All language subtitles for Justified S01E10

Previously on Justified...

They'll come into a town like Somerset
and they'll blow up a car.

Then while the cops are busy,
they'll go rob a bank.

Fire in the hole!

Fandi is Ethiopian by way of Jamaica
by way of being completely full of shit.

Well, Reverend? What do you think?

I don't know, you know. It was dark,
and the man was far away.

If you've had anybody shoot a rocket at you,
you know, I just run.

The only viable charges
that we have against him

are predicated upon the testimony
of Ms. Crowder and yourself.

And now that you both have been
compromised as witnesses,

we're gonna have to release Boyd Crowder.

So, you get out of McCreary,
you come back home to Harlan,

and you go straight back to cooking
and using methamphetamine?

- And now you want to stop.
- I surely do.

All of it?

Are you willing to forsake your life of crime,

your drug addiction,
and walk the road of righteousness?

I am.

Whatever it takes?

What if I was to say to you

that you use methamphetamine again,
I'll shoot you in the head?

I wouldn't use again?

Now, all them threats made against you,
long down the years, all them,

"God damn it, Bobby Joe, you better stop
using methamphetamine or else!"

Did they have any effect?

No.

You know why?

No.

'Cause the stick don't work, son.

Now, the only thing that does work
is the carrot!

The carrot that we offer in this church
is a purpose, a reason for being,

much greater than
any of you have ever known.

Why, US Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens
played a pivotal role in my story.

And while we don't have saints
in our church,

if we did, he would be the first...
Saint Raylan.

For he worked a miracle in my life
and was the agent of my salvation.

Patron saint of lost causes, I suspect.

Well, there already is one...
That's Saint Jude.

Oh, well, there you go, another lost cause.

Well, I hope there's a story
to go with that face.

Nothing dramatic.

- We weren't too hard to find, were we?
- No, no. Your directions were clear.

Your intent, not so much.

Flock, if you will excuse me for a moment.
Let's take a walk.

Flock?

Devil told me you went by to see him.

Were you able to get him
to testify against me?

- I heard you're still trying to make a case.
- Yeah, I am. I talked to Dewey, too.

Couldn't get nothing there, either.

You know, he gets out soon.

I get the feeling he's looking forward to
joining your Boy Scout camp.

- It's a church, Raylan.
- The old one was better.

In your dark imagining, Raylan,
what is it that you think I'm up to?

Given the talent pool you've got here,

I assume you're gonna do
what you always done,

steal money and blow shit up.

We will not be robbing banks.

Could you be any more vague?

All of us here, every single one of us,
have repaid our debts to society.

No, no, no, not you. Not by a long shot.

Well, out here, in our church, we can
begin to repay our debts to God

by righteous living, righteous action.

Can I go now?

Well, you sure you don't want a meal?
Our food is simple, but it's good.

No, I stopped at a Hardee's on the way.

I wouldn't mind addressing
the congregation before I went.

Would that be all right?

Excuse me!
We have us a guest speaker today.

- Please, have at it.
- Yeah.

Dear Lord, before we eat this meal,
we ask forgiveness for our sins,

especially Boyd, who blew up a black church
with a rocket launcher,

and afterwards,
he shot his associate, Jared Hale,

in the back of the head
out on Tates Creek Bridge.

Let the image of Jared's brain matter on that
windshield not dampen our appetites,

but may the knowledge of Boyd's past sins
help guide these men.

May this food provide them
with all the nourishment they need.

But if it does not,
may they find comfort in knowing

that the United States Marshals Service
is offering $50,000 to any individual

providing information
that'll put Boyd back in prison.

Cash or check.

We can make it out to them,
or to Jesus, whoever they want.

In your name, we pray. Amen.

Boyd.

Raylan.

God damn it!

In here?

Well, what are you waiting for?
I'm injured here!

Harder. Harder! Now, spit it out.

This here's Brandy.
She's taking precautionary measures.

- Hi.
- Did I say stop?

I'm about to hop in the sack.
Next thing you know,

a goddamn Cottonmouth about to
fix its fangs right into my you-know-what.

That would have been the case,
I would have called Jack Kevorkian

instead of 911.

Yeah, it was a matter of life and death.
It was biblical, so...

Just relax, Your Honor.
We'll get you squared away.

Ma'am, you can stop sucking.

