Justified (2010–2015): Season 2, Episode 4 - For Blood or Money - full transcript
When Rachel's brother-in-law makes a violent escape from a halfway house, Raylan is forced to hunt him down.
Looks like we got company.
Loretta McCready.
What brings you up this way?
Might ask you the same question.
Raylan, what's this all about?
Come up for a little Sunday dinner?
- Well, you know how the job is, Doyle.
- Yeah.
Nights and weekends is when
all the good stuff happens.
Task force never rests.
Task force?
What, they didn't...
Well, I'm sure
they'll be contacting you directly.
Well, task force or no,
you're stepping outside yourself,
showing up at my family home,
aren't you?
Raylan Givens. Uninvited
don't mean unwelcome, Doyle.
You missed lunch. Can I fix you a plate?
Oh, no, I'm fine.
But I did bring you something.
Apple pie.
Of course, it don't compare
to your home brew.
Be a new batch soon. I'll set you
back a jar with your name on it.
I appreciate that.
I also got some things here
for the kids, if it's all right.
Come here, guys.
Marshals Service is big on trinkets.
Go ahead and take one. There you go.
And that there is eastern Kentucky's
official Marshal's coin.
How much is it worth?
It's not for spending, just collecting.
"Justice is coming."
Doyle, you take Loretta on,
and you entertain the kids.
Grown-ups need to chew the fat here.
Go on now.
- Yes, ma'am.
- Go on, all of you.
You, too, Doyle.
Way she tells it, you saved her life.
Well, looks like there's a lot of us
looking after her these days.
What's that they say? Takes a village?
Something like that.
Might we have a word, Mags?
- Of course, you're all welcome to listen.
- Don't mind them.
What's on your mind?
Wondering if you know of a man
name of Bobby Lawton.
Bobby Lawton.
Name doesn't ring a bell.
Fella got killed on that Oxy bus
a few days back.
Turns out he was a foot soldier
for the Dixie Mafia out of Frankfort.
Dixie Mafia? Lord! That sounds
like a mighty dangerous outfit.
They've been known to be, yeah.
Such that hitting their drug pipeline
ain't something we imagine
that these hijackers would have
undertaken on their own initiative.
I believe your boy Doyle
inquired as to who they worked for.
Yeah, I asked them.
They drew down on me.
Right.
Had no choice but to put them down.
That's about right.
Well, one of the hijackers,
name Elrod Platt,
we got his cell phone records.
Week before the hijacking show he had
numerous conversations with Dickie.
Yes, he did speak to Dickie.
I spoke to Elrod about
buying an ATV for the business.
We may never be able
to prove otherwise.
But I want you to know that I know
what's going on, out of respect.
Mama,
- I swear...
- Shut it!
Marshal,
you know I deal a little weed.
And man of your age, you can't tell me
you hadn't smoked a little reefer.
I can't.
And you know my position
on Oxy and meth and the rest.
As you've stated it, yes, ma'am.
And yet you find it acceptable to come in
here and bust in on my family dinner,
asking if I've had a hand in
robbing a bus full of shit
from a bunch of Frankfort peckerwoods.
Mags, I never asked if
you robbed that bus.
No, no, no. You're just being all
clever, insinuating without asking.
Trying to stir things up. That it?
You tell me, Mags. Is it working?
- Let me ask you something, Raylan.
- Fire away.
- Why do you care so much?
- I'm sorry?
Come on, now, child.
Gonna sit there on my
lumber and tell me
this has got nothing to do with
the history between our families?
With why my boy there hasn't
walked right for the past 21 years?
Frankfort mob gonna come over that hill
bringing hell with them because of that bus.
They'll stay till they've
bled this county white.
Whatever our family history, Mags...
That's why I care.
Sure I can't fix you a plate?
- No, thank you.
- How about some dessert?
Nice of you to offer.
You all enjoy the rest of your supper.
Why didn't you tell me?
I had nothing to do with it.
Other than shooting a couple of
assholes to keep them from talking!
Yeah, well, that.
Look, I thought this was a good deal.
I did.
And I know how you feel about Oxy,
but the thing is...
I don't give a shit what you think!
What I do give a shit about
are our bigger plans,
which do not need a federal
marshal snooping around!
So...
What are we gonna do
about Raylan Givens?
What do you mean?
What... What do I mean?
I think she wants us to kill him.
- Have you not been listening?
- Yeah.
She said she didn't want him
snooping around.
That's right.
You have any idea the
federal shit storm
we'd bring down if we killed a marshal?
We're talking Black
Hawk-helicopter time.
Jesus.
I don't want either
of you two doing shit
or even contemplating doing shit
until you run it by
someone who can think.
It's open.
Is the music too loud?
Little bit.
What are you reading?
Of Human Bondage.
- I don't know that.
- Yeah, I just started.
Little stuffy in here.
I don't mind.
It's nicer out on the porch.
Wigs are popular again.
Starting to cut into business,
although there was
this one woman yesterday.
She wanted me to add curls to hers.
She brought it in on a foam head, put it up
in my chair, like it was a real person.
You believe that?
That's something.
She didn't tip for shit, either.
I hate doing wigs.
You know, I always wondered what I'd
look like with long hair.
- That is a funny image, Boyd.
- I'm serious.
I thought if I had long hair, I might
be the lead singer in a rock band.
I love music.
- Well, can you sing?
- No.
No, I can't sing, not a lick.
But my grandmother, she could sing.
She would sing out in the backyard,
and I'd sit and listen to her.
It calmed me.
- Well, life is long.
- Yeah.
You expecting company?
Ava, you best go inside.
- Friends of yours?
- Go on in and lock the door.
Stop right there.
I'm afraid I owe you an apology.
What I did to you was uncalled for.
It's just that I get confused in my head
whenever I think about
such painful things.
It's all right, Boyd.
It ain't what we're here for.
What are you here for?
You know my buddy Pruitt. Feels real bad
about how he talked to you at the mine.
This is Marcus.
