Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.
Provo Too– Chapter 8 – Shootout at the Not-So-OK Corral
The next morning Marshall's mood hadn't changed. Even sex with Abigail didn't brighten his outlook. Why didn't I call it making love? Is she faking it? His favorite coffee concoction, even the new pair of handcrafted boots he'd ordered didn't help. He's spending more time at work, but doesn't feel that he's accomplishing much. Even Delia knows to can the chatter when brings him a muffin.
It's as if he and Mary had exchanged personalities. What's wrong with me? The happier she is the crabbier he becomes. Maybe I should see Shelley. Maybe the good doctor could help. Nyah. You're just putting off calling Davey.
An hour later Marshall is rubbing his flattened ear. Next time I'll use the speakerphone. Davey had confirmed everything Mary said and provided additional information about his friend. Mary had just sat down at her desk when Marshall opens his office door. "Mary. Come in please."
She's not happy to be interrupted before she even gets settled. "Can I get coffee first Chief?"
"Of course. I wouldn't want you to be uncaffeinated." He sits at his desk and looks over the notes he made while talking to Davey. As Mary shuts the door and sits down Marshall says. "It's about Davey."
"What about Davey? I just ran a threat assessment this morning." Mary's brow furrows as she takes a sip of coffee and notices Marshall rubbing his ear. "Oh, you just talked to him."
"Yes. First I want you to know that he confirmed everything you said about his meeting with Provo. It's his friend, Provo's client, that has me concerned."
"Why? He's not our witness. Not our concern." She raises her cup to her lips but watches him.
"Usually that's true, but if Davey is right, his friend is being hounded by some men to take a warehouse job. Davey said that at first he thought they were Vinelli's gang."
"All brawn and no brain. So," she draws out the word. "You think that if Davey is with this friend the muscle will go after him too? I'll just tell Davey to stay away from him. Problem solved!" She begins to stand.
"Sit down Inspector," Marshall orders. Mary settles back. "Listen, just listen. Don't think about rebuttals and arguments."
For the sake of their former friendship, and because she can tell Marshall is worried, she listens. "Davey hung up on me."
Mary's brow wrinkles. That's a first. Davey never hangs up. She rises out of her chair. "Why didn't you say that first!" Marshall frowns his disapproval, and she sits back. "You got something else?"
"I tried calling him back but got an out of service message. We have to find him and make sure Vinelli's men don't have him."
Mary looks thoughtful. "I ran facial recognition against Sunport's video and didn't find any of Vinelli's gang. Do you think he's recruited outside muscle? Someone we don't know?"
"Could be. You and I both know there are other ways to get to Albuquerque - bus, train, automobile."
"Why can't you just say car like a normal person?" Mary mutters to her lap. She's up and at the door when she turns and apologizes. "Sorry Chief. I'll go run a check on his phone, unless you already ran a trace on the call or tracked his GPS?" When he was her partner Marshall always did the techy stuff. Not that Mary couldn't, he was just quicker.
"No, I haven't. Keep me in the loop Inspector," Marshall says watching her retreating backside. He's considering doing the check himself when his office phone rings. He'd already inquired about Vinelli and his gang.
"Chief Inspector Marshal Mann."
"I love the way you say that."
"Abs, we've got a situation. I can't talk. . . ."
"This isn't a personal call," she huffs. "One of the uniforms thinks he spotted Frantone at Mannie's on Central when he was having breakfast. Isn't he part of Vinelli's gang?"
Marshall furrows his hair with his hand. "Are you sure? Have you got video?"
Does he think she doesn't know her job? "I've requested the video but don't have it yet. As soon as it comes in I'll have the techs run it."
"Abs, this is important. I'll be right there." Abigail looks at her phone hearing dead air.
Marshall grabs his badge and gun and heads for the door. "Where are you going Chief?"
He's at the gate with Mary right behind. "ABQPD thinks they spotted Frantone." She goes to grab her Glock, but Marshall has other ideas. "No Mare. I got this. Track Davey's phone. Go find your witness."
