Chapter Four
As happy as Lizzy was that she got a ride home that night instead of having to make the trip in the freezing night air, the constant rush of panic that ran through her as she remembered what she had done and the danger she was in was not worth the relief of a cold nights walk home. Neither was there much consolation in the fifty bucks she had taken off Sherry. She vacillated between panic that she had just put herself in Wickham's crosshairs – made all the more dangerous for the fact that any help she would have normally have against him would become moot as soon as they found out she was helping a cop – and respite from the panic as she attempted to calm herself down and tell herself it wasn't as bad as she thought it was.
So she vouched for Darcy – Will O'Mara. So what? That didn't necessarily mean she knew he was a cop. Maybe all she would get was some flak for being dumb enough to befriend an undercover cop, and if she got that then everyone else he fooled would be in the same boat. Maybe it wasn't as bad as all that.
Then she would remember the two missing girls that were connected to Wickham and the panic cycle would start all over again.
Lizzy didn't know what was going through the detectives head, but he was just as quiet a she was; the ride back to her apartment was filled with the rumble of the car's unusually loud engine and their individual breaths. Mercifully, the ride was short. Still silent, Darcy followed her up the three flights to her apartment. She was reminded of just two nights ago when they were in the same positions. Tonight, however, she didn't stop him at the door with any playful banter; they entered without having broken their silence as she turned on some lights and he sunk into the couch. She was relieved to see Charlotte was either sleeping or not home yet so they had the freedom to speak openly.
She may not be labeled as chatty, but Lizzy rarely found herself without anything to say. She could talk to street hoods as freely as she could talk to college presidents. Here alone with a detective who was now pretending to be... what exactly? Her boyfriend? Her friend? She didn't know, and for the life of her couldn't think how to ask the questions she needed answers to.
Suddenly, Darcy broke the silence by asking her about college, her classes, and especially which math class she had taken, and when. Lizzy was momentarily confused until she remembered the cover story she had invented on the spot when Wickham had questioned their meeting. Unsatisfied at not being able to ask her own questions, but content that at least something was getting accomplished, she answered every question. They ran over their cover story many times that night; the exact day they had met, which classes they had been in together when she had invited him to the party.
"No, it was math class. You know it was math, you're just trying to trip me up to make sure I'm paying attention. Need I remind you exactly how smart I am, or how aware I am that my life is on the line just as much as yours?" Lizzy replied to one of his many inquiries with a sardonic glare.
"Point taken," Darcy, who had been doing a slow pace around the small living room this whole time, had finally sighed and sat down next to her on the couch. "I'll meet with my captain early tomorrow morning and then we'll go through the steps to get Will O'Mara on record as being in your class, in case anyone has the means or cause to check."
"So, how long will it take you to take down Wickham?" Lizzy wondered.
"Depends how fast I can get him to trust me. We also need to make sure there's no one higher than him that's just going to replace him when we take him out," Darcy replied. "Months, maybe."
"Hmm," Lizzy replied, having guessed that much.
"Listen," he sat up straight and she followed suit. "I know you're putting yourself on the line for me, and I want you to know how serious I was when I said I would protect you."
"Okay, but how will you protect me once you're ready to arrest Wickham?" Lizzy questioned.
"I have a few ideas on that, but I promise no matter what happens, I will keep you safe," Darcy said earnestly.
It might have been the fact that a six-foot-two super-hot super cop was the one promising to keep her safe, but Lizzy believed him.
"Here. My cell," Darcy took Lizzy's phone off the side table and programmed his number in it. "If you are ever in danger and you need help, call me or text me a code word to let me know you're in trouble."
"What code word?" Lizzy questioned.
"Something unusual enough that you won't accidentally use it in everyday conversation, but not so unusual that it'll tip off someone who may be listening, or reading your texts," Darcy replied, apparently leaving it up to her. She thought for a moment.
"Apricot," she decided. Her statement surprised a smile out of him and she enjoyed how it lightened his features.
"Apricot?" he questioned.
"Sure. How many times do you use Apricot in everyday conversation?" she shrugged. He seemed to think about it before shrugging with a little laugh.
