The Lengths That I Would Go To

[abrightboy]

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."

Comments

[tinstar]

"That'll do it." Raylan wasn't good at filling silence and so he didn't bother to try.

[abrightboy]

"I did try to be a better guest this time," he admitted, glancing over at him. "Screaming in the middle of the night notwithstanding."

[tinstar]

"I'll be sure to write a glowing letter of review for Gil," Raylan chuckled with another look over at him. "Really, it's not a big deal. We've all got shit. Yours is just a little more.. forward," he admitted with a bob of his head. "You're fine. Certainly nothing worse than what coulda come up. I've woken up to gunshots in that house more than I have screams."

It'd only take them some 15 minutes to get to Arlo's anyway.

"Can I ask you something? Why'd you decide to come out with me instead of grabbin' your little overnight bag and getting outta dodge?" He was sure Malcolm had better things to do than strip barely slept in sheets for a guy he barely knew. Talents notwithstanding.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm glanced down with a little laugh at the comment about sending Gil a good review, but at his question he looked over at him, then looked out the window, then looked over at Raylan again. He gestured towards the window.

"I don't... know them."

[tinstar]

"You suffered a car ride with me without knowin' me," Raylan continued, head bobbing again in consideration. "That's a step, right? They're good folks. Tim is an Army sniper that was stationed in Afghanistan. Solid Marshal, damaged relationship with his drunken father. Rachel is solid too. She comes from Tennessee which isn't far off from here. Country, in its own right. She's gonna run the department sooner or later, I'd bet money on it."

[abrightboy]

Oh.

He looked over at Raylan as something occurred to him for the first time.

"Did you want to do this by yourself?"

[tinstar]

Raylan looked back at him, half cocked smirk on his face. "I coulda done, but I don't mind the company. It's your time, not mine. And it's not like you haven't seen the inside of Arlo's house or me off duty, to a limited degree." Why would he have a problem with Malcolm riding along?

He shrugged. Raylan wasn't the type to admit it but he found that he enjoyed the unique and quirky oddities about Malcolm that might otherwise put other people off. It didn't occur to him to question why.

Anyway, soon enough, Malcolm would be gone back up to New York anyway. Raylan wasn't the type to drag out goodbyes.

[abrightboy]

"Thanks. I'm told I tend to invite myself places," he admitted. "Crime scenes, mostly. But not exclusively."

[tinstar]

"Clearly," he said with half a chuckle behind the word. "It ain't always a bad thing. Especially with your results. Crime scene or otherwise. Plus, I get all your beer."

[abrightboy]

"Yeah, if I ever know I'm coming over, I'll even bring you extra," he offered with a laugh.

[tinstar]

"Beers are meant for front porches and fixing trucks, and drinking by the six pack. I'd rather have a good bottle of whiskey, if you're bringing something. Bottles of whiskey never last long so I never have 'em on hand."

[abrightboy]

"I keep whiskey in the house," Malcolm offered. "Well. Not Kentucky bourbon. Single malt scotch. But consider that an invitation to invite yourself over some time," he said with a smile. "If you're ever in New York."

[tinstar]

"God forbid," Raylan chuckled. "I'd stick out like a sore thumb. Not exactly a prime vacation spot." Still, he glanced back over at Malcolm with a smirk. "If I'm ever in town, I'll look you up."

Turning onto what should now be a familiar dirt road, it wasn't long before they were pulling up to Arlo's and Raylan was turning off the engine with a sigh as he looked at the house.

"Might be good to see a new place though..." Whatever was in his head was disregarded as he stepped out of the car. "Pull the sheets off the bed you were in?" he asked, adjusting his hat back onto his head a bit.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm left his bag in the car and followed Raylan inside.

"Sure," he said at the instructions, bounding up the stairs. He pulled the sheets of the bed as requested and headed back down with them bundled in his arms. "Where do you want them?" he asked from the doorway once he found Raylan.

[tinstar]

"Wash room is in the back, round that way," he replied from his spot in the kitchen, gesturing that way. "You do know how to start a load of laundry, right?"

Of course he was just fucking with Malcolm; washers were a basic skill.

[abrightboy]

"I'm sure I can figure it out," Malcolm said breezily. "How hard can it be, right?" he called as he headed in the direction given. Was he joking? Who was fucking with whom now?

I think that's a great place to ftb

[tinstar]

"Jesus," Raylan swore, laughing to himself despite himself and hoping he wasn't going to have to clean up too many suds.