Should I even ask how
a man can go on a week's R&R

and come back looking like
he's been run over by an F-150?

- Fishing.
- Did you take your gun fishing?

You didn't think the LPD was gonna tell
me about that little shootout you got into?

I wasn't in a shootout, I was just near one.

Before we go, what's going on
with the Boyd Crowder case?

No, Raylan.

The only reason that you are here is because
you have been personally requested.

Last night, Judge Michael Reardon,

who we know affectionately
as "Mike the Hammer,"

was bitten by a poisonous snake
about six inches from home plate.

The Judge is a very colorful character,
as we know.

He likes to carry a sidearm under his robe

in case anybody decides to
light up the bench.

Plenty of people would have cause.
That's hate mail. He sent it over for review.

So these are his trophies from past years?

Something like that,
only that's the last six months.

Now, look, I want you to cross-reference
all the arrest records and the parolees

and see if we can't come up
with somebody from the backwoods

who's used to handling snakes
and could have used one for a weapon.

And, Nelson,
you're gonna take the day detail,

and, Raylan, he has specifically
requested you for the night.

- My nights are free.
- Not anymore.

I'm telling you,
you just toss that sucker in there... Boom.

- Here, watch.
- Got it. You do it.

- I got it, right there. Go ahead.
- Yeah.

- Just put it in.
- All right.

- I told you.
- Hello, Mickey.

Well, what are you doing out here, Boyd?

I already told your father we ain't paying.

Well, I'm not here on behalf of my father.
At least not my Earthly one.

Hello, there, masked man!

If you ain't out here extorting payment,
then what can I do for ya?

- You can stop what you're doing here.
- Playing bullets?

Cooking methamphetamine.

Well, I don't know
what you're talking about, Boyd.

Methamphetamine is a modern-day plague,
like locusts, only worse.

The havoc that it has wreaked
upon the people of Harlan County

and places like it is immeasurable.

Now, you know what the problem with
redneck Russian roulette is, don't you?

What's that?

Well, you get so distracted,
you can't hear nothing.

Bobby Joe, you the cause of all this?

Bobby Joe joined the winning team.
There's always room for three more.

Now, you listen up, you crazy little shit.

You best get to the shooting,
or you all get the hell out of here.

You got me all wrong, Mick.
I come in peace, and I will leave in peace.

But if I come back out here again
and you're still cooking up that poison...

Well, be careful what you're doing in there,
masked man.

I hear these things blow up all the time.

Court is adjourned
till 8:30 tomorrow morning.

- Dunlop.
- He's all yours.

Your Honor.

Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, son.
Look at you.

You are every inch
the goddamn gunslinger I heard.

I like the war wounds, too.

It's good to know
that you don't mind mixing it up.

Yeah. Rumors are true.
Nothing but a bathing suit and Brownie.

- I heard about the gun.
- Goddamn right you did.

Well, that chickenshit snake charmer
wouldn't come into my courtroom,

'cause he knew I would have
peeled a couple right back at him.

- And the swimwear?
- My personality invites derision.

Rumor was I was mental.

Then it really changed to I was a pervert
who wore ladies' underwear.

And then, what was it?
A thong under my robe.

Then one day I said, "Well, the hell with it,"
and I went right at the joke.

The thing is, it's comfortable.

Tried it on and it fit. Sure, I get that.

If it adds to the legend, so much the better.

- Frankly, Your Honor, I get that, too.
- I knew you would.

You can knock off that "Your Honor" stuff.
"Sir" is fine.

- Hey, what, uh, what are you packing?
- .45-caliber Glock.

Damn, all I got's a.38. But you know what?

I practice every week at the range,
center mass 9 times out of 10.

I know what you're thinking.

You're thinking, "Sure, hell,
I could hit the sweet spot on 100 targets,

"but I would still have no idea
what it's like to pull and put down a man."

And that's true. That's why I picked you.

I know that you're in all sorts of shit

from David Vasquez
over that Tommy Bucks shooting in Miami.

I look at those reports,
and I say, "Well done!"

You know, one less predator
to come after the herd.

Am I right, huh? I know I am.
You don't have to answer me.

Let's get.

What the hell?

God damn it! Get away from me.

God damn it.

Carbon monoxide.

Apparently, there was a failure
in the Judge's exhaust system,

and it was being pumped into the interior.

