"Well, you said to contact you if I needed you. So this is me contacting you."

"Just a moment please."

Betsy heard him stomp up a staircase and shut a door.

"Betsy, what's wrong? Did you talk to Melvin?"

Betsy pushed a cigarette butt around on the sidewalk with her toe. "No, but Frank paid me another visit. At work."

The line was quiet for a few seconds. "What happened?"

Betsy blew out a breath before starting. "I was eating lunch, minding my own damn business. I sent Melvin a text. Frank shows up, steals my phone and copies down Melvin's number. Takes his gun back and leaves. Oh, and he told me to tell you "hello.""

The line was quiet again. Betsy strained her ears, listening to the background noise in an attempt to figure out what his day job was. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious.

"Melvin has a phone number?"

Betsy pinched the bridge of her nose. "Seriously? That's what you got out of that?"

"Sorry. I just wish you'd told me that. Where do you work?"

Betsy sat up a little straighter. "Why is that important?"
"Was it a place with witnesses?"

Betsy thought she heard the squeak of an office chair. "Yes...oh, what the fuck. I work at Metro-General. So yes, there were a lot of witnesses. All it looked like to them was a couple of friends having a disagreement."

Betsy could hear the vigilante exhale. "Are you a nurse?"

"No, I'm a clinical social worker. It's how I got to know Melvin. Can Frank track Melvin with his phone number?"

"I'm not sure—" he stopped abruptly, cut off by another voice in the background.

"Hey buddy, I found—"

Betsy heard the vigilante clear his throat loudly, followed by a few moments of silence.

"I'm not sure if Frank has the resources to do that. He was probably just trying to scare you."

"Well…it worked," Betsy said in a quiet voice, listening closely for any other obtrusions. Daredevil didn't acknowledge the new voice, and she thought it wise not to bring it up.

"I'll try to find Frank tonight and have a talk. In the meantime, can you get your hands on some pepper spray?"

"Are you kidding? I live in New York. I have about five cans stashed away." Betsy glanced at her watch, noting that her lunch break had been done for 20 minutes. "Not to be rude, but I have to go back to work."

"Of course. I'll let you know if I find anything."

Betsy sat for a moment before realizing that he had hung up. He didn't seem to be a huge fan of goodbyes. She pulled the phone down from her face and was stunned to see a text from Melvin's number.

I'm glad you like the dress. Can we please meet at the park at 7. I have to talk to you. Don't text back. Throwing this phone away.

M

Matt tucked the burner phone into his jacket pocket.

"So, do I wanna know who that was?" Foggy hovered in the doorway of Matt's office, where he'd been standing since accidentally interrupting the conversation.

Matt drummed his fingers on the desk. "Melvin's girlfriend. We met last night…long story."

Foggy leaned against the doorframe. "Try me."

Matt stopped drumming his fingers. "Her name is Betsy. I knew about her existence but never actually met her…Melvin told me once about a girl named Betsy that Fisk had threatened to hurt if Melvin didn't do what he asked." Matt folded his hands on the desk. "I went to Betsy's apartment to ask if she knew where Melvin was. When I got there, Frank had Betsy in a chokehold."

Foggy crossed his arms. "Jesus Christ, that guy is insane."

Matt's expression turned dark. "He absolutely lost it on a woman half his weight. I've lost it before too, but never like that." He sat still for a moment before continuing. "I told her I was on her side in this and gave her my burner phone number in case Melvin contacted her."

"So did he?" Foggy asked.

Matt shook his head. "No, she called because Frank showed up at her place of employment. He copied Melvin's phone number from her phone, took his gun back and left."

"Wait, his gun?"

Matt grimaced. "He left a gun at Betsy's apartment. I told her to keep it with her for protection, I guess he wanted it back."

Foggy dropped in the chair across from Matt's desk. "Your life is very bizarre my friend."

Matt grinned slightly. "Yeah, well…I'm sorry I roped you into this."

Foggy shook his head. "Don't be sorry, I'm the one who guilted you into telling me all of this business with Melvin." He stood up abruptly. "Speaking of Melvin, I need to tell you what I found." He walked to his office and returned with a manila folder. "It's a photo from the crime scene. You don't want to know what I bribed Mahoney with." Foggy set the photo on Matt's desk. "Can you…you know…see it?"

Matt shook his head and ran his fingers over it. "I'd only be able to sense it if it had raised edges, like a painting."

"Well then, I'll describe it for you. A grainy shot of an average sized man wearing a baseball cap and jacket walking away from the train explosion."

Matt grinned. "How interesting. The cops can't figure out who it is?"
"Correct. It's driving them crazy. And I most definitely dodged all of Brett's questions about why I was so interested in this case." Foggy put the picture back in the manila folder.

"We really don't need Brett on our backs, why don't we leave him alone for now. And by we, I mean you." Matt nodded toward Foggy, smiling.

"Fine, but I can't make any promises," Foggy said loudly, walking back to his office.

Betsy couldn't hide her grin on the walk back to her office. She was so thrilled to see Melvin again that her previous troubles seemed to dissolve. Her mind was so preoccupied with thoughts of Melvin that she almost didn't see the police detectives until she was face-to-face with one of them in front of her office door.

"Betsy Beatty?" The taller one asked.

"Uh, yes?"

"Do you have a moment to talk?"

Betsy's heart immediately began hammering in her chest.

"Yes, of course. Come on in." Betsy opened her office door and guided the detectives to a couple of chairs in front of her desk. "How can I help you?"

The shorter detective spoke first. "My name is Rob Little, this is my partner John Yeager. We know that you have a pretty close relationship with Melvin Potter. Have you heard from him lately?"

"No, I haven't. Why, has something happened?" Betsy's voice sounded thin to her own ears.

"We believe he has something to do with the train explosion that happened a couple days ago. He was seen leaving the scene and no one's heard from him since."

Betsy made an effort to maintain eye contact and not stare at the mustard stain on his otherwise clean shirt. "That's ridiculous. Melvin is not capable of such violence."

The taller detective, John, blew air through his nose. "His criminal record says otherwise."

Betsy decided that she didn't like these two men. "That was in the past and Melvin's served his time. If you'll excuse me, I have patients who are waiting for me." She stood up abruptly.

John took out his wallet and placed a business card on the table. "There's my number, should you think of anything." He nodded to his partner and the two of them left without another word.

Betsy shut the door behind them and gritted her teeth. What had Melvin gotten himself into?