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

[abrightboy]

Givens was put on hold and a few moments later a clipped voice answered "This is Arroyo."

[tinstar]

"Yes hello, this is US Deputy Marshal Givins. I've got a young man here by the name of Malcolm Bright, that's B-R-I-G-H-T, who says he's a consulting profiler to the NYPD. Are you familiar with that name and person?"

[abrightboy]

Gil Arroyo let out a breath that wasn't quite a sigh, but it was long suffering nonetheless.

"Yes, Bright's one of mine," he conceded. "'Got him' where? What's he done?"

Gil assumed Bright was being detained by the Marshals Service. He was mentally preparing to go pick him up somewhere with apologies for the profiler's eccentricities.

[tinstar]

Raylan smirked. He'd heard that kinda sigh from Art more than a few times.

"Good, good. Well, we are down here in Lexington and your Bright came in with a.. very interesting story and clearly no time or love of the FBI. or hell, maybe they've already told him no already but either way, here he is. I just needed to verify his story before I start pulling any man hours off 'other' cases."

While he spoke, Raylan lazily looked through the case file that had been dropped on his desk. and the casual slant of his expression tightening as he glances at the conference room Malcolm was standing in.

"Anything I need to know about him?"

[abrightboy]

Oh, God, Gil thought. It was going to be one of those days with Bright where he wished the kid had been arrested.

"Lexington. ...Kentucky? Great. Well. He used to work for the FBI but they didn't quite... mesh with his approach, let's say. He's very good at what he does. He honestly wants to stop killers. He honestly wants to help. Nobody gets in the mind of a murderer like he does. A little quirky as a person, though. Bit of an acquired taste, I usually warn people. Is that the sort of thing you had in mind?"

[tinstar]

"Unless you know of another one around," Raylan confirmed with a note of amusement. His accent alone would do any other confirming that Gil might need.

"Something like that, yeah. We'll make sure he gets back up your way with as few holes in him as possible once this is taken care of. Thanks for your time." Harlan was full of killers and Raylan was one, but he only shot people who made him shoot them. It was a complicated balance, but it meant that he was used to dealin with and talking about death.

After he hung up, Raylan grabbed his case folder and ambled back into the conference room.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looked from the map to Raylan when he entered the room again. If Gil didn't ask to speak to him, he was surprised, but when he noted the folder in Raylan's hand, he assumed it was a case file related to the murders and sat down at the table as originally offered.

Obviously Gil had vouched for him.

[tinstar]

To be fair, Raylan hadn't given Gil much time and figured if the man wanted to talk to his consultor, he'd call Malcolm directly. No reason to put that on the Marshal's quarter.

"Looks like you have got some fan-tastic timing, Mr. Bright," he said, dropping the file on the table in front of him. "This-" he said with a finger and a sigh as he sat down, "Came across my desk about 15 minutes before you showed up. Now, I'm not saying it's your guy but.."

His hand flared out lazily in an invitation for Malcolm to open the file. "Let's see what you make of it."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm flipped through the file. The man fit the profile. He'd been to university but was expelled for selling term papers. "Hence the need to prove his intellectual superiority," he murmured, more to himself than Raylan. There were previous arrests for assault but not murder. "Escalation...." And one arrest for stalking a local woman who'd broken off her engagement to him after one of his arrests. A picture from the evidence suggested she looked like the women he murdered.

Bright looked up, holding up the photograph. "He fits the profile. This woman. We need to talk to her. And protect her. These killings weren't for posterity or the press, they were a message for her. Personally. Likely he'll kill two other.... substitutes, for lack of a better word. And if he succeeds, then he'll kill her."

[tinstar]

"Came into our laps because his parole county can't find 'im or keep 'im." Not surprising, considering its small size, but Raylan didn't hold it against them.

"Most people who come around to these parts of Kentucky aren't normally looking for press and prestige. Most of 'em just haven't got anything better to do then get drunk and get in trouble." Raylan nodded slightly as he continued, tapping the table with his index finger as he spoke.

"I can go and talk to her. See if we can't get a beat on him before he 'escalates' anything. You check into a hotel here yet?"

[abrightboy]

"Yes.... why? He's not going to be with her. I need to talk to her. This guy... he's not here to hide or... or wallow. He's here on a mission."

He got up restlessly, wringing his hands together absently as he spoke, squeezing the fingers on one with the other and then vice versa.

"He's got better things to do, Deputy Givens, and he's probably already doing them. Please have someone call local law enforcement while we're on the way to her house and see if any women have been reported missing in the last ten hours."

[tinstar]

"Well, I was gonna suggest you check in and get settled. Get something to eat maybe, we've got a hellva a barbeque style out here that I bet would beat New York's by a good mile." Givens spoke like they were sitting on a porch, drinking neat whiskeys and shooting the shit.

