tim-pierce

[tim-pierce]

"The Roundup received video footage from the night Randall died," Tim explained. He really didn't want to beat around the bush and waste Noah's time. "One of the writers is working on an article requesting information and questioning the existence of the Cowboy Mafia; I can show you whatever you want to see: the video, the article, nothing. It's going to include a lot of 'alleged' information since that's the best I can do to protect all of us without it looking like I'm trying to cover up for someone."

He stepped up onto the last rung on the fence, eyes drifting out the pasture. It was a nice day. Nice blue skies. Carnival rides and food everywhere. Yet, there he was, bearer of bad news again. He offered Noah a brief nod. "I'm sorry. I know that's a lot, and I don't know everything you're going through with your brother and family, but I'm trying to warn you and the others before it goes to print."

"What Postcard?" He asked, the reference going over his head. But that wasn't out of the ordinary, a lot of things went right past him only to catch up to him later. "I didn't attend enough class to be allowed to play a sport." He said with a shrug. In a different life he might of done well on the football team, track and field-- hell, any of them. He'd always been athletic his entire life, however he was also unmotivated to sit through school all day. For what? It wouldn't do anything for him later in life, and as of now, he still stood behind that.

"Oh?" He said, staring out at the pen. Everything was something from a past life, and he needed to quit thinking about things like that, and more about the one he was currently standing in. "Well--" he continued, looking around, "here's as good a place as any." He shrugged, mostly because he didn't want to meet Tim anywhere, and in public, Tim couldn't kick his ass. A modicum of safety in numbers at the moment and he'd take that. "Don't think we're the main attraction here, so I think you're good." He couldn't think of one person who would think they'd be discussing anything like this at the ostrich farm, but maybe that was why it might of been the best place, far be it from him to decide one way or the other. "What is it?"

[tim-pierce]

"I think it's too soon to say it's nothing. I can't make out faces, but there's definitely more than one person," Tim said. He wrote down the make and model of the vehicle and some general descriptions. Nothing stood out in terms of scratches or dents, but he did write down the digits and letters that he could see. Random strings of half finished plate numbers winked up at him, taunting.

"Keep an eye for a vehicle that looks like this during the day. Paxton isn't that big -- chances are this person will eventually park this car and be nearby at one point or another," Tim ripped out the notes. He held it out to TJ. "You got a way I can copy that? I might try to run the plates; I couldn't get the full numbers, but I can try seeing if there's a process of elimination that can be done."

TJ didn't have much authority over anything other than their shop, and that was how they liked it. They were a lifelong Paxton native with family ties to the ranching industry, so although they had never shown any interest in that world themselves, they wanted it to be preserved. They were happy to help out the cowboys, but also perfectly happy to leave it to someone like Tim to make the decisions and put the pieces together. "Well, you're the smart one. Yeah, hold on."

TJ was often doodling in notepads. They had an iPad with drawing apps for their tattoo designs too, but papers and pencils and pens were how they had done everything in prison. In some ways, it still felt more natural to them. They grabbed their notepad and pen from the coffee table to hang it to Tim. "I don't know if this footage is good enough to be able to make out the faces. D'you think it could be something? Or do you think it's nothing?"

[tim-pierce]

"It did. He has a record, unfortunately," Tim stated simply. Technically, if Tim ever wound up arrested, he'd have a record and he'd be fair game for articles like these, too. They all would really. None of them were exactly upstanding citizens even if they tried to be.

Tim grabbed two glasses for them and began to set the table. Old habits from his mother who insisted all of her children be decent hosts. He just sat placed a water pitcher down when Beck asked the golden question. "Well, I was going to warn you about the article before it printed. Outside of that, TJ noticed a few vehicles on the recordings," Tim said. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, pressing at them and a budding headache. "Now, all we do is mind our ps and qs. You weren't on those tapes at Castle Rock, but be mindful wherever you go and with who. Keep the fingers out of cop cars and all that. Try to do whatever business you can above board or at least far away from a damn camera."