- Here you go.
- Hey, thanks.
Olander's got a hard-on for you.
Oh, shit!
Hey.
You know what this chart is, dawg?
The service log.
You were scheduled to service
the main bathroom last night.
Bathroom?
Nobody likes to mop up
piss and shit, homes.
Think I don't know that?
I must have misread it.
I did kitchen duty instead.
Well, that's one hell of a screw-up.
Okay. I'll get on it right now.
No, sit down.
- Well, you want me to...
- We're not done until I say we're done.
Sit.
You're a good homeboy,
so I'm gonna walk it out.
I snorted, shot, drank, grundled,
and douched more junk before I was 30
than Rick James did in his lifetime.
And I'm still kicking.
You want to know why?
Because I am the stair master.
Yeah, I climb all twelve steps
dozens of times, every day.
And that's admirable.
You skipped out on
your responsibilities.
And now there's a price to pay.
You need to make an inventory,
and I want you to make amends.
Okay, all right.
There are no excuses, all right?
I know. And that's why I
cancelled your day pass.
Now, I want you to go upstairs,
work on your self-appraisal,
and be at the 3:00 meeting.
- Don't do that. I got some real big...
- I know about your plans.
You'll have to reschedule for next week.
It won't be his birthday next week.
This is a baby bitch slap.
If I was really upset, I'd yank your
chain all the way back to Correction.
Bullshit!
Ding-dong! You just earned yourself
a 30-day pass suspension.
You can use the month to work on
your lack of respect!
Now get out of my office. Now!
Mr. Arnett, this is
Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens.
Not our first tango.
Raylan, please have a seat.
How do you take your coffee?
No, nothing for me, thank you.
The usual for me, Yvette. Make two
in case the deputy changes his mind.
You want a little kick?
Mr. Arnett likes a little kick.
- He'll have a nudge.
- Okay.
- That Piper Van Winkle?
- Yeah, Frankfort's own.
This particular concoction is a private
single-barrel made especially for me.
Takes the edge off those bitter beans.
- Thank you.
- You're welcome.
Just give me a buzz
if you need anything.
- You know I will.
- Okay.
Are you wearing pants?
I like to maintain my creases.
Stay sharp.
I suppose there's no reason to get up.
Hoping to have a civil discussion, avoid the
gunplay that erupted last time I saw you.
Yes, that was unfortunate.
But, you know, it's because of that
wild day that I agreed to this meeting.
- Is that right?
- Yeah. Quite frankly, I owe you one.
You advised Gary to sign over
that mall property to me.
- That's not why I'm here.
- I sold that property, and I took the money,
and I invested in foreclosures.
So when the market bounces back,
I'm gonna be managing a multimillion-dollar
fortune in Kentucky bluegrass.
So you are legitimate now.
The Frankfort branch of the Dixie Mafia
has lost its best wheeler-dealer.
You believe in the Dixie Mafia,
I got me a toy factory in the North Pole
you should invest in.
Does Yvette know about any of the
shit you did before real estate?
Yvette has no interest in my past.
Makes her so special.
And what about the new associates?
Do they know your résumé?
Are you blackmailing me?
No, this is just, you know,
good, old-fashioned leverage.
Well, putting aside
that you've jumped to
some rather scandalous
conclusions about me,
I can absolutely assure you
you're talking to the wrong guy here.
Who should I be talking to?
You might try the guy who tried
to kill me on that wild day.
- Wynn Duffy?
- I hear he's taken over some
management responsibilities
with a certain organisation
I have no interest in
being affiliated with.
That doesn't even exist, anyway.
Well,
if you talk to him,
and I'm gonna assume you will,
will you tell him that Oxy bus
he lost down in Harlan,
he should just write that off.
If he goes down there, chopping off limbs,
I'm gonna personally turn him inside out.
Would you tell him that for me?
- Well, as I said...
- Would you tell him that for me?
If I talk to him.
Dear Lord!
Was it Vinnie?
- Clinton?
- Clinton.
Do I call the police or the Marshals?
- No, we're not calling anybody.
- What?
I'm gonna bring him back.
I know where he's going.
- Hey.
- Hi.
You still do that before
you show a house?
What, vanilla on foil? Of course.
Ten minutes at 350, smells like fresh
cookies baking.
You know, every room
in the Biltmore mansion
was connected to the kitchen,
so anyone staying there
- would wake to the smell of...
- Fresh bread, yeah. I know.
- Told you that before, huh?
- Once or twice.
- Well, thanks for coming by.
- Listen, Gary.
Raylan told me that you talked
and what you said.
I didn't think he'd do that.
I just want you to know that anything
that happened with us
happened after you moved out, okay?
Thank you for that.
But the truth is, you wouldn't have
gone back to Raylan if I hadn't screwed up.
Yeah, why did you do that, Gary?
Why did you tell him that
you were gonna try and get me back?
I wanted him to know.
It wasn't because you
wanted me to know?
Well, I was hoping you already knew.
Winona...
I love you. I have never stopped.
And I do want you back. Simple as that.
How do you plan on doing that, Gary?
You know, fixing everything that
happened, restoring that trust?
'Cause I tell you what, it's gonna
take more than foil on vanilla.
Yeah, well, that's why
I asked you to come over.
Now, I know the only way to restore trust
is to be dead, straight honest, you know?
Not hide anything I might want to hide.
All right. So what is it?
We need to get a divorce.
Hey. What's going on?
A call came in from a receptionist
at the halfway house
where my brother-in-law, Clinton,
was assigned for parole.
Apparently, Clinton beat the shit out of
his programme manager and took off.
- Your brother-in-law is on parole?
- Long story.
The receptionist sat on her ass for over
an hour before she called it in.
The programme
manager told her not to.
He said he knew where Clinton was headed,
and he wanted to bring him in himself.
Does the receptionist know
where he's headed?
- Nope.
- It's my nephew, Nick,
Clinton's son. It's his birthday.
I'm guessing he'll make a beeline
toward Nick's school.
