That's My Girl
Since 1970, the Federal Witness Protection Program has relocated thousands of witnesses, some criminal, some not, to neighborhoods all across the country. Every one of those individuals shares a unique attribute, distinguishing them from the rest of the general population. And that is, somebody wants them dead.
***
Chapter 1
Two months ago
Normal, Illinois
Marvin glared savagely at the dull gray interior of his cubicle. The computer to his left beeped innocuously, the sound overshadowed by the ticking of his watch. By this point in his shift – with less than fifteen minutes to go – his world narrowed to allow no greater distraction than the steady tick-tick-tick of his Timex.
This job was a dead end one. Too poor to go to college, Marvin had taken a job with the company straight off his grade twelve year. At first it had been tolerable. The hours were standard, Monday through Friday, eight to four; the pay was excellent, with starting wage at 13 dollars an hour; and his bosses were fair, which was more than he could have said about the day job he had taken as a high school senior.
The ticking of the watch hitched once, the end of an hour. Marvin reached to hit the off switch on his computer monitor, not bothering to stop the work he had been skillfully ignoring since his three o'clock coffee. His coat in hand he stood and exited the quiet, orderly hell he existed in for forty hours every week, for the past twenty years.
The parking lot was full to near capacity and Marvin found himself dodging a car, a woman with a small toddler and an abandoned shopping cart before arriving at his pale silver pick-up. The same car he had bought with this job's first paycheck – back when he thought the money pit was bottomless.
The drive home was short and silent. Marvin disliked music and abhorred talk-shows. At home he pulled into the driveway with one easy arch and came to a stop beside a light blue sedan. Kathy was there again.
Kathy, Marvin's girlfriend, worked in Real Estate. She had managed only the first two years of business school before her poor attendance and a rumor of her less-than-professional relationship with the dean of admissions had driven her out. A few months after being kicked out of school she latched onto Marvin.
The front door was opened just as Marvin was climbing out of his car. He could see Kathy, standing on the stoop talking to Patty. He smiled. She had always claimed to be lonely when he was at work. Kathy had her own place on the other side of town, but no one who knew the couple would have believed it. She visited only often enough to remind the spiders that the place was indeed not their own.
Marvin passed Patty on the steps and grinned his hello.
"You're home early." Kathy observed blandly from her place lounging on the leather sofa he had worked overtime for a month to buy.
"I'm home exactly when I always am," he said, calmly hanging up his briefcase and jacket.
"Well then. My clock must be slow." She smiled at him.
He smiled back.
"Would you like a drink?"
"Bandy on the rocks." He said, sinking into a chair.
"Of course," she turned an unsuspecting back and went to the bar to pour him his usual après work beverage.
Marvin accepted the drink. The rich alcohol caressed his throat and he sighed with contentment. There was only one feeling in the world that could rival that of his first drink after work.
"So, you had a late night last night. Did you and the guys have fun?" Kathy's voice held an edge of steel.
Marvin swirled the drink and responded blandly, "I wasn't with the guys, as you well know."
"Oh lord Marvin,' Kathy sank her head into her hands, "not again. You promised me not again."
"I lied." The second swig of brandy sizzled its way to his navel.
"Where is she? What did you do to her?"
"She's fine." He sent a sharp, suspicious gaze in her direction, "Who have you told?"
"N-no one. God Marvin, I'm not – I wouldn't—"
"I know. And even if you did, it wouldn't do any good."
"I wouldn't be so sure; you're bound to get caught one day. When will you stop this madness?"
"I won't get caught. There's no evidence. All they would have is your testimony, and we all know how much good that would do." He smirked, standing to hover menacingly over her, "I've let you have a normal life so far Kath, do you really want to risk it?"
Kathy stared at him, her mind numb with fear. "You're sick!"
"They aren't like us Kath. They're dirty. Foul." His voice increased in volume, "They deserve it."
"No one deserves that."
Marvin leaned down until his nose was inches from her. His tone, when he spoke, oozed malice, "They practically beg for it. Much like you did once upon a time."
"They're CHILDREN Marvin. You sick fuck!" Kathy's eyes were shining with tears as she looked up at him, her chin trembling with the implications of what she had just said.
Fury so strong it was palpable coursed through Marvin. He reached out a hand and slapped her hard across one cheek, leaving a white imprint of his palm. "Children are innocent," Marvin said, "these girls are far from innocent."
