Chapter 2: New Jersey Nightmares

Summary: Mary and Marshall get an unexpected welcome.

Chapter 2 – New Jersey Nightmares

They made a quick stop at Marshall's adding stuff necessary for a longer stay to their go bags . Mary had enough clothes there to make a trip to her own place unnecessary. Marshall stood behind her as she emptied 'her' drawer and said "Good thing you have clothes here. We'll barely make our flight." Mary exhaled and stood up, leaning back into Marshall. "Yeah," Mary admitted, "you were right. I'm glad I have stuff here, especially these," she said holding up a pair of fur lined boots.

With the passenger seat belt snug on her hips, Mary got her phone. "Squish?"

"What's going on?" Mary moved the phone away from her ear. The loud wailing sound could be heard throughout the truck.

"Squish, squish – I need to know what happened so I can help."

The wailing subsided and Mary listened for a few minutes."Yes, I'm coming." Marshall smirked, but returned to driving under her death glare. Knowing what she needed next, Marshall handed her their itinerary. "Our flight gets into Newark about 6 p.m." she told the distraught blonde.

"No, no. You don't need to come to the airport. We'll rent something." Brandi asked something, her sobs clearly heard in the confines of the car.

Mary was experienced with interpreting Brandi speak and replied "My partner."

"Yeah, Marshall, remember him? Yeah, yeah, Marshal Marshall." Preparing to end the call, Mary softly responded "Uh huh. You too."

Suddenly, loudly, Mary interrupted her farewell to add "Squish, squish –wait - who's handling the case? Who is the police officer, the detective you've been talking to?"

"Canon, Newark PD. Got it. "

"Hang in there, just a few hours. We'll be there," she repeated, nodding to her partner.

On the way to Sunport, Mary called the office and relayed the additional information gleaned from Brandi. She leaned her head against the seat back and closed her eyes.

Marshall's hand reached for hers. Catching a glimpse, she moved her hand to his. Mary sighed, turned to him with a sad smile and said "Thanks."

Newark Airport

Mary had irritated Marshall and most of the other passengers the entire flight by tapping. She would have walked the entire way to New Jersey, but the stewardesses wouldn't let her get up after she paced from the front bathroom to the back. After three trips, they 'requested' she sit down, and stay seated.

Marshall reviewed the file and tried to discuss it with Mary. He asked about her mother's apartment, where her sister lived, where they worked, where her mother went. Mary answered by rote, but Marshall made careful notes in the file.

Go-bags in hand, Mary and Marshall got in line for a rental car. Mary scoffed at the need for a GPS but Marshall insisted. She acquiesced because tech toys took his mind off bigger problems – Mary's problems. She didn't want to talk about it. Not yet.

Mary took the keys from the agent and headed out. This was her old stomping grounds. Not exactly the way she wanted to share this place with Marshall, but it was what it was. Once in the car and out of the garage, Mary headed for Paramus and her sister. Holding on to the 'oh shit' bar, Marshall tried to find the right wording to get Mary to acknowledge the speed limit on NJ-17.

"Mare?"

"Hmm," she grunted.

"Speed?"

"What?" she replied sharply.

"We aren't on official business," he reminded her. "Our badges won't get you out of a speeding ticket."

"Wanna bet?" she taunted with a lazy smile.

"A little cleavage, a smile and 'gee officer I was going how fast?" Marshall recited in falsetto, mocking her.

Mary smiled, a tight small smile, but a smile nevertheless. He remembered. He had seen her use almost that exact scenario to get out of a ticket just last week.

He cleared his throat and harrumphed as if making an important announcement, "There will be no display of cleavage or other usually clothed body parts when your partner is in the passenger seat."

Mary cut her eyes to the rear seat, and said "It's available, you can move any time." She did take her foot out of the gas tank.

"Marshall, Col. Fuentes – head of the state police - is a bud. And he owes me."

