05x06 - Objection

[bunniefuu]

Where were you?

- What?
- You missed our first deposition.

Didn't you say you wanted to be there?

You wanted to fight?

I did. I do.

Well, a key part of
fighting is showing up,

you know, for the actual fight.

I was working.

But you realize this is
our only chance to question

the witnesses that Barlow's attorney
is calling to the stand, right?

It's the only time we get to hear
what they're gonna say in court

and get it on the record.

I mean, these depositions are crucial,

because if the witnesses
change their story later,

I can discredit them in front of a jury,

which I would have liked to do
with that obnoxious P.I. Monte,

who I deposed today.

Alone.

I'll be at the next one.

I hope so, because while I know

what questions to ask, you know,

I don't know if they're
telling the truth.

Not unless you're there with me.

Also, Barlow's lawyer has
added two new witnesses.

I didn't think he could add
witnesses this late in the day.

Yeah, he can't, unless new
evidence has come to light

or unless he's Tucker Baggett,

best buddies with the judge,

who happens to be his
old fraternity brother

and godfather to his twin boys.

- Want a beer?
- Uh... yeah.

Who are these two new
witnesses he's calling in?

Well, uh, the first
is... Victoria Moretti.

He's calling Vic?

I thought we were calling
her as a character witness.

Why would Tucker call her in?

I don't know.

That's why I need you
at the depositions.

My hunch is that he's gonna manipulate her
into saying defamatory things about you.

But you said you have
a good relationship.

She likes you, right?

Happy employee?

Damn it, Walt. Pick up.

It's me, Vic.

Are you screening your calls?

Come on, Walt. Pick up.

I know you're there.

- Hey, Vic.
- Hey.

So, the FBI called. Ferg hasn't
shown up with the prisoner.

- You haven't been able to reach Ferg?
- No.

And unlike some people, he
always answers his phone.

There's only one way he could have gone.

- Dahill Road.
- Yeah. Yeah.

I'll retrace his steps,
see if I can find anything.

You got to help me.

You... He's really
gonna k*ll me this time.

- Who?
- sh*t!

- What?
- sh*t!

Think I won't find you?!
Oh, I'll find you, bitch!

- You know I will!
- Please. Please.

He will find me and he will k*ll me.

Here. Stay in here.

Stay, stay, stay.

God damn it, Mandy! You get back here!

You know I'm gonna find you!

You get out here right now!

- You know I'll find you, bitch!
- Hey, hey. What's going on?

You see a lying, stealing Indian girl?

I don't know if she
was lying or stealing,

but I did see a woman run by.

- She looked like she was in trouble.
- Oh, yeah, she's in trouble, all right.

The bitch is a g*dd*mn thief.

Which way did she go?

Which way?!

I think she went that way.

sh*t.

Anyone from the state police call?

No. But...

Eddie Harp is a very
important witness to us.

Where the hell is he?

Call the phone company. Maybe they
can put a trace on Ferg's cell.

Oh, well, I'm happy to
hear that the phone company

has a better chance of finding
my prisoner than the sheriff.

I'm not worried about your prisoner.
I'm worried about my deputy.

I found Ferg's, uh, Charger
abandoned on Dahill Road.

b*llet casings everywhere, no bodies,

- hardly any blood.
- What?

This wasn't a difficult assignment.

Transporting a prisoner
should not result

- in a total sh*t show.
- Walter.

Where are you going? We're
in the middle of something.

- I need to take this.
- Are you kidding me?

Sheriff!

Hello?

Jesus Christ.

Can't believe this.

Who is Eddie Harp, and why didn't
you tell us how dangerous he is?

- Well, you didn't think to ask.
- I'm asking now.

You know what?

A 13-year-old girl caught
shoplifting in a mall

would be too dangerous for
Deputy Ferguson to deal with.

I can't believe that the sheriff

- let him transport my prisoner.
- Ferg is a damn good cop, all right?

- You should have told us.
- I'm amazed. You know, I am truly amazed

at the decisions that
your sheriff makes.

This is reckless
endangerment of the people.

Doesn't Sheriff Longmire have a civil
suit against him for a wrongful death?

