Raylan gave a long suffering sigh, adjusted his hat before shaking his head at the both of them; Art gave Malcolm a smirk before rolling himself out of the car along with his long legged deputy.

Raylan adjusted his baseball cap and unlatched the gate that led them to the front door and knocked, glancing appricencivly at his company.

A rough, large, tattooed man answered the door. "Yeah, what do you want?"

Art flashed his badge. "US Marshals - We're looking for Robert Quarles. You seen him?"