"Col. Fuentes?" Marshall retorted, intrigued. "You never mentioned him." Every part of Mary, past, present and future intrigued him. The dreams had given him an unprecedented insight into her character, but didn't contain a lot of details of her past. Details he was anxious to know.

"It was a long time ago,"Mary answered, looking straight ahead, not allowing the discussion to distract her from driving. After the sparse traffic of New Mexico, the congestion of Jersey required her to concentrate. "The Jersey State Police needed a help with a fugitive. I hunted fugitives. We, we . . . um. . . . traded information. Interagency cooperation, you know."

"As long as that's all you exchanged," he threatened with mock seriousness. Marshall had a difficult time imagining Mary as cooperative – to any agency.

Mary cried out "Marshall!" Without glancing his way she smacked his bicep so hard he winced and rubbed it. "Fuentes is old enough to be my father," her voice trailed off. Quietly she added "It wasn't like that."

He sighed. What's past is past. Fuentes hadn't appeared in his dreams of Mary.

"Jealous?" Mary taunted. There was no comparison between Marshall and Fuentes. While Col. Fuentes was in good shape for his age, Mary thought of him as an uncle. An uncle with useful connections.

"Yup," he admitted.

"Aaaaaw," Mary punched his arm again. "That's sweet."

"Ouch! and really?" he paused rubbing his arm. "I figured you might be mad. It's not as if I own you."

Mary slowed the car to speed limit maximum and hazarded a glance at him.

"But I do belong with you," she stated with such certainty Marshall couldn't understand how his heart stayed in his chest. "Our dreams proved it."

"And I with you,"was Marshall's heartfelt response.

" U." Mary teased.

He sang "And sometimes Y."

"Numbnuts, with you I always wonder why." Why would this gentle, thoughtful, intelligent bad ass want anything to do with her? Why had they shared those dreams?

Checking the GPS Marshall noted, "Next exit, Mare." Checking lanes and mirrors Mary started moving to the right. As she changed lanes, she noticed a black SUV moving up next to her. Too close, too fast, too damn close.

Mary yelled, "Brace," and swerved back into the lane.

"Plates," said Marshall, turning around and aiming out the rear window, the seat belt tightened around his lanky torso. Instead of his glock he held his phone, snapping several pictures, hoping one was clear enough to read the license on the car that tried to sideswipe them.

Mary slowed the car and tried to get behind the SUV. It slowed too, but traffic was too heavy to allow the maneuver to work indefinitely. Mary worked her way to the exit lane, missing the intended off ramp.

The black SUV was nowhere to be seen.

"He's ahead of us," Marshall observed, scanning the vehicles around them.

"Who in the hell would be after us in Jersey?" Mary wondered, gripping the steering wheel tightly, eyes scanning the traffic, before lighting briefly on her partner.

"And why?" added Marshall. "Any old boyfriends holding a grudge? Any fugitives you captured on the loose here?"

"No fugitives. I would have been notified." Mary replied. "You?"

"Nuh uh, no boyfriends" he replied playfully.

"There better not be," Mary muttered.

"We're not going to Brandi," Mary stated. "Find us a place." The blonde tossed her hair checking the traffic, watching for suspicious cars, especially black SUVs.

"There's a Hampton Inn in Harrison." Marshall said looking at his phone. Reaching over, he programmed the GPS.

Following the signs (and the GPS, although she would never admit it) Mary pulled into the parking lot of the motel and stopped. Marshall was on his Blackberry, texting Eleanor.

Taking her hands off the wheel and pushing the seat back to stretch her legs, Mary scanned the area and let out a huge sigh, followed by a quiet "What mother humper wants to run us off the road? Who knows we're here?"

Shaking off her worried speculation, she looked at Marshall. "Anything from Eleanor?"

Head down checking the screen, Marshall answered "Not yet."

Closing her eyes, she sighed, "Have Stan call the Newark Marshal's office. Maybe they can run the plates, give us a clue to what the hell just happened."