Yeah. That the FBI cleared him of.

Yeah, well, I certainly
didn't, 'cause I would...

Are you kidding me?

What the hell is he doing?

Hey. He's gone.

He didn't see you
walk back here, did he?

No. I waited out front for
15 minutes just to be sure.

Right.

So, uh, what's up with
this place, anyway?

I thought I was running
into the Dalts' house.

Cool-ass family. They
used to always help me out.

Yeah, the... Yeah, the Dalts.

They, um... they moved.

They moved?

They can't move anywhere.
They're broke as sh*t.

Their house got foreclosed on.

- Well, that sucks.
- But there's a bright side.

I'm opening a legal-aid center here

to help people in trouble on the Res.

That's cute.

So, uh, can I hang here
for a little bit longer?

J.P.'s probably had a
beer and a sh*t by now,

and it usually takes, um,
three to calm him down.

You know the guy who was chasing you?

Yeah. J.P.

Is he your boyfriend?

No.

Ex.

Thank God.

Now he's someone else's problem.

So, why is he chasing you?

Well, I-I thought I lost this necklace,

and then I see it on the
neck of J.P.'s new wife.

- Yeah.
- Whoa.

That assh*le stole it from me
and gave it to another woman.

Right?

So, I-I saw them at the Blind
Tiger just now and I took it back.

You stole it right
off of his wife's neck.

No, I didn't steal it. It's mine.

- I just took it back.
- Right.

- Oh, you can't... you can't smoke in here.
- Mm.

cr*ck a window.

I'd give you my badge and my g*n,
but... don't have them anymore.

Ferg, what happened out there?

I'm on Dahill Road.

And, uh, I see an 18-wheeler
blocking the road up ahead.

But before I could back up,
another vehicle pulls up behind me.

I knew something was off.

They, uh... they pulled
me out of the car.

They... grabbed my g*n
and my phone and my keys.

And then they grab Eddie out
of the back seat and uncuff him.

Can you describe any of the men?

Look at me, buckaroo.

Look at me.

You want to live, yeah?

Mm-hmm.

Then you'll forget our faces.

Ferg.

What'd they look like?

I...

It's all just a little cloudy.

Maybe I just need some time to...

you know, just... clear my head...

and get things straight.

Yeah.

This is ice-cold.

How long you been sitting here?

For a while.

I couldn't call you.

And what did you do next?

I called Walt from the diner.

Well, Deputy Ferguson,
your story is unassailable.

It's almost like you were prepped.

You know, maybe by a sheriff

who strolled out of here
without letting anyone know,

only to return an hour later

with a missing deputy
and a bulletproof story.

Let me ask you this, deputy.

Why did it take you
so long to call it in?

They took his phone.

And then I had to walk 5
miles to get to that diner.

Really?

And then what'd you do?

Did you have a piece of apple pie

from the diner's glass dessert case

before you decided to check in?

See, the bigger question
is why didn't they k*ll you?

Or maybe I should ask

how much did they pay you

to give them those
extra hours to get away?

Why would they pay me?

Because they're the g*dd*mn mob.

And most people don't
get to enjoy apple pie

after crashing into the Irish Mob,

not unless they made some kind of deal.

I didn't make any kind of deal.

- I don't think you understand.
- No, I don't think you understand.

The FBI worked long and hard to
catch the head of the Irish Mob.

We cut the head off the snake,

but now, for some reason, the whole
operation has started up again.

- You don't know who's running it now?
- No, but we thought

having Eddie Harp in custody,
he'd be able to give us a name,

but you pissed all over
that, Deputy Ferguson.

And now Eddie's gone,
along with our best chance

at finding out who this new mob boss is.

Ferg?

You know, nobody would blame you if
you made a deal to save your life.

You really believe that I took money?

I wouldn't hold it against
you... in a situation like that.

They didn't pay me.

And I don't know why
they didn't k*ll me.

Probably 'cause I'm a worthless piece
of sh*t that isn't worth k*lling.

Why don't you take a few
days off, get some rest?

You know, I remember a number.

328... 1204.

It's a D.O.T. number.

Well, that's something.

Any of those faces come back to you yet?