Beck nodded in understanding at Tim's explanation. Had to go along with it so he didn't look suspicious, because if Tim started looking like something was off with him, if his position at the paper was called into question, that'd be way worse for them in the long run. "I get it. You gotta report the facts. Fact is that Lucas' name came up." Lucas wasn't here to defend himself any longer, and he'd already paid the ultimate price for his loyalty to the Cowboys. His family were still paying the price. They'd lost their loved one. Beck carried his weight, his legacy, walking in shoes he could never hope to fill, under a weight his small frame almost buckled under.

Beck had already been given plenty of food at Mia's place, but he filled his own bowl and ate anyways. He was working long hours, putting hours in on the two-year-olds on the ranch and trying to get ahead as much as possible before his medical leave, but you couldn't rush horses. Didn't do 'em any good to put in more time than they were ready for. They learned at the pace they were gonna learn at. He still wanted to fit in as many sessions as he could reasonably manage. Sometimes that meant he forgot to eat or worked through lunch. His body seemed to be reminding him to catch up. He was still starving. "What do we do now?" Beck asked. "What were you gonna say when you came over?"

[tim-pierce]

Starter for @wyattxking

When: Present (after PD 4)

Where: The Blue Rooster Ranch

With each day that passed Tim considered handing in his resignation letter. The problem was Elias made it very clear: they needed one of their own to filter the articles. As long as Tim was the editor-in-chief of the Roundup, the Cowboy Mafia could stay three steps ahead. In this case, three steps ahead meant going to Wyatt well before the first draft hit the storyboard.

Strolling onto a ranch always felt like a contradiction: ranchers were rarely ever indoors. Yet, there Tim stood in the doorway of Wyatt's office. He held up an envelope with all the information the Roundup had on some of Alicia Santiago's former business deal attempts. "You want the good news or the bad news first?" Tim asked.

[tim-pierce]

"Yes, which is why some of those frames have plates and others don't," Tim pointed out. So far, the car didn't look like it had any dents or scratches that would stand out -- also, probably done on purpose. He waited patiently as TJ fast forwarded and zoomed in.

The outline was blurry, but there was unmistakably more than one person in the car. "No," he drawled after a moment. "I don't. Looks like there's at least two people driving around. They could just be taking a route home from work or to a bar," Tim added, "Interesting that the plates come and go. I want to see if I can write down the numbers that I can see -- you got a pen?"

"You gotta be either dumb or ballsy as hell to ride around without plates. Isn't it easier to just get some fake ones? No plates stick out like a sore thumb. Fake plates only matter if someone tries to run it." TJ held up a hand. "Not that I would know, law abiding citizen that I am, of course." There were plenty of rational reasons someone might circle the block a few times. Trying to find space to park, missed their turn, waiting to pick someone up. This one felt fishy, though.

"Shit, I'll try." TJ had spent longer than they probably should have admitted checking the cameras and the footage, skimming through them at night like a football game playing in the background, keeping an eye out for anything that might stand out. As if TJ even knew what they were looking for. TJ wasn't sure how much zooming they'd manage, but they played around with the app a little, messing with the settings. "Ah, here, I think this'll let me focus on one area... Here. Do you recognize the people?"

[tim-pierce]

"Both," Tim answered. He wasn't really hungry, but he knew better than to turn his nose up at Mia's food. "Bowls are to the right of the fridge," he added before grabbing silverware.

His kitchen table looked like a tornado hit it with all the papers and files scattered around. Tim moved the placemats on the breakfast bar and waited for Beck to situate himself. "It looks counterproductive, mentioning the dead members in the paper, but there's a balance I have to maintain between my job and the organization," Tim explained. He at least owed Beck some sort of explanation. "If I protested too much, and completely vetoed every single detail Amy had, which she had plenty, it'd draw more attention to me and the rest of us. Too much protest betrays a guilty conscience. The names that were printed are all gone. Combine that with the use of words like 'suspected,' and 'alleged,' it still leaves room for reasonable doubt. Reasonable belief to assume the Cowboy Mafia of the stories they all heard about is small and fragmented."

