Rachel waited until the office was cleared of personnel.  Even the janitor had come and gone.  The late shift would stroll in soon but her discussion with Art would be over long before they arrived.

She walked into Art’s office and leaned against the doorframe until he glanced up from the papers carefully placed side by side across the edge of his desk.  At his nod she went to the credenza, pulled a decanter of his favorite from a drawer and poured them both a half glass.  She handed one to Art and sat in one of the chairs stationed in from of this desk.  She took a deep swallow.

Their eyes met over the top of the glasses. “What are “you” going to do about Raylan Givens?”  She thought for a moment that Art might have decided for their benefit, hers and Tim’s to ignore that Raylan was somehow involved with the missing money.

“Work from the assumption that he will have gotten his act together by the time he returns from Harlan.”

Rachel nodded grateful that Art trusted her enough to speak truth to the matter.  “And, if he hasn’t?”  She took another swallow.

“Raylan understands his options”

“So we’ll continue to play ignorant country bumpkins, waiting for him to see the light?”

Art thumped his empty glass down on the desk.  “Hell no!  We’ll do our jobs, making sure he doesn’t take us down with him.”

“How long?”

Art squirmed him is chair, looking uncomfortable.

“How long do we wait, until someone from his past, present or future gets him killed or so fouled up that…  Being a bystander at a slaughter is no fun, Art.”  She stood up and taking their glasses left his office.   She returned moments later with clean glasses that she placed inside the credenza.   Art locked his desk and pulled his jacket from the back of the chair.  “Let’s go home and tomorrow we’ll deal with tomorrow’s trouble.”

They stopped at Rachel’s desk, where she picked up her purse and followed Art to the elevator.  They stepped inside, together.  Art pushed the button and Rachel spoke the thought she’d been holding in since she’d figured out Raylan’s bungled scheme.  “We could just castrate him.  Make our lives a lot simpler.”

Art’s groan and then barks of laughter spilled out into the corridor until the doors closed.