"Apricot it is."
He left shortly after that, with a promise to meet up with her sometime tomorrow before he went to Wickham's garage. She sat up a little longer, even though she had an early class the next morning and would be hating life when she had to get up. She thought about what had happened that night, and what may happen in the future; what she could do to get out of it, and cursing herself for not having the courage to ask if this meant they were supposed to be a couple while he was undercover. In the end, she finally decided to at least attempt sleep and got ready for bed. Despite the knot of worry in her throat which she assumed would last as long as her fake relationship with Will O'Mara, she fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
She slept in as late as possible to be able to still make the bus and class on time. Charlotte was already gone to open the diner; she hoped her roommate didn't think she was trying to avoid her after their fight. She never held onto anger for very long and she was already over Charlotte's harsh if well-meaning words. She thought out the logistics of stopping by the diner before class, as she was want to do, but doubted she had the time. Usually, she would be up early enough to catch a ride with Charlotte, then either have Rob give her a ride to school, as she had done the day she met the detective or catch the bus.
She briefly debated calling the detective, her theoretical boyfriend, for a ride, but immediately squashed it. He had already told her he'd be spending the morning in a conference with his captain, and besides that, she was not ready to casually call up Will O'Mara and tell him to give her a ride to school. Although, if she was going to help him out with taking Wickham down- even if it's only her okay that opens the door for him, she had better be getting some perks out of it.
So it was that she bemoaned her position one minute and thinking of how to take advantage of it the next. Her swirling thoughts lasted throughout the morning and into her first class, physics. It was a two-hour class, combining lecture and lab portion, and she usually made an effort to pay attention, this being one of her more difficult classes. Also, being an early morning class that happened to be made up of younger kids, she was one of the only students to answer when the teacher made an inquiry to see if they understood the material.
She sat near the back today, her book open and a pencil hovering over a blank sheet of paper. Her thoughts were mostly focused on her predicament with Wickham and the undercover detective, but she also managed to focus enough to get the lab portion done in time before class ended.
After that she had an hour free before her next class, so she wandered over to the cafeteria to grab some breakfast. She was standing in the hot food line debating bagels and waffles when someone bumped into her from behind.
"Oh! Sorry about that," she turned to see it was a boy she recognized from her intro to computers class. "Oh hey, Elizabeth right?"
"Yeah," she replied with a smile. He sat a few seats away from her in class. He always seemed to be smiling and goofing around, and although they never really talked before he always gave her a smile and a wave in the morning. "Andrew?"
"Yeah," he kind of laughed in reply. He was kind of cute, but definitely younger than she was. He had a skater style about him, longer than average hair and clothes that were a bit oversized on him. "Sorry about hitting you like that," he added, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"
"Yeah, don't worry about it," she smiled again, shaking his hand off and covering it up by turning to move forward in the line.
She had a thing about her personal space, especially when it came to people she didn't know. It wasn't a huge issue; it was probably a habit she picked up growing up with kids who highly valued their personal space and saw any violation of that as a potential attack. Whatever reason, she believed that if you don't know someone, you should keep your damn hands to yourself. Of course, that being said, an image of the detective popped into her head and she had to admit to some exceptions to that rule.
"So how's your semester going?" he asked apparently not taking offense.
"Well so far, I guess, for being the first week. How about you?" she asked in reply, moving ever slowly towards the front of the line.
"Not too bad," he replied. "I have Martin for English," he made a face of exaggerated horror
"That's tough," she replied sympathetically. "I had her last semester, but I managed an A."
"Wow," he said, clearly impressed. "I heard Martin never gave out A's."
"Well, it wasn't easy. I suggest going to the writing center for every paper she assigns. She gives extra credit, or at least she did, and you get help with your paper," she advised.
"Sweet. I'll do that," he replied.
Finally, she was at the head of the line. She put in her order of a bagel and cream cheese and then waited for it to be toasted as Andrew put in his order of eggs, bacon, and waffles. They chit-chatted a little more, but her bagel was done in no time so she smiled at Andrew and told him she'd see him tomorrow in class, and then went to grab an orange juice and a cup of yogurt from the cold food area.