"Stan? Something seriously hinkey just happened on NJ-17" After explaining to Stan, he asked, "Can you connect me to the Newark marshals? Yeah, an introduction couldn't hurt."

After a minute or so, Marshall's phone clicked over and a deep baritone asked "Marshal Marshall Mann?"

"Yes, sir," Marshall answered.

"Stanley tells me you have a few questions. This is Chief Inspector John Varney, Newark Annex."

Marshall described the incident again, gave the Chief the license plate numbers and asked who might be trying to bag a couple of marshals. Their vehicle had been singled out, probably followed. Marshall racked his brain but couldn't recall when he had first seen the black SUV.

"Did you use the service's credit card?"

"No, my partner used her personal card."

The silence on the other end lengthened. Anticipating the Newark Chief's next query, Marshall volunteered, "My partner, Inspector Mary Shannon and I are here because her mother is missing. Mary's sister Brandi, reported it."

Suddenly the voice on the phone got louder. "Mary is that you?" Hearing the tone of recognition in the New Jersey Chief's voice, Marshall put the phone on speaker and held it for her.

"Yeah Chief, it's me. You seen the BOLO on my mom?"

"Can't say that I have. Shoot me the particulars. You can reach me at 973-645-2405, any time, day or night." For a tough as nails broad who claimed not to make friends, she certainly had some obliging acquaintances. "Meanwhile, I strongly suggest you keep moving."

"Thanks, we will." Mary replied and nodded for Marshall to take the phone back.

After a few more questions for the Jersey Chief, Marshall ended the call. "No one targeting marshals. Seems it's just you, Mare. You are sooo special," Marshall taunted.

"Not in a short bus way," he was quick to add.

He avoided another bicep slam because Mary was distracted. "We're down to half a tank," she observed.

"Should be a gas station a few miles down the road. Let's fill up then check in."

Mary's stomach growled protesting the inadequate airplane food. "We should fill our tanks too," suggested Marshall.

"This looks promising. Pop's homemade pies and sandwiches," said Marshall looking up from his phone. "Pie makes everything better."

Still thinking, trying to make sense out of their recent SUV encounter, Mary nodded. She pulled into a gas station with pumps close to the building, and hanging tin signs advertising fresh baked bread creaking in the cold. She shivered remembering the dream/nightmare where Marshall got shot. The old tin sign, the abandoned diner.

Marshall didn't notice her discomfort, still staring at his Blackberry. "Pies are behind us. We should double back anyway. Should I ask Eleanor to call your sister?"

Wrenching herself out of the memory of that awful dream, Mary played back Marshall's last sentence and replied, "Yeah, have her tell Brandi she needs to lead a Spartan life, and get out of the house ASAP. If she doesn't seem to understand, tell Eleanor to say Pikachu."

"Gesundhiet," Marshall replied.

Mary grumbled quiety, "She'd better remember."

"Your life in Jersey required secret passwords?" Marshall asked. He had learned a lot about Mary from their dreams, but they hadn't talked about her life in New Jersey.

Stopping the car by the pump, Mary turned off the engine and tossed the keys to Marshall. "It's a long story. I gotta pee."

With the car fully fueled and bladders and stomachs empty, they switched drivers, and headed for pie.

"We should change cars," Mary told Marshall, his hands on the wheel, but his eyes scanning.

"We'll find a rental place." Marshall directed concentrating on the traffic, scanning for cars whose route matched theirs.

Checking her Blackberry, Mary replied, "Nothin'." "But there's a Motel 6 in Kearney and it has a car rental within walking distance. We can stay there and make the switch in the morning."

"You're gonna lose your deposit," Marshall sing songed. "Call Varney when we switch and have the marshals pick this one up."

Looking up from her phone, she checked the traffic and her partner. "I need to call Brandi."

Marshall kept his eyes on the road, but listened to his partner's conversation with her traumatized sister. "Squish," she paused. "Yeah, it's me. Where are you?" Mary sighed and the crenellations on her brow relaxed. "Stay there. Don't call anyone. Hear me? No one. Stay out of sight."