No.

Okay.

Before you head home, let's
go look into that number.

You can enjoy 401 packages,
profit sharing, paid vacations.

And at Four Arrows, uh, there
are advancement opportunities.

Our dealers have become
pit bosses and managers.

And the majority of them
didn't have a college degree.

Maybe best of all,
it's recession-proof.

The casino gaming industry
is one of the fastest-growing

multi-billion-dollar
industries in this country.

You can look it up. So...

Anyway, before you leave the career fair,
you just drop on by our table there.

We'll set you up with applications
and answer any questions you have.

And, remember, the
lack of a college degree

shouldn't stop you from going after
a lucrative and fulfilling career.

- All right?
- Yeah!

Yeah! Come on.

You, too.

So, you're encouraging
students to work at a casino

rather than go to college.

College isn't an option
for most of these kids.

So, uh, why not give them the option

of getting up close and personal

with the heroin trade
and organized crime?

What are you talking about?

Well, I just arrested a heroin dealer

who also happens to be a m*rder*r,

who's connected to the Irish Mob.

And when my deputy was
transporting him out of the county,

they were ambushed by
gunmen in an 18-wheeler,

who took my prisoner.

That's quite a story.
What's it have to do with me?

The D.O.T. on the truck is
linked to a travel agency.

You ever heard of a travel
agency that owns 18-wheelers?

No, I haven't.

Well, actually, Jacob, you have.

Manifest Destinations.

The same travel agency that books
blocks of rooms at your hotel,

like Room 503.

Turns out Manifest
Destinations is a front

for the mob...

and their heroin operation.

But you already knew that.

That's why you lied about it

when we looked into those rooms earlier.

Oh, okay.

Let me get this straight.

By, uh, your logic,

if an oil executive
books a room in my hotel,

that makes me responsible
for global warming.

I want this m*rder*r, I want his boss,

and I want his heroin out of my county.

Dear God, Walt.

Is there no crime anywhere
you won't try to blame on me?

Who do you work with at
Manifest Destinations, Jacob?

And where can I find him?

Well, you know, I can't
answer those questions,

but here are a couple of questions
and answers I can provide.

Did I invite Manifest Destinations here?

No, I did not.

Did I know about or have anything
to do with a heroin operation?

No, I did not.

And if you have any other baseless
accusations you need to level against me,

I suggest you save
them for the deposition.

Yeah. Right.

It's a Department of Transportation I.D.

Uh-huh.

Yeah.

Okay. Thanks.

I thought Walt gave you the day off.

He did.

I just didn't know
what to do with myself.

I just talked to the state police.

There's no sign of the semi, so
I'm guessing that they ditched it

and transferred Eddie
into another vehicle.

Should I resign?

What?

I don't deserve to be here.

I screwed this up.

Ferg, you were mugged.

Wyoming style. It could have
happened to any one of us.

You did nothing wrong. Okay?

Walt just has this stupid policy
about transporting prisoners.

If anything screwed this
up, it was that, not you.

You might not want to mention Walt's
stupid policy at your deposition.

Have you told him?

He's got to know.

I mean, you know, how could he not know?

Thank you for making the
time for this deposition.

I promise it will be quick and painless.

So, Mr. Nighthorse,

Sheriff Longmire arrested
you for conspiracy

in the attempted m*rder of
his deputy, Branch Connally?

Yeah.

And when he was unable to
convict you of that charge,

he released you, right?

Not exactly.

- We made a deal first.
- Okay.

But what happened
after you made the deal?

He released me.

And then he sh*t at you.

No. No, I did not.

Barlow did that.

Says who?

Says you?

Barlow sh*t at him right
before you sh*t Barlow.

Well, now.

That is convenient.

Now, Jacob, I can appreciate

that you don't want to pile
on to the sheriff, here,

but everybody knows that the sheriff
isn't a big fan of your casino.

- Mm.
- Ever since Four Arrows opened,

haven't you been a constant victim

of aggressive harassment
by his department?

In fact, didn't Sheriff
Longmire accuse you, at gunpoint,

of k*lling both his deputy and his wife?

Now, hold on. Tucker, you
have quite a flair for drama.