You already put a BOLO out on him?
Nah, I figured since he's your
brother-in-law, I'd just let it slide.
We'll need a team
to lock down Nick's campus.
Absolutely, but you
won't be taking lead.
- Chief...
- No.
You just get Nick, and you bring him
back here. Raylan, you set up and wait.
Hey, how much of a bad guy
is her brother-in-law?
"Heads in a duffel bag"
or just an asshole?
He killed her sister.
Flex.
- You look good.
- Been a long while, bro.
Better than last time I saw you.
Can we spit?
Get in.
Cool.
You better not be looking to score.
I'm out of the trade.
Okay.
I'm becoming a magician,
like that Mindfreak guy.
I'm gonna be the first big,
badass black magician.
Learning all the basics on YouTube.
I can do shit with a coin would
make your eyes pop out.
You got a name for your act?
Just Flex. Not "The Amazing Flex"
or none of that shit. Just Flex.
Flex.
Got muscle
and attitude.
How you been?
You look clean.
I quit after I copped to the truth.
You ain't looking to score,
what you out here for?
I got this here for my little man.
It's his birthday.
What is that?
Before I went in, this here
is all he ever wanted.
That and go to Billy the Kidzone.
It's like Chuck E. Cheese.
Pizza, games,
only with cowboys.
How old's your boy?
12 today.
Anyhow, I got to go pick him up
from school today.
Catch a ride?
No can do. I got errands.
Okay. You know, spot me $100.
I got to be at Man O'War before 3:00.
Won't make it fooling around
on that bus, you know.
Strict policy, chief.
I don't loan out money.
$75. I'll get you right back.
This conversation's done.
Get out.
Do me a solid, man.
I'm trying to go get my boy.
This is bullshit, man. It's real bullshit!
Since when did you
become such a pussy?
Since you became a bitch.
- Get out!
- Get your hands off me!
Get your hands off me!
Hey, hey!
God! Shit!
Come back here! Hey!
You hurt my hand!
Can I leave the door open?
Open's good.
What are you gonna tell them?
I heard the whole thing.
Don't even bother lying about it.
Well, I wasn't gonna lie to you about it.
And...
I'm gonna tell them no.
That's not what you said last night.
Well, I said I'd think about it.
You know I won't tolerate
criminal activity.
Well, I have no interest in that.
Then why didn't you just
say no when they asked?
I was being polite.
Polite?
Polite.
Ava, you have my word.
You have a good day.
Suspect approaching, black Chevy
Chevelle with racing stripes.
US Marshals!
I work with your sister-in-law,
Rachel Brooks.
Your son is in a safe place.
Just came to give my boy a gift.
Give it to me. I'll see he gets it.
Now I need you to shut off your car.
Nice car.
Here's one for you.
I found you a husband.
Are you on a dating site?
You were supposed to
be playing solitaire.
- It's funny.
- I know. He's old,
and he's white.
But he gets out in three years.
- Hey, Winona.
- Raylan.
- You okay?
- Yeah, I'm fine. Why, do I not look okay?
Well, you look...
- It's just, I got to...
- Because I'm not okay.
- I'm sorry.
- For what?
Whatever I did or didn't do.
Why do you assume that when
I'm upset, I'm upset with you?
You're usually upset with me.
That's true.
Gary asked me to his office.
He said we need to get a divorce.
Wonderful.
I mean, I'm so sorry.
He only said it because
our mortgage is upside down.
We owe more on the house
than what it's worth.
I know what "upside down" means.
Okay. I guess he figures
that if we get a divorce,
then I can give him the house
in the agreement,
and then he's the only one who's
gonna be dragged under in all this,
and that would make me
feel guiltier than shit,
because the only reason we have this great
big house is because I wanted one.
He's a damn genius.
He suggests divorce, knowing you'd
feel too guilty to follow through.
Well-played, Gary.
What are you talking about?
He's just trying to show
you he's a good guy.
And somehow being a good guy
is underhanded?
He's just trying to win you back.
I still don't see why that's
such a big problem.
How much you need to keep the house?
Why? Is that gonna be
your big play to win me?
I have savings.
How much?
$800, $900 easy.
- I really should go.
- Okay.
What's up, Nick?
I have a bunch of these already.
Well, now you got one more.
What are you doing?
Finding Rachel a husband.
Nick, go get a soda.
You're gonna end up bitter and alone.
You let Clinton get away.
- You take this call?
- Five minutes ago.
What's he want?
I don't know. I took down the number.
Be grateful for that.
Anything on the partial?
The only Chevelle with those letters
belongs to a drug dealer...
Look no further.
By the name of Ralph Beeman.
Goes by the name of Flex.
I put out a BOLO on him.
Anything from your mother?
No. I tried calling. There's no response.
I'm heading there now.
Do you want to go there,
or do you need to go there?
You honestly think I want to
cap my brother-in-law?
Raylan, go with her.
You want me to shoot him?
Just reading his file here. How did he...
Kill my sister?
Driving while high.
Wrapped their Miata
around a telephone pole.
Shawnee went through the windshield.
Ma, open up!
Ma!
Ma!
He kept saying he wanted my car.
I said I flushed the key.
Did you?
No, but it sounded good.
And then you started shooting.
You should spend some
time at the range.
She has.
Almost clipped his arm a couple of times,
just trying to keep him from leaving.
He took your gun?
And my extra clip.
Rachel, honey, I want you to promise me,
you catch him, you won't shoot him.
You just tried to shoot him yourself.
I was just trying to keep him still.
You're the one who wants to kill him.
Why does everyone think I'm
so hell-bent on killing him?
I know you blame him, but he...
Of course I blame him.
He wanted to help her.
Help her?
Clinton tried to save Shawnee's life.
- Okay.
- She overdosed.
This man tied you down in your own
home, and now you're defending him.
I am not defending him!
I'm trying to explain him!
He was taking Shawnee to the
emergency room when they crashed.
Okay. Givens.