"Once you're through with them." Kathy muttered bitterly. Regard for her own safety taking a momentary back-seat to her anger. She knew Marvin was a dangerous man, a rapist and murderer. A sociopath, or at least as close to one as a living breathing human being could be and she loathed him for it, but she had no way out.
Marvin slapped her again for her protestation. Then, his hands gripping the arms of the chair he held her in place and whispered a final threat, "If you ever contradict me again you'll end up just like they are. No one ever lacks the room for one more toy."
***
Present day
Albuquerque, New Mexico
Marshall left the impromptu engagement party as Stan was popping the cork on the second bottle of champagne. Mary watched his tall, upright frame disappear through the security doors with a leaden feeling of dread in her stomach.
He hadn't spoken a word to her since his toast a half hour earlier. He'd spoken to Stan, joked with Eleanor, and spouted off random facts like a living encyclopedia, but he wouldn't even look at her. She'd never realized how much she relied on his sly smile and obnoxious remarks to carry her through social situations like this until they were suddenly gone – not actually gone, just never sent in her direction. And the worst part? It was all her fault.
I should have told him.
It was the thousandth time the thought had rolled through her mind that day, but no matter how often or vehemently she thought it the weeks she had lied to her best friend refused to rewind. There was no going back. She'd ruined everything.
Eleanor's laughter cut into her maudlin thoughts. Something Stan had said had the other woman in stitches, her cheeks bright with pleased embarrassment. A sight that would normally have led to several minutes of smug bantering between her and Marshall, without him there to laugh at them there wasn't even a point in being snide. She downed her glass of champagne, said her goodbyes and made her way to the parking lot.
It wasn't until she pulled into her driveway that she remembered. Today was moving day. When she walked through the door to her home it wouldn't just be Brandi and Jinx to contend with, Raph would be there. From today onwards Raph would always be there.
She shut the car door with much more force than was necessary. It didn't help.
She paused on the front porch and slipped on the ring that had caused such ruckus that day. It didn't even suit her. Sure it was beautiful, probably cost a bundle and a half to buy, but it wasn't her. As far as she was concerned, it had looked better on Marshall's hand than it ever would on hers. Not that she believed any US Marshal should ever be seen wearing a shiny lump of diamond.
An engagement ring invited conversation. Personal conversation. With complete strangers. People see an engagement ring sparkling in the sunlight and suddenly they're your long lost best friend wanting every little detail that led to the all important engagement ring being placed on your finger. What Marshall in their own mind would willingly wear a sign that invited invasions to her privacy at every turn?
She opened the door and glared briefly at the back of Raph 's head as he sat on her living room couch watching baseball on her television.
He hit the mute button and turned to greet her, a welcoming smile on his handsome face. "You're home late."
She resisted the urge to throw something at him. "Work." She snarled. "I have an early day tomorrow. Goodnight."
Ignoring the slightly hurt look on his face she slipped into the bathroom and locked the door.
***
The next morning Mary rose before the sun and was at the office by seven in hopes she could catch Marshall before Stan or Eleanor arrived. She knew he liked to come in early to get some of his paperwork out of the way before the office became a center for chaos with the arrival of the rest of the WitSec team.
She usually rolled in some time around nine, preferring to stay late when there was extra work to be done rather than cheating herself out of much needed sleep to get there early, unless it was one of those not-so-rare occasions when she spent the entire night at the office.
By eight o'clock the stillness was driving her crazy. She'd consumed three cups of coffee, just to pass the time, and caught up on the worst of the paperwork mound on her desk. She hadn't snarled at anyone, shot a spit wad or taken a break to do more than refill her coffee cup in over an hour.
At eight thirty Marshall breezed into the office, coffee in hand. "What, you sleep here?" He asked, not quite meeting her eyes.
"Nope. Just thought I'd get an early start."
"Jinx or Brandi?"
Raph her mind supplied unbidden. She cut a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, he wasn't looking at her, but there was a stiffness in his posture that told her he was listening very closely. She sighed, "Neither, just got behind with all the excitement lately."
"Uuh-huh." He sounded like his old self for a moment. Full of detached skepticism tinged with the smallest amount of amusement.
She resisted the urge to throw something at his head, settling for a wry half-smile. "I should have told you."She said after a few moment of silence.
"Yeah, you should have."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't mention it." He hoped she would take him at his word. He couldn't talk about it, and he certainly didn't want to hear her talking about it. If she asked him to help he would, that was the job, but until then he planned to pretend the hellish day before had been a figment of his imagination.
Mary nodded silently, perfectly content to let the events of the previous day alone.