I'd buy tickets to your show.

But let's get real.

Mr. Nighthorse, you can't really
think Walt is that bad a man.

You must find something
trustworthy in the Longmire name

if you've gone out and hired
his daughter as a lawyer.

I'll tell you why he hired her.

To buy my silence.

He's trying to manipulate
me by recruiting Cady

so I don't take him
down for bringing the mob

and heroin into my
county through his casino.

Gentlemen.

I do believe that Sheriff Longmire here

is doing his damndest to try
and intimidate my witness.

So I think it's about time we
took ourselves a little break.

Why don't you go on
back in my study, okay?

Sheriff.

I think... Could you excuse us a minute?

Thank you.

I-I think we need to
find a middle ground

between not showing up
and whatever that was.

Look, you took Tucker's bait.

Losing your temper like that
gives him amm*nit*on in his case.

Don't dig your own grave here, Walt.

Huh.

Oh, yeah. You're really good at this.

No, I'm a freakin' superstar at this.

All right. Come on.

I want to see your skills.

No, I don't have any.

Well, that's not true.

I'm so proud of you.

Proud?

I failed.

No, you survived.

There could have been
a very different ending

to what happened out there on
that road, but here you are.

You're standing next to me.

I'm really happy about that.

It happened.

Simple as that.

And now you get to decide what
you're gonna do about what happened.

Come on. It's your turn.

Give it a sh*t. Come on.

- You sure?
- Mm-hmm.

I mean, I know you're a superstar,

but I did get a perfect score of 300

on my last handgun qualification, so...

All right.

- Can we have two more?
- Mm-hmm.

So I'm not putting up
with that bullshit. I quit.

Thanks.

It's his piece-of-sh*t car.
He can pay for it himself.

Give me my necklace back!

And you stay the hell away from us!

- This is mine.
- Oh, you have no clue.

- And J.P. is mine, bitch.
- Hey, hey, hey.

What's the problem over
here? Hey! Hey! Hey!

- You and your husband...
- Break it up.

- ...are liars and thieves!
- Break it up.

- Break it up!
- Get the hell off me!

- Get this bitch off me!
- Shut up!

You're just jealous that
I'm the one he married!

- So shut the hell up!
- Enough!

Enough!

Get off of me!

Ha!

So, what happened here?

Oh, just a bar fight.

Archie broke it up.

Oh.

Okay.

You seen Henry... Archie?

Hey, Henry, you remember those tourists

you were cooking fish for the other day?

Come in.

They weren't tourists.

One of them, Eddie Harp,

is a m*rder*r and a drug
dealer with the Irish Mob

who just escaped from custody.

Don't know who the other guy
is, but, uh, I got to find him.

You, uh... you remember
seeing them before or since?

No.

You remember anything about them?

Like, they seem like
friends or colleagues?

The redhead was deferential,
like the other guy was his boss.

And the boss paid.

With a credit card.

You have that receipt?

Paid with a corporate credit card...

Manifest Destinations.

Manifest Destinations
is a sham travel agency.

It's actually a front for the mob.

Just trying to make out a signature.

Connor O'Brien.

Okay. Thanks.

Ferg.

That was the phone company.

They located your phone.

Maybe that will lead
us to Connor O'Brien.

Nope, not unless he stood still.

The phone was pinged on Dahill Road,
right where the Charger was left.

Thanks.

So, a lab in Cheyenne lifted a print

from the heroin syringe that
was used to m*rder Joey Takoda.

Great. So we have Eddie Harp's
fingerprint on the m*rder w*apon

but... not Eddie.

We have Eddie's
fingerprints on file, though.

We can try and match
them to the syringe print.

And when we find Eddie, we'll have
concrete evidence to convict him.

Hey, Walt, uh... Eddie was
transferred before we booked him,

so we don't have his prints.

And, uh, Connor O'Brien,

your potential mob boss,

has been dead for 40 years, so...

Uh, Vic, uh...

Yeah?

- Where are you going?
- I thought you knew.

I'm... I'm headed to your deposition.

Right, right.

Well, uh, no use taking two cars.

I'll drive you.