Mary drops her hands to her side, thwarted by his logic. She trudges back to her desk and starts an investigation of her own. What if it wasn't Vinelli's gang that took Davey? What if the guys are after Davey's friend? There hasn't been a hint of Vinelli in Albuquerque.
Lucas answers on the second ring. "Mary. I thought you couldn't call when you're at work."
"This is work. Do you know where your client is?" She has no time for small talk.
"You mean Michael? The camo guy at the bar? He has an appointment with me today. Why?"
"I don't give a rat's ass if it's a breach of client attorney privilege, I need to know what he told you about the warehouse recruiters."
Lucas coughs and pauses, then capitulates. "I saw three of them myself. I'm no cop but they looked like muscle."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Can you call him now?"
"Uh sure. Call you back?"
"You have to ask?" She bites her tongue before she says dumbass and starts the trace on her witness's phone. This is bad. Davey's phone is in the industrial area with lots and lots of warehouses. She looks around the office. No Delia, no Charlie and no one else she'd trust to have her back. Her phone rings.
"Whatcha got?"
"Michael is at Cecelia's Café on Silver and 6th." Lucas tells her.
"Tell him to stay there. I'm on my way." Mary hangs up before he can ask any more questions. She's in her minivan tearing out of the parking garage before anyone realizes she's gone.
Times like these Mary misses the Mustang. Hell, she misses the Probe. The minivan's top speed is pathetic. She goes as fast as traffic allows but there's a surprise at the café - Lucas' Land Rover. "What the hell is he doing here?"
She strides into the café spotting Lucas and the man she assumes is Michael. She holds out her hand and introduces herself. "Michael? Mary Shephard," she announces quietly, leaning both hands on the table. "I'm a friend of Davey and this guy." She tilts her head toward Lucas. "When was the last time you saw Davey?"
Michael isn't annoyed by her abruptness. His face is a worried pucker. "He came by my place yesterday. He's been trying to get me in where he's working. He said he'd call today with an interview time but I haven't heard from him."
Mary inhales deeply and tosses her head back as if to clear it. "The guys that tried to recruit you - do you know where that job is? The name of the company or the location of the warehouse?"
"It's Propack Logistics. They told me they were hiring for several warehouses all Propack."
Lucas nudges her. "If we're trying to blend in here we need to order. That barista is giving me the evil eye." Mary's ignores him concentrating on her phone. She allows him to usher her into the order line. "What did you find?"
Mary doesn't even look up. "You know I can't tell you."
"Bullshit!" He hisses. "Michael is my client. I need to know if he's in trouble."
The cashier clears her throat. They order and Mary points to Lucas when it's time to pay. She pulls Lucas over to the pick up line. "I'm sure the 'recruiters' that have been hounding Michael are muscle for a local boss. The locals LEOs think he's selling guns and for some reason he wants Michael."
"Guns, hmm?" Lucas checks to see that Michael is where they left him. "I think I know why."
Mary gives him her are-you-crazy-or-do-you-have-a-crystal-ball look. "Okay, I'll bite. Why?"
"Michael was a Special Forces Weapons Sergeant. There isn't a gun in the inventory he doesn't know. This Boss could use him to make sure what he's getting aren't knock offs."
Mary presses her lips together and raises an eyebrow and shakes her head. "There is such a thing?"
"Oh yeah," Lucas assures her.
"Makes sense then." She checks her phone and starts heading out of the café.
"Hey, our coffees." Lucas shouts.
Not wanting to call any more attention to herself, Mary hisses "I've got to go."
Lucas has a cup in each hand and tips his head toward the third cup. Mary takes it figuring she'll be out of here faster if she complies. She puts the cup down and steps away. Lucas grabs her wrist. "Sit."
Mary's pissed, but complies when Lucas sits then asks, "Michael? Can I tell Mary why you came to me? It's part of her own investigation."