Clinton's got problems,
but he loved your sister.
Where?
- Loved her enough to pump her with poison.
- On our way.
She was addicted before she met him.
You know that.
Clinton called the office looking
for you. Wants to make a deal.
Another Coke?
Why stop at four?
Want me to bring this back in the
kitchen, warm it up?
Sure. I should have
waited to order, anyhow.
Someone's running late, huh?
Yeah. He and his aunt better hurry up,
or he ain't getting his birthday present.
Ain't that right, Furbot?
I don't know why this
thing speaks Chinese.
Okay, that's enough out of you.
Clinton! What are you doing?
Come on. We're going.
I don't think so.
I told you it's my boy's birthday.
Well, he ain't here.
Sophie? Can I see you for a moment?
Just a second. Can I get you anything?
- Right now or you're fired!
- Okay!
Mr. Cranky Pants needs a
chocolate bar. I'll be right back.
Let's go.
You didn't get the impression
I was serious this morning?
I'd kindly give you another go-round,
if that's what you want.
You want to threaten me, smart guy?
Beat me down again?
I'm here to help, asshole.
I'm giving you another chance.
Why?
I don't run the house
for the fun of it, Clinton.
It's what I believe in. It's what I do.
It's why I didn't call the police.
That's all right, 'cause I just did.
What?
Oh, shit.
Who is he?
Who am I?
Who are you?
I'm an associate of
none of your goddamn business.
You got to be kidding me.
Yeah, that's right.
We got some shit to talk about.
And that piece you got underneath,
just put it up on the table slow.
I conversate best when
I'm nice and relaxed.
Let me tell you something, slick,
whatever this is about, we can do it the
easy way. Isn't that right, Clinton?
Shut up, Olander.
Yeah, man, shut up.
Go play Donkey Kong.
I'm an officer of the law.
Put the gun down.
You're moving to the top
of my list real fast.
We're adults.
We're gonna talk this through.
We don't need guns.
You have any idea the
ramifications of what you did?
I was gonna be a magician, you dick.
How the hell am I supposed to
do magic with this hand now?
I'm not!
That's the answer!
I'm not.
Your punk ass could
have gave me a ride.
This is my fault now?
He's right, Clinton.
We don't blame other peo...
Where's my car?
I ain't got it, bro.
See, Clinton, that's the wrong answer.
What you're supposed to say is,
"Of course you don't see it out front,
Flex, since I parked it in the back."
But you didn't say that.
I ditched it.
Where?
'Cause I had a whole shitload of dope
tucked into the panels of that car.
Which hand you jack off with?
US Marshals! No one move!
Don't shoot!
Get back! Get back!
Clinton.
Where's my son?
You honestly thought
I'd bring him here?
I need to see my son!
I just wanted to give him his gift.
Shit.
- Get back!
- Don't shoot.
You don't come any closer.
Don't shoot.
Is this how you want Nick to
remember his 12th birthday?
His father shooting an innocent man?
Get up!
I loved your sister.
So did I.
Why do I have the office where
the deputies shoot people?
Nothing wrong with this one.
Meaning that there are things wrong
with the other ones you've done?
Tell you the only thing wrong with this
shooting. She reacted faster than I did.
You're getting old.
Not as old as you.
And you're a dick.
I'll talk to her tomorrow, but you're gonna
have to walk her through the process.
Okay. I will.
I hope this doesn't
affect her ambitions.
I do, too.
She's the best marshal I've got.
You realise I'm sitting right here?
I do.
How'd it go in Frankfort?
Arnett swears he's out of the game.
Pointed me to the man who used to
be his gun thug, Wynn Duffy.
I also got a call from
Dewey Crowe's lawyer.
Concerning?
Says Dewey knows about some
shit going down in Harlan
that might be worth our while.
And what do you think?
Knowing Dewey? Bullshit.
Look at you, boy.
Growing all tall and getting muscles.
You shaving yet?
I'm 12.
I got this for you.
Thanks.
You know what that is?
A Furby?
Furbot.
It's a cheap knockoff.
It only spoke Chinese.
Chinese? How's it work?
It doesn't.
Somebody shot it.
Who would shoot Furby?
What did he ever do to anybody?
Can I keep it?
If you want.
What's this stain here?
Is that chocolate?
No. That's...
That's blood.
When I was Nick's age,
before my father's cancer,
I thought we were the Cosbys.
My parents had good jobs.
There was a feast on the table
after church on Sundays.
Shawnee and I would ride our
Huffys around the neighbourhood.
We had good hair and
made straight A's.
Except, as my mother reminds me,
that wasn't reality.
The jobs weren't all that good, and
my father was never a happy man,
even before he got sick.
And Shawnee was
smoking pot at nine and
running away to smoke
heroin at fifteen.
I never bore any illusions that my
family was the Cosbys.
Your family wasn't funny.
At least you got to shoot your father.
Mine had the nerve to die before I got back
from basic with skills and a loaded weapon.
You didn't miss much.
I thought it was gonna be
way more fun than it was.
- You heading out?
- In a minute.
I'll wait.
Don't.
You having any second
thoughts about the shooting?
Not really.
You will.
But if you ever have any
serious doubts, ask me.
I'll tell you.
You did what had to be done.
Hey, Ezekiel.
Kyle.
You didn't think you'd get to leave
without seeing me, did you?
I thought about your request
and must politely decline.
What are you talking about?
Well, as I've made
myself abundantly clear,
I'm no longer in that line of work.
You ain't even heard the scheme yet.
Right now I know nothing about it.
If anyone asks, I'll stick to that.
Your share alone is $40,000.
You're wasting your time.
That doghole pays people in cash
at the end of every shift.
No more than $20,000 at any
one time precisely for this reason.
You notice, huh?
Well, what would you say
if somebody had a friend
who worked for the
armoured-car company
who could provide engine trouble
four days running,
stalling deliveries so there would be
$80,000 cash at one time?
Then I'd say there's still no way to get down
off this mountain without getting caught.