- Oh, you're gonna go?
- Yep.

My lawyer thinks it's a good idea, so...

Yeah.

It's a good idea. It's great.

Hey.

Here you go. The usual.

You can put it on my desk.

So...

Manifest Destinations.

Have you found anything in
Malachi's books about them?

Or a reference to someone named...

Shane Muldoon?

Who is Shane Muldoon?

That's the person Malachi
might be doing business with.

Jacob, if we are dealing
with the Irish Mob here,

then it is time to
talk to Walt Longmire.

This is getting bigger than us.

I never mentioned the
Irish Mob to you, Henry.

The name Shane Muldoon
kind of announces itself.

It is not a hard deduction.

Have you already been talking to Walt?

Because he's suddenly
aware of a connection

between Manifest Destinations
and the Irish Mob.

Makes me wonder...
who told him about it.

You should ask him.

How much have you shared
with Walt about our deal?

Nothing.

And do we still have a deal?

I find it strange

you found those fake
Red Pony ledgers so fast,

and, yet, you haven't been able to
locate Malachi's real books for weeks.

I have been a little busy lately.

My life is not my own anymore.

I have too many puppet
masters pulling my strings.

Believe me, I would like nothing more

than to have my bar and my
independence and my dignity back.

Ever since Walt hired me,
I've only ever known him

to be ethical, honorable, and effective.

Thank you, Deputy Moretti.

You said "ever since Walt hired you."

Now, Ms. Moretti, could you talk to us

about being hired by Sheriff Longmire?

About how you were evaluated.

Oh, yeah. Um, I was...

Because Monte, my
private investigator...

he tells me that Sheriff
Longmire's hiring practices

can be quite, um, well, original.

Can I speak now or...?

Oh, yes. Why, please do.

I don't know about original.

I find him to be
thoughtful and observant.

Did he ask you about why
you left Philadelphia?

- No.
- Really?

He didn't ask you about the
scandal surrounding your dismissal?

No.

Well, that's probably
because he found you

to be unhirable, an outcast,

desperate for a job and willing
to do anything he wanted.

And in exchange, he'd
give you your badge back.

That's not who Walt is.

Well, how would you know?

Walt Longmire is a very
secretive man, it seems.

At least that's what your colleague,
Deputy Ferguson, told Monte.

Okay, just so you know, I
blew the whistle on a cop

- who was breaking the law.
- Mm-hmm.

I'm not exactly the type of
person that a corrupt sheriff

would want to keep around.

Jesus.

Now, excuse me, young lady,

but there's no need for
such coarse language.

Are we done here?

I do believe we are.

Although, I do have
just one more question.

You're kidding me. You're...
you're pulling a Columbo?

Ms. Moretti, uh, did you
recently get divorced?

Now, wait a second. Objection.

Her personal life has nothing
to do with any of this.

Well, you're... you're probably
right, but I-I just got to ask.

You serious? I got to
answer his question?

- You objected.
- Yeah, but that's just for the record.

You still have to answer. I can
try to get it disallowed in court.

Yeah.

I recently got divorced.

And did your recent
divorce have anything to do

with your relationship with
the ethical Walt Longmire?

- No.
- Oh.

So, can you explain to us

why, um, somebody at the
Durant Regional Hospital

recently reported that
you and the sheriff were...

... "locked in a passionate kiss"?

I'm sorry.

That, uh... didn't go the
way that I expected it to.

It's fine.

If it wasn't that,
it'd be something else.

If they're willing to
misconstrue an entire career,

they're not gonna have a problem
misconstruing a... moment.

Meantime, nobody's
tending to the county.

And as long as I still have a job,

we need to find this m*rder*r
and the head of the Irish Mob.

Now, you do everything you can to
find out about Manifest Destinations.

I'll do the same.

By the way,

if you were unhirable, I
wouldn't have hired you.

- We've got to get her out of here.
- Who?

- The bitch who stole my sh*t.
- She came in your house?

No. She lives here. Come on.

She's in here.

Come on. Hurry up.

Hey.

Oh, my God. We need to
call an ambulance now.

No, no, no. She's totally breathing.