Michael looks her over. "You law enforcement?"
"Yeah, let's go with that." Even Mary's lukewarm assurance seems good enough.
He looks at Lucas. "If you think it will help, go ahead."
"We think those guys are after Mike, and will do whatever it takes to get him. They want him alive, so that's a plus. But they are part of a larger organization."
"So that's a minus," Michael whines. "Am I going to have to leave? I like it here. I think I could settle down here – if I can get a job."
"Look Michael," Mary leans across the table. "There's something" – she searches for a word – "time sensitive going on right now. And I won't lie to you. You are in danger. But I need to get to that warehouse ASAP."
"Oh my God. They took Davey!" Michael blurts.
Mary rears back. "How do you know?"
"After Davey left I saw a couple of guys following him. I got Maggie." A question appears on Mary's face. "my rifle" he explains, "and we talked to them. By the time we finished our 'talk' Davey was long gone. Then this morning I got a phone call. I didn't recognize the caller so let it go to voicemail. When I listened to it I thought it was a prank. The sound was garbled but it sort of sounded like Davey. That's when I called Lucas."
"You still have the voicemail?"
"Uh yeah." Michael digs for his phone.
Listening to the garbled message Mary's horrified. It's Davey. She puts all the pieces together and comes up with a threat to her witness. She starts to leave when Lucas grabs her elbow. "Where do you think you're going?"
"The warehouse." Mary's staring at the map pinpointing Propack's warehouses.
She's out the door when Lucas says, "You're not going alone."
Michael follows too. "You don't even know where you're going." Customers are trying to enter so they move to the sidewalk.
Mary hisses at Michael. Between the location of Davey's phone and the warehouses she knows exactly where she's going. "You already told me. I have the addresses." She glares at Lucas. "I can't go to this party plus one. Especially," she nods to Michael, "a civilian plus one." Why would Michael insist on coming along? Who does this guy think he is?
Michael turns to Lucas, "If you're going, I'm going. Davey is there because of me. I'm licensed, I'm carrying and I've got more firepower in the back of my car than you could requisition. We're going to that company's warehouse, right? That's where you think they took Davey?"
Mary rolls her eyes and mutters obscene names for the pair. "You can't stop us Mary, so you might as well come along. Where's your ride Mike?"
So that's how Mary, Michael and Lucas crashed the 'party' at the warehouse. Mary got Davey out in one piece. She didn't have time to question the arsenal in Michael's trunk or the flak jackets and helmets they borrowed. She and Lucas also 'borrowed' M-15s and automatic assault rifles. Lucas and Michael covered Mary and Davey as they left the warehouse. Lucas gets hit but keeps shooting even though he's limping. Michael is appalled when Mary doesn't come back for Lucas. He hoists the bleeding man onto his shoulder. Mary pushes Davey in front of her and turns back to nail the two guys shooting at them. Just as they fear they will be pinned down Albuquerque PD arrives and distracts the gunmen. In other words, all hell breaks loose.
Michael hauls Lucas out of the warehouse and down the alley. Mary gets in Michael's truck. Davey is already head down under the dashboard. "Keys?" Michael throws them to her then buckels Lucas into the back seat. "Go go go." Mary shivers when she sees the blood pouring from Lucas' head.
"Presbyterian is closest," she yells. When they arrive, she badges the ER receptionist and gets Lucas cared for before calling Marshall to let him know Davey has to be relocated.
Marshall had spent the afternoon watching the grainy security video from Mannies. The images aren't clear and facial recognition doesn't find a match. He wonders why Abigail thought it did. The guy paid with a credit card so they'll track him that way, but it will take a warrant and more time than Marshall wants. That's when his phone rings and all his plans go to hell.
Marshall gets back to the office minutes before Mary arrives dragging Davey behind her. She manhandles him into the conference room and goes to get him something to drink. She considers getting out her own bottle of whiskey for the hysterical man.