What if there's a way not
only you not get caught,
but get treated like a hero?
Like one of those
miners down in Chile?
Loretta McCready.
What brings you up this way?
Might ask you the same question.
Raylan, what's this all about?
Come up for a little Sunday dinner?
- Well, you know how the job is, Doyle.
- Yeah.
Nights and weekends is when
all the good stuff happens.
Task force never rests.
Task force?
What, they didn't...
Well, I'm sure
they'll be contacting you directly.
Well, task force or no,
you're stepping outside yourself,
showing up at my family home,
aren't you?
Raylan Givens. Uninvited
don't mean unwelcome, Doyle.
You missed lunch. Can I fix you a plate?
Oh, no, I'm fine.
But I did bring you something.
Apple pie.
Of course, it don't compare
to your home brew.
Be a new batch soon. I'll set you
back a jar with your name on it.
I appreciate that.
I also got some things here
for the kids, if it's all right.
Come here, guys.
Marshals Service is big on trinkets.
Go ahead and take one. There you go.
And that there is eastern Kentucky's
official Marshal's coin.
How much is it worth?
It's not for spending, just collecting.
"Justice is coming."
Doyle, you take Loretta on,
and you entertain the kids.
Grown-ups need to chew the fat here.
Go on now.
- Yes, ma'am.
- Go on, all of you.
You, too, Doyle.
Way she tells it, you saved her life.
Well, looks like there's a lot of us
looking after her these days.
What's that they say? Takes a village?
Something like that.
Might we have a word, Mags?
- Of course, you're all welcome to listen.
- Don't mind them.
What's on your mind?
Wondering if you know of a man
name of Bobby Lawton.
Bobby Lawton.
Name doesn't ring a bell.
Fella got killed on that Oxy bus
a few days back.
Turns out he was a foot soldier
for the Dixie Mafia out of Frankfort.
Dixie Mafia? Lord! That sounds
like a mighty dangerous outfit.
They've been known to be, yeah.
Such that hitting their drug pipeline
ain't something we imagine
that these hijackers would have
undertaken on their own initiative.
I believe your boy Doyle
inquired as to who they worked for.
Yeah, I asked them.
They drew down on me.
Right.
Had no choice but to put them down.
That's about right.
Well, one of the hijackers,
name Elrod Platt,
we got his cell phone records.
Week before the hijacking show he had
numerous conversations with Dickie.
Yes, he did speak to Dickie.
I spoke to Elrod about
buying an ATV for the business.
We may never be able
to prove otherwise.
But I want you to know that I know
what's going on, out of respect.
Mama,
- I swear...
- Shut it!
Marshal,
you know I deal a little weed.
And man of your age, you can't tell me
you hadn't smoked a little reefer.
I can't.
And you know my position
on Oxy and meth and the rest.
As you've stated it, yes, ma'am.
And yet you find it acceptable to come in
here and bust in on my family dinner,
asking if I've had a hand in
robbing a bus full of shit
from a bunch of Frankfort peckerwoods.
Mags, I never asked if
you robbed that bus.
No, no, no. You're just being all
clever, insinuating without asking.
Trying to stir things up. That it?
You tell me, Mags. Is it working?
- Let me ask you something, Raylan.
- Fire away.
- Why do you care so much?
- I'm sorry?
Come on, now, child.
Gonna sit there on my
lumber and tell me
this has got nothing to do with
the history between our families?
With why my boy there hasn't
walked right for the past 21 years?
Frankfort mob gonna come over that hill
bringing hell with them because of that bus.
They'll stay till they've
bled this county white.
Whatever our family history, Mags...
That's why I care.
Sure I can't fix you a plate?
- No, thank you.
- How about some dessert?
Nice of you to offer.
You all enjoy the rest of your supper.
Why didn't you tell me?
I had nothing to do with it.
Other than shooting a couple of
assholes to keep them from talking!
Yeah, well, that.
Look, I thought this was a good deal.
I did.
And I know how you feel about Oxy,
but the thing is...
I don't give a shit what you think!
What I do give a shit about
are our bigger plans,
which do not need a federal
marshal snooping around!
So...
What are we gonna do
about Raylan Givens?
What do you mean?
What... What do I mean?
I think she wants us to kill him.
- Have you not been listening?
- Yeah.
She said she didn't want him
snooping around.
That's right.
You have any idea the
federal shit storm
we'd bring down if we killed a marshal?
We're talking Black
Hawk-helicopter time.
Jesus.
I don't want either
of you two doing shit
or even contemplating doing shit
until you run it by
someone who can think.
It's open.
Is the music too loud?
Little bit.
What are you reading?
Of Human Bondage.
- I don't know that.
- Yeah, I just started.
Little stuffy in here.
I don't mind.
It's nicer out on the porch.
Wigs are popular again.
Starting to cut into business,
although there was
this one woman yesterday.
She wanted me to add curls to hers.
She brought it in on a foam head, put it up
in my chair, like it was a real person.
You believe that?
That's something.
She didn't tip for shit, either.
I hate doing wigs.
You know, I always wondered what I'd
look like with long hair.
- That is a funny image, Boyd.
- I'm serious.
I thought if I had long hair, I might
be the lead singer in a rock band.
I love music.
- Well, can you sing?
- No.
No, I can't sing, not a lick.
But my grandmother, she could sing.
She would sing out in the backyard,
and I'd sit and listen to her.
It calmed me.
- Well, life is long.
- Yeah.
You expecting company?
Ava, you best go inside.
- Friends of yours?
- Go on in and lock the door.
Stop right there.
I'm afraid I owe you an apology.
What I did to you was uncalled for.
It's just that I get confused in my head
whenever I think about
such painful things.
It's all right, Boyd.
It ain't what we're here for.
What are you here for?
You know my buddy Pruitt. Feels real bad
about how he talked to you at the mine.
This is Marcus.
- Here you go.
- Hey, thanks.
Olander's got a hard-on for you.
Oh, shit!
Hey.