"You should be scared. You have every reason to be scared. Just stay with Principal Stueber."

"Hmm?"

"Yeah, put her on."

"Joanna? Sorry to drop Brandi on you." Mary paused, "Yeah it's. . . it's complicated, but it's best if she's with you."

"Thanks. I knew you would. Please, please, make sure Brandi stays put. Don't tell anyone she's with you –not even Mark. And don't let her call anyone. ANY one," She emphasized. Take her phone if you have to. Make sure she stays in the house, out of sight."

"Brandi can fill you in. I'll see you in the morning."

After Mary hung up, Marshall inquired, "Brandi made it to the 'the Spartan lifestyle?"

"Yeah," Mary sighed. "Mrs. Stueber was principal at Paramus High when Brandi and I went there. The Spartans are the high school's mascot."

"You're friends with the principal of your old high school? Did you spend a lot of time in the principal's office?" Marshall inquired. He could see his brash blonde friend using her fists and feet to right some wrong, to defend herself, or her sister."Seems an unlikely friendship."

"Kind of like you and me Marshall," she commented quietly.

"We are stopping for dinner, a real sit down meal." Marshall commanded. He was running on fumes and he knew his partner wasn't doing much better. The adrenaline crash, when it came, wouldn't be pretty.

Marshall's eyebrow rose when she didn't complain. Hearing no response, Marshall kept his hands on the wheel and spared a glance at the woman in the passenger seat.

Sensing his gaze, Mary looked up from her clasped hands and grunted "Hmm?"

"Dinner, Mare. Food. It's been 6 hours since we ate, and airline food hardly counts."

Realizing how much it takes to keep Marshall fueled, Mary felt bad for starving him. Contrite, she acquiesced "Sure. Someplace we can sit and relax, well, at least sit."

"Whatever looks good to you," she added, lightly patting his arm.

Marshall dove for the curb outside a burger and pie place Mary hadn't even noticed.

"You had your eye on that place all along, didn't you Doofus?" she accused. Marshall smirked "Why would you think that?" He wanted to take her mind off their reason for being there, if only for a few minutes.

Marshall parked a half block down and the couple stretched their legs. Mary's thoughts circled around the conundrum of Jinx's disappearance or kidnapping. Marshall considered only Mary. He knew she was turning the situation over in her mind. Trying to see it, understand it from angle after angle. Looking for an answer. Looking for a place to start looking. He was glad she acknowledged her hunger. He knew it was difficult to persuade her to take care of her own needs. Her mind only had room for one problem. She would go till she dropped, never realizing how long it had been since she had eaten, or rested.

Dinner was passable. The pie was good. Mary even had to admit that she did feel better. Mary was wiping the last of the burger grease from her mouth with a thin paper napkin, while Marshall devoured most of her slice of pie. His own had been inhaled. They sat in a booth facing the door's glass window. The window next to their booth showed what was happening in the street outside. Suddenly Marshall saw Mary's head jerk up. She dropped the napkin, slid out of the booth and was out the door before Marshall could react.

Craning his neck, trying to follow Mary, to see what had triggered her, Marshall took a few seconds to drop some bills to cover their meal, and followed. The bell on the door tinkled merrily, but he was certain nothing happy was coming.

Marshall spotted her running in the street heading toward a black SUV. "Mare, no" he shouted. She ran on undeterred. The SUV's hood jumped up as the driver stepped on the gas and aimed for her. "Noooo," Marshall wailed. Ducking down to get a bead on the driver of the black car, Marshall drew his gun then heard a thump. He popped up, sighted his Glock at the SUV, but didn't shoot. Mary was down, her body rolling toward the curb.

Holstering his gun, he was a few steps away when he heard the thunk of her head hitting the cement curb. She came to a stop lying on her side in the leaf and dirt filled gutter. Marshall skittered to her side. Moving his hand from the bruise on her face to her carotid artery, he let out a sigh of relief at the strong pulse.