"Catching up. Lots fo catch up on." Beck felt as if he was constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure there wasn't a police car following him, but the coast still seemed clear. Beck followed Tim inside and walked into the kitchen, looking for a couple of bowls. "This ain't even cold yet. I just came from over there." Steam and the pleasant smell of Mia's chilli rose into the air as Beck peeled the lid from the container.

"You said you were gonna come see me. Wouldn't happen to have anything to do with my brother's name being in the news, would it? Or did you catch something on the cameras we set up?" Julie had said Tim must've had a reason for letting those names get out in the press. Beck had to trust that. Tim was smart, way smarter than Beck, and he'd been doing this way longer. There was a reason behind every choice Tim made, even if Beck didn't understand it.

[tim-pierce]

"Your grandma sounds like a great candidate for the Postcard, and it sounds like you should have joined track and field," Tim said with a wry smile. He could imagine the artwork Noah described fitting right in with the rest of the pieces the old ladies liked to sell. He could also imagine little kids zipping under nets like little desert lizards.

Tim watched the ostriches for a moment longer. Randall probably used to help Noah when he was a kid, too. Difference was only one of the brothers was here now to tell the tale.

"I'm in a bit of situation," Tim said after a moment. "The paper's got some information that I know will blow back to you. I can tell you now, or we can meet some other time. Either way, I don't want the article to print without you being aware."

Maybe it should have been embarrassing, how much of a townie Noah really was. But when he wasn't swimming in liquor he was generally most people's favorite person to be around. He had a generally even temperament and was okay with anything anyone wanted to do. When he was drinking however, it wasn't that-- and when he was drinking to cover something up, it was even worse. He wasn't necessarily friends with anyone in the cowboy mafia and maybe that was his biggest problem. He never assimilated. He never went to where they hung out and tried to be friends with them. Sure he had JD, but at the end of the day, the never talked about anything. Instead, they sat across from each other mostly saying nothing and pretending everything was okay when it wasn't. It wasn't a longterm goal for success. It was going to break sooner or later. He needed to commit to this, or get out. Not flip flop on each side.

He saw Tim in his periphery, and almost wanted to just walk away. He didn't remember much of their last talk, mostly because the copious amounts of alcohol coursing through his veins, but more so, he figured it was a trauma black out. His brain protecting him from an asshole that he was sure didn't like him to begin with. That however, was fine. He didn't need to be the guy's friend, it was clear Tim didn't want anything to do with him anyways. Easy impasse to come to and cross without any hesitation.

However, the tip was appreciated when he dodged the beak of one of the oversized birds. Too busy dissecting the man next to him in his mind to pay attention to the dinosaurs in the pen he was he was glazed over staring at. "When I was a kid--" he started, not turning to look at Tim, rather, gazing straight ahead while he continued, "my grandpa had a pen of these fuckers. Like ten or something." He couldn't remember the number, a child's mind didn't count the birds, only remembered the impact, "and my grandma did art with the eggs. You know the type, Dremel 'em out and paint em, then did stuff with the feathers." Clearly that arty vibe wasn't a trait that was passed on to the youngest Kastings boy, "and it was our job to run in the pen grab the eggs and get out before the birds figured out we were in there." At that, Noah laughed. It was a ridiculous notion, telling the story, but as a kid, it was a larger than life feat. "The netting was maybe 2 feet off the ground so someone could get under it but the birds couldn't?" He said, finally looking over at Tim, "and they'd distract 'em or at least try to while we did it, but if you weren't a fuckin' track star you were gonna get hurt." He shrugged, "I was a fast little fucker though, so I mean, me a zillion, ostriches, zero."