You know what this chart is, dawg?
The service log.
You were scheduled to service
the main bathroom last night.
Bathroom?
Nobody likes to mop up
piss and shit, homes.
Think I don't know that?
I must have misread it.
I did kitchen duty instead.
Well, that's one hell of a screw-up.
Okay. I'll get on it right now.
No, sit down.
- Well, you want me to...
- We're not done until I say we're done.
Sit.
You're a good homeboy,
so I'm gonna walk it out.
I snorted, shot, drank, grundled,
and douched more junk before I was 30
than Rick James did in his lifetime.
And I'm still kicking.
You want to know why?
Because I am the stair master.
Yeah, I climb all twelve steps
dozens of times, every day.
And that's admirable.
You skipped out on
your responsibilities.
And now there's a price to pay.
You need to make an inventory,
and I want you to make amends.
Okay, all right.
There are no excuses, all right?
I know. And that's why I
cancelled your day pass.
Now, I want you to go upstairs,
work on your self-appraisal,
and be at the 3:00 meeting.
- Don't do that. I got some real big...
- I know about your plans.
You'll have to reschedule for next week.
It won't be his birthday next week.
This is a baby bitch slap.
If I was really upset, I'd yank your
chain all the way back to Correction.
Bullshit!
Ding-dong! You just earned yourself
a 30-day pass suspension.
You can use the month to work on
your lack of respect!
Now get out of my office. Now!
Mr. Arnett, this is
Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens.
Not our first tango.
Raylan, please have a seat.
How do you take your coffee?
No, nothing for me, thank you.
The usual for me, Yvette. Make two
in case the deputy changes his mind.
You want a little kick?
Mr. Arnett likes a little kick.
- He'll have a nudge.
- Okay.
- That Piper Van Winkle?
- Yeah, Frankfort's own.
This particular concoction is a private
single-barrel made especially for me.
Takes the edge off those bitter beans.
- Thank you.
- You're welcome.
Just give me a buzz
if you need anything.
- You know I will.
- Okay.
Are you wearing pants?
I like to maintain my creases.
Stay sharp.
I suppose there's no reason to get up.
Hoping to have a civil discussion, avoid the
gunplay that erupted last time I saw you.
Yes, that was unfortunate.
But, you know, it's because of that
wild day that I agreed to this meeting.
- Is that right?
- Yeah. Quite frankly, I owe you one.
You advised Gary to sign over
that mall property to me.
- That's not why I'm here.
- I sold that property, and I took the money,
and I invested in foreclosures.
So when the market bounces back,
I'm gonna be managing a multimillion-dollar
fortune in Kentucky bluegrass.
So you are legitimate now.
The Frankfort branch of the Dixie Mafia
has lost its best wheeler-dealer.
You believe in the Dixie Mafia,
I got me a toy factory in the North Pole
you should invest in.
Does Yvette know about any of the
shit you did before real estate?
Yvette has no interest in my past.
Makes her so special.
And what about the new associates?
Do they know your résumé?
Are you blackmailing me?
No, this is just, you know,
good, old-fashioned leverage.
Well, putting aside
that you've jumped to
some rather scandalous
conclusions about me,
I can absolutely assure you
you're talking to the wrong guy here.
Who should I be talking to?
You might try the guy who tried
to kill me on that wild day.
- Wynn Duffy?
- I hear he's taken over some
management responsibilities
with a certain organisation
I have no interest in
being affiliated with.
That doesn't even exist, anyway.
Well,
if you talk to him,
and I'm gonna assume you will,
will you tell him that Oxy bus
he lost down in Harlan,
he should just write that off.
If he goes down there, chopping off limbs,
I'm gonna personally turn him inside out.
Would you tell him that for me?
- Well, as I said...
- Would you tell him that for me?
If I talk to him.
Dear Lord!
Was it Vinnie?
- Clinton?
- Clinton.
Do I call the police or the Marshals?
- No, we're not calling anybody.
- What?
I'm gonna bring him back.
I know where he's going.
- Hey.
- Hi.
You still do that before
you show a house?
What, vanilla on foil? Of course.
Ten minutes at 350, smells like fresh
cookies baking.
You know, every room
in the Biltmore mansion
was connected to the kitchen,
so anyone staying there
- would wake to the smell of...
- Fresh bread, yeah. I know.
- Told you that before, huh?
- Once or twice.
- Well, thanks for coming by.
- Listen, Gary.
Raylan told me that you talked
and what you said.
I didn't think he'd do that.
I just want you to know that anything
that happened with us
happened after you moved out, okay?
Thank you for that.
But the truth is, you wouldn't have
gone back to Raylan if I hadn't screwed up.
Yeah, why did you do that, Gary?
Why did you tell him that
you were gonna try and get me back?
I wanted him to know.
It wasn't because you
wanted me to know?
Well, I was hoping you already knew.
Winona...
I love you. I have never stopped.
And I do want you back. Simple as that.
How do you plan on doing that, Gary?
You know, fixing everything that
happened, restoring that trust?
'Cause I tell you what, it's gonna
take more than foil on vanilla.
Yeah, well, that's why
I asked you to come over.
Now, I know the only way to restore trust
is to be dead, straight honest, you know?
Not hide anything I might want to hide.
All right. So what is it?
We need to get a divorce.
Hey. What's going on?
A call came in from a receptionist
at the halfway house
where my brother-in-law, Clinton,
was assigned for parole.
Apparently, Clinton beat the shit out of
his programme manager and took off.
- Your brother-in-law is on parole?
- Long story.
The receptionist sat on her ass for over
an hour before she called it in.
The programme
manager told her not to.
He said he knew where Clinton was headed,
and he wanted to bring him in himself.
Does the receptionist know
where he's headed?
- Nope.
- It's my nephew, Nick,
Clinton's son. It's his birthday.
I'm guessing he'll make a beeline
toward Nick's school.
You already put a BOLO out on him?
Nah, I figured since he's your
brother-in-law, I'd just let it slide.
