So, I have about three chapters after this one that have been to my beta and back. I just have to read through them myself and make sure that everything flows like I want it to. I have to add in a scene to the next chapter (that I haven't sent to my beta) before I send it to her, but that shouldn't take too long. All in all, things are moving at a pretty quick pace. Enjoy! And thank you to everyone who has been reading! And, as always, thank you to ladymars for being my beta.
"You look like shit," Mary commented when he walked in the door. Marshall ignored her and turned on his computer. Even Eleanor was sitting at her desk, impressively dressed like she hadn't been called in the middle of the night.
"Where's Stan? What's so important that we had to be dragged out of bed?"
"You weren't sleeping." She said it so matter-of-factly, Marshall wondered how she could possibly know.
"That's not the point. I could have been."
Mary was poised for a rebuttal, but Stan walked in, face grim, and waved them into his office. When he closed the door behind him, they both knew something was wrong.
"Nancy was found dead in her apartment tonight." There was no build-up, no informing them gently. Nancy had died, less than a week after her trial in Washington. Marshall put his hand on Mary's arm, steadying her. The color had drained from her face, all of her thoughts clearly written on her face.
"It wasn't your fault," Marshall told her softly.
"You don't know that." She managed to collect herself anyway, or at least enough to ask Stan, "How did it happen?"
"She was murdered. One shot through the back of the head, face mutilated."
"It was personal," Mary whispered, leaning forward, resting her palms on the edge of Stan's desk. "God, it was a personal hit."
"Mary." Marshall's voice was soft and he squeezed her arm gently. Her fingers were white from gripping the edge of Stan's desk so hard.
"What kind of leads do they have?"
"That's the only good news. The killer wasn't careful. Albuquerque PD found prints and are chasing the guy down as we speak."
"How…" She swallowed, trying to talk around the bump in her throat. "How was she found? How did they know she was here?"
"We're not sure yet, but I need the two of you to talk to her family, friends, acquaintances. You know the drill." He opened the door and called towards Eleanor. "Have you heard from Albuquerque PD yet?"
"They're expecting you in an hour," she called back.
"I'm going to head over there now. Give me a full update when I get back."
The two Marshals nodded. Mary stared out his office windows, watching him as he left. She didn't move, she didn't look at Marshall, she just continued to stare off into space.
"Mary," Marshall said. He shook her a little. "Mary."
She blinked, coming out of whatever trance she had been in. "Let's go call her family. Maybe we can find out what happened."
Mary retreated to the patio, in an attempt to shut everyone out, but Marshall wasn't going to let her. He followed, a cup of coffee in his hand. He was brave but not stupid. If he didn't approach her with some sort of gift, it wasn't going to end well for anyone.
She didn't even turn around when he approached, but she knew that he was there. She just didn't want to look at him. She was angry at the world and, since she had already been angry at Marshall, it just made her that much more mad at him.
"Go away," she said when he got too close. Marshall stopped but didn't go anywhere.
"You can't mope out here forever. At the very least you have to come inside and call her mother."
"I'll do it, but I don't need you around mothering me. Go away."
"I brought you some coffee. You're going to need it."
Mary finally turned to look at him and Marshall had to stop himself from comforting her when he saw the look on her face. Mary didn't want sympathy, didn't want obvious comfort. A person had to be much more covert with her. But she just looked worn out, devastated and like she had given up on everything. Maybe she had. She had lost her best friend and her witness, all in the same week. He held out the cup to her. She resisted at first but finally stretched out her arm to take it from him. He stepped closer until he was standing next to her. When she turned her gaze back to the city, he stayed where he was.
"Why are you being nice to me? Won't your girlfriend get mad?"
Marshall winced, but was glad Mary wasn't looking at him to see. He didn't know what he had been thinking, exploding at Mary like he had. Sometimes she just stretched his self-control to its brink. Having to also use that self control around Sarah ate away at the infinite patience he usually seemed to have around Mary.
But Mary was his friend, the woman he loved, his partner, and he knew she would be around a lot longer than any girlfriend. Looking at her he knew that their relationship, whatever it was, was something that was going to be around for his entire life. Marshall smiled to himself, realizing that his feelings for Mary were probably why their relationship was the only one that seemed to work in his life.
"I don't have a girlfriend to get mad."
Her head turned towards him, a surprised look on her face. "What happened to Sarah?"
"She walked out on me about an hour ago, saying that I was in love with you."
Mary choked on the coffee she was sipping, laughter erupting from her mouth. "You have got to be kidding me."
"Not in the least. She said I was in love with my partner, that I didn't know it, and that I should figure it out before I hurt another woman."