Marshall stops her. "What in the hell are you doing?" He yells then stops when he sees the blood on her shirt and pants. "Are you hurt?"
"Nyah," she gets in his face, "just a few scrapes from rescuing my witness who was kidnapped by a gun runner's gang. Davey's uninjured, in case you care," she snaps fuming over Marshall's disregard of the witness.
Marshall just stares at her. That's not the story he got from Abigail. According to Abby, Mary had busted in on a warehouse under surveillance resulting in a fire fight between the gun runners, ABQPD and Mary and two guys in ops gear.
"Delia?" Marshall calls without looking her way. He knows Delia has been following the exchange. So has everyone else in the office. "See if our guest" he points to the conference room "needs anything. Coffee, band aids, ibuprofen." He adds under his breath. "A sanity check."
"Sure thing Chief." Delia will get Davey to talk. They can compare notes later.
Marshall pushes Mary into his office and doesn't wait for her to sit before accusing her. "Did you bring two civilians into that warehouse?"
"Did I bring them?" she parrots back. "No. Did they come on their own, yes." She grunts when she sits. The flak jacket's not designed for a woman. It's tight and hot. Marshall knows it's not Marshal issue but the question of where she got it vaporizes as his eyes lock on the droplets running into her cleavage.
He pulls his gaze away and gets his big brain back online. "Who were they?" He suspects one was Lucas but if he's going to nail her for this security breach he needs names.
Instead of names, Mary explains. "Davey was missing, remember? I was meeting a source who had seen Davey last night. Lucas showed up."
"Lucas Provo? That's great, just great." Marshall wants to pace but instead fidgets with an origami crane. "Who was this 'source.'"
"Lucas's client."
"His name Mare," he yells and leans across the desk. Never has the chasm between them been wider. "I need his name."
She stands and shouts back. "Well I don't have it. We didn't have time for introductions because we were too busy dodging bullets. All I know is Lucas called him Michael."
Marshall leans back, waiting for more, but Mary doesn't volunteer any. "ABQPD reports some serious firepower in that fire fight, not all of it theirs. Were the gun smugglers dipping into their stock? How did you three manage to get out unharmed?"
Mary frowns. "We didn't." She folds her arms over her chest. "Lucas got hit. He's at Presbyterian right now. I don't know how bad. I had to get Davey here."
"So the firepower was ABQPDs?" The first men back to the police station said there was some military grade weapons involved.
"Not exactly," Mary sniggers. "There were cases of M-15s in the warehouse but we used Michael's collection." Marshall's eyebrows raise. What kind of weapons could a civilian legally own? "He was determined to tag along and he brought the party favors and a lot of bullets." Her eyes glaze over. That much firepower always makes her giddy.
Marshall is incensed that Mary is taking this FUBAR lightly. "This isn't funny Mare. Who is this guy? Another gun smuggler who got you to help wipe out his competition?"
Mary is standing taking her hair down when she stops and glares at Marshall. "Look, I don't know any more about Michael than I just told you." But she does, she remembers. "Okay I do know one more thing but I'm not supposed to know – attorney client privilege and all that. He's the guy Davey introduced to Lucas. He was being harassed by some muscle that work for the 'Boss.'"
Marshall leans back. The gun seller Abby is tracking is called Boss. He's beginning to see how this all came together. He puts his elbows on the table and runs his hands through his hair. "This is bad. I should throw the book at you for this one!"
"For what? Rescuing my witness? They were going to kill him. We pulled him out of a room full of guys with their guns all trained on him. Davey said they wanted Michael and grabbed him by mistake. They were going to shoot him. If keeping my witness alive is no longer my job then what the hell is?"
By the time she stops shouting she is breathing hard. Marshall, still seated, looks up. Her eyes are blazing. Her skin is glowing. He can smell the adrenalin. Even her hair seems on fire. She's a glorious avenging angel and he can't stop staring. This is his exotic animal, the one he can't release.
A/N: Thanks for the review Meg!