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The killer was moving around the country. Malcolm Bright could see the pattern, but he wasn't working for the FBI these days and they weren't exactly taking his calls. Short sighted of them, but they did fire him on suspicion of being crazy. The NYPD's jurisdiction was New York. With the killer beyond its borders, they handed it upwards and left it at that.
Let it go, Bright, had been Gil's sage advice. You can't catch every killer in America single-handedly.
Challenge accepted, some part of him retorted, though he'd only nodded mutely and forced a smile. Gil knew he hadn't simply let it go, but he wasn't going to have him followed to stop him doing anything stupid, either. He didn't have the will or the resources to keep tabs on Malcolm Bright 24/7 and Malcolm Bright knew it.
His mother, on the other hand, had extensive resources, so he simply didn't tell her he was leaving town. He did arrange for Ainsley to feed his bird, so the truth would come out eventually, but he'd be several states away by then.
He rode the bus. There was something oddly comforting about the anonymity of being in a crowd of strangers who had no interest in him whatsoever. He stared out the window and watched the country go by. When he stepped off the Greyhound in Lexington, Kentucky, he walked to a nearby hotel and checked in, then headed straight to the US Marshals office. There was no point in trying to talk to the FBI. If he was going to stop a killer from killing again, he needed someone in law enforcement to listen to him. The pattern suggested the next murder would happen in one of the rural communities around Lexington and it would be precipitated by a young woman's disappearance. He needed law enforcement with local knowledge, specifically.
He wandered into the Marshals' offices in a tidy three piece suit, charcoal grey with a burgundy tie perfectly knotted at his collar. He got a few suspicious sidelong glances but nobody asked if they could help him. He cleared his throat.
"Um, hello? I'm wondering if there's anyone here I can talk to about murder." He held up his hands. "Stopping murder, specifically, not... like... smalltalk."
Let it go, Bright, had been Gil's sage advice. You can't catch every killer in America single-handedly.
Challenge accepted, some part of him retorted, though he'd only nodded mutely and forced a smile. Gil knew he hadn't simply let it go, but he wasn't going to have him followed to stop him doing anything stupid, either. He didn't have the will or the resources to keep tabs on Malcolm Bright 24/7 and Malcolm Bright knew it.
His mother, on the other hand, had extensive resources, so he simply didn't tell her he was leaving town. He did arrange for Ainsley to feed his bird, so the truth would come out eventually, but he'd be several states away by then.
He rode the bus. There was something oddly comforting about the anonymity of being in a crowd of strangers who had no interest in him whatsoever. He stared out the window and watched the country go by. When he stepped off the Greyhound in Lexington, Kentucky, he walked to a nearby hotel and checked in, then headed straight to the US Marshals office. There was no point in trying to talk to the FBI. If he was going to stop a killer from killing again, he needed someone in law enforcement to listen to him. The pattern suggested the next murder would happen in one of the rural communities around Lexington and it would be precipitated by a young woman's disappearance. He needed law enforcement with local knowledge, specifically.
He wandered into the Marshals' offices in a tidy three piece suit, charcoal grey with a burgundy tie perfectly knotted at his collar. He got a few suspicious sidelong glances but nobody asked if they could help him. He cleared his throat.
"Um, hello? I'm wondering if there's anyone here I can talk to about murder." He held up his hands. "Stopping murder, specifically, not... like... smalltalk."
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Date: 24 Jan 2020 23:57 (UTC)"He needs to complete the pattern and he needs her to watch. He needs to show her what he'll do for her. He wants her to understand how he feels."
He paused.
"Yoga is much more meditative," he added. "And more of a full body exercise. Though they're both mindful of breath and intention."
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 00:24 (UTC)Frowning, it was clear that even with the explanation, it hadn't really cleared things up. But it would have to wait - the waitress had come with two cups of coffee and a small tray of cream, and Raylan was sitting back with a friendly smile as he looked down at the menu.
Alright the sigh was a little dramatic, but after ordering a spinach omelette with hashbrowns and bacon, he was done and blinking expectantly across to Malcolm.
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 00:51 (UTC)The waitress just looked at him. After a moment she said "White, brown or rye toast?"
"No toast. Thank you for offering."
She looked at Raylan.
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 00:56 (UTC)Raylan smirked. "So when you 'don't put anything in it', what do you mean. Like cookin' it in some low fat ultra virgin olive oil with no seasoning? What about salt?"
He just had to know how far the Lack of Things went, really.
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 01:19 (UTC)no subject
Date: 25 Jan 2020 01:26 (UTC)"Smart guy like you, I'da figured that would have been something you already worked out. Tests or something. Kinda surprised you haven't wasted away to nothing. Doesn't make sense, that's all."
And he accepted that. Not everything had an answer, he knew that better than he should.
