew. Thanks." She picked it up and handed it to Willa. The baby eyed it, turning it over and over before stuffing one end in her mouth, gumming it happily.

Winona tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've never met this boss," she said. "But I saw her in the office once. She's pretty." After a beat she continued, "I like Raylan's immediate boss just fine. We've known Art since he and Raylan taught firearms at Glynco."

"That's the training center down in Georgia, isn't it?"

Winona looked at him quizzically. "Yes. How do you know about it?"

Adam blew out a breath and shifted away from her, shrugging his shoulders. "Must've heard about it on the news or something. So, what is it about this lady boss you don't like? She have it for your man?" He poured two generous glasses of wine and handed one to Winona.

She took a sip and closed her eyes. "Thank you," she said. "This was just what I . . . we . . . needed. Not the wine, this." She waved her arm, indicating the cozy kitchen. "All the hotel-living was starting to get to me." She shook her head and let out a wry laugh. "Odd, considering."

"Considering what?"

"When Raylan and I got back together, oh, a little over a year ago now, we pretty much lived in a fleabag roadside motel outside of Lexington."

Adam chuckled as he added the crab meat to the lettuce and chopped vegetables in a big glass bowl. "I haven't known you that long, Winnie, but you don't seem the fleabag motel type." He took a sip of wine and studied her. "So, you and Raylan were separated?" She didn't answer right away and Adam jumped back in, apologizing. "Shut me down if I'm prying. Anna hates that."

"No, no, it's okay. We were divorced. Still are, I guess."

Adam tossed some spicy mayo with the salad and put it back in the fridge to chill and let the flavors meld. "You said you were married to a realtor," he recalled. "Was that before Raylan?"

"Between," Winona said with a sad smile. "Might have been better for all concerned if that had never happened."

The cell phone on the counter vibrated and Adam glanced at it. "Anna," he said. He frowned as he scrolled the screen. "She's going to be at work until after nine."

"Gary used to have late nights, too," Winona commiserated. "But then, he was his own boss. Does Anna work for a big firm?"

"Umm hmmm," Adam mumbled. He took a big sip of wine, and Winona cocked her head, studying at him.

"You know, Raylan seems to think you all are keeping something from us." She took a sip of her own wine. "His instincts are usually pretty good."

Adam flushed. "I'm a terrible liar. Always have been. Never could get away with anything when I was a kid. My mother could see right through me." He chuckled, "My sisters were better at it."

Winona waited, bouncing Willa lightly on her knee. "Gah!" The baby yelled, tossing the now mushy carrot at Adam. Unfazed, he scooped it up off the counter and tossed it in the trash.

"Anna thinks it better you not know what she does until we know for sure that they're related."

"I'm pretty sure they are," Winona said. "How about you?"

He finished his wine in one big gulp. "Yeah, you know I think that Raylan is Anna's half-brother." He poured more wine into Winona's half empty glass and the rest of the bottle into his own. "And like I said, I'm a terrible liar, so now you know she isn't a realtor." After a beat, he added, "But I'm not going to tell you what she does."

"Maybe I can guess," Winona said, grinning at him. Before she could, her own cell phone chimed, and she glanced down at the screen. "It's my sister."

"Here," Adam said, holding out his arms for the baby. "You talk. Willa and I will finish getting dinner ready."

Winona returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, frantically punching at her phone. "My daddy's had another heart attack," she said to Adam. "And Raylan isn't answering his cell phone." She tried again. "Damn it!"

"Do you know where they went?"

"For dinner?" Winona was flustered. "Raylan's text said they were going to a restaurant in Friendship Heights."

"I know right where that is," Adam said in a comforting tone. "There are quite a few restaurants there. They'd probably avoid the chains and go to someplace local. You keep trying his cell, I'll call a buddy of mine who works out there. There can't be too many guys wandering around D.C. in Stetsons." He patted her shoulder. "Worst case scenario, we pick up a Zip Car and drive out and look for him."

(To be continued . . .)