Chapter 4 – Jersey Shore
Marshall was thinking quickly, assessing the information Mary gave him about Hauptner and the prisoner. She was right, people were going to be looking for them, and not the right kind of people. If FBI agents were already at the office, all their travel plans were known, including their rental car information. They had to ditch the car.
"So Bonnie, want to go on the lam with me?" She chuckled slightly at that. "I'm going to stop at the next convenience store I see. We need to each draw out the maximum amount of cash from our bank accounts. We're probably only looking at $400 between the two of us. We need to get rid of the car. There may well be road blocks on the interstates already. We can't use any credit cards after this. And we need to find a way to contact Stan. Our phones can be traced."
Mary was thinking also. After they made their cash withdrawals, she directed Marshall to the train station in Elizabeth and instructed him to park in a large downtown parking garage. The car would be found eventually, but they might get a days head start. They walked to the train station. Mary studied the rail map for the North Coast line and bought tickets to one of the little towns that dotted the Jersey shore. They rode in silence, the chattering of other passengers swirling around them. The enormity of what had happened and what they were doing, just beginning to sink in. I am running from the law I swore to uphold. She reached over and tightly grasped Marshall's hand.
"He said there was someone who really wanted to talk to me." Marshall's thumb slowly started rubbing gentle circles on her wrist.
"O'Connor." It was a statement, not a question. The name left a sour taste in his mouth.
"Do you think he just wanted to rub it in or there was another reason?" Mary wasn't sure she wanted to hear his answer.
"Well, he has an ego the size of Texas and the tenacity of a bulldog. He would want you to know that he won, that he outsmarted you. He would want you to pay for his humiliation. I think he truly believed that Brandi possessed those drugs and that you knew about it. He would want you to know to a certainty that he was the one who planned and carried out the debacle with the prisoner, that he is the one holding you responsible, that there isn't anything you can do about it. It fits in with his personality."
She soberly considered his words. "Asshole."
Marshall chuckled his agreement and laced his fingers through hers.
When they got off the train, Mary stood a moment, breathing in the salty scent of the ocean. She had missed this. It was about the only thing she missed from Jersey. Marshall gently took her hand and they started walking towards the ocean.
"Any of these places lax about ID at check-in?" he asked, scanning some of the rather seedy looking motels they were passing.
"You think I've been here before?" she asked defensively. He looked at her mildly.
"Haven't you? Isn't that why you picked this town?"
She ducked her head. She hated that he knew her so well. She pointed up about two blocks.
"Horrible garish pink place on the right. They never used to ask any questions." Marshall smiled.
"Horrible garish pink place it is then."
Nothing has changed, Mary thought as she looked around the small, depressing room. Nothing at all from when we stayed here when I was twelve. Probably even the same bedspreads. The decor was 1970's earth tones. There was a small TV and a stark, functional bathroom. They had returned from getting some supper. Marshall dropped down on the bed beside her, reached out and laced his fingers through hers.
"We have to figure out what that prisoner escape was really about, how far up the FBI involvement is and why you? I need to find an internet cafe. I have an email account set up through my ten year old nephew, which I did just for an 'in case' situation. Eleanor has the address, so I'm hoping she will send whatever information she finds on Hauptner to that email." He shrugged. "It might be safe." Mary stared at him, then scooted closer.
"Are you seriously that paranoid?" She punched him on the arm and he winced.
"God Marshall, I never even asked you what happened to you at the airport." She looked at him contritely. "Or if you're ok." He smiled down at her, rubbing his shoulder.
"Any day you're not dead is a good day. I got out of the car when I saw the prisoner wasn't restrained. Knew something was up. Two of those guys were circling around behind you. I had words with one of them. When the bullets started flying, it took me by surprise, there was no trigger for it. They all just started shooting. I don't know Mary. Ostensibly, they were shooting at the prisoner, but they couldn't all be such lousy shots could they? Either that shootout was for show, or they intended for you to accidentally get in the way. I was trying to watch you and the prisoner. I saw the second SUV pull up and then realized one of the other guys was behind me. He cocked me one to the back of the head and I hit the ground."
Mary gingerly placed her fingers on the back of his head and felt for the tender spot. Marshall winced and Mary winced too. He was going to have a goose egg back there. ''You should get some ice on that," she said softly.
They took stock of their situation. They each had their overnight bag, with one change of clothing and toiletries. They had their cell phones. Marshall had his service revolver. They had $450 in cash, between what they had on them and what they withdrew from the ATM, less the hotel, the train tickets and supper. They were fugitives from the law, or at least Mary was. How ironic. After working for the FTF she was now on the other side, just because that a-hole O'Connor couldn't let it go. They couldn't contact Stan, Eleanor or their families. Every law enforcement agency in the area would be looking for them, or her at least.
