His Savior, Her Hero (A Tim Gutterson Story)

The Guilty Detective

Tim looked at Harper as she joined the rest of the marshals in the office. She was still half asleep after finding out they were out of coffee. They had decided not to tell anyone they lived together. He had changed his address in his personnel file, but other than that, it wasn't anyone's business.

He looked at the tall, rugged and iconic man that looked less than pleased about his public introduction, though Art was definitely amused.

"Everyone, this is our newest hire, Raylan Givens. He's a transfer from the Miami office and the marshal that killed Tommy Bucks."

"If he can take care of Bucks, maybe he can take care of Delaney, too," a man said as he entered the room.

Tim recognized him as Detective Madison. Harper wasn't near him, and he wished she was. While everyone had turned to look at the man, Harper hadn't moved. She looked absolutely defeated.

Art sighed, "Detective."

"Where is she?"

There was a terrible coldness that crossed Harper's face as she looked to Madison, "What do you want?"

"There's a body in the morgue that you haven't cut up yet."

Harper pushed through the people, heading to the office coffee pot. By sheer luck she grabbed one of Tim's and poured her a cup. She lifted her mug a bit, "Welcome back, Raylan."

"Thanks, Bonnie."

She sipped the coffee and headed out, Detective Madison scolding her the whole way.

"Tim, go with them," Art said suspiciously.

He followed, taking the stairwell while Harper had been more or less forced to take the elevator. By some chance of luck, he got to the morgue before them.

Getting in, he stuck to Harper's dark office.

The door opened, Madison still insulting Harper however he could. Harper had yet to say anything.

There was a familiar click that followed the drawer opening. Tim stepped out of the office, his gun ready as he watched Madison hold his gun to Harper's head.

"I've had to look at your goddamn face every day for the past eleven years. The one at my desk is much better. You had such a good mugshot back then. A good busted lip, a black eye, some broken ribs, a broken wrist, broken ankles. Oh, how you screamed. It was a beautiful sound. I wish I could hear those screams again. Except, I think I'll see how far you go before you beg for mercy."

"You move, you die," Tim said coldly.

Madison was silent for a moment before he chuckled, "Ah, the boyfriend to the rescue. Son, do you know who you're involved with?"

"Yeah, I do," Tim replied. "Put all of your guns on the ground or I put a bullet in your head. Harper, get behind me."

Tim kept his focus on the detective as Harper made her way behind him.

"Go ahead and put your guns by my feet," Tim ordered gently.

When the detective and Harper had finished putting their weapons down, Tim directed the detective to Harper's office and kept her in the morgue. He collected the weapons, putting them on the other side of the morgue and headed to Harper's office to call Art.

When the detective moved, Tim pointed his gun at him, "I told you not to move. If Harper can listen to orders, so can you."

The detective was red faced.

"Chief Mullen," Art sighed.

"Can you come to the morgue? We have a situation."

"This isn't a situation, Deputy. This is you not letting me take care of a demon that's free to walk our streets."