[tim-pierce]

Starter for @carsonwest

When: Plot Drop 4

Where: Ostrich Festival

All work and no play followed Tim from place-to-place it seemed. He was grateful to Carson West for having more bravery than the majority of people in this town, but he always felt like he was meeting people under less-than-ideal circumstances: Beck, Noah, and Carson. This was just another moment. Tim raised his cup of lemonade, signaling that Carson could come over if he wanted.

"How've you been?" Tim asked like it was just a regular day. Just two guys having a friendly chat out at the festival. Like they were neighbors or went to the same bar once a week. "I haven't heard anything from Amy, so does that mean you're staying out of trouble?"

[tim-pierce]

“I know, but I wanted to come see you now instead of waiting to meet you at the house,” Tim shrugged. He waved his own flashlight around like a laser. His light briefly chasing the spot where hers was moments before.

It felt a bit like combing through the catacombs at this hour. He had a feeling they were inspecting in the dark of the night so no one could call Obsidian on them. Tim briefly shined the light on Shawn like she was an old Hollywood star. “Are you feeling better about Oceanview now? Or is it too soon to start the victory laps?”

Who: Shawn and @tim-pierce

When: Weekend after the kiss

Where: Basement of a building next to Oceanview

"I know Mila really wants this rezoning to go through but I was pretty sure we had it in the bag without inspecting the other buildings on the block," she moved her flashlight over the foundation making mental notes of what she could use for registration. Now that she was really starting to look into more of these buildings she was feeling more secure in her job. There was just so much history in the town.

"You know you didn't need to come with me," she smiled over at him and switched her flashlight off. It was sweet but she was certain it had more to do with bodies being found places than just wanting to spend time with her. "We could have just met at the house."

[tim-pierce]

It was Pueblo’s braying that made Tim walk towards the door just as Beck rang the bell. He opened it after a moment, taking in the sight of tupperware. At the word “chili,” he opened the door the rest of the way for Beck to come in. “Catching up,” he echoed, shutting his work laptop. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I was needing to drop by your place soon as is.”

Starter For: @tim-pierce Location: Tim's place

Beck tried to visit his sister-in-law as often as possible, but he'd admittedly gottan kinda lax recently. There was just so much going on, and he always felt bad bringing his drama to her doorstep. Mia never saw it that way, though. Even though Beck sometimes felt that he was still that annoying little toddler she'd met when she and Lucas first started dating, the truth was that Mia Tillman might just have been the most loving and accepting woman in the world. Beck was her baby brother. She worried about him, especially since Lucas' name had made it into the press again, but she was always someone who made him believe in his strengths rather than his shortcomings.

He was on the Res anyways, so Beck decided to drive by Tim's place on the way home. Tim's car was parked outside. Beck pulled his truck up in the space next to it, and Pueblo gave some little nickers as he saw him climb out. "Hey little buddy." Beck continued up to the front door, buzzing and waiting for Tim to answer. "D'you have dinner yet?" Beck asked, lifting a container of chilli. "Told you she never lets me leave without food. Figured it'd be nice to share. We can catch up." Honestly, he could just use a friend, someone older and smarter than he was. Not that that was difficult.

[tim-pierce]

Tim wasn’t one to look backwards, but this was the one time in his life that he wished time could be rewound. It was difficult to not blame the dead for all that was going on in town. Specifically, it was hard not to relate all of the bad back Randall Kastings. Was it narrowsighted? Yes. Did Tim particularly care? No. That was thing about being dead: you weren’t alive to care if you became a scapegoat.

In this case, everything with Oceanview, Tim got the sense that if Randall hadn’t linked up with Alicia then she’d have set her sights elsewhere. And Tim? He wouldn’t be playing detective. He wouldn’t have a newspaper publication that he was still trying to figure out how to protect the Cowboy Mafia without making it seem like he had a horse in the race.