And that was that. Twenty minutes later Stan arrived with a new intake case file, Eleanor and Mary sparred and everything progressed as normal. Well… almost normal.
***
"Your witness is on her way in," Stan announced, stepping out of his office a few hours later. "FBI just called to let us know her flight was on time and they're bringing her straight here."
"Thank you Stan." Marshall replied, not looking up from the file spread before him. The new intake would be Mary's witness, but since he did a large share of her paperwork he wanted to familiarize himself with the wit's details before she arrived.
Her name was Kathy Fraiser, now Kathy Ford. A woman who had the misfortune of entering a relationship with a man who got his jollies kidnapping and raping children before killing them and chopping up their remains. According to the FBI report Kathy had, in essence, lived with Marvin Shore for the last six months. The last three of these months were spent in fear for her life after she found out what it was her boyfriend was doing during the many evenings she'd assumed he was out drinking at a bar with the guys. She had finally gone to the FBI when he threatened to use her like he'd used the others. Unfortunately for Kathy, though her testimony was useful for getting warrants and perhaps necessary to help tie Marvin to any bodies they might find, it was not enough for them to arrest and hold Marvin – thus Kathy became the newest WitSec witness for the Albuquerque office.
Mary looked up from her copy of Kathy's file, "This should be interesting. Sure you don't want her?" Under most circumstances Mary would take any case they could throw at her – even an eight year old entering the program solo – but she had no desire to cater to the wants of a serial rapist and murderer's ex-girlfriend.
"She's all yours." Marshall grinned smugly.
Mary was saved the trouble of a smart ass remark by the arrival of her witness. Shorter than Mary by several inches, Kathy had light mousy brown hair and dark bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. Despite herself, Mary felt a pang of pity as she gathered the file and memorandum of understanding and followed her newest witness into the meeting room, Marshall a few feet behind her.
"I'm Marshal Mary Sheppard, this is my partner, Marshal Marshall Miller," Mary took a seat across from the witness, "and this is your Memorandum of Understanding."
The reading of the intensely thick legalese went as quickly as could be expected. Kathy had very few questions and Mary didn't linger on any of the details. When they reached the end she pushed the thick document across the table for Kathy to sign. "Do you have any questions about what I've just read?"
Kathy seemed to shrink into her seat, eyes nervously darting from Mary to Marshall and back again. When she finally spoke her voice was so soft Mary leaned in a little to hear it, "I – I was a real estate agent. My p-picture was everywhere. Wh-what am I s-supposed to d-do now?"
"You won't be able to work as a real estate agent any longer," Mary replied, matter of factly, like this should have been obvious. "It's too dangerous to have your picture passed around like that. If you like sales I'm sure you can find a job in retail."
Kathy nodded. "Ok."
Marshall and Mary exchanged skeptical looks, most wits reacted to the news that they would have to give up their former careers for good with indignation at the very least – more often with outright fury. Mary shrugged. It was definitely more pleasant this way.
There was a knock at the door, Mary excused them and she and Marshall stepped out to join Stan in the hall. "What's going on Chief?"
"Just got off the phone with the DA, they want a psych eval on your witness. It's one of the conditions of her enrollment in the program."
Mary groaned, "Let me guess –"
The rest of her sentence was cut off abruptly when Shelly stepped into the office. "Chief, Mary, Marshall," She smiled.
"Let's get this over with." Mary turned and led the way back into the room. "Kathy, this is Shelly, she's going to talk with you and then we'll take you to see your new home ok?"
Marshall watched Shelly as she took the empty chair beside Kathy and smiled serenely at the woman. He couldn't decide which was stranger, that he had gone on a date – ok, more like half a date – with this woman, or that despite the many things they had in common, he was relieved she wouldn't be asking him out again anytime soon.
He'd dated women who were perfect for him. Smart women, sensitive women, women who wanted him for who they thought he was. But they all shared a fatal flaw. They weren't her. He'd never admitted it to himself, always finding something else to place the blame on - they were fake, they were too adventurous, they were needy – but reality boiled down to one painfully simple reason none of his relationships in the last five years had panned out: they were not Mary.
His infuriating, domineering, secretive, impulsive, sexy partner. She was the reason he'd spent the last half decade riding one cold wave of anxiety after another, why the job he'd loved became day after day of sweet torment. He wished he could hate her for it.
But he couldn't hate her and he couldn't leave her. He was stuck. And now she was leaving him. Leaving him alone, loving her, so she could marry a steroid pumping ex-baseball star who may or may not have slept with her sister Brandi. And he had no choice but to pretend he was happy for them. He was her keeper, that was his job and he'd promised her he wouldn't quit.