After paying for her breakfast, she headed for the back corner of the cafeteria, hoping Andrew wouldn't follow her. He wasn't a bad guy but she had too much on her mind that morning to make small talk about classes, with all the usual questions; how many semesters do you have left, where are you going after this, what do you want to do with your degree? She ate her breakfast in record time, probably setting herself up for a stomach ache later on, and then headed off to her next class.
She was still a little early, but the previous class had let out, so she made her way back to her customary seat. It was by the window near the back, a dangerous seat for being distracted, but Lizzy couldn't help being near the view. It faced the back of the school and a bit of the parking lot but was mostly of an open field with a close tree line. The agriculture club always planted a variety of plants and flowers in the field, and although it was winter and nothing was alive and the trees all were bare, something about the field felt serene to Lizzy.
She let her mind wander a bit, as she gazed upon the bit of wildlife and was only startled back into reality by someone dropping a notebook in the desk next to her. She turned to see who it was, her face surely portraying the incredulity she felt at someone choosing to sit next to her in the otherwise empty classroom. When she saw who it was, however, the look of incredulity turned into a look of surprise.
"Detective," she winced instantly, glancing around to make sure the room really was as empty as she believed. To her relief, it was. "I mean Will. What are you doing here?"
He seemed to let her unintentional blunder go but didn't answer for a moment as he arranged his worn backpack under his desk and tried to get his tall frame comfortable in the close-quartered table and chairs. She got a good look at what he was wearing, a variation of what she had seen him in before. Gray jeans and a white t-shirt this time, still underneath that beat-up leather jacket he seemed to always wear. He hadn't shaved yet either, and his stubble was on the verge of growing into a beard.
"We go to school together, remember?" he glanced around the room, though much more subtly than she had just done. "We have this class and geology together. I also have an automotive class," he added under his breath. People were just starting to trickle in. "It was hard to find one without any known associates of Wickham's who might be suspicious of my late start."
"But, why are you in two of my classes?" she wondered, flustered.
"Isn't that what couples in college do? Take classes together?" he asked curiously.
It didn't seem a rhetorical question, he looked like he generally had no idea how normal couples acted. He was out of luck if he was coming to her for the answer to that. She felt momentary relief at finally having her question of whether or not they were going to pretended to be a couple answered, but that knot of panic began to swell once more when he added, "this way I can keep an eye on you."
Keep an eye on her, because she was in danger now. Although he was keeping an eye on her in the one place she felt Wickham would never make a move to harm her… unless maybe she had a night class, or he tried to grab her on her way to or from school. Thinking about the many ways Wickham could get to her was perhaps not the wisest thing to do when trying to stave off panic. Instead, she tried to focus on the positive.
"Does this mean I get a ride to school every day?" she asked with her most charming smile. He glanced down at her and looked to be trying to not smile in return.
"Of course. I told you, I'm here to protect you" was his controlled reply.
She wanted to say something about how he needn't keep reminding her of the danger she was in but was sure he would come back with some kind of statement on how she shouldn't forget to always be on guard. Good advice, especially considering her slip up just a few minutes ago. They were silent for a few more minutes as the rest of the class filled the room before he broke it once more.
"Speaking of a late start, I wasn't able to get my book yet," he pulled her open book so it slid between them and flashed his own charming smile back at her. "Mind if we share, sweetheart?"
She knew it was an act, one that she would have to get used to, but that knowledge didn't help her pulse from beating a little faster when he turned on the boyfriend mode. She pushed any happy thoughts of him aside and feigned annoyance instead.
"No pet names."
He smiled again. "You got it, sweetheart." Before she could reply, class started.
It was her last class of the day, and his. He offered her a ride home, or to Charlotte's. As pathetic as she was aware it was, she wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet. They had spent an hour in each other company but hadn't had a chance to really talk.
"Why don't we head to the library instead? We can get started on homework," she held up the book. "And, talk," she added with a more significant look.