Going to TJ’s was Cowboy Mafia business. He rubbed at his aching eyes as he followed TJ to the living room. The security footage was blurry, but he could make out the car TJ was talking about. Tim squinted. “Doesn’t look like it has plates does it?” Tim asked, leaning closer to the screen. “Can you zoom in any more?”

Starter For @tim-pierce Location: Outlaw Ink / TJ's apartment

"Hey, man. Thanks for coming over." TJ poked their head out of the door and looked around. They'd told Tim to use the second entrance, the one that led out back to the parking lot, and where the stairs were that took you upstairs to TJ's apartment. Cowboy business was usually around the back, unless whoever stopped by was also coming in for a tattoo or piercing. That could be a pretty good cover, too, and plenty of Cowboys were covered in ink. Sit for a few hours, get some fresh art, and pay a few hundred extra for your piece so that the money came out clean on the other side.

"We can go upstairs. Better than on a phone screen." Toby beckoned for Tim to follow, leading him up the staircase. Toby's settlement had been enough to buy out the small building, store-front and upstairs space combined, and it had seemed silly to live anywhere else. The place was decorated exactly how you'd expect; blackout curtains, dark paint on the walls, shelves lined with books about conspiracy theories and the history of queer cinema and horror, little knick-knacks and pop culture memorobilia all over.

"I don't always check the cams, 'cause if I did, I'd never do anything else with my time, or sleep," TJ chuckled. "And I get too little of that anyways. But here. I figured you might wanna see this." TJ hit a few buttons on their phone, bringing the TV to life with footage from the cameras that had been recording the street in front of the shop, and the alley out back. "Y'see that car? I swear, it comes 'round way more than it should. I saw it circling when I went out for a smoke. Figured I'd come back and check the cameras later."

[tim-pierce]

Starter for @noahkstngs

Where: The Ostrich Festival

When: Present (prior to March 18th)

These days the Paxton Roundup was becoming more and more of a true crime expose. Years ago, after Tim graduated college and tried to convince himself he'd like living in the city, he worked for a news station. It was the type of work that practically sucked the life out of him. He almost forgot why until the darkness of the city made itself at home in Paxton. The Roundup was sitting on an anonymous submission -- one that couldn't be traced back to a reliable source, one that made a migraine drill behind his eyes.

Going to the Ostrich Festival was an attempt to write about something other than death and drugs. Yet, the video kept lingering in the back of his mind. Then, as if his mind conjured him, he caught sight of Noah Kastings.

He hadn't forgotten the last time he saw Noah outside his house, stumbling off after he just about bit his head off. Now, as people walked from stall to stall, ostrich hats on their heads, Tim weighed his options. He could let Amy make the call, she was the one writing the article, or he could warn Noah now and potentially ruin his day.

"Hey," he greeted, still weighing his options, when he caught Noah's gaze. He nodded towards one of the ostrich creeping towards the fence. "On your left -- somebody said they will dive their heads thinking we all got food for them."

[tim-pierce]

Tim smiled faintly when they broke apart. Now that they kissed each other and the word hadn't fallen apart, if anything things seemed to come into complete clarity, he felt lighter. Maybe, all of those years of being careful with whatever they were unfairly shackled them both in place. Now, he felt for the first time in a long time that there was a decision a made with no 'what-ifs' lingering in the back of his mind.

"It was hopefully worth the wait -- I've been told I drag my feet sometimes," Tim said. "So, I guess I'll have to make it up to you."

[END]

~~*~~

When she had imagined this moment, and she had imagined it just like she had admitted to Julie, it hadn't exactly been standing in the lobby of her office after ruining half of her groceries from being completely ridiculous. But even in her wildest dreams she couldn't have imagined what it would do to her. Where moments ago her cheeks were flushed with heat as her heart was beating so fast she could feel it, now everything was calm. Peaceful almost. Like the desert at dawn where all of the animals were settling in before the heat of the day.

It could have gone on forever and she wouldn't have noticed or even cared. As they finally broke apart she smiled up at him softly. "I've been waiting for that too."

