When: Present (January); Wee hours of the night (Phase 1 related to PD3)

Where: Beck's Home (private staff house on Crown B Ranch)

As Tim drove the truck in the direction of Crown B, he replayed the hours at Lost Horse Saloon on a loop. Anyone who really knew Tim would never believe he had a brand on his chest; what the brand represented typically contradicted most of what he held dear. It was moments like these that the brand welled up with phantom pain; a physical reminder of the price he paid: his soul. The regret hurt, but the regret was never enough to hold him back.

He knew Crown B wasn't exactly a residence that you drove into, but he at least warned Beck of this "visit." The ease in which Tim drove his truck into the land at the border of Faye Blackburn's ranch, a few smaller buildings' outdoor lights blinked, told Tim all he needed to know. Beck at least managed to come up with a good enough reason for why he was on the premises this late (or early) in the day.

The night air was eerily still as Tim pulled up to the little house that Beck called home. He kept his hands in his pockets, hunched like a crow, against the chill of the winter air. Much like the summer, winter in Paxton was dry and bitter. He just raised his hand to knock on the door when it opened. At the sight of Beck, he offered a curt nod. "You ready to look into something?" He asked, already knowing that none of them really had a choice in the matter.