He shot a look at his partner and noted, with an infuriating bolt of hope, that even though they all knew about it now, she still wasn't wearing the engagement ring.
** *
By five Kathy was settled into her new apartment, a sack full of groceries on the counter, and Mary's promise to come check on her the next day.
Mary climbed into her car and headed for home. Halfway there she changed her mind. Eyes on the road, left hand on the steering wheel she fumbled for her mobile phone and hit speed dial one.
"That was fast." She could almost hear the smile in Marshall's familiar voice.
"What can I say? I'm efficient."
"Which is of course why you are calling me."
"I'm headed back to the office via the Starbucks drive through and thought you might want something. See this is why I don't bother being nice, no appreciation."
"Your treat?"
"In your dreams."
He snickered. "Yeah, grab me a half caf, triple cappuccino, heavy on the foam."
"Will do."
"And leave a tip this time will you?"
"Marshall, we've been over this. They aren't waiters, they pour coffee. The only tip they need is to get a better job."
"Rawr"
"See you in a few." Mary disconnected the phone and pulled a u-turn that sent her back in the direction of caffeinated goodness and the office. She told herself quite firmly that she wasn't avoiding home, just doing her job.
At eight thirty she had to admit that she was avoiding home, at least a little bit. Marshal was still there, staring with a furrowed brow at something on his computer screen, but Stan and Eleanor had left hours ago and she was entirely caught up on her backlog of paperwork for the first time she could remember. Before she could follow through on the thought that she really should go home, Marshall stood, stretched and pulled on his jacket.
"You sleeping here again?"
"Again?"
"Well since there was some pretty heavy celebrating last night and you were here before me I assumed you'd slept here. Wouldn't be the first time."
'Nope. Just got really behind this month. I'll head home in a while."
"Alright," he flashed her a quick smile, "Call if you need anything."
She nodded. He said this same thing every night, she'd never once taken him up on the offer, but the ritual was comforting. "Night Marshall."
As the clock rolled past nine, Mary finally gave in to the guilty voice reminding her that she hadn't seen or spoken to Raph since she'd snapped at him the night before. It wasn't his fault she was a territorial bitch.
Once again as she climbed from the car in her own driveway she paused for a moment to slip the flashy diamond ring onto the fourth finger on her left hand. She made a face at the shimmering diamonds, shook her head at her own idiocy and made her way into the house.
It was blissfully silent in her living room, the TV was off and for once there was no one sitting on the comfy end of the couch. In fact, there seemed to be no one home at all. "Hello?" she called out, her voice loud in the stillness.
When no one answered Mary had to fight off guilt again at the relief that flooded her entire being. She changed into sweats and a comfy t-shirt, grabbed a bottle of cool water from the fridge and plunked down in front of the TV. Five minutes later she was fast asleep.
***
Raphael arrived home after a night out with some of his old team mates to find Mary sound asleep on the couch, the TV playing infomercials, the remote held loosely in her hand. He smiled when he saw the diamonds glinting on her finger. He'd spent three month's salary on that ring, spent hours agonizing over which one to get and thought his choice was perfect. Mary was a difficult woman, but the fact that she wore the ring even now as she slept on the couch convinced him that she was as happy about their upcoming marriage as he was.
He wished he could forget the near-manic look in her eyes when she'd fished the ring out of his pocket and accepted his proposal. It was a look he didn't understand, didn't really want to understand. There was hope in it, desperation, fear and determination. It was the kind of look a man lost in the desert might give a mirage before he fell face first and found hat for the hundredth time there was no water, it was only sand. It was not the kind of look a man hopes to see in the eyes of his betrothed. It was not a look of love.
But Mary was a difficult woman. He had always known he couldn't expect typical reactions from her when it came to their relationship. He'd always been the one to make the first move, to push them into deeper intimacy, and she was always grateful after the fact. He knew this would be the same. She might hesitate, she had every right to hesitate, but in the end she would be happy.
Mary shifted in her sleep, tucking her head into the cushion and mumbling something incoherent. Her right hand rubbed irritably against her left pushing the ring off in the process. It landed with a thunk on floor. Mary shifted again, slipping her left hand under her cheek, sighed and was still.
Raphael picked up the ring with a chuckle and tucked it in his pocket. She would panic in the morning when it was gone he was sure, but that was a small price to pay for the fun of giving it back to her.