Cut Bank Page #3

Say you're a... nine?

Besides, we don't carry

anything above a 14.

Anybody buy a bigger size of these?

That's an odd thing to ask.

Why are you askin'?

We'd have to special order a shoe

of that size in from the manufacturer.

Well... we haven't.

Well, let me check

with our sister store in Browning.

Native on the reservation ordered

a size 16 'bout seven months ago.

Thank you.

So... taking you don't

need the nines, or...

Perhaps you can show me the mail truck.

Parcel in there belongs to me.

Perhaps you saw it.

Perhaps your... accomplices may know

where I can find my parcel.

I would appreciate if you told me...

where I can find my parcel.

Hi. My name is Cassandra Steely,

and I think I'd make a great

Miss Cut Bank because...

Ain't no mountain high,

ain't no valley low

Ain't no river wide enough, baby

If you need me call me

no matter where you are

No matter how far, don't worry baby

Just call my name...

Hey!

- I keep running into you, Sheriff Vogel.

- Don't it seem? Pretty good.

Oh, thanks. Only space

that's wide enough like a stage,

so I've been practicing my dance.

Well, the bit I saw looked

blue ribbon to me. Your daddy in?

- No, he's not. You try his cell?

- Ain't pickin' up.

Oh. Must be with a client.

He never picks up when he's with clients.

Yeah. Just wanted to inquire about a truck.

I'll see him when I do.

You know, Dwayne's out back.

Maybe he can help ya.

Okay. Well... keep doin'

what you're doin'.

- How's the investigation?

- Oh, comin' along.

I sure feel okay with you on it.

And Dwayne...

he thinks of you like a daddy, so...

Just thanks for what you're doin'.

Good luck with your dancin'.

Hiya, Dwayne.

Sheriff Vogel.

Pretty slow business today.

We're closed. Steeley's got me

at the junk lot foragin' for usable parts.

- Fixin' to sell the lot to Marty Corcoran.

- Whitefish Marty Corcoran. Good fella.

Had a question for your boss.

Maybe you can help me with it.

Sure.

Do you remember seein' around here

a dually 'bout the size of an F-350?

Used to have a truck like that back

when we towed, but that was...

five, six years ago.

- Steeley gave it away.

- You know who he gave it to?

No. Sorry.

- You work here alone?

- Me and the Native.

The Native... What's his name?

- Match.

- Match. Match what?

Tasunke.

Match Tasunke.

Where is he today?

Ain't seen him since a few days back.

By the way, I had lunch today

with that postal inspector from D.C.,

and he wants to meet you,

but I gotta find the body first.

Then you'll be set.

The body?

Match Tasunke?

Mr. Tasunke? Police.

Hello. No one is available

to take your call.

Please leave a message after the tone.

It's a swell property.

Let's deal inside.

Step right in, Marty.

Jesus H.

Oh, come on. Kid doesn't appreciate

vintage when he sees it.

Certainly appreciates that funny nectar.

I'm sorry about the state

around here, Marty.

It's all about the structure, you know?

The property.

- That's the important thing.

- Jesus.

Jesus.

- Get back to ya.

- Right.

It's good seein' you.

- Dwayne.

- Mr. Corcoran.

- Well, give my best to Sherry, will you?

- Bet ya.

What the hell's going on here?

I come with my prospective buyer,

and you make me out to be an imbecile.

All the blinds are shut, there's enough

beer cans over there for a three-day binge,

phonograph turnin'.

Looks like a hobo camp in here.

- Won't happen again, sir.

- You're damn right!

Give thanks I don't

turn you to unemployment, kid.

- Is your brow sweatin'?

- No, sir.

Look me in the eye

when I'm talkin' to you.

I've been cleaning them parts

like you said.

I'm sorry about the beer.

I'm on to you.

What are you talking about?

Of all the places

you can point a camera,

you point it at a money-makin' crime.

Now, that's downright lucky,

and lucky don't run in your blood.

You and me both know that.

It'd take perfect execution to pull off

that kinda ploy, and I ain't smart for that.

Your squirrelly ass don't wanna know

what'll happen if you stick around.

You abused my trust.

I thought better of you.

Now get outta here.

- Big Stan...

- Get!

I'm pretty goddamned

disappointed in you!

You stay out of my face!

Don't make me tell you again.

Now who do we have here?

What, are you tweeked

on some drugs or something?

Get out of there!

- Come on! Get out!

- Oh, geez.

Get out of there!

Georgie Wits?

Me?

You mind givin' us a minute?

I'm done here at 9:00.

I got events under way

that are makin' my time difficult.

I'd appreciate if you'd draw your line

in the sand some other time.

I need privacy.

I got somethin' on my chest,

and I'm just gonna say it, if it's okay.

I know how hard this will be on you.

That business you seen on the news

about the mailman...

I set everyone up on that.

I did it.

And I'm sorry.

I never wanted to let you down,

but I wanted you to know in honest.

I ruined everything.

I ruined everything, and I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Thought you was dead.

I'm looking for my parcel.

Figure you stoled it.

It was addressed to...

4 Woolly Walnut Trail.

I deliver a package there

every year in June.

You know how many flats I've had

trying to get to you?

I know where your package is.

You operate on one really

weird mail cycle.

I...

- I ain't got patience.

- Patience?

Well, that's a f***in' virtue.

You ought to get it.

Gonna give me hitches like the Indian?

You threatened the Native?

Oh, I'm sure you got a lot out of him.

You know, I... I don't like your tone.

That's... That sh*t you're doing

with the... crowbar there...

and your tone, I don't like it.

And you think you're gonna come threaten me

and pry your package out of me?

Well, that's real f***in' clever.

You know what? I'm starting to think

that you might be an a**hole.

It doesn't have to be like that.

You can talk to me like a civilized

f***ing human being.

Just want my parcel.

Well, you know what? F*** you.

I got news for you.

Your way ain't the way sh*t works.

You can't just come up here and prance in

anytime you want and knock me around

on your own agenda.

I got my own agenda.

But does anybody respect it?

No way, Jos.

You're the virus of my job.

A forest-child f***in' mongoloid.

What? You want me to smile at you...

like a happy f***ing mailman?

Oh, creepy f*** nuts,

thank you so much

for showing me your shiny lever.

Well, for me, all day long it's... "Howdy,

ma'am. How are you? Here's your mail.

Say hi to the kids for me."

I got pleasantries demanded of me,

I say f*** it.

And f*** them.

And f*** you!

I'm sorry. I was kidding.

It was a joke.

I mean, I don't know much.

It was the other guy all the way.

It was his plan, not mine. Come on,

we're friends, man. We're friends.

I mean, it was... it was Dwayne.

Come on, it's... We're... we're friends.

- Sheriff Vogel?

- Just the man I needed to see.

- I need to talk to you.

- Did you see Big Stan?

- Yeah.

- Did you tell him I needed a word with him?

- I didn't get a chance to get a word...

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