I-I threw cold water on
her, and I slapped her up.

We just got to get her in
your car, okay? We just...

- No, we need to get her to a hospital.
- No.

If we take her to the hospital,
they're gonna call the cops.

The cops are gonna come along
and think that I did this sh*t.

Why would they think you did this?

Maybe it's because I broke in here

to get my necklace back
after this knocked-out bitch

yanked it off my neck yesterday
in a bar fight that everybody saw.

Come on.

- Mandy.
- Wake up.

- Wake up.
- Hey, Mandy.

What?

Did you do this?

No.

No, I did not, but this is
what I'm trying to tell you

is that I'm gonna take the blame for it

when it was her assh*le
husband who did this sh*t.

He did it.

This was all him. Trust me. I know.

So, we got to get her out
of here before he comes back.

You got to help me.

Come on! Help me!

Come on! Don't just stand there!

It is a nice costume.

"Ferguson."

You need to invite me in... now.

I don't think that's a good idea.

Tom, it's a very good idea.

Another idea is that I call your wife.

What the hell?

Uh, there's a, um,
FBI agent in my office.

Be very interested in
what's going on here.

I never saw you, Tom.

Are you dressed?

Yes.

So, we know you're not a travel agent,

so let's start over with the truth,

if you don't want me to turn you in.

Who do you deal with here at the casino?

Different people.

Him?

I've seen him on the floor, but no.

Where are you from?

Boston.

Were you a prost*tute in Boston?

No, I was a waitress at The
Shamrock & Plough for years.

What made you come here?

The bartender there, actually.

He approached me and said that the
owner wanted me to come to Wyoming.

Said I'd make five times what
I made at The Shamrock & Plough,

and he was right.

- Who's the owner?
- Connor O'Brien.

Can you tell me what he looks like?

No. I've never seen the guy.

You should probably come to
the clinic for some x-rays.

I think you might have a broken rib.

Asha, do you want to press charges?

Against her?

Me? Why would you press
charges against me?

I'm the one who saved your stupid ass.

What were you doing in my house?

Cady and I were walking
by, and we heard a fight.

And then we saw that assh*le leave.

And I saw that nasty look in his
eyes, and I knew something was wrong.

Cady didn't want to go
in, but I knew we had to.

And then I found you... out cold.

Do you want to call the police?

Call the police.

You know, the first time J.P.
b*at me, he called the police.

Yeah, that's right.

He called the tribal
police to report himself,

just to rub it in my face that
there's nothing they could do about it.

He's white.

When was the first
time that he b*at you?

Last year.

Well, the law's changed since then.

Now the tribal police
can arrest a white guy

for abusing a native woman,

as long as the woman is
his wife or girlfriend.

I didn't know that.
Somebody should tell people.

Asha, you got to put him in
jail. You got to make him pay.

I don't want him in jail.
I just want him to stop.

If he goes to jail, he's
just gonna come back angrier.

He's gonna walk right back
through that door and he's...

Bitch, don't you get it?

You have to leave him.

I may not like you, but I hate him.

And I know you hate him, too.

And trust me... I got a lot on my plate,

and feeling guilty when you show up dead

is not something that I want to add.

Okay.

I'll do whatever you want.

I just don't want him in jail.

And I want to be safe.

I think there's a way we can do that.

Manifest Destinations doesn't have
a website or a single Yelp review.

So, uh... how'd the deposition go?

Not great.

Well, these things always
have a way of working out.

You've had a turnaround.

What are you doing over there?

Well, you know how we couldn't compare

the fingerprint on the syringe
with Eddie Harp's fingerprints

'cause we didn't have them?

Now we do.

Eddie Harp's file.

My deputy lifted one of Eddie
Harp's fingerprints from his badge.

Eddie grabbed it during the ambush.

I matched the print from my badge

to the heroin syringe that
Eddie used as the m*rder w*apon.

So, while you were here gambling,

we were solving a m*rder that gives you

serious leverage to use against
Eddie Harp, should you catch him.

Probably enough to get him to
give up the name of the mystery man

who's running heroin and
prostitution right out of this casino.

And one more thing.