After some planning for the next day, they turned in, tacitly agreeing to share the rooms single bed. Marshall's harshly used body protested as he got undressed. He had glossed things over a bit for Mary. He was going to have some doozy bruising. Mary was turned on her side when Marshall slid in next to her. He drifted off next to her tense body beside him, hoping she could relax enough to get some sleep.
Mary woke with a start during the night. She listened intently, wondering what had startled her. All she could hear was the soothing sound of the waves crashing on the shore, Marshall must have opened the window, and the steady breathing of the man himself beside her. She took a deep, calming breath. She was surprised and distressed to discover how close to the surface her tears were. She took another deep breath. Marshall could have been killed today. What would I do without Marshall? When she had looked over and seen him lying so still on that tarmac, her heart had leapt into her throat. This would probably end both their careers. That will kill Marshall. It's all he ever wanted to be – a US Marshal. Assuming they could stay alive in order to have careers ended. They were still in danger. I believe Hauptner would shoot me as easily as arrest me. What if he hurt Marshall? Another deep breath that hitched at the end.
Marshall reached behind him and found her hand, tugged gently until she rolled onto her side behind him and brought her hand around him, pressed it against his chest. Her fingers fluttered in agitation against him. He closed his palm around her fingers to still them, drew her hand up underneath his shirt and pressed it against his bare skin. Kept it there, flattened out so she could feel the strong beat of his heart. Steady, rhythmic, reassuring. Her fingers found the small ridge of scar tissue from his bullet wound. My God, he's already been shot once in the line of duty, isn't that enough? She traced the circular scar lightly. Her thoughts were on a treadmill, going round and round. How are we going to extricate ourselves from this mess? Why am I being targeted? How in the world am I going to make this up to Marshall, dragging him into yet another aspect of the train wreck of my life?` She began to shake, as she concentrated on shoving down the sob she felt rising in her chest.
Marshall released her hand and deftly turned over, wrapped his arms gently around her and pulled her in close. Placing his mouth on her ear, he murmured in a low voice, "Just let it go. It's ok, I have you." Mary was trembling, tears rolling down her cheeks. He was warm and solid and safe.
"I don't want anything to happen to you," she whispered, her hands creeping up and twisting in his t-shirt.
She could hear the smile in his voice as he answered her. "I'm still here Mary. Nothing happened to me. Thank you for worrying about me, but just for tonight, please, let it go and relax. Let me carry the load for you. Just for tonight." He nudged his leg in between hers, in order to pull her closer to him. Realizing quickly that this new position was going to cause him problems, he trailed his hand back down her rib cage, skimmed over her buttocks and curled around her hip. He lifted her up and shifted her back slightly, so she was still close to him, but not pressed up against his groin.
Mary accepted his embrace and maneuvering, sighed, letting her mind go blank. She wouldn't think about anything but how safe Marshall felt, how nice. The angular planes of his body, his lean muscles, his long limbs. He was so lovely, so safe, so dependable. She tucked her head into his shoulder and relaxed into sleep.
When Mary woke in the morning, she was alone. She felt bereft by the loss of Marshall's warmth, the solid reassurance of his body. How did he manage to leave without her knowing? She must have been completely knackered. She tamped down a twinge of panic. A quick glance around told he her wasn't in the room. She sat up slowly and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The door opened and Marshall entered, bearing two steaming cups of coffee.
"Morning Sunshine." He really had a nice smile Mary thought. She eagerly accepted the cup of coffee from him. He sat down next to her, his leg touching hers. He took a deep drink and looked at her obliquely.
"So, game plan for today?" He waited patiently for her to respond. She studied him a moment, harshly drawing in her breath as she took in the bruises on his arm. She lightly touched the ugly blue splotches. He grasped her hand carefully and pulled back, giving a slight shake of his head. Don't.
Mary bit back her comments of outrage and concern. He didn't want them. She brought her mind back to his question. "We need to find an internet cafe. After that, we need to move on, get back on the train." Marshall nodded in agreement as he stood up and reached into his bag, drawing out a long sleeved shirt to put on over his t-shirt.
Mary quickly dressed and pulled her hair back. "OK doofus, let's see if your cloak and dagger conspiracy plan B you've got going with Eleanor works."
They trudged into the small town and located an internet cafe. Mary had bought a baseball cap earlier and wrapped her long hair up under it. Marshall quickly logged on to his nephews account and softly crowed with delight when he saw the email from Eleanor.