[tim-pierce]

“Help yourself, I don’t get all up in arms about people rifling through the fridge,” Tim said with a wave. The shop fridge hissed its agreement. Chances were he had some sort of soda nestled back there — likely not expired either.

He was halfway towards the backdoor when the wind carried Beck’s statement. Tim thought about that for a moment, then tilted his head either which way. “Probably better that way. All of those things happening over at Oceanview and Obsidian Holdings probably losing money like a stuck pig.”

Tim whistled at that. Chances were Obsidian would see a few of their donors pull away. Who wanted to donate hard-earned money to a lost cause? He didn’t get to ask that question as Beck asked if they were friends.

Tim felt his brows knit together at that. “You got that brand don’t you? That means we can talk about ‘friend stuff,’” Tim made air quotes at that. “There’s a lot we all can’t talk about unless it’s among each other, so…”

"Then let's ask TJ. I bet they wouldn't mind. Just have to be careful when our guys go over there. Either an excuse for the visits, or making sure they turn the cameras off." The last thing they needed was any of the cops in town getting their hands on footage of the Cowboys coming and going from TJ's place with drugs or drug money. Beck pulled out their phone, doing a quick search. "Eh, I think technically we can do it, as long as it's somewhere without 'a reasonable expectation of privacy'. Best double check with Mila though." Beck didn't entirely trust what some random website said.

"As much as I'd love to see Mia take you on, I should stick with the Diet Coke and Dr Pepper," Beck answered with a sigh. They would have to get home, and that meant no beer. It was already late. Beck had to be up to tend to the horses, but he'd made it all the way out here already. His feet didn't seem to wanna move yet. Beck absentmindedly stroked Pueblo as they talked.

"You were right about the Bae family," Beck said. "Nothing there. Just a business guy doing business guy things. He already took on another project and left. Salt Lake City this time. A ski resort." Beck had dared to hope, maybe for a second, that Lia might stick around. An ironic change of events, after they had begged her to leave the first time they'd seen her here. She was safe. But she was gone. "Are we friends?" Beck asked after a moment. "Do we talk about friend stuff?"

[tim-pierce]

“That’s always a possibility, I guess. I like to think sometimes, we worry over things being worse so we just stay stagnant,” Tim mused. He looked over at the sound of JD’s chuckle. The sound of the trees and the echoes in the canyons almost drowned it out.

“It’s not an ambush. We’re standing in a wide open, public space,” Tim pointed out. Sometimes, he wished he smoked. It’d have been a perfect moment to ground out a cigarette underneath his heel and walk off. “Besides, it’s not like we can talk to just anyone about all of this. It’s not a friendship club, but it’s all we got sometimes.”

[END]

"Yeah," JD agreed, though he wasn't quite sure that he felt the same. Was his peace worth any risk, any cost? Was it worth exposing someone else to the dangers that were rampant in their world? It wasn't as if the world outside of the Cowboys was a safe place, JD knew that, but it still felt as if out there had to better than in here. "But what if it's just a case of the grass being greener," he heard himself say. "What if the life that I think I want is worse than the one I already have?"

JD wasn't sure if that was possible. Surely, anything had to be better than the life he currently had -- carrying guilt around like a weight around his neck. The decisions he'd made when he was young and impulsive were still impacting him, and while he hadn't regretted them then, and knew even now that he'd likely take the same path if offered a second chance, JD had to believe that there was another life out there that was better. "Sorry," he apologized as he forced out a chuckle. JD swallowed down any other concerns he'd thought to voice. "I didn't mean to ambush you on your walk just so I could turn you into my therapist."

[tim-pierce]

"Given that the have different locations and have existed well before here -- who's to know is right," Tim acquiesced. He'd be willing to bet there were at least twenty disappearances or deaths linked to Obsidian Holdings, but that was the tinfoil hat warming on his head. Well, at least, he thought it was the tinfoil hat heating his brain into mush until Shawn stepped closer.

