Malcolm Bright

Raylan glanced down at the way he was dressed and scoffed. Out in the country, it was fine, hell he was dressed up for the country, but he hadn't seen a pair of jeans since he arrived.

"Not looking to be made quaint, that's for sure," he clarified behind a shallow sip of his scotch. "But unless she's in the gangs in Bronx.."

Raylan figured he didn't have to be worried about that. He was here for business after all. Just.. just business.