"But thank you for caring about my car. You gotta puke, you tell me, there's plenty of shoulder that isn't going to linger after you're back up in New York."
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 02:04 (UTC)"My problems have side effects, my medications have side effects, my needs change. I know what I can eat. I eat every day, I promise."
He took another sip of coffee.
"Anyway, a little bit of dietary inconvenience is better than hallucinations and panic attacks," he added conversationally.
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 02:37 (UTC)He knew he couldn't say anything about the latter; he hadn't seen it, he didn't know what it entailed and it was easy for ignorant people to bestow advice like they knew what the hell they were talking about.
"What do you do when you're not doing this or freaking out or.. doing yoga? Or does that take up most of your time."
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 02:43 (UTC)"I do try to spend most of my time working. Too deep in my head is not the best place to be." He considered Raylan. "That seems like something you might relate to, actually."
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 02:53 (UTC)Raylan gave a sheepish look and a roll of his shoulders. "One more big case up here and I'll be able to transfer back to Miami. Do something a little less volatile."
Raylan might transfer but he was fooling himself with the idea that men like him lived a less volatile kinda life.
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 02:59 (UTC)no subject
Date: 25 Jan 2020 03:05 (UTC)Too bad it would fail him. But the effort was what was important, right?
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 03:13 (UTC)no subject
Date: 25 Jan 2020 03:25 (UTC)"Because Boyd is smarter than the average hillbilly. A former Nazi and born again preacher and a bomb expert, not to mention being a well read asshole. A dangerous man that's going to burn the county down with his bullshit and the Marshal's have been trying to keep him behind bars for several years. I hit Boyd's trigger." He hit Raylan's.
"All I gotta do is catch him doing what Boyd does best. Help them build an actionable case. Then I'm out."
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 03:41 (UTC)This was personal. Intensely personal, from what Malcolm could tell, but he'd let Raylan say it if he wanted to. Or not, if he didn't want to.
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 03:53 (UTC)Sweet relief came in the form of their breakfast being delivered and Raylan greeted it with open hands, instantly in a better mood for it. Grabbing up his fork and knife, Raylan wasn't shy about digging in.
"There's only a few big crime families in Harlan. Crowder was one of them. Mags Smith was the other." Then there was the Givens, but Raylan didn't mention that. "People that didn't grow up here, they're known. Stick out like a sore thumb and nothing makes Harlan county clam up like carpetbaggers or a badge. I'm the only real leverage that the Marshal's service has out in these lands."
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 04:08 (UTC)no subject
Date: 25 Jan 2020 04:40 (UTC)"Gets me into doors, gives me a.. social currency that they don't have." The words were followed with a healthy bite. After all, Raylan wasn't sure when his next meal would come.
"I'm sure you've got some version of that, with your situation."
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 09:18 (UTC)no subject
Date: 25 Jan 2020 17:51 (UTC)"Knowing enough to worm inside their head is the currency." That was a better way of looking at it from that side. Raylan speared the extra ham and drug it over onto his quickly emptying plates. "Just not one you can use everywhere." Just like his own.
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 17:55 (UTC)"I can use it everywhere," he countered, "but people do not like it, so it can close the door just as easily as it can open it." He shrugged a shoulder and cut a small piece of ham off of his half slice. "But I can't always help it, either, so I mostly just live with people finding me annoying but effective," he explained, popping the bite of meat into his mouth.
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 18:18 (UTC)It would have been helpful for Raylan to remember that own advice when his hand was itching to get onto his gun.
"Everyone is." He'd learn that, sooner or later. The people that managed to have full and healthy relationships? Those were the rare ones. Raylan frowned a little as his hip started ringing and his knife was traded for his phone.
"Givens," was the greeting, but the instant steel and sternness that changed Raylan's face was telling as to it's importance. "Yeah? Where from?"... "Sonofabitch. Yeah, I'm on my way. Bring the files with you then."
He nodded, despite the caller not being able to see the motion before he hung up.
"Second girl's gone missing. A few miles outside of that property I found." He was driven.. and also hungry. Raylan stuffed a few more ungraceful bites into his mouth as he scooted out of the seat to pull out his wallet and dig out some bills.
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 19:48 (UTC)He'd eaten half an egg and one bite of ham, but he left the plate, throwing some money on the table as well. Probably far too much for one egg and a piece of ham, but the waitress had put up with his order without saying anything.
"How long will it take us to get there?" he asked, right on Raylan's heels on the way out of the restaurant.
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 21:10 (UTC)This wasn't going to be a Sunday drive.
"I hate the fact that this is a question that I've gotta ask but.. How long does this guy take, how much time does he invest into an actual killing."
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Date: 25 Jan 2020 22:37 (UTC)(no subject)
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From:I think that's a great place to ftb
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