"Wow, that woman has some issues." Mary took another sip of coffee, looking mildly better than she had five minutes ago. Marshall took it as a good sign and decided to approach the subject of Nancy.
"We need to call Nancy's mother. She may have a clue as to what happened."
She didn't want to think about her witness, the witness that had followed the rules and Mary had failed to protect. It was the first time she had ever actually had a witness killed because she couldn't protect her.
"This isn't your fault," Marshall told her again. If he didn't continue to remind her, he knew she would fall apart. "We don't know the whole story yet. Let's call her family. For all we know there could have been a leak somewhere. Don't blame yourself for this."
Mary took a deep breath, drawing the early morning air into her lungs, calming her mind and nerves all at the same time. "Ok," she finally said, nodding. "Let's start calling everyone she knew." She finished off the coffee in her mug.
They walked back in and Mary went straight to her desk, Marshall following close. The phone numbers for everyone in Nancy's life were sitting on Mary's desk. Her mother, Anita Bishop, was at the top of the list. Mary picked up the phone, dialing each number slowly and deliberately. Marshall leaned against her desk. It was around six AM in Maine, where Nancy had lived and witnessed the murder. An early hour but not unheard of. Anita picked up after the third ring.
"Hello?" The woman's voice was groggy. Mary had woken her.
"Ms. Bishop?"
"Speaking."
"This is Mary Shannon from the US Marshal Service. This is about Maria."
"You know where she is?" The woman's voice was stronger, much more awake at the sound of her daughter's name. "Please, I just need to talk to her. Just once."
The woman's voice was desperate and hopeful. She wanted nothing more than to talk to her daughter. Mary grasped Marshall's hand, squeezing it not for reassurance but to keep herself grounded. She was going to lose it if she didn't have something to hang on to.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Bishop. Maria was found dead in her apartment tonight." The line was silent. Mary didn't want to imagine the look on the woman's face. Mary actually preferred the ones that cried. Crying she could handle, but this silence, this dead tragic silence, was so much more heart breaking than crying could ever be. "I'm so sorry about your loss but I need to ask you a few questions."
"Go ahead," Anita whispered.
"Had Maria contacted you at all in the past year? Have you heard anything from her?"
"No, I haven't heard from Maria since the night she called me and told me she'd witnessed a murder and that she had to disappear. I have no idea where she went or if she was even alive."
"No letters, phone calls, any contact at all?"
"No, not one word."
"Thank you, Ms. Bishop. The Marshal Service will get in contact with you about your daughter's remains."
"Thank you, Miss Shannon."
The line went dead seconds later. No goodbye, no tears, just thanking Mary for returning Nancy's body.
"Do you need to leave?"
Mary looked up at her partner and noticed she was gripping his hand so hard hers was starting to hurt. She didn't let go, just nodded her head. She couldn't be in this office right now. She had to get out. She knew there was a ton of work to be done, too many people to call and talk to, but right this second, she just had to get out of the building.
They ended up at a nearby diner, one they frequented more often than not. Mary had even let Marshall drive. She picked at her food when they got there, not really hungry but not knowing what else to do. She was tired, absolutely exhausted and she knew that her sleep would be limited over the next few days. They still had a list of people to call when she returned to the office. For now, though, she just sat, pushing the remnants of her omelet around her plate.
"How do you know it wasn't my fault?" She didn't look up at him. She knew that he could read her better than anyone and she wasn't completely sure what her face would say. So, instead, she stared at her plate.
"Because I know you, Mare. I know that you would sacrifice yourself before you ever let a witness get hurt. I've seen you do that very thing." He leaned over and forced her chin up, forced her to look at him. "You are a great Marshal and we're going to find out how this happened."
They headed back after that. The sun had risen and it made Mary realize how long she'd been awake. She was feeling it, a tiredness that went down to the bone. She forced another cup of coffee down her throat, willing herself to stay awake until they found out what happened.
Stan came back around ten in the morning, looking as disheveled as his Marshals. Mary tore herself away from the list of names on her paper. So far she was coming up with a whole lot of nothing. No one had seen hear, heard from her or knew a single thing about her disappearance. Mary was glad for the interruption. She hoped that it would give her some sort of lead.
"Did you learn anything?" Mary asked him.
"It was Jason's man. Albuquerque PD has him locked up, but he refuses to tell us how he found her. We've tried everything to get him to talk but he's more scared of Jason than he is of us."
"Why admit that he worked for Jason, but not brag about how he did it?" Marshall mused. "Usually it's the other way around."
"He didn't tell us," Stan informed his Marshals. "His prints popped up. FBI has known for some time that he's one of Jason's men."
