Growing up in Harlan County gave her a shared history with Deputy U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens. A history that made the two Kentucky natives cynical to the outside world.
However, after meeting former Army Ranger, Tim Gutterson, Jolene 'Jo' Taylor's p...
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"There is another card we haven't played yet," Jo established to the Marshals circled around at a loss for their next move. "But it's a drastic one."
Boyd had failed to entrap Darryl with the bricks of heroin or a taped confession to Art's attempted murder but through no fault of his own. No, that responsibility lay solely at Dewey Crowe's feet. A man who had single-handedly blown the entire operation in spectacular fashion. His spouting off about drug dealing dreams and killing Mercer had landed him in custody instead; everyone else left holding nothing more than their dicks after the venture.
They were directionless and more than a little desperate, so when she offered an alternative solution, everyone leaned in to hear it with anticipation.
"Well, we're all ears," Raylan encouraged, his frame stiff with impatience.
It was more than a little risky, probably too presumptuous, but there seemed no other avenue to affect change. "I'm gonna need you and Vasquez to come with me," she instructed her brother, who immediately waved down the nearby AUSA. "We're gonna have a little visit with Judge Reardon."
She detailed the plan for a split audience during the elevator ride upstairs. David remained hesitant, but Raylan saw the logic of it, even if the necessity was embroiled with obvious pratfalls. Before long, the trio stood before the notorious Hammer, who appeared more than a little inconvenienced by their impromptu request for a meeting.
"Your Honor, he...and Ms. Taylor feel this is the only option left, the only way to move forward," David stated, absolving himself of all accountability in the suggestion.
"And you agree with them?" Reardon questioned from his seated position, eyeing each with a dissecting stare.
"No, personally, I don't like the play. Also, her involvement could jeopardize the case," the ADA contended with a nod in her direction, and Jo couldn't help but roll her eyes. "But, yes, I agree, we've exhausted our options."
"We'll chalk this up to advising council should anyone question it in the future," The Judge defended her tenuous inclusion in the discussion. "But, what are the odds this could work?" He persisted in his skepticism.
"I'm not as familiar with the parties as..." David fumbled with his guessing but was interrupted.
"50/50," Raylan inserted, and the odds weren't to anyone's liking.
Eyebrows shot to meet a receding hairline as Reardon balked. "Jesus Christ in a lunch box. That's a big bet. High stakes. If you're correct and the boy didn't do it..."
Raylan came with a ready defense, once again dissolving an argument in its tracks. "He absolutely did not do it."
The only person still believing Kendal had shot Art was presently upstairs, living in obstinate ignorance. Wendy was adamant about putting faith in the wrong family member, her brother, instead of her son.
