Longmire

You've reached the Longmire residence.

Sorry we're not here to take your call.

Please leave a message.

We'll be happy to call you back.

Walt. Hey, it's Vic. Pick, up, pick up, pick up.

All right. So, Billy and Bob Barnes called.

Said to send someone out to pronghorn Ridge,

and it's my day off.

I really don't want to go.

Walt?

Damn it.

Walt, it's Vic. Again.

I am calling you on my day off

as I am driving out to pronghorn Ridge.

I don't want to deal with these wing nuts on my own,

so I expect you to get your ass out there and help me.

Please.

You've reached the Longmire residence.

Sorry we're not here to take your call.

Please leave a message.

We'll be happy to call you back.

Walt, it's Vic. We got a dead body.

Sorry I kept you waiting, Vic.

No, you're not.

So, where are the Barnes boys?

I was sick of the old one hitting on me,

so I sent them back up to their truck.

The body

is way up here,

about 200 yards.

That's a sheep.

I said we had a dead body.

I never said what species.

So, now that you're here, you got it under control.

I guess I'll go home, enjoy my day off.

And miss all the fun? Come on.

We camped out last night

so we could get huntin' first thing this morning.

We checked it out

and saw that somebody shot a sheep.

There are no footprints heading up that hill.

How'd you get close enough

to see the sheep had been shot?

Well, my scope.

Your scope?

Now, normally, we would ignore a dead sheep,

but I know how it looks...

A couple of guys up here with a couple of drinks in 'em,

taking target practice.

I swear that ain't what happened, Walt.

This sucks.

Look, I know I've only been here six months,

but I'm not exactly a rookie.

You've made that clear.

Just about every day for six months.

I'm just saying,

I was working homicide in Philadelphia for five years.

And a dead sheep is a waste of my talent...

And my time.

Last thing I want to do is waste your valuable time.

So, why don't you start knocking on a few doors

and see if anybody saw anything?

I want a raise.

Seriously, though, Walt,

what kind of messed-up person shoots a sheep?

I mean, I know they're not as cute and Fluffy

as they're made out to be and all,

but they're nice enough.

Walt?

What you doing?

Thinking.

I do that sometimes before I talk.

You know what they call a flock of ravens?

Um, no.

An "unkindness"... An unkindness of ravens.

What the hell is wrong with "flock"?

"Unkindness" is just a little more apropos.

Oh, shit.

That a 12-gauge Mossberg?

Hunting accident?

Nah. Look at his clothes.

More aprèès-ski than avid hunter.

Well, it looks like he went down

before it started snowing.

I'll check with the weather service, see when that was.

Let's flip him.

Okay. Go.

Careful, careful.

Exit wound is obviously here.

Means he was shot in the back.

The shooter could've been anywhere...

High ground, low ground, behind a tree.

Victim never shot back.

Sometimes you are so full of shit.

What are you, Cheyenne?

Smell oil, the gun's been cleaned.

Smell gunpowder, it's been fired.

I smell oil.

What's wrong?

When you been doing this as long as I have,

you get so you know about every face

in Absaroka county. So, who is he?

That's the thing.

I don't know.

You wait right here, Mr. Parkford.

Where you been, Walt?

People were asking after you at the pancake breakfast.

Just out tending to the police side of the job.

But nice to know you got the glad-handing covered.

I was just representin'. Can't serve the community

if we don't talk to the community, sheriff.

A man got shot and killed out there.

I think the community will understand.

I thought the Barneses

were just pulling another drunken prank.

What happened?

Look who just got interested in police work.

Walt, if you got yourself a cellphone,

you could've called me directly

and told me what was up.

I don't need a cellphone, Branch.

I just need you to be part of the team.

Can't just dip in and out of the job

when it suits you.

All right, then, let me help the team.

Who got shot?

A sheep and a man named Parkford.

And Vic's lead deputy on this one.

I got ya.

Maybe I should go out there and apologize to her.

One dead body's enough.

Morning, sheriff.

Ruby, how we doing today?

Well, somebody trashed Craig Martin's pickup...

Sprayed all over it with spray paint,

uh, mostly derogatory comments,

uh, one specific warning to women not to breed with Craig.

Okay, I paraphrased that part.

Doc bloomfield wants to reschedule your physical.

Vic called four times

wondering when you're gonna send the Ferg out.

And Cady wanted to confirm lunch.

Call Craig Martin.

Tell him to apologize to his girlfriend.

"No" on the physical,

and tell Cady we can try for lunch tomorrow.

Why don't you call her, sheriff?

She's your daughter. She likes you better.

And what about Vic?

Is the Ferg dressed for the elements today?

I got some capilene in my car.

Where am I going?

Pronghorn Ridge trailhead.

Vic's out there. She'll fill you in.

I'll go with you, Ferg.

No, Branch, you're staying here.

Victim had a 12-gauge Mossberg.

Book it into evidence.

These are the plates on the vehicles...

Tell me who owns 'em,

what guns they do and don't have registered.

See if any of them know the Barnes boys,

the victim, or if they heard any gunshots.

This is Wyoming. Everybody hears gunshots.

Where are you going, sheriff?

To drop the victim off at the hospital

so doc bloomfield can get an autopsy going.

Then I'm going to Wheatland.

That's a five-hour drive.

That's where the victim's from.

This kind of news is best not delivered over the phone.

You're gonna notify next of kin?

Ferg, why are you still here? Sorry.

Hey, Walt, that's a long-ass drive.

I could do that for you.

You could.

Then you wouldn't be doing what I asked you to do.

He hasn't done a notification in a while.

He hasn't done much in a while.

Are you Susan Parkford?

Mm-hmm.

I'm sheriff Longmire, Absaroka county.

That's practically Montana.

Yeah. Uh, could I come in?

Of course.

I just, um... I just have a couple questions,

if you don't mind.

Okay.

Um...

Do you know where your husband is?

Laramie... At the university.

There's a conference. He's a high school teacher.

Is he in some kind of trouble?

How long's he been in laramie?

He left yesterday... Early, before I got up.

Uh-huh. He a fisherman?

No.

W-well, a little bit, but those are mine.

I tie flies and sell 'em

to an outfitter in Jackson hole.