She should have realised something was up from the moment Jinx walked into the room, her barbs already flying. Attack was always the best form of defence, as far as her mother was concerned, and Jinx had the instincts of a Rottweiler. Marshall had once told her that it was the one character trait they shared. Mary had made him pay for that observation for weeks.

"We should set him up with a date," Jinx said, the moment Marshall had left the room.

"You set Marshall up with a date?" Mary echoed disbelievingly. "The woman who married a bank robber with a gambling addiction?"

"That's just like you, Mary, putting me down when I was just trying to help," her mother sniffed.

Count to ten, Mary thought, count slowly. "Mom, I don't think Marshall needs any help in that department," she said "And why the sudden interest in his personal life?"

"You see, that's your problem right there, Mary, you never see what's right in front of you," Jinx said. "Do you know how many times I've visited and found Marshall already here?"

"No, I don't, Mother, why don't you tell me?" Mary sighed. She could see the next three hours stretching out in front of her. It didn't look pretty.

"Every single time, Mary; there hasn't been one day when he hasn't already been here, when I arrived," She wrinkled her nose. "I mean, what is Raph supposed to think?"

Mary looked at her mother suspiciously. "I don't know, Mom, what is Raph supposed to think?"

"Coffee!" The door swung open, and Brandi trotted into the room, Peter on her heels. "And Peter found Danish – look!"

"Danish!" Mary said. Not quite chocolate, on the treat scale, but damned well nearly there.

"This is not the time to change the subject!" Jinx said.

"What subject?" Brandi said, hers eyes darting between the two of them.

The Danish halted halfway to Mary's mouth. "Mother," she said sweetly. "Why is Brandi looking so nervous?"

"I don't know what you talking about, Mary," Jinx said primly. "Stop changing the subject."

"Yeah!" Brandi said, querulously. "What she…said." By her side, Peter closed his eyes slowly.

"Hey, Peter, do you have anything else to add to this family conversation – perhaps a blank denial, followed by a nervous shifting of the feet—"

"Well, really," Jinx said. "All I suggested was maybe we could help Marshall get a date. There's no need to be so defensive—"

The door swung open again, and Raph came through, a swath of red roses in his hands. "Sorry I took so long, it took me for ever to find a parking—" Mary gave him a chilly look, and he came to screeching halt. "What?" he said. "I thought you liked roses?"

"Sure I do, when they're still in the ground," she snapped. She saw Raph's eyes slide over to Jinx, and sighed, realising where he'd got such a daft idea. "They're lovely, Raph, thank you," she said eventually. It wasn't his fault that Jinx had been telling him porkies.

"I'll just go and get a vase, shall I?" he said, and backed out of the room. Mary felt a pang of guilt, but quickly squashed it. She had more important things to deal with. Like the fact Brandi and Jinx were lying to her. The last time that happened, her house got trashed by the FBI.

Brandi scowled at her. "You know, you really give him such a hard time, and he doesn't deserve it—"

"Can it, Brandi, Raph and me are none of your business," she snapped. "However, the fact that you and Mom are obviously keeping something from me, and Peter seems to know too, makes me more than a little nervous," she said. "And you know what happens when I get a little nervous – I get tetchy."

"Well, if you think I'm just going to sit here, and take this, you've got another thing coming, Missy!" Jinx said, getting to her feet.

The door opened. "Mary," Raph said, and Mary immediately heard the worry in his voice. "I think there may be a news reporter sniffing around outside. I overheard him talking to one of the nurses, asking which room the marshal was in."

An alarm bell went off in the back of Mary's mind. "Brandy, give me your phone," she said flatly.

"But the Doctors said—"

"Just do it, Brandi," Raph said quietly.

Instinct told her to phone Marshall, but her mother's words, coupled with the fact that she knew Marshall was hip deep in a serious assignment, prompted her to ring Stan instead.

"Brandi?" he said, puzzlement showing in his voice.

"Stan, it's me," Mary said "We may have a situation at the hospital. Apparently, there's some sort of newspaper type asking questions about me."

His voice became immediately businesslike. "Description?"

Mary turned to Raph. "What did he look like?"

"Dirty blond hair, forties, around six foot tall," Raph shrugged. "He looked as if he worked out, but other than that, nothing really stood out."

"Get that, Stan?" Mary said, into the phone.

"On it," Stan said briskly "Oh, and Mary?"

"Yeah?"

"Give Brandi her phone back."

"You're the boss."

"That's not an answer—"

She slid the phone closed. "It's probably best if you all went home tonight, until this is all cleared up," she said.

"But we only just got here," Raph protested.

"I know, but we don't want to take any chances, do we?" she said, giving him a meaningful look.

"Oh. Right," he said, clearing his throat. This was one of the advantages of Raph knowing what she really did for a living.

Brandi reluctantly got to her feet. "Are you sure you'll be okay here, all by yourself?" she asked.

Something inside Mary melted, dissipating her irritation. "It's just protocol, Brandi. Don't worry about it."