Sounds about as accidental
as a snake in the bed.

So, how is the Judge treating you?

Did you know he wore a red Speedo
under his gown?

That's always been the legend.
Never had it confirmed until now.

Well, I appreciate you warning me.

Whoever that dickhead is,
I got no respect for him, you know?

Come at me with a gun, be a man.
We got any suspects?

- Every judge has his enemies, huh?
- And me in particular, yeah.

"Mike the Hammer
and his Draconian sentences."

Am I saying that right, "Draconian"?

Anyway, I'm supposed to be a friend
to the prosecutor.

That's what they say.
Well, guilty as charged.

Do you have any idea who it could be?

Honestly, Deputy, I've adjudicated
so many cases, they're all a blur.

I'll tell you what,
just give me a list of your top five suspects.

I'll take a look at it, see who pops.

Better yet, make it a top ten list,
we'll put my ex-wives on it.

Are you gonna marry that gal
you chucked the Crowder case over?

Sorry. Courthouse scuttlebutt.

- What was her name?
- Ava.

- Was she worth it?
- Seemed so at the time.

Yeah. Yeah, well, I'm not the type
to stare at the ice in my glass.

Nothing but regret there.

I'm not sure that's what I was getting at.

Well, I hope so, because that ain't no good,

just picking over old bones, is it?

You need to, you make a change.
You keep moving. You want another one?

No, I'll just keep sucking on my ice
for a while.

Okay.

Can I ask you your opinion on
something, though, sir?

That's my raison d'être, ain't it?
Shoot.

Well, it's about Ava,
since you brought her up.

You know, prior to my involvement with her,
she shot and killed her husband, Bowman,

with a hunting rifle.

And since then, she's been getting threats
from the entire Crowder clan, pretty much.

But her probation doesn't allow her
to get out of the state of Kentucky.

And you want me to call her judge
down in Harlan.

No way. Absolutely not.
It's not gonna happen.

You know, I'm not gonna piss
in another man's sandbox.

Fair enough.

- Cousin Johnny!
- Hello, Boyd.

I like what you've done with the place.

Well, you know what Rome looked like
before it became Rome, don't you?

Some huts on the side of a hill,
little stream running through it.

What it became... Well, as they say,
it didn't happen in a day.

So, you're building Rome?

Well, I don't think this property
is zoned for that.

As good as it is to see you, primo,
and it's mighty good,

I don't think you came all the way out here
to speak to me about ancient Rome.

Did my daddy send you?

Well, he hasn't seen much of you
since he brought you back to Harlan.

Well, I told him I was starting a church.

Yeah, and he embraces that, Boyd,
with all his might.

It's always good to have
someone in the family praying for you.

Well, that I am.

I don't suppose you coming out here

has anything to do with my visit
to Ransom Holler yesterday?

Course it does.

Mickey called your daddy,
asked if he sent you.

- Said you threatened to blow up his shit.
- Well, that's not true.

I asked him to shut down his poison factory

and merely made an observation
about its combustibility.

Well, that's just you being clever, isn't it?

Blood is blood, Cousin.
But you don't screw with a man's business.

Well, as I heard it from Mickey,
my father has no business with him.

Well, he will.
Old Bo can be mighty persuasive.

I remember.

Well, you all done here?

You know, Boyd, actually, one more word.

In private.

- What have you got going on here?
- A church.

Yeah, see, I can't tell
if you're full of shit or not.

Yeah, well, have a little faith, Cousin.

Okay. Well, listen, all I know

is that white-supremacy thing you had
going on before, that was on the money.

Shit, you want to rob some banks,

get some of them knucklehead Nazis
do it for you.

That shit was genius.

Now, you come up with something
that smart again, I'll back your play.

And what about my daddy?

Your daddy. Come on, man.
Old Bo, he's got, what, 10 years left, at best?

He's on the down slope.

Well, aren't we all, unless we start taking
the path that leads up?

See, now, there you go again.
Bullshit or true belief, I just can't tell.

Truth always sounds like lies to a sinner.

Man, you are good, Cousin.

Excuse me!

What do you want?

Police, huh?

I'm not a cop.
I am a deputy, a US Marshal.

- What is your name?
- Bunny Higgins.

I would have guessed "Terrance"
or "Wesley."

