***When in doubt, go to the source of the info. And poor Mary is hanging in there! ***
Marshall pulled up to Raph's apartment shortly before dinner time, walked to the door and pounded hard. Mary had insisted he keep the place until the wedding. Maybe it was an omen. He waited five minutes and repeated the abuse on the wooden surface. The door jerked open, Raphael took one look at Mary's angry partner and tried to shut it again. An expert at keeping doors open, Marshall maneuvered himself just so and Raph was stuck.
"What do you want, Marshall? To rub it in my face?" He looked tired, pale and drawn and Marshall was glad. Of course, Marshall was also relieved his partner had left the man alive.
"Actually, I want the story, and then I want to know where she is."
"How the hell would I know where she is? She kicked me out on Thursday and I haven't been back since." Raph was not his usual cautious self around Marshall as he added, "You're the one she tells all her secrets to…you figure out where she went."
"Listen to me carefully, Raphael," no one would mistake the malice in Marshall's voice, "no one has seen her or heard from her since you told Brandi she kicked you out Thursday afternoon. I find that very odd and it gets my brain to wondering what kind of stories get concocted when people do very stupid things and try to hide them."
"What are you trying to say, Marshall? I don't know where she is." Raphael was confused.
Marshall stared hard at the man, "Did something happen to her? Did you hurt her?" He was trying to remain calm and controlled.
"What?...Dios mio, no! You can't possibly think I could hurt her, or do something to make her disappear! I may be a stupid fool, but I'm not an idiot."
"I'm really not in the mood to beat the information out of you, Ramirez. Tell me what happened." Marshall's tone was all business, the one he used officially. He could tell Mary's ex-fiance was uncomfortable and trying to hide something. Ultimately, he knew Raphael would never physically hurt Mary, but he just didn't know the man well enough to trust him.
Raphael ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, "She caught me in bed with another woman. Game over." It was painful to admit, especially to Mary's partner. Marshall had always intimidated him and it chapped his hide to hand proof to this man that he was broken and less of a man.
Marshall closed his eyes as his heart just broke for Mary. She had defended this man vehemently only an hour before going home and had to arrive just to have it all thrown back in her face. Her value as a fiancé and as a woman stomped into the floor, made to be a fool. He knew the feeling and he ached.
"In her house?" Marshall's question was soft with disbelief, "In her bed?"
"Yeah." Raph was defensive now, and angry that he was having to explain himself to the man who somehow held the secret to Mary. "Actually, I'm surprised she even noticed. She's been especially distracted lately"
"I suppose it's because she's been burning the candle at both ends to help plan your wedding. Guess you forgot to let her in on a few details." Marshall was fuming.
Marshall's tone of voice was a warning, and Raph backed down a notch, "All I know is she left before I did…almost pulled her gun on me when I tried to explain."
"It would be interesting to know just how you would explain something like that to a woman to whom you've professed your undying love. Somehow, you had actually earned her trust and I don't think you really know what you've done." The tall Marshal's words were very even and controlled, not quite hiding the utter contempt for the man standing before him.
Tired of the dressing down, Raph threw caution to the wind, "I wouldn't have had to explain anything if she'd come home an hour later like she was supposed to."
It was the knowledge that man had planned to intentionally deceive Mary that threw Marshall's switch. He punched Raphael in the face and closed the door behind him as he stalked back to the SUV.
He knew why she hadn't called him now. The damn, stubborn woman wasn't going to take yet another chunk out of her pride and come to him admitting the very problem she had just denied. Now he just needed to find out where she went. Chances were, she'd roll back into existence tomorrow afternoon having been off on her own for a few days to get drunk and regroup. It's just that her cell was still off. If either of them were planning on being out of contact for more than twelve hours, they informed the other and made sure their witnesses had their partner's cell number as backup. Mary hadn't called him to tell him she would be unavailable and that was not like her. You are always on call when you're a WITSEC inspector.
He spent the evening visiting her normal hangouts and coming up empty. Calling the highway patrol, he made sure no accidents had been reported involving her car or anyone of her description. He just couldn't imagine she had gone too far. If he didn't hear from her or wasn't able to reach her by tomorrow morning, he was going to get Stan involved and they would start to search with earnest. Marshall slept restlessly, waking often thinking he heard Mary's voice telling him to hurry.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Mary had woken late in the night shivering, and wriggled back into the car to wrap herself in the blankets and get out of the chill night. It didn't help much, but the ceiling of the car was more insulated than lying on the cold ground. Sleep caught her again easily.
It was light out the next time she awoke, and she had little energy to rise. Nearly three days without food, and only sixteen ounces of water was taking its toll. That thought caused her to stir, though, as she was curious as to whether her water trap had worked. She checked around her more carefully this morning, not wanting to have another critter scare like yesterday, then extricated herself from the inside of the Probe painfully and slowly. Her knee was stiffer today than yesterday, and throbbed mercilessly once she started moving around, causing her to groan.
"Jesus, I feel like shit." about summed it up.
