Albuquerque, we have a problem
Chapter 37 – Contains Scenes of Mild Peril
The day dawned bright and cold.
Marshall awoke listless and cold.
He stretched his arm blindly across the bed, searching for warmth. His roving hand was unable to locate Mary but did find the covers she had stolen from him during the night. He pulled them up and over his head, blocking out the daylight to the relief of his burgeoning headache.
His memory of the night before was startlingly clear.
He wondered where Mary had gone, but didn't want to get out of bed to find out. Instead, he tried to calculate the probability that Mary had bolted after last night but found the problem hurt his head more than the light.
He was saved from additional pain by Mary's voice from the doorway.
"How's your hangover?"
"Coming along nicely," he replied from under the covers.
"Here," she said, accompanied by the sound of a cup being placed on the bedside table.
He peeped out to see a steaming cup of coffee on the table. He weighed the benefits of acquiring the coffee against the drawback of moving and loosing the warmth of the covers. The draw of the coffee proved too strong to resist. He flipped onto his back carefully to ensure no part of him was exposed to the chill morning air and stretched out a hand for the coffee. The coffee must have sensed his need as it came to him and made contact with his hand long before his hand reached the table. He stuck his head out to see Mary's hand still attached to the cup as she handed it to him.
"I couldn't find any aspirin, but I did find acetaminophen," she said offering him two tables and sitting next to him on the bed.
He eyed the tablets warily.
"What?"
"I'm not sure what I've done to deserve this treatment..."
Mary blushed, "I can think of several things last night."
Marshall hid his grin behind his coffee cup but still didn't take the tablets.
"Don't you want them?"
Marshall shook his head.
"Why the hell not? I don't want you to be whiny all day because you have a headache and are too stubborn to take a pill."
"Shouldn't take acetaminophen with alcohol," he mumbled.
"You're not taking them with alcohol. I haven't dosed your coffee! Jesus, Marshall, when did you get so suspicious?"
"I've always been this suspicious," he chuckled, "and there's still alcohol in my system."
"Geez, you're such a boy scout!" she said.
Marshall ignored the often repeated insult.
"Come back to bed," he tempted.
"It's Wednesday."
"So? Come back to bed."
"Wednesday. The day before Thursday. Thanksgiving," she reminded him.
"Crap!" he exclaimed, jumping out of bed.
He rushed into the bathroom, coffee still in hand. Mary smirked as she watched him go, then returned to the kitchen and her own mug of coffee to prepare for their unusually busy day.
xxx
They pulled up outside Darren's motel twenty minutes later than normal. For once their lateness was Marshall's fault; he had insisted on stopping at IHOP for breakfast.
Darren opened the door to the two marshals and greeted them with a smile that increased when he saw the familiar brand name on the carry out bag.
"Oh, pancakes! To what do I owe this honour?"
"It's hangover food," Mary said.
Darren took the offered container and put it on the table, "Who's hungover?"
Mary looked puzzled but answered, "Marshall."
Darren looked at the other man as he retrieved some cutlery for the three of them, "Bad date?"
Marshall shook his head then regretted it.
"You were on a date last night?" Mary asked confused.
She had assumed he'd been drinking with Darren the night before, but Darren obviously had no knowledge of Marshall's impromptu drinking session.
"Yeah, he told me he was meeting someone," Darren wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "I didn't have to ask the spirits why he was in such a rush to leave here after that."
Marshall said nothing, just picked at his pancakes slowly, hoping his stomach would accept them.
Mary felt strangely used. He had been on a date with another woman then come home and made love to her. Perhaps betrayed was a better word. Mary stabbed her stack of pancakes angrily eliciting a questioning look from Marshall. She glared at him and returned to her breakfast.
"So...Are you two working tomorrow, or do you get the day off?" Darren asked. He didn't need to be a psychic to sense a change of topic was in order.
Marshall looked at Mary and seeing she wasn't going to answer, forced himself to speak.
"We're working. Don't worry, we're not going to forget you and let you starve," he attempted to joke.
"You know, if you could get me some supplies, I could cook something for the three of us..." Darren offered, eyeing the small kitchenette attached to the room.
"There's no need to do that..." Marshall tried to decline.
"Don't be stupid. I can't have you two miss out on Thanksgiving dinner, just because you have to babysit me! Plus it will give me something to do, it'll be fun!"
"Well, if you're sure..." Marshall accepted on their behalf, ignoring the piercing stare Mary was giving him.
xxx
"I can't believe you!" Mary growled as soon as they were out of earshot of Darren's room.
"What? What was I supposed to say? I couldn't turn him down!" Marshall defended himself, his hangover somewhat abated now he had eaten, although his headache was still raging.
"Not that, you asshole!"
"Then what?" Marshall asked over the roof of the SUV as they opened the doors.
"You going out on a date last night!" Mary told him as she slammed the door.
"Huh?"
"Don't play innocent with me, jackass!"
"I wasn't on a date last night," he insisted.
"Then where the hell were you? Who were you drinking with?"