We'll need a team
to lock down Nick's campus.
Absolutely, but you
won't be taking lead.
- Chief...
- No.
You just get Nick, and you bring him
back here. Raylan, you set up and wait.
Hey, how much of a bad guy
is her brother-in-law?
"Heads in a duffel bag"
or just an asshole?
He killed her sister.
Flex.
- You look good.
- Been a long while, bro.
Better than last time I saw you.
Can we spit?
Get in.
Cool.
You better not be looking to score.
I'm out of the trade.
Okay.
I'm becoming a magician,
like that Mindfreak guy.
I'm gonna be the first big,
badass black magician.
Learning all the basics on YouTube.
I can do shit with a coin would
make your eyes pop out.
You got a name for your act?
Just Flex. Not "The Amazing Flex"
or none of that shit. Just Flex.
Flex.
Got muscle
and attitude.
How you been?
You look clean.
I quit after I copped to the truth.
You ain't looking to score,
what you out here for?
I got this here for my little man.
It's his birthday.
What is that?
Before I went in, this here
is all he ever wanted.
That and go to Billy the Kidzone.
It's like Chuck E. Cheese.
Pizza, games,
only with cowboys.
How old's your boy?
12 today.
Anyhow, I got to go pick him up
from school today.
Catch a ride?
No can do. I got errands.
Okay. You know, spot me $100.
I got to be at Man O'War before 3:00.
Won't make it fooling around
on that bus, you know.
Strict policy, chief.
I don't loan out money.
$75. I'll get you right back.
This conversation's done.
Get out.
Do me a solid, man.
I'm trying to go get my boy.
This is bullshit, man. It's real bullshit!
Since when did you
become such a pussy?
Since you became a bitch.
- Get out!
- Get your hands off me!
Get your hands off me!
Hey, hey!
God! Shit!
Come back here! Hey!
You hurt my hand!
Can I leave the door open?
Open's good.
What are you gonna tell them?
I heard the whole thing.
Don't even bother lying about it.
Well, I wasn't gonna lie to you about it.
And...
I'm gonna tell them no.
That's not what you said last night.
Well, I said I'd think about it.
You know I won't tolerate
criminal activity.
Well, I have no interest in that.
Then why didn't you just
say no when they asked?
I was being polite.
Polite?
Polite.
Ava, you have my word.
You have a good day.
Suspect approaching, black Chevy
Chevelle with racing stripes.
US Marshals!
I work with your sister-in-law,
Rachel Brooks.
Your son is in a safe place.
Just came to give my boy a gift.
Give it to me. I'll see he gets it.
Now I need you to shut off your car.
Nice car.
Here's one for you.
I found you a husband.
Are you on a dating site?
You were supposed to
be playing solitaire.
- It's funny.
- I know. He's old,
and he's white.
But he gets out in three years.
- Hey, Winona.
- Raylan.
- You okay?
- Yeah, I'm fine. Why, do I not look okay?
Well, you look...
- It's just, I got to...
- Because I'm not okay.
- I'm sorry.
- For what?
Whatever I did or didn't do.
Why do you assume that when
I'm upset, I'm upset with you?
You're usually upset with me.
That's true.
Gary asked me to his office.
He said we need to get a divorce.
Wonderful.
I mean, I'm so sorry.
He only said it because
our mortgage is upside down.
We owe more on the house
than what it's worth.
I know what "upside down" means.
Okay. I guess he figures
that if we get a divorce,
then I can give him the house
in the agreement,
and then he's the only one who's
gonna be dragged under in all this,
and that would make me
feel guiltier than shit,
because the only reason we have this great
big house is because I wanted one.
He's a damn genius.
He suggests divorce, knowing you'd
feel too guilty to follow through.
Well-played, Gary.
What are you talking about?
He's just trying to show
you he's a good guy.
And somehow being a good guy
is underhanded?
He's just trying to win you back.
I still don't see why that's
such a big problem.
How much you need to keep the house?
Why? Is that gonna be
your big play to win me?
I have savings.
How much?
$800, $900 easy.
- I really should go.
- Okay.
What's up, Nick?
I have a bunch of these already.
Well, now you got one more.
What are you doing?
Finding Rachel a husband.
Nick, go get a soda.
You're gonna end up bitter and alone.
You let Clinton get away.
- You take this call?
- Five minutes ago.
What's he want?
I don't know. I took down the number.
Be grateful for that.
Anything on the partial?
The only Chevelle with those letters
belongs to a drug dealer...
Look no further.
By the name of Ralph Beeman.
Goes by the name of Flex.
I put out a BOLO on him.
Anything from your mother?
No. I tried calling. There's no response.
I'm heading there now.
Do you want to go there,
or do you need to go there?
You honestly think I want to
cap my brother-in-law?
Raylan, go with her.
You want me to shoot him?
Just reading his file here. How did he...
Kill my sister?
Driving while high.
Wrapped their Miata
around a telephone pole.
Shawnee went through the windshield.
Ma, open up!
Ma!
Ma!
He kept saying he wanted my car.
I said I flushed the key.
Did you?
No, but it sounded good.
And then you started shooting.
You should spend some
time at the range.
She has.
Almost clipped his arm a couple of times,
just trying to keep him from leaving.
He took your gun?
And my extra clip.
Rachel, honey, I want you to promise me,
you catch him, you won't shoot him.
You just tried to shoot him yourself.
I was just trying to keep him still.
You're the one who wants to kill him.
Why does everyone think I'm
so hell-bent on killing him?
I know you blame him, but he...
Of course I blame him.
He wanted to help her.
Help her?
Clinton tried to save Shawnee's life.
- Okay.
- She overdosed.
This man tied you down in your own
home, and now you're defending him.
I am not defending him!
I'm trying to explain him!
He was taking Shawnee to the
emergency room when they crashed.
Okay. Givens.
Clinton's got problems,
but he loved your sister.
Where?
- Loved her enough to pump her with poison.
- On our way.
