Banged on the door and when no one came a strike team officer yelled at the house, “Open up or it’s coming down!” So when still no one came they used a sledgehammer-what the strike team called their master key-busted in and here was a woman standing in the living room no doubt the whole time, not saying a word. One of the strike team, a sheriff’s deputy, told her they had a warrant for the arrest of Russell Robert Lyles and asked was he in the house. The woman said no, he wasn’t, and had no idea where he might be. The deputy said to her, “If Russell’s upstairs, you’re going to jail.” And the woman said, “He’s upstairs.”

Raylan waited for Joyce, saw her nod, but that’s all; she didn’t say anything. She didn’t see the point he was trying to make.

So Raylan said, “You understand it wasn’t like the woman was giving the guy up, telling on him. There was nothing she could do, so she said yeah, he’s upstairs.”

Joyce nodded again, uh-huh. “So did you get him?”

She still didn’t see the point.

“We got him. Even with all the commotion, busting the door down? The guy was still in bed.”

“Did you shoot him?”

Looking right at Raylan as she said it and it stopped him, because he could see she was serious, waiting for him to answer.

“We had to wake him up.”

Nudged the guy with a shotgun-the way it actually happened-the sheriff’s deputy saying, “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”

But that wasn’t the point either. What he wanted Joyce to see, she had as much chance of helping Harry Arno as this woman had of hiding a fugitive. There was a silence. “I didn’t like to bust into somebody’s house,” Raylan said. “I asked the woman why she didn’t open the door. She said, ‘Invite you in for iced tea?’”

There was another silence until Raylan said, “You know Harry’s an alcoholic,” and saw Joyce look at him as if she might’ve missed something, one minute talking about apprehending a fugitive… “You know that, don’t you?”