Mary's tone and the sound of the door slamming had frayed his last nerve and made his patience evaporate.
"You know what, Mary? I'm not some witness to interrogate!" he said as he jabbed the keys into the ignition and turned them with more force than was necessary, "I don't have to tell you everything."
Mary ignored his short temper, attributing it to his hangover as they pulled out the parking lot.
"Why won't you tell me!" she demanded.
"You wouldn't like the answer," Marshall responded dully.
"Jesus, Marshall. There's no need to go all Jack Nicholson on me. I just want to know where I stand. I want to know if I'm gonna be your standby girl for when a date heads south and you're left wanting some easy action!"
Marshall jerked the steering wheel sharply, pulling the car over, ignoring the honks he got from the neighbouring cars at his sudden move.
"Is that what you think last night was about?"
"I didn't. But now I'm thinking, maybe, yeah."
Marshall shook his head, "Mare, I'd never do that to you." He ran his hands through his hair. "Do you honestly think I'm capable of that? Why would anyone be out on a date if you were waiting for them at home?"
"I don't know what to think. You won't tell me!"
"Fine! I was out with Raph."
Mary had opened her mouth to reply, expecting him to dodge the question or lie, but his answer threw her and she closed it again. Of all the things she had expected him to say, that was not one of them.
"Raphael Raph? My ex-fiancé Raph?" she felt the need to check.
"Do you know any other? Unless we're talking about the master painter of the renaissance period who supposedly died after a night of wild sex with his mistress..." he attempted to defuse the situation.
Mary glared at him and he shut up, suddenly realising now probably wasn't the time to be talking about mistresses.
"Why?" Mary asked so quietly he almost didn't hear her.
"I don't know. I went over there thinking I would...That I could...I don't know what I was thinking," he admitted. "But we started talking and ended up in a bar..."
"Did you ask him...?" Mary trailed off, not sure if she wanted to know.
"Yeah," Marshall breathed.
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from him, out the window.
Eventually, he had to ask, "Do you want to know?"
Mary sat staring out the passenger window a moment longer before pulling out her note pad and crossing something off. Marshall caught sight of the now deleted item; Raph? was all it said.
"We need to get moving," Mary said, "We're late for the Lerner's."
Marshall observed her a long while, checking she was okay before pulling out into the traffic on their way to the next witness visit of the day.
xxx
The Lerner's were Mary's newest family.
She'd picked them up the day she and Marshall had managed to get Darren back to Albuquerque in one piece and they'd been relatively trouble free since then. They'd been in witness protection for four years before being relocated to New Mexico so had been fairly quick to settle in, but didn't know the area after only a week.
Mary had offered to take Carol Lerner shopping for holiday supplies and somehow Marshall had also been volunteered.
They pulled up at the apartment complex and got out the car, still squabbling.
The security door was propped open, obviously by the woman saying goodbye to her boyfriend in her slippers, so they walked straight in and up the stairs to the second floor apartment Mary had managed to acquire for them on short notice. As they walked down the corridor they noticed the apartment door was ajar.
Instantly alert, they silently hurried the last few feet of the hallway and flanked the door, their Glocks in their hands. They listened intently at the open door, but heard no sound coming from the other side.
All thoughts of their previous argument were forgotten as they looked at each other, preparing to enter the unknown with only the other as backup.
Mary nodded, signalling her readiness and Marshall pushed the door open with his foot. Mary glanced round the corner, weapon at the ready and pulled back quickly. She nodded again to indicate her line of sight had been clear then quickly entered the apartment, trusting Marshall would follow.
They cleared each room with the speed and easy of many years of practise, regrouping in the living room when they were certain they were the only ones there. They looked round the room.
There was no sign of a break in and nothing appeared to be missing, other than the Lerners.
Marshall headed back towards the bedrooms while Mary took the kitchen.
They both returned to the living room, once again.
"Clothes and toiletries are still here," Marshall informed his partner.
"Fridge is full and..." she didn't finish as the door burst open, causing both marshals to draw their weapons again.
They were quickly holstered as they recognised Carol Lerner.
"Hey, Mary, Marshall. What's up?" Carol asked, concerned by the look on the other's faces.
"Where the hell were you?" Mary demanded, practically pouncing on the woman.
"I went down to take the trash out," Carol explained.
"What were you thinking leaving the door open?"
"I was only gone a minute..."
"Yet in that minute, anyone could have walked in!" Mary emphasised.
"Anyone did walk in," Marshall muttered with a pointed look at Mary and a small grin.
Mary shot him her now is not the time look and he subsided, content to watch Mary work.
"Carol, there are people out there who still want to hurt you. I know it's tempting to think after all this time the threat has diminished, but that's because you don't see the hate mail the FBI intercept. I do. So trust me when I say; you have to be more careful!"
Carol looked upset at the mention of hate mail.
Mary took pity on her, "Where are the girls?" she asked gently.
"Carly is next door, she's made friends with the girl there and Madison is out with her dad."
Mary nodded, "Okay, then. So, are we ready to go shopping?"
Marshall was impressed, she almost managed to sound enthusiastic.