There's no way that anyone from the
mob would have known, through my office,

that we had custody of Eddie Harp
or that we were transporting him.

I never gave Eddie a phone call.

So you may just want to check your
own house, see if you got a leak.

Good day, sir.

Well, better late than never, I guess.

Yeah.

- Sorry.
- Are you?

Eh, I feel like you're not.

Who's the second witness
that Tucker added?

You know what he's gonna say, I assume?

Yep.

Is it true?

It's complicated.

Nice of you to join us.

We were just getting
ready to pack it up.

You know, counselor,
it seems a little much

to keep my witness waiting,

- seeing as how he came all the way...
- Tucker.

Prefer the sheriff
didn't know where I lived.

He's got a nasty habit
of tracking me down

and sh**ting me or assaulting me.

Well, since you're in such a hurry,
why don't we just get right to it?

Sheriff.

So.

Mr. Browning, I've read your statement.

But isn't it true that when you had

your run-in with the sheriff
out there in those woods,

you were actually hunting down
a girl named Gabriella Langton?

You were gonna k*ll her so she
couldn't charge your men with r*pe.

Walt sh*t at you strictly
out of self-defense.

Isn't that what really happened?

Sounds like you, uh... you
haven't read my statement.

I was out in those woods hiking
with my friend, Trot Simic.

- With g*ns.
- Yeah, with g*ns.

It's grizzly country.
It's dangerous up there.

And then on our hike,
the sheriff ambushed us,

had my friend sh*t and
k*lled, nearly k*lled me.

Bet you're wishing you
would have finished me off

when you had the chance, huh, Sheriff?

He's lying, under oath.

Mr. Browning has received impeccable
reviews from his employers.

He's revered by his peers.

And he maintains his
cool in the presence

of somebody who tried to k*ll him...

not once, but twice, apparently.

Seems to me to be a reliable witness.

Truth is, I have just as many people
willing to attest to his good character

as I have people willing to testify
to your questionable character.

I'm leaving.

This is bullshit.

Well, just for the
record, I think I have

an alternate explanation for
the sheriff's abrupt departure.

Rather than be offended by
the aforementioned bullshit,

it could be that the
sheriff has to face the fact

that I found another victim who
was sh*t at, without any witnesses,

simply because the sheriff
couldn't make his charges stick.

The exact same pattern of behavior

that led to the tragic death
of my client, Barlow Connally.

Oh, but now listen to me go on.

This is your deposition,
ain't it, Counselor?

Hmm?

Please, fire away.

Henry.

I just brought you one 30 seconds ago.

What is going on?

Yeah.

You know, I'm in all this trouble

for trying to do my job well,

and... and I have to ask myself,

am I actually doing
my job well with the...

with the mob bringing
prostitutes and murderers

and... heroin into my county?

Then when I think I've found
the guy that's behind it,

turns out the guy's
been using a fake name.

Connor O'Brien has
been dead for 40 years.

Rest in peace.

What if I have the real name?

Shane Muldoon.

How do you know that?

I cannot say.

Well, I'll ask you again.

How do you know that?

Walt, I wanted to help you. Now I have.

- I do not want...
- Henry.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Who gave you the name Shane Muldoon?

Nighthorse.

So Nighthorse has a relationship

with this guy, the
head of the Irish Mob.

Malachi may be more crooked
here than Nighthorse.

Nighthorse hired Malachi.

Whatever Malachi does is on Nighthorse.

He's got to know.

You know the one thing I've learned
through all these depositions?

If you're at the top,
you're held responsible.

Nighthorse is going down.

You cannot bring him down yet.

Why not?

He promised to get me my bar back.

Oh, Henry.

Please.

Well, I can't wait long.

You figure it out fast.

Moving forward, we need to be sure

all the witnesses we call
have detailed accounts...

Dave.

Yeah?

This civil suit

is not about whether or
not I did the right thing.

It's... it's about negotiating lies.

I don't know how to play that game.

I want to settle.

Walt, don't be thrown
by these depositions.

I mean, Tucker Baggett
just delayed those witnesses

to put pressure on you
so that you would settle.

You're the one who told me to
settle in the first place, Dave.