"Pardon me sayin' so but.. you ever.. done field work before? Do you carry? Know how to shoot a gun?"

Raylan got the idea that Malcolm was full of righteous motivation but with no real idea of the situation or area that he found himself in.

[abrightboy]

"Barbeque? No. Thank you. I don't really... eat. Anyway, yes. I know. How to shoot, that is. I don't carry. Anymore. Currently."

He flexed his hands at his sides.

"But I've been in the field a lot. Thank you. For the... concern? We should go."

He gestured towards the door and inched in that direction.

[tinstar]

Malcolm's itchy nature was setting something off in Raylan, an almost contrary need to linger and take his time but he was trying to be less of an asshole, sorta. Not that that meant he was going to move any faster than he already was.

Raylan hummed noncommittally as he pushed back too his feet, collecting the file and starting towards the door. "See, the thing about Kentucky is that most everyone has a gun and they are not too concerned about who they're pointed at. I know you're used to New York and whatever Mafia gangster ways they've got goin' on up there, but down here, you'll find tact and patience in low supply." He paused for a half moment, watching Malcolm's face.

"The chances of someone drawing down on you is highly probable."

[abrightboy]

"Yeah. I have that effect on people. Happens all the time."

If he was concerned about that fact, there was no indication of it.

"Or do you think everyone doesn't have guns in New York? Or that they do have tact and patience? ...Have you been there?"

[tinstar]

"Never had the chance but I can't say that I'm eager to change that. Closest I've gotten to cities like that is Detroit and Miami, which are just as gun happy as the Big Apple." He pulled the glass door open and lowered his head a fraction, a silent cue for Malcolm's welcome to go through the door first.

"If you can take that, I guess I can't really stop you from comin' but if you're not currently carrying, either we arm you or you stay behind me when we're walking into any property or place of business. You agree to that, I might even let you have control of the radio on the way up."

[abrightboy]

"If you're fine with me carrying a gun, I'll carry it."

Gil wasn't fine with it; he insisted that Malcolm was a civilian consultant and shouldn't have one. Maybe it was his protective streak or maybe it was the tremor Malcolm tended to get pretty frequently in his hands, but he'd carried one with the FBI and was comfortable enough with it.

[tinstar]

"If you're fine with carrying it," he replied casually before pointing his file at Tim. "You call local on this guy for me? See if anything pops up in their missing persons?" As Tim nodded, Raylan dropped the file on his desk before opening up a drawer and pulling out a pistol.

"Please don't make me regret this." The piece was set down and slid towards Malcolm before Raylan pulled his blazer off the back of his chair and swung it on. "Don't shoot anyone if you can help it, alright? The paperwork is somethin' of a headache."

Fixing his collar, Raylan adjusted his hat and nodded at Tim before heading towards the doors that led into the office.

[abrightboy]

"We're specifically looking for women in their twenties," Malcolm clarified to Tim, while Tim gave him the kind of look he was used to getting from JT. And it didn't deter him any more than JT's looks did. "Dark hair. Taken from rural areas."

Then he turned to find Raylan passing him the gun. He picked it up.

"I didn't get fired from the FBI for shooting someone," he assured Raylan, tucking the gun into his jacket as he followed the deputy.

[tinstar]

"But you were fired from the FBI," he echoed with a curl of his features. So Malcolm was something of a wave starter, wasn't he. Might turn out that he wasn't so bad. Raylan smirked at Tim before heading through the door to head out towards the front doors to the building proper.

"You ever been this far south before?"

[abrightboy]

"For punching a person," he clarified, holding up an index finger. "But yeah, I worked all over the country with the Bureau. I was what you'd call a specialist," he explained.

[tinstar]

Raylan scoffed, eyebrows arching in squinty unison as he pressed the elevator button. "Can't say I'd do better, considering the number of people I've shot." He had opinions on the FBI but that was neither here nor there.

As the elevator doors close in front of them, Raylan props a hand on his hip and looks over at his new company. "That why they won't take you seriously? Your man Gil said you were an.. acquired taste. That what he meant?"

[abrightboy]

"Oh. No. I would never punch Gil; he practically raised me." A beat. "Though that is typically how he introduces me to new people, now that you mention it."

[tinstar]

"That so." Interesting, to say the least. "And now you're workin' for him." Even more interesting. Of course, Raylan couldn't help but be curious as to why this NYPD cop was raising kids but that was too forward a conversation for a first meeting.

[abrightboy]

"Well, to answer your previous question: the FBI doesn't take my calls because they think I'm crazy. Gil hires me because he thinks I'm reasonably....not. Plus I catch a lot of murderers. He's not the kind of guy who hands out charity."

Unless you're eleven.

"I performed well at Quantico," he added. "Including on marksmanship," he explained as they stepped outside.