Yeah, I got an Uncle Leslie,
which is kind of weird.

Yeah. And, what's going on there
with your eyes?

Pink eye. It's very contagious,
I wouldn't be touching me.

I probably won't.

I am looking for a man of the cloth,
sometimes uses this address.

His name is Pastor Israel Fandi.

No. Never heard of him.

He had a church not far from here.
Somebody blew it up.

No, I can't help you.

- And you're sure?
- Yeah, positive.

So I'm gonna get back to my inventory, so...

- Oh! Shit.
- Hey, man!

I thought that was plastic.

Oh, damn.

- Listen, Bunny Rabbit.
- Not from the high end, man. Come on.

I'm trying to incarcerate a very bad man,
and Pastor Fandi may aid me in doing so.

So, unless you want me to continue to be
hilariously clumsy in your store,

why don't you tell me where he is?

All right, look, I haven't seen him in months.

After they blew up the church.
Look. He got paranoid, man. He took off.

- Hey...
- Where is he?

One of the deacons, from his old church?
He does yard work for my grandma.

- So you should go talk to him, man. No.
- Oh, my God.

299 Tibbs.

Mrs. Davis, all right?

- 299 Tibbs, Mrs. Davis.
- Yeah.

Okay. I broke it, I bought it.
Take care of those eyes.

"Landscaping," they call it.

In my day, we called it "cutting the grass."

Ma'am, I need to talk to
the men who cut your grass.

Why don't you check down the block?
See, he cut my house for free.

Yeah, hoping that the other neighbors
would admire his work and hire him.

And they did, too!

- They didn't charge you?
- Not one single dime.

Don't you tell my neighbors, though.

Especially that one over there,
across the street, Linda.

Oh, she's a bitch on wheels.

- Are you starting a vegetable garden?
- I don't know.

I don't get back here very much,
with this hip.

But he said they keep taking out weeds.

Would you mind telling me
if you recognize this gentleman?

Looks like Otis.

- Otis?
- The landscaping fella.

And do you know where I could find him?

Right here, tomorrow afternoon. Come on.

His last-known residence was Wichita.

- And where have you been?
- Personal business.

That's why they call it "personal".

You... You got that top ten list
for the Judge for me?

I do. And it wasn't easy
narrowing it down to 10.

They don't call him "Mike the Hammer"
for nothing.

Every time that gavel drops,

he just hits them with
the maximum sentence,

plus asset forfeiture, court costs...
Everything he can throw at them.

Well, as advertised, he's colorful.
Loves his job.

No, this is something more.

I got out the old court records going all
the way back to his first days on the bench.

And that's when I find Kit McKendrie.

- Kit McKendrie trying to kill the Judge?
- No, Mr. McKendrie got off with time served.

And therein lies a tale.

Yeah, Raylan, there's the Melanie twins,
right there. Those are my favorite.

- Hey, Donna. Good to see you. Hey, Becka.
- Hi!

Have a sit right here. Enjoy the view.

Judge?

Well, hey, darling.
Hey, thanks again for saving my life.

You know what everyone's calling me now.

- What?
- Snake charmer.

Well, they don't know how right they are.

I know what he's having. What'll you have?

He'll have what I'm having,
or he won't have anything at all.

- And a water?
- Yeah.

She's giving you the eye! Did you see it?

Yeah, you got my permission, by the way.

Hey, I was at the office earlier.

One of the other deputies
was reviewing your cases.

He found one that was curious.

A fella name of Kit McKendrie.

McKendrie. Yeah.

You remember him?

I remember his face,
his greasy hair, stained teeth.

- Well, what was the deal there?
- Did you read about the case?

Just the bare bones.

Thanks, darling. Yeah, I had him in my court,
before I got to federal. First-time offender.

Everything in me said that boy was evil.

He had a daddy
used to stub butts out on his arm.

Swear to Christ, there were cigarette burns
all the way up to his shoulder.

So, I pushed down what my gut said,
I give him a cream-puff 18 months,

banged it down to time served.

About a year later,
McKendrie shot a six-year-old.

And the state trooper who come to get him.

I looked into his eyes,
and I knew he was no good,

but I let my feelings interfere. Never again.

Well, you worried about Boyd Crowder
out in the world?

Well, I have my concerns.

- You gonna do something about it?
- I was told not to go near him.