Well, that was before
I saw Tucker's game.

I-I can't stand his
good-old-boy bullying.

Walt, I'm very good at what I do.

And now that I see how
this is gonna be played,

I think we should keep fighting.

- I think we can win.
- I don't care about winning.

I care about being able to
get back to doing my job.

This lawsuit is a restraining order
that's keeping me from being effective.

Well, we can do this and get you back...

These people did not elect
me to protect myself, Dave.

I'm here to protect them.

Right now, heroin is
pouring into my county,

a m*rder*r is on the loose,

and a mob boss thinks he can move in.

I have work to do.

If that's what you really want.

It is.

All right then.

Well, you're insured by
Absaroka County for $250,000.

That's $250,000 more

than the Barlow Connally estate
deserves, but... so be it.

- Dave.
- Yeah?

Thanks, bud.

Hey.

So, I've scoured the
whole damn World Wide Web,

and there is nothing on
Manifest Destinations, so

I did a Google Street View of the
address that matches the credit card,

and it's just a vacant lot and a bar.

Uh...

Tell Ruby I'm gonna take
the next couple of days off.

Hey, Punk.

Dad. Hi.

I have a favor to ask you.

What's that?

You want to come along and deliver
a restraining order with me?

There's a white guy who
lives on the Res, and he...

- Why do you need me?
- I think it...

it might have more impact
coming from a sheriff.

Well, I have a better idea, Cady.

You should quit.

Dad, come on.

You know, you can run
errands for Nighthorse.

I won't.

I'm really trying to help people here.

You do know you're being
paid with dirty money.

Money from dr*gs and prostitution.

Wow. Those are some
pretty big accusations.

Do you have any proof of that?

Spoken like a true lawyer.

Listen, uh, I'll talk to you later.

I have something I have to do.

I have some news, which I'm
sure you'll be happy to hear.

What's that, Counselor?

My client, Walt
Longmire, wants to settle.

- Uh-huh.
- Yeah, it dawned on Walt

what a pain in the ass
this lawsuit's gonna be.

It's not worth his time.

You want maximized value
for the estate you represent,

and Walt just wants to get back to work.

- What number were you thinking?
- $250,000.

That's exactly what
the county's covered for

- under their insurance policy.
- Right.

Everybody wins.

So, I'll draft the paperwork and get...

Don't bother.

- Pardon?
- You heard me.

I said don't bother.

Walt Longmire's not
concerned about the hassle.

He's concerned about losing.

And now you both understand
the case that I have,

you both understand that
I can get a lot more money.

So the settlement's off the table.

The good people of Absaroka deserve
to hear this evidence in court.

And the citizens of this county

deserve to know what kind
of sheriff they elected.

And when they do, they're gonna realize

that poor Barlow Connally deserves
a hell of a lot more than $250,000.

So, if you'll excuse me,
Counselor, I need to practice.

I brought you these fish.

Now there's no reason for
you to come back to Absaroka.

I'm gonna be very
polite, but very clear.

I want you out of my county.

I know who you are.

The FBI does not.

Not yet.

You came all the way across
the country to thr*aten me?

No.

No, I came to help you.

I'm giving you a heads-up.

I just gave the FBI evidence

that connects your man,
Eddie Harp, to a m*rder.

If they catch him,

what do you think Eddie's gonna choose?

Life sentence for m*rder
or a deal from the feds?

Your name in exchange
for protective custody.

I'm sure you already know
that Eddie's quite a talker.

Are you telling me to k*ll him?

I don't tell people how
to run their business.

I'm just trying to help
you stay out of prison.

I also strongly encourage you

and your dr*gs and your prostitutes

to stay out of my county.

If you don't, I'll tell
the FBI who you are.

What makes you think I won't k*ll you

in the middle of the
night, Sheriff Longmire?

Others have tried.

Look me up.

You'll find I have quite a reputation.

I know he has a g*n.

Before you signal him
to k*ll me, know this...

if I don't come home,
I've left instructions

for my deputy to give
an envelope to the FBI.

It's got your name in it.

Shane Muldoon.

Is Absaroka County
really worth your time?

And your life?

Enjoy the fish.