She was addicted before she met him.
You know that.
Clinton called the office looking
for you. Wants to make a deal.
Another Coke?
Why stop at four?
Want me to bring this back in the
kitchen, warm it up?
Sure. I should have
waited to order, anyhow.
Someone's running late, huh?
Yeah. He and his aunt better hurry up,
or he ain't getting his birthday present.
Ain't that right, Furbot?
I don't know why this
thing speaks Chinese.
Okay, that's enough out of you.
Clinton! What are you doing?
Come on. We're going.
I don't think so.
I told you it's my boy's birthday.
Well, he ain't here.
Sophie? Can I see you for a moment?
Just a second. Can I get you anything?
- Right now or you're fired!
- Okay!
Mr. Cranky Pants needs a
chocolate bar. I'll be right back.
Let's go.
You didn't get the impression
I was serious this morning?
I'd kindly give you another go-round,
if that's what you want.
You want to threaten me, smart guy?
Beat me down again?
I'm here to help, asshole.
I'm giving you another chance.
Why?
I don't run the house
for the fun of it, Clinton.
It's what I believe in. It's what I do.
It's why I didn't call the police.
That's all right, 'cause I just did.
What?
Oh, shit.
Who is he?
Who am I?
Who are you?
I'm an associate of
none of your goddamn business.
You got to be kidding me.
Yeah, that's right.
We got some shit to talk about.
And that piece you got underneath,
just put it up on the table slow.
I conversate best when
I'm nice and relaxed.
Let me tell you something, slick,
whatever this is about, we can do it the
easy way. Isn't that right, Clinton?
Shut up, Olander.
Yeah, man, shut up.
Go play Donkey Kong.
I'm an officer of the law.
Put the gun down.
You're moving to the top
of my list real fast.
We're adults.
We're gonna talk this through.
We don't need guns.
You have any idea the
ramifications of what you did?
I was gonna be a magician, you dick.
How the hell am I supposed to
do magic with this hand now?
I'm not!
That's the answer!
I'm not.
Your punk ass could
have gave me a ride.
This is my fault now?
He's right, Clinton.
We don't blame other peo...
Where's my car?
I ain't got it, bro.
See, Clinton, that's the wrong answer.
What you're supposed to say is,
"Of course you don't see it out front,
Flex, since I parked it in the back."
But you didn't say that.
I ditched it.
Where?
'Cause I had a whole shitload of dope
tucked into the panels of that car.
Which hand you jack off with?
US Marshals! No one move!
Don't shoot!
Get back! Get back!
Clinton.
Where's my son?
You honestly thought
I'd bring him here?
I need to see my son!
I just wanted to give him his gift.
Shit.
- Get back!
- Don't shoot.
You don't come any closer.
Don't shoot.
Is this how you want Nick to
remember his 12th birthday?
His father shooting an innocent man?
Get up!
I loved your sister.
So did I.
Why do I have the office where
the deputies shoot people?
Nothing wrong with this one.
Meaning that there are things wrong
with the other ones you've done?
Tell you the only thing wrong with this
shooting. She reacted faster than I did.
You're getting old.
Not as old as you.
And you're a dick.
I'll talk to her tomorrow, but you're gonna
have to walk her through the process.
Okay. I will.
I hope this doesn't
affect her ambitions.
I do, too.
She's the best marshal I've got.
You realise I'm sitting right here?
I do.
How'd it go in Frankfort?
Arnett swears he's out of the game.
Pointed me to the man who used to
be his gun thug, Wynn Duffy.
I also got a call from
Dewey Crowe's lawyer.
Concerning?
Says Dewey knows about some
shit going down in Harlan
that might be worth our while.
And what do you think?
Knowing Dewey? Bullshit.
Look at you, boy.
Growing all tall and getting muscles.
You shaving yet?
I'm 12.
I got this for you.
Thanks.
You know what that is?
A Furby?
Furbot.
It's a cheap knockoff.
It only spoke Chinese.
Chinese? How's it work?
It doesn't.
Somebody shot it.
Who would shoot Furby?
What did he ever do to anybody?
Can I keep it?
If you want.
What's this stain here?
Is that chocolate?
No. That's...
That's blood.
When I was Nick's age,
before my father's cancer,
I thought we were the Cosbys.
My parents had good jobs.
There was a feast on the table
after church on Sundays.
Shawnee and I would ride our
Huffys around the neighbourhood.
We had good hair and
made straight A's.
Except, as my mother reminds me,
that wasn't reality.
The jobs weren't all that good, and
my father was never a happy man,
even before he got sick.
And Shawnee was
smoking pot at nine and
running away to smoke
heroin at fifteen.
I never bore any illusions that my
family was the Cosbys.
Your family wasn't funny.
At least you got to shoot your father.
Mine had the nerve to die before I got back
from basic with skills and a loaded weapon.
You didn't miss much.
I thought it was gonna be
way more fun than it was.
- You heading out?
- In a minute.
I'll wait.
Don't.
You having any second
thoughts about the shooting?
Not really.
You will.
But if you ever have any
serious doubts, ask me.
I'll tell you.
You did what had to be done.
Hey, Ezekiel.
Kyle.
You didn't think you'd get to leave
without seeing me, did you?
I thought about your request
and must politely decline.
What are you talking about?
Well, as I've made
myself abundantly clear,
I'm no longer in that line of work.
You ain't even heard the scheme yet.
Right now I know nothing about it.
If anyone asks, I'll stick to that.
Your share alone is $40,000.
You're wasting your time.
That doghole pays people in cash
at the end of every shift.
No more than $20,000 at any
one time precisely for this reason.
You notice, huh?
Well, what would you say
if somebody had a friend
who worked for the
armoured-car company
who could provide engine trouble
four days running,
stalling deliveries so there would be
$80,000 cash at one time?
Then I'd say there's still no way to get down
off this mountain without getting caught.
What if there's a way not
only you not get caught,
but get treated like a hero?
Like one of those
miners down in Chile?