But you are, aren't you?

Going out to the American Gulag.

Hell, they try to civilize everything,
down to cowboy titty bars.

Your Honor.
Just one minute, before you go.

- Hey, man, what's your deal?
- Turn around.

- Let me get a good look at you.
- Take a walk, Tinker Bell. It ain't like that.

Well, what's it like?

- Do I know you?
- Doesn't matter, does it?

Well, if I got a beef with you,
I'd like to know about it.

Deputy US Marshal.

Now, I'm gonna pat you down.
I need your arms up.

Okay, good.

That tickles, Uncle Billy.
I don't think I like that game.

Your Honor, ring any bells?

Hell, I don't know. See so many of them.

- What's your name, sport?
- Me? George Jefferson.

- Got any I. D., George?
- You know what? I don't.

Imagine that.

Well, I don't know if you're a cop,

or if you're just a homo
pretending to be a cop,

but either way, I'm gonna wash up and go,
unless there's a law against that.

Well, why don't you just tell me
why you're eyeing the old bull

in a bar full of beautiful ladies?

What do you want me to say?
I'm a people person!

- People person?
- That's right.

Look, I've never seen
that old geezer in my life.

So if you don't mind, I got a bus to catch.

No, no, no.
That's not the way this works.

The way this works is I go, you stay.

Count to 100.

Ready for more?

That's him. That's the one I saw.

I am taking you downtown!
Your old man's still got some moves.

Come on, Jake, you're not even trying.

Jake, come on! Throw up some D.
Let's go!

I don't like one-on-one.

Look, we're just goofing.
You don't have to be any good.

I didn't say I wasn't good, Virgil.
I said I didn't like it.

Oh, I see. Talking trash, are you?

I see how you do.
Let's see what you got, yo.

- Can we go now?
- Jake, I only get to see you, like...

You're a real little shit, you know that?

Hey, Jake, you want to get a burger?
Burger or something?

- You're early. You already sick of him?
- Of course not.

I wasn't talking to you.

Virgil Corum.

I saw him at the crash site,
then again at the bar the Judge frequents.

I spoke to him,
but I had nothing to hold him.

He got 15 years for possession with
intent from Judge Michael Reardon.

Did he even make your top ten list?

He wasn't even in the top 50.

He was released five weeks ago
after serving eight.

Before his bust, he was in animal control,
which could explain the snake.

Well, make sure everybody on the detail
has his picture.

How's his address?

It's a halfway house,
and they haven't seen him for a while.

They say he go visits his kid.
I got a phone number for his ex-wife.

Well, let's find him and talk to him.

Hey, you get an address for Virgil's ex,
you give me a call?

Something I got to take care of.

Hey! Pastor Fandi!

You got the wrong guy, my man.

No, I don't think so.

Right back. Let's walk.

Okay.

So, you remember me?

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.
You went to a Peter Tosh concert once.

What do you want?

Boyd Crowder.
Guy who blew up your church?

- Yeah.
- Just got out of prison.

- So what's that got to do with me?
- Your testimony could put him back in.

- How'd he get out of jail so soon?
- Well, there was a problem with his case.

What, some lawyer forgets to dot an "I",

all of a sudden,
I'm dragged back in this shit?

I'm just asking you to do what you
should have done three months ago.

- Make me.
- I'm sorry?

You want me to testify, make me.

And he does something like that again,
this time someone gets hurt,

you could have stopped it and didn't,
that doesn't bother you?

Why don't you ask the guy who screwed up
if it bothers him?

Oh, shit.

It was you.
Oh, this is sweet.

Good luck. I got to go mow.

What you gonna do?
You gonna put a gun to my head?

You gonna shoot me if I don't testify?

Yeah, Tim, what do you want?

You seen Virgil recently?

About a half an hour ago,
when he brought Jake back.

- Do you know where he might be now?
- I ain't got the faintest idea.

Does Jake?

Jake!

- What?
- Come here! And don't you yell at me!

- You yelled at me!
- Just get over here.

Did Virgil say where he's going
or what he's doing or where he's staying?

No.

Well, that's all you got there.

Ma'am, your ex-husband is a possible
suspect in a threat against a federal judge.

Reardon?
The one who put him away?

I hope Virgil will kill that son of a bitch.
Probably not supposed to say that, am I?