With Shawn crossing closer to him, her does eyes dancing across his face, Tim struggled to think clearly. It wasn't like there hadn't been moments like these. He could remember being a teenager at some party, half drunk, and not brave enough to bridge the gap between them. Then, they were adults half awake and delirious with the need to sleep after a night of pouring over a manuscript of his. Another time, she held his face in her kitchen. Now, this was another time.

Tim never really worked up the courage to give into the urge to ruin their friendship. He kept convincing himself that there was someone else out there for Shawn, someone less complicated, and without all the baggage that came with a trail of maimed and murdered. Yet, maybe, there wasn't. Maybe, none of it was supposed to be simple -- except for this.

"If it's a date you want; I can give you that," Tim leveled after a moment. The unspoken, 'Why didn't you say so earlier?' hung between them. He gently reached out and brushed a loose lock of her hair away from her face. This time it was his eyes searching over her face. He offered a faint smile before leaning in to do what he should have done ten times over.

Tim kissed Shawn because it made sense. He kissed her because he wanted to. He kissed her because it was long overdue. He kissed her like she should have been kissed for all these years.

~~*~~

Shawn tipped her head acknowledging how true that statement probably was. The weirdest part about it was that Oceanview wasn't actually worth all that much. Even if Obsidian remodeled it and started charging it's obnoxious prices, the actual value of the property wouldn't go up that much given the appraisal would have to be done using other properties in the area. Paxton wasn't exactly full of high end businesses. And even if it was made of gold, it wasn't worth killing over. Yet, here they were. "Well, I guess if they offed her then they aren't exactly above more bodies being buried there. Who knows how many people." Though she was the most obvious in this completely crazy scenario.

There it was. That look on his face that he had in her kitchen. He had explained it away by saying he was sick of losing people. Her hand twitched wanting to smooth the worry away the way she had last time. She even took a step forward to reach for him before what he was saying fully registered. She stared at him for a long moment, eyes flicking to his lips before Julie's voice played in her head. Chances are he's just as dense. There was a moment of hesitation where the doubt crept in. He could just be worried about another attack since Julie's salon had just been burned. But she threw herself in the deep end anyway. "That sounds an awful lot like a date. And if it is, you should know I've been waiting for you to ask."

[tim-pierce]

"Everyone has to start somewhere," Tim shrugged. He didn't let the joke linger for too long. Jokes like that when they lingered set him spinning through memories in an attempt to figure out what domino led him right to the Cowboy Mafia. Instead, Tim cracked open a beer and tilted his head back.

He stared up at the night sky as Beck talked through their ideas. There was no moon, only a few blinking stars, a practically perfect darkness given what was to come. "I think it depends with cameras -- Mila would know better than either of us," he looked over at Beck with a slight nod.

"That'll work for the camera. TJ's been helping us, so what's one more thing at this point?" Tim said with a shake of his head. He'd eventually check in on Caid and Julie. For now Tim figured the two of them would want distance from all of this -- they were probably connected. Collateral damage. "If you're drinking that you gotta stay here for at least an hour -- Mia would wring my neck if she found out I let you drive after having a drink."

"Breaking into my sister's house. Coupla cowboys. We're real criminal masterminds over here," Beck joked with a little laugh. They gave Pueblo lots of pets and scratches to thank him for his kindness and cooperation, movements absentminded while they continued to talk. "I gotta go over to Wickenburg for an event. Route takes me pretty close to Scottsdale and Phoenix. I'll look up a couple hardware stores over there and see what they got." Beck was pretty handy. He'd figure out how to set it up.

"TJ has their place. Last time we talked, they said they were thinking about setting up some cameras after the fire at Shear. But they were worried in case the footage somehow gets used against us, so I don't know if they've decided yet. Maybe we can ask them?" Beck shrugged. "Gonna have to ask Mila about the law surrounding putting up cameras in public places. People do trail cams and stuff. Is it only allowed on your own property?"