with the edge of his fist. Raylan didn't think at this moment it was going to open. Maybe it wasn't, until Joyce looked out the peephole and saw him coming up behind the Zip, the man too intent on what he was doing to be aware of anyone behind him. So that as the door started to open Raylan was moving up fast on the Zip, and as the door came wide open and Joyce appeared and saw she had to get out of the way, Raylan hit the Zip from behind, grabbed him around the shoulders, and took him down hard on the living-room carpet. The Zip landed on his side, twisted around to lie face up and now had Raylan astride his chest, pinning his arms to his sides. He didn't ask Raylan who he was or what he was doing, not with that furious look on his face. No, he started to buck and twist and didn't calm down till Raylan had his nine-millimeter out and was telling the Zip, "Keep still, or I'll shoot your nose off your face."
Joyce watched Raylan, sitting on the man, look over and touch his hat brim with two fingers. This U. S. marshal she had never seen without his cowboy hat. The man beneath him wore sunglasses, a pearl-gray tie with his dark suit. He wasn't moving a muscle now, Raylan holding the gun on the man's chest, the tip of the barrel resting on his chin. She heard Raylan say, "What'd you come here for?" The man under him said, "Get the fuck off me."
With a gun in his face.
Two guys on her living-room floor in dark-blue suits talking to each other.
"I was looking to ask you," Raylan said to the man under him, "if you know where Harry Arno is, but I 'magine you came here to ask the same thing." He looked up again. "You know who this is?"
Joyce, standing away from them, shook her head. She held her hands in front of her twisting a ring Harry had given her as a birthday present.
"He works for Jimmy Cap," Raylan said, and looked down at the man in the sunglasses again. "I'm going to shoot his nose off he don't answer me. What'd you come here for?"
"Talk to her, say hello."
"About what, Harry Arno?"
"About her. I see her around. You know, so I want to get to know her."
Raylan looked up at Joyce again. "What do you think?"
She shook her head. "I've never seen him before."
"Mr. Tommy the Zip," Raylan said. "I'd say he came to ask if you know where Harry's at. I think we can all agree on that." He said to the Zip, "I wondered if you had him. I didn't think so, but I wanted to be sure. So, you don't know where he's at or have any idea. Is that right?"
Joyce moved closer to them. She heard the Zip say, with an accent, "No, I don't know."
"Well, the lady here, she don't know either. So she don't need a bozo like you coming around. You understand?"
"Okay."
"Don't bother her no more."
The man didn't move or say anything.
"You hear me?"
"Yeah, okay."
Raylan brought his ID case out of his inside coat pocket and held it open in the Zip's face.
"Can you read, partner? It says I'm with the U. S. Marshals Service. You ever come around here again I'll be all over you like a bad smell. You understand me?"
"Yeah, okay."
Joyce saw Raylan look up at her again.
"Anything you want to tell him?"
She shook her head.
"I'm letting you off easy this time," Raylan said, rising to his knees and then pushing up on one of them to stand up. Stepping away he said, "Are you packing? Roll over on your tummy for me."
Raylan stooped now to feel around the Zip's waist, Joyce watching the two men in dark-blue suits.
Do you believe this?
Roll over on your tummy? Raylan sounding more country today than he did before, in Harry's apartment.
Now he was helping the Zip to his feet and the Zip was giving him a look because he didn't get it either. He was calm now behind his sunglasses, straightening his suit coat, pulling it down and smoothing it over his chest and stomach, putting his ego back together, Joyce detecting a touch of arrogance: the Zip looking about the room as he brushed himself off, looking absently until he came to her and stopped. He
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