Any letters he might have sent
that have a return address on them?

There was something,
came earlier this week.

Not from him, you know, but on his behalf.

You want me to see
if I can find that for you?

All right.

Okay, so, why him more than any other?
What's his sob story?

I think with him it's more about his family.

Wife and kid still trying to
crawl out from under the rubble.

You know,
I bet if I met Mr. Virgil Corum at a bar,

sat next to him on an airplane
and heard his story,

I would feel his pain, and I would care.

But as a judge, it's not my job to care.

You care about Tommy Bucks?
Maybe he had a son.

Doesn't know him as a stone killer,
only knows him as "Dad."

- Would you care?
- Would I care?

Would it have changed what you did?
No, sir. Well, at least I hope not.

You made the call, you did what you had to.
No regrets.

The gun went off, too.

See how he holds that thing?

- What the hell?
- What happened?

You top off that generator like I told you?

- Yeah, I did!
- Give me that thing.

- Evening, bitches!
- What the hell?

Easy, easy. Put it down. Put it down.
You want to lose that hand?

- Come on.
- Come on with me. Let's go.

Stupid...

Let it not be said that I did not give you
an opportunity to amend your ways.

Got the money.

What are you doing?

- God, no. No, no, don't!
- Shut up.

No, no! You son of a bitch!
God damn you!

Fire in the hole.

Oh, you bastard.
Gil was in the back.

You killed him.

You killed Gil.

Come here. Come on.

You know what? I got to piss. Yeah.

Let me just clear it first.

Sorry, sir. US Marshals.
You just finish your business.

Asshole.

I do. I get it.

Hey, don't move! Swear to God,
you make another move, I shoot the Judge!

Can we agree the young lady can go?

No. I think she ought to know
the kind of dick she's sucking.

- Mr. Corum...
- No, I am talking to the Judge,

and the only thing I want from him
is the one thing I couldn't get before...

- His attention!
- Well, I think you got it.

Yeah, I had to put a goddamn gun
to his head, didn't I?

- Virgil...
- No, Marshal, this is my courtroom,

and you are overruled.
I'll deal with you later.

You're part of this.

- Me?
- Yeah!

Marshals come in,
they took everything from me!

Shit! Shit!

Virgil, turn around!
Show me your hands!

Now, don't you move.

You didn't even recognize me.

- What?
- Five feet away in that bathroom,

and you had no idea who I was.

I was just another faceless shitbird
to come through your courtroom.

Ain't that about right?

Virgil, could you shut up a minute?
Just need to make a phone call.

- 911. What's your emergency?
- US Marshal Raylan Givens.

I'm in the alley outside the
Cowboy Palace Saloon out on Airport Road.

Shots fired, one man shot.
I need an ambulance and the usual.

Okay, go on.

Yeah, I'm a shitbird. I did the crime,
I did the time, I paid the consequences!

Virgil, show me your hands.
Keep them up.

Yeah! Have you ever
paid the consequences, Judge?

I got to listen to this shit?
Are you kidding me?

- Put a bullet in him, it's the least you can do.
- Why do you got to go after my family?

They're already riding that poverty line.

Why the hell you think
I was growing that marijuana?

Back inside! Get back.

My wife's only crime was trusting
the wrong man to be her husband.

Virgil?

- Are you done?
- I'm getting woozy.

All right.
But you're not gonna die.

And, hell, hey, if you do,
you took out life insurance, didn't you?

Yeah, I saw that at your ex-wife's place.

Was that the plan?
Shoot the Judge, make me kill you?

I thought you guys shoot people all the time.

Not all the time.
And never lightly.

But you didn't think of those consequences,
did you?

Jesus Christ.

- You all right?
- Yeah. Sure.

Look, why didn't you just shoot him
the second you saw him?

That's why I picked you.

Your Honor, if I thought I had
to shoot him, I would have.

- Thanks.
- For what?

If you hadn't stopped me,
I would have killed him.

- I brought breakfast.
- You brought diabetes.

- What the hell happened to your face?
- Oh, I slipped and fell.

Oh, if I had a dime every time
I used that excuse.

Called you here
to talk about your legal situation.

- What about it?
- I was on a protection duty this week

for this judge and told him about the threats
you were getting from the Crowders.

He said he'd talk to your judge
down in Harlan

and get the terms
of your probation adjusted.