"That makes sense." Mary rubbed her eyes, willing herself to think. They knew who but they had to figure out what went wrong. She had to know if it was her or Nancy's slipup.
"What did you two find out?"
"Not much," Mary said to him. "I called the mother and she's had no contact with her. Neither have any of her other relatives. I was about to start the list of her friends."
"Ok, keep on it." Stan retreated to his office, picking up the phone and closing his door. Mary sat down behind her desk. Amie Leets was the next name on her list. Mary remembered the name. Amie had been Nancy's best friend, the girl that she told every joke, every story. They discussed everything from boys to books. Mary knew that telling Amie about Nancy's death would be just as horrible as telling her mother.
The phone rang twice before someone picked it up. "Amie speaking."
"Amie, this is Mary Shannon from the US Marshal Service."
"How can I help you?"
"Are you close with Maria Bishop?" Mary knew she was, but it was a standard question. People didn't like it when you knew things that you weren't supposed to.
"Yes, or at least I was. She disappeared about a year back."
"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Maria was found dead in her apartment yesterday." Mary had to remind herself that it wasn't the same day anymore. She was pushing the thirty-six hour mark that she had been awake.
"Excuse me?" The words were whispered over the line.
"She was killed," Mary told her. "I am so sorry for your loss." Amie was a crier. She sobbed in heaves into the phone and Mary was almost relieved at the sound. She couldn't have held it together if she had gotten that silence again. "I know this is a hard time for you but I need you to answer a few questions."
"Y…yes, of c…course," she sobbed.
"Have you heard from Maria at all? Has she contacted you in any way over the past year?"
"I, um, haven't heard from her for about a year." She sniffed, trying to control herself. "I tried talking to her mother but, umm, she didn't know what had happened to her either."
"If you think of anything, please call me."
"Oh, there was one thing. About a month ago I got a birthday card from her. There was no return address but she had signed it."
"She sent you a birthday card?"
"Yes, is that significant?"
"I don't know yet." Mary gave Amie her number and hung up the phone. She felt a weight lift off her chest. She took a deep breath, finally feeling like she can breathe again.
"What is it?" Marshall asked her, looking over the top of his screen. "What happened?"
"She sent a birthday card."
Marshall stood up and walked over to her desk. "Who sent a birthday card?"
"Nancy. She sent her best friend a birthday card."
"When?"
"About a month ago."
"Was there a return address?"
"No, but there's a post mark."
"Of course. It would tell them where she was."
"That's why it took a month." Mary leaned back in her chair. Nancy had broken the tiniest rule and it had been the cause of her death. Jason probably had people going through Amie's mail daily. She got up and told Stan. He said he'd call Albuquerque PD.
"Go home for now," he told her. "You've been up for almost two straight days. Get some sleep."
"Stan is kicking us out," Mary told Marshall. "He told us to go home."
"You're going to ignore him aren't you?"
"I want to find the last connection. I want to know how they got a hold of her mail." Mary walked to her desk and the room started spinning.
"Woah!" Marshall grabbed Mary as she swayed. She lost her footing and slumped into Marshall. "I think it's time to go home." To be honest, he was barely staying on his own feet, but Mary had lost a witness. Losing a witness was the hardest thing to experience.
Mary nodded at him, righting herself. "I guess I can do research tomorrow." Marshall put his arm around her waist to steady her and guided her to the door. He took her keys when they reached her car and watched as she stared out the window. He knew that she wasn't asleep but she wasn't completely awake either. Now that she had figured out what happened, that she hadn't failed at her job, her subconscious didn't seem to feel the need to stay awake any longer. Her body was forcing her to sleep.
He knew Brandi and Jinx would be at her house so he headed back to his. It would be quiet and she wouldn't have to worry about anything. She could sleep as long as she needed without interruption.
She wandered over to the couch, flopping down on the soft cushions. Marshall sank down next to her. He was fairly certain that he wouldn't be getting up any time soon. The couch was warm and soft, making him realize just how exhausted he was; it was nearing six in the evening.
"I told you it wasn't your fault," he said. The room was getting dark. Neither of them got up to turn the lights on.
"Not completely," she conceded. Marshall didn't have the strength to argue semantics with her. They were quiet again, the twilight settling over them. "What happened with Sarah?"
Marshall didn't answer at first, not sure if he wanted to tell her or what she would do with the information if he did. "She was really jealous of you."
"Why of me?"
"She thought that I was in love with you. She was over here and we were lying in bed and she asked for a key to my house."
"That's kind of a big deal." She slid down further on the couch, leaning into Marshall. Her voice was groggy. "What did you say to her?"