"I'll get the car," Raph muttered, and Mary watched him disappear out the door, without even looking back. This was the downside of Raph knowing what she did; he now knew when she was lying.

"I'll go with you," Jinx said, with a toss of her head. Brandi rolled her eyes, and Mary pushed down the urge to laugh.

Peter got to his feet. "We'll see you tomorrow," he said quietly.

"Bring Danish," Mary joked.

They were at the door, when Brandi turned. "Oh, my phone!"

Mary smirked. "Tomorrow," she said.

Brandi folded her arms. "I'm not a complete idiot, you know; I know why they don't allow them in hospitals!"

"I promise not to phone Australia while standing next to any life support systems," Mary shot back.

"You'd better not – or you're paying the bill," Brandi grumbled.

The door closed for a final time, and Mary let her head slump back onto the pillow. Did people go crazy in hospitals? She wondered if there'd been a study done. Marshall would know.

Speaking of which…

Brandi and Jinx were up to something, and she couldn't afford to let that sort of thing slide anymore.

It was not a good situation, thought Marshall, as he looked at the young family through the rear-view mirror, and it wasn't going to get better anytime soon. The feds were not having any luck tracking down the hitman, and the longer he was at large, the less likely he would be caught. Chances were, the Butler family would be in the witness programme for life.

"How long before we reach the next hotel," John Butler asked softly, as he stroked the hair of his daughter, who had fallen asleep on his lap.

"We're nearly there," he said. He had picked one of the motels strung out on highway 66, for tonight. He'd figured the desert air might make a nice change from all the city pollution they'd been breathing in, the last few days.

Kim didn't say anything. Come to thing about it, she hadn't said anything since he'd picked them up. Shock, perhaps? Maybe he should look into getting her someone to talk to – he'd ask John about it later.

His cell phone sprang to life, and Marshall eyed the caller ID. It was Stan. He put on his ear plug. "What's up, boss?" he said.

"Just got a call from Mary; it seems there is some news guy sniffing around the hospital."

Marshall blinked. "Want me to go check it out?" he asked, wondering why Mary hadn't rung him first – and where the hell had she'd gotten her paws on a phone.

"No, we're on top of it," he said. "The reason we're calling you is that the description Mary gave us has a resemblance to the perp that's after your witnesses. It's probably nothing but…"

Marshall felt something crawl up your spine. "Got you," he said. "I'll organise some extra protection for tonight." He heard Stan sigh on the other end of phone.

"Marshall, you know what else this means, don't you?"

"No more visits to the hospital until we're sure?" Marshall asked, reluctantly.

"Relax, Marshall, it's just a precaution. It'll probably be all cleared up by the morning," Stan said.

"Let's hope so," Marshall said grimly. "See you then."

"What was that about?" John asked, as he hung up.

"Nothing, just some precautionary measures," Marshall prevaricated. "You know what they say, better safe than sorry."

"So, it's nothing we have to worry about, then?"

"Just routine," Marshall said, lying smoothly. The Butlers had enough to worry about. His phone began to ring again, and he saw Brandi's name light up the screen. Oh well, that was one mystery solved. He saw the nervous expression on John's face, in the mirror, and smiled reassuringly before answering. "Hey, Mare, how's tricks? I hear you've had a visitor?"

"Wow, would you look at that? My partner is psychic."

"Your partner has a boss who keeps them in the loop, unlike some I could say," Marshall drawled.

"Ouch, that hurt," she said. "What did he say?"

"Nothing that we can discuss, right now."

"Ah, they're still with you?" He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head.

"Just spit it out, Mare," he sighed.

"Jinx and Brandi are up to something, and I think they've dragged Peter and Raph into it, too, and they won't tell me what it is, and the last time that happened, there were felony charges involved," The words tumbled out in a rush, and Marshall let out a laugh.

"Let me guess, you want me to swing by and check if the house is still standing?"

"Would you?" The relief in her voice was almost palpable. "It's been driving me nuts."

"I'll pop by in the morning and make it look like I'm doing a bagel run – any chance there's something there you might need? It'll make the impromptu visit a bit more believable." But not much, he thought, ruefully.

"My glock?" she asked, hopefully, and Marshall rolled his eyes, the no automatically coming to his lips; then he hesitated, remembering the conversation he'd just had with Stan.

"The 27, not the 23," he said. "You still keep it in the same place? Same combination?"

"Uh, yeah," He could hear the shock in her tone. "Wow, that was a little too easy…

"Don't question it," he said. "Just be happy you're getting your own way.

"Hah, like that is going to happen," she snorted. "Do I sound like Zen girl to you?"

"Bye, Mary," he said.

"Oh, you are so holding out on me. Is this one of those 'don't tell the shot girl' scenarios? Because I've already told you what I think about those—"

Smirking, Marshal hung up on her. He was doing her a favour, really.

"Girlfriend?" John drawled, from the back.

"Nothing that simple," Marshall said dryly. "Trust me."

TBC