"Raincheck," he said leading her out of class with a hand on her back. "I have to meet Wickham this afternoon."
"Right," she replied, disappointed.
They were both silent until they got to his car. Instead of the black sedan, she had seen that first day they met and last night, he was driving a blue Audi that had a few years under its belt and looked a little worse for wear.
"Where'd you get the car?" she asked once they were both safely inside and couldn't be overheard.
"How do you know it's not mine?" he asked with a curious look.
"It just doesn't seem like a car you would drive," she shrugged. He processed that for a moment before answering.
"My cousin let me borrow it. We switched," he replied simply. The mention of a cousin intrigued her, but she had a more pressing question.
"Do you actually know anything about fixing cars?" she wondered, noticing his slight wince and fearing the worst.
"A fair amount. There was always a possibility of going undercover; we just never had the opportunity until now," he glanced at her, then back at the road.
Should she feel proud that she was responsible for him finally having an opportunity to go undercover? It seemed like such a little thing, but the impact of her reckless decision last night seemed to have opened the door or him.
"I studied up when I could get the chance."
She wanted to question him further on exactly how much was 'a fair amount' and if he thought it would be enough to get a job at Wickham's garage, something that she knew he was counting on. She held back, understanding that if he was worried about it then questioning him on his abilities would probably only cause him more stress. His meeting was today and there was nothing that could be done to further prepare him in the next half hour or so. Or was there?
"Wickham doesn't like anyone who thinks or acts like he's superior to him," she commented.
He glanced at her once more before returning his eye to the road. She took that as a sign of his interest and thought further of what she knew.
"He likes to think he's some kind of genius, and I have to admit he's smarter than the average drug dealer, but he mostly likes to spout off facts he's memorized to impress the underlings, so I would advise you never correct him, or let him know you already knew that… I don't know, that the left temporal lobe controls speech."
"Someone was paying attention in class today," Will smiled.
"I'm trying to help here," she huffed at him.
"I know, I'm sorry," he said with a guilty look on his face. "Please, continue."
"I don't know him that well, but I do hear stories of people he's cut off. He rarely gives people second chances once they've disappointed him. Rob's pretty close to him, and he mostly sucks up, but he also makes himself useful by taking initiative. I get the feeling Wickham likes the attention and the lifestyle, but not necessarily the trouble of actually running the chop shop and selling drugs. You'll be useful to him more in school, where he's been trying to get a source to sell," Lizzy informed him.
He glanced at her again once she had finished.
"I thought you didn't know him that well," he commented. There was no suspicion or accusation in his tone, just curiosity.
"I don't," Lizzy automatically replied. Then she thought of all she had said. "Well, I guess I know him better than I thought I did. I guess I've noticed more than I thought I did."
"I appreciate the help," he said as he pulled up to Charlotte's diner. "I'll give you a call after, to let you know how it goes."
"Okay," she said, nervous for him.
She didn't know why; if this meeting didn't go well, it was unlikely that anything bad would happen to them unless he found out somehow that Darcy was a cop. If anything, she should be hoping that it did go badly and that Wickham wasn't impressed with him, so that this little charade of theirs could end and she could go back to worrying about picking a major in college or which university she should attend rather than if her pretend cop boyfriend gets found out and she gets labeled as a narc.
Still, she couldn't help in being sincere when she told him, "Good luck."
"Thanks," he gave her a confident smile.
She was reminded of JJ; two men she had shown interest in and they were both too cocky for their own good, in her opinion. Both dangerous, in their own ways, and both breathed alpha male. She should examine her ideal love interests closer, but as she was want to do, she shoved it aside for another day, collected her messenger bag, and exited the car.
"Text me when you leave. I'll try to wrap it up so I have time to give you a ride home. I don't like the idea of you walking the streets alone," he rolled his window down to tell her.
Her heart fluttered at his attention before she reminded herself that it was literally his job to care about her safety since she had stuck her head out for him.
"Alright. I'll hang out and take my time, maybe do my homework," she shrugged. He lifted a hand to wave goodbye, and she headed into the diner.