"I said yes. It was when I said that you had my spare key that she got upset." He could feel her laughing even though he couldn't hear it. "Thanks, Mary. I broke up with a girl that I really liked and you're laughing at me."
"No, I'm laughing at the time you gave me a key because I broke your window."
"Yeah, it was hilarious." He rolled his eyes, but laughed with her. Now, looking back on it, it was rather humorous. "She stormed out after that, claiming that I loved you and didn't know it."
"Yeah, you told me that part already." There was no malice in her voice as she said it but Marshall didn't laugh, just stared off into space looking forlorn. Mary sat up, turning towards him. She took his face in-between her hands and forced him to look at her. "Hey, Marshall, it's going to be fine. If she can't accept that you're friends with me, then she probably wasn't a girl you wanted to be dating anyway. You don't date a person because of their friends. You date them in spite of it."
"You would date me even if I was friends with Paris Hilton?" He flashed a lopsided grin at her.
"Well, it would be rough, but I bet I could get over it." She leaned in close like she was going to tell him a secret. "Believe it or not, I've met your friends and I love you anyway."
He shoved her slightly, causing her to fall against the back of the couch, laughing. "You're such a jerk," he told her. She laughed in a way that made it obvious that she'd had too little sleep.
"I really need to go to bed," she told him, leaning forward to get up. "But I'll see you tomorrow. Don't worry, Marshall, everything is going to work out. Sarah wasn't the one but you'll know when you find her." Mary leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. Just as she was about to, Marshall absent mindedly turned his head. Warm lips pressed briefly against hers, surprising her.
"I… really didn't mean to do that," he told her. "I'm sorry. I really think we both need rest." He moved to get up but she stopped him. She leaned forward and kissed him again, longer this time. He let her, not being able to stop her, not wanting to stop her. This woman, this wonderful woman, who was his friend, his partner, the woman he had fallen for, was kissing him.
It took him a minute to regain his senses, to remember that this was Mary and that he didn't want to alienate her because of this. They were both tired, too tired to think clearly, and he wanted her to be sure that this was what she wanted the next time that they kissed. Will every ounce of will power he had, he pulled away from her just enough to end the kiss. He couldn't bring himself to stop touching her.
"Mary," he managed to force out. He tried again. "Mary." This time it came out a little more coherently. "We really need to get some sleep."
"I know it's been a few months, but I didn't think I had gotten that bad at it." She said it as a joke, but Marshall knew better. She thought that he didn't want to kiss her, that he didn't want her.
"That's not it," he said shaking his head.
"Oh." She was hurt, upset because she still thought Marshall was rejecting her. He shook his head, all of his usual eloquence gone. His body was so tired that trying to perform basic functions, like walking, were becoming difficult and Marshall was asking it to have a thoughtful conversation.
"That's not it either," he told her. She tried to pull away, but Marshall wouldn't let her go. "I liked it. I liked it a lot. I'm just too tired to give it the attention it needs."
He saw the corner of her mouth go up in an amused grin. "A lot, huh?"
"Don't let the compliment go to your head."
"I don't know what you're talking about." The grin was still on her face, getting goofier by the second.
"You're so tired you're grinning like an idiot. Can we please go to bed?" He stressed the word please, almost begging her to let him get some sleep. She laughed at his plea but nodded. She wasn't completely sure she'd be able to get up off the couch. Somehow she managed to pull herself to standing and walk towards Marshall's stairs. When she turned to walk up them, she noticed Marshall lying down on the couch.
"You're sleeping there?"
"I always sleep here when you stay over," he answered.
"Marshall, come upstairs and sleep in a bed. You have a queen. I'm sure there will be more than enough space for the two of us."
He raised just his head, enough to look at her standing at the other end of the hall. "You promise you'll actually let me sleep?"
Mary raised three fingers into the air. "Scout's honor."
"You were never a girl scout." He rolled to the side, using the arm of the couch to stand.
"You don't know that; I could have been."
"Being a scout would mean that you would have actually had to be nice to people." He shook his head. "I don't see it." Grasping the banister, he followed her up the stairs, slowly but surely.
"You have so little faith in my people skills."
"It's because I've seen your people skills, if you could even call them that."
It seemed to take years but eventually they both made it up the steps. Marshall handed Mary some of his pajamas and changed into some himself as she went into the bathroom. When she came out, he was already facedown on the bed, half asleep. Mary climbed in on the other side and shoved him.
"Move over, you're hogging the bed." He grunted and shoved back but moved over so that she had more room. Seconds later, they were both fast asleep, Marshall's arm draped over her.