Crawling over to her little bottle, Mary held it up triumphantly as there was about two centimeters of water pooled in the bottom. She whooped with pure delight in her accomplishment, even though her rational brain told her it was not that exciting. Deciding it would be her morning treat, Mary painstakingly removed the flora from the bottle with a small stick, and slowly let the water run down her throat. It tasted absolutely awful, but it was cold and wet and she had done it herself. This little water victory gave her a lot of hope for survival for some reason, and she was ready to face another day now.
"Take that, Marshall Mann. I'm not so helpless after all you nitwit."
She needed to refill the bottle for tomorrow, and grimaced at the thought of walking down the arroyo to get the plants again, but figured earlier was better than later as her energy would only get sapped as the day went on. Back to the car for a slug of liquid sugar, Mary suddenly thought about the GPS unit in her cell phone. In order for it to be tracked, the phone had to be on. Assuming someone may start looking for her today, she thought it was Sunday, she decided to leave it on for an hour this morning, this afternoon and later tonight. Once they started looking, they would keep the locators on and her blip would show up when the phone was active. If they couldn't trace it all the way to her the first time, they'd catch her again later. Looking at the whiskey bottle, Mary seriously considered labeling it brain food…she was downright clever this morning. The phone was turned on and she saw it was nine in the morning.
By noon, Mary had refitted the water bottle trap with vegetation and walked for a ways up the road the other way to check for phone reception. Sitting on a low rock to rest her knee, she adjusted the shirt on her head that was fastened into a crude sun visor. The sunburn was already established, but she wanted to minimize any further exposure. She wondered what she'd do when back home and having to face everyone with the situation. Imagining Brandi and Jinx would be upset, Mary dreaded the tears and drama that would be focused on Raph, not her. She remembered her sister telling her she wouldn't be able to do any better than a man like Raph and wondered if that was true.
Really, what did she have to offer a good man? She was impulsive, brash, outspoken, aggressive and self centered…and those were the nice words people used to describe her. Mary could hear the real meanings in her head: crude, bitchy, rude, nasty and mean. Those were the words the kids used in school when they provoked her to fight on the playground and then tattle to the teachers that she started it. Not that she cared if she got into trouble. They never stayed in one place long enough for her to make friends or get to know the teachers, so it was easy to play the bad girl and bully her way to what she wanted. It's pretty much what she still did now, and she was uncomfortable with the realization that she had used Raph…had decided it was time for her to settle down and get married and twisted up the first guy who offered that to her even though he wasn't the one she wanted, but was probably the only one she'd get.
Marshall had said Raph didn't care to take the time to get to know the real her. Well, she didn't care enough to take the time to get to know Raph either. Why would she have thought it was a good idea to marry a man whose family members' names you didn't even know? If fact, as she tilted her head to think, she couldn't remember if he had two sisters or three.
"Wow. I truly am a selfish bitch." Mary said wryly.
Had she really ever taken the time to get to know anyone in her life? Other than her partner, she couldn't think of anyone she paid that much attention to. She supposed she knew enough about her mother and sister, but it was still surface detail and only what she needed to meet their basic needs. She didn't know how her mother felt about being sober, just knew she was. Brandi's major in school was completely unknown to her, she just knew how much the classes cost from the tuition bill. In fact, Mary was sure, the whole family existed on that level of friendship instead of kinship. Brandi was probably the most likely to bond to anyone, and that's just because she didn't remember their father leaving. Once your heart gets ripped out of your body and disappears, you never quite desire to take the time to attach it to anyone else again.
"Thanks Dad." she mumbled.
Mary wondered why her father sent her the letters. Why did he string her along like that? Why not just make it a clean break and let those you leave behind heal? It was like dangling a carrot in front of a mule to keep it moving forward. Frustrating for the mule and ultimately the goal was only beneficial to the one providing the carrot. What did he want from her? Some future favor she'd feel obligated to fulfill because he had stayed in touch? Maybe, the day she finally found him, he just didn't want her to call him a son of a bitch. She was sure he was in witness protection, especially after the story his partner in crime told. She had to laugh when she thought of the rules he was breaking by writing her those letters. Mary hoped his Marshal found out and reamed him appropriately.
Maybe she was trying to somehow atone for his sins. The little girl who thought it was her fault her daddy left was still insisting on being punished for driving him away. Denying herself happiness or success was a way to remember that pain, because forgetting it meant forgetting him. He was never allowed to fade from her memory or her heart if she stirred up those burning embers now and then, so she let that fire continue to smolder when she really should smother it. Her father's letters only reminded her to stir the ashes, and it was possibly his way of making sure she did…making sure she would remember to need him and miss him. Suddenly, that seemed sneaky and manipulative to her, and she was certainly tired of sneaky and manipulative men. She had clipped that wire on that bug thinking it had severed her connection, but she now needed to throw a bucket of water on the ashes of her past to bury it for good.
"That's it," she croaked, "I'm going to find the bastard and throw those letters at his feet. I really need to move on."
She levered herself up and limped back towards the car. It was time to climb the hill, check for life and try to communicate with the mother ship. "Jesus, now I sound like Marshall." The thought amused her as she slogged towards the hill.
*** Come on, Marshall...get your rear in gear, boy! Mary is finally seeing some internal progress. Thank you SO MUCH for the reviews! ***
