Malcolm Bright

"Uh-huh," Raylan sounded, resettling his jacket. He had no idea what that word meant but he knew enough to gather it was some part of the brain. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, people who don't speak up, don't have angry thugs threatening to beat their ass outside. So you've got that goin' for you."

Unlocking the car, Raylan opened and slid into his seat, fishing in his inside pocket for the small notebook that he'd transcribed the list of addresses on, flipping through them.

"But you trust the information, right?"