- Adjusted how?
- So you can get out of Kentucky.

- Where would I go?
- I don't know.

Ava, don't you got a list somewhere?
Miami, Costa Rica?

Costa Rica, huh?
How far away you want me?

- It's not about that.
- No?

- It's about keeping you safe.
- I thought you were doing that.

Well, I don't know if you've noticed,
but I haven't done it the last couple weeks.

I can't be watching your back anymore.

Or any part of me, huh?

Can you...

Or the bed. Fine.

Boyd's out because of me.

- Because of us.
- Because of us screwing.

Because of us screwing.

And I don't want to be with you

when I get that call
that he's hurt someone, or worse.

And you don't want it, either.

Didn't the District Attorney order you
to stay the hell away from Boyd?

Yeah. But that was more of a suggestion.

And not seeing me,
it was just a suggestion, too.

But you're willing to ignore it for Boyd
and not me.

You'll walk away from
whatever it was that we had to what?

To try and catch Boyd
run a red light or something?

If that's all I thought he was gonna do...

Maybe it is! Did you ever think that
maybe Boyd really has changed?

I mean, maybe he's just trying to
start his life over.

People change.

Yeah, like Bowman.

- Well, Boyd ain't Bowman.
- No, he's worse.

You know, the night I saw you at my door,

I thought God had given me another chance.

Like a pinball reset.

Same as you staying in Harlan all along,
making your move when I turned 18.

Like none of the rest of it ever happened.

I drink enough, I start to believe it, too.

Come in.
Get that door.

Am I in trouble?

Last night, a meth lab blew up in the woods
outside of Harlan.

And the state police there had a CI inside.

He was killed.

And the last report he filed

said that Boyd Crowder
had threatened to blow the meth lab up

if they didn't shut it down.

So now he's killed someone.

Oh, Christ.

Meth labs have been known
to blow up for other reasons, Raylan.

State police have been watching Boyd
and Bo since their release,

and they think that Boyd
is probably trying to send

some kind of a message
on behalf of his father.

Probably trying to bring his old criminal
enterprises back under his protection.

Boyd told me
he wasn't gonna rob banks anymore.

- So you've been to see Boyd.
- Yeah.

Even though your friend David Vasquez
expressly told you not to.

- Did you get anything?
- I spoke to his men.

Told them whoever came forward first,
we were offering a $50,000 reward.

- That's a good move.
- Hasn't worked.

It's not over yet. It's still a good move.

I also talked to his boy, Devil, Dewey.

Found Fandi,
tried to get him to man up and testify.

- No go?
- No. No go.

Well, you could just quit.

I could try again.

I'll take care of Vasquez,

and I'll call the staties
and see if they can help us in any way.

Otis.

What the hell are you doing here?

Last time I asked you to testify,

you said, "Make me."
So I'm here to make you.

You know, I've been talking to some of your
other "landscaping" customers.

- So?
- Well, they're all old people,

with big backyards
that they can barely get out to.

- Is this leading to a point anytime soon?
- You're planting weed in their backyards.

- Is that what they told you?
- No, what they did is

they showed me where you'd been
cutting back the weeds,

- like you did here?
- Just like they paid me to.

That's the first time I saw weeds
planted in a row with irrigation.

Now, the way I figure it, you got about
300, 400 pounds drying on racks somewhere.

We can get a warrant,

search your basement and your garage,
or you can do your civic duty.

What, are you just so driven
to get him back in?

So you can restore balance to the Force?

I'm driven because he's murdered
at least two people that I know of!

You think you're scared of him?

You got no idea
what you can expect from me.

All right, all right! I'll identify him!

Thank you.

Yeah, show me his picture
so I know what he looks like.

What are you talking about?

I need to know what he looks like
so I can identify him.

- You didn't see him?
- No.

You think I didn't identify him
because I was afraid?

Weren't you?

No, it was night. He was 100 feet away.

You were all nervous
and jittery outside the I. D. Room.

I'm a pot grower
in the middle of a shitload of police!

I mean, just show me what he looks like,
I'll say whatever it is you want me to say.

I mean, you're saying he's killing people.

- Otis, shut up.
- Right? Will you do that?

- What?
- I'm not that guy.

Why don't you try real gardening?
You actually seem pretty good at it.

How you gonna get him?

I don't know.