A/N: Hello! It's been a while for this one! For those of you not familiar with the show 'In Plain Sight', please reread my author's note at the beginning of Chapter 2, it will help you with who Mary/Marshall are in this story. (Delia is another US Marshal who works in Witness Protection and appears at the top of this chapter.) ASL dialogue appears in BOLD and is set in [] at the end of the chapter. Also, just a warning, this is the DARK chapter - trigger warnings for violence and rape, rating bumped to a strong T.
"I haven't seen Grace all day – she's a student at the University, you know. And I assume that baby of hers is with the sitter, somewhere."
Delia nodded as her dark eyes scanned the empty apartment before landing back on the building manager. "Have you seen Bowen today?"
"Is that the baby?"
"Yes."
"Um, well, no. I don't usually hear him either – he's such a good boy. Grace has trained him well – I haven't had one single noise complaint against her since the day she brought him home from the hospital."
"That's odd, isn't it? I mean, all babies cry."
The wiry man in front of her scratched behind his left ear. "Not this one. Barely a peep out of him, ever. You can only hear him fussing if you stand right outside the door and listen – not that I do, mind! I respect my tenant's privacy. Scouts' honor." He held up two fingers in the boy scouts salute.
Delia gave him a sickly-sweet smile. "I'm sure you do, Mr. –"
"Slade, ma'am. Is Grace in some sort of trouble, then? I'll do all I can to help – especially if there's a reward – I mean, there's always something to be fixed around here. The money would be put to good use."
"Of course." Her smile turned frosty. "If you will excuse me, I need a few minutes, alone, to look around. I'll call if I need you-"
"You mean-" Slade waved his hand toward the hallway.
She nodded. "Step outside, please."
He grunted but complied and she followed to shut the door behind him, turning to survey the neat, empty apartment once more before dialing Stan.
"Hi, yeah, I'm here at Grace's apartment. It's empty and neat as a pin. No one's been here. I figure I'll look around to see if I find anything out of place or a clue that could help us but I'm not –" she paused and listened to her boss talk for a moment. "Outside? Now there's an idea. If he wasn't inside, maybe he was watching her." She crossed to the window by Grace's bed that looked out on the street. "I'll take a look around outside before I leave."
"Sit down and fasten your seat belt. We'll be leaving soon," Weng snarled as he shoved Grace down into the plush cushioned seat and turned aside, barking orders in Mandarin to the flight crew, who scurried to obey.
Grace swallowed and closed her eyes, praying that Weng would wait until they were airborne before he raped her – because if he didn't – if he had his way with her before the plane took off – he would know that she'd lied. One look at the stretch marks on her body and he would know that she'd had a baby – and he'd know that Bowen was his child.
She held back tears as she thought about her baby boy that she had been forced to leave outside in the elements – please God, let him have been found before now! Don't let him have spent hours and hours out in the freezing cold. As a student of criminalistic studies, she knew what extreme cold could do to the human body, especially to one still so small. Dr. Grissom had seemed like such a kind man when he was talking to their group and then when she had seen him with his wife and son, she knew that he would be a kind father to Bowen. If only he or his wife had found her baby in time. . .
"What are you thinking about, my bride-to-be?" Weng cooed, as he flopped into the seat next to her, running a hand down her face. But the sweet moment was ruined by the fact that his hand still held a knife, and the blade nicked her chin, drawing a drop of blood.
"Please," she whispered. "You have me –" she licked her lips. "I'm not going anywhere. Can't you put down the knife?"
He grinned wolfishly. "I think you still need to be taught a lesson-"
She shook her head frantically. "No, Weng, no. I won't run away again."
He chuckled darkly. "You think that's the only lesson you need to be taught? You – ruined – my – business." He tapped her chin with the blade of his knife, as he pronounced each word.
The shaking spread to the rest of her body. "No, I, my uncle- he-" the excuses poured from her lips, but fear kept her from making any sense. "Ruining your business was never my intent."
The blade dug deeper into her skin, and she stilled so that it didn't cut her again.
"I only wanted-"
"Yes?" Weng prompted when she fell silent.
"To see a bit of the world before we were married."
His eyes narrowed and then he withdrew his blade from her skin as he laughed, a dark, evil sound that made her skin crawl.
"I forget sometimes that you are still such a child, my little tea blossom. Don't you understand that by marrying me, I would have shown you the world, hmm?" He reached up and cupped her face, gently caressing her cheeks.
"I – I guess I didn't."
His caresses turned hard, and his fingers gripped her skin, leaving red marks in their wake and she gasped in pain.
"And do you now understand that you are my property and will only see and do what I allow you to?"
She gave a faint nod, the pain and pressure of his fingers causing spots to dance in front of her eyes.
"Good." Weng released her face and Grace gasped in relief, drawing in deep breaths. "Then you have learned lesson number one."
"Witness relocation?" Marshall echoed, his face a blank mask, as he kicked Mary under the table as a warning for her to stand down. "I don't see how the two of you reached that conclusion-"
Sara smiled. "We didn't stop being investigators just because we left the crime lab, Marshall. There were so many little signs – mysterious phone calls from acquaintances and the lame excuses you made up to explain them-"
"And Jim has told us about people he's arrested in the short amount of time he's been with APD and guess who they want to call? Not a lawyer – you, or your partner, Mary. And within an hour of your arrival – poof!" Gil's hands spread out in a wide explosive gesture. "They're walking out the door with you and the charges have disappeared or been dropped like they never existed-"
Marshall swallowed. "I still don't think that's conclusive evidence-"
Sara leaned across the table and took his hand in both of hers. "You missed the trips birthday party last year – you and Abby were both planning to come and, on the day, she came alone with a lame excuse that you got called to an 'emergency seminar' out of town."
He squeezed her hand. "It was an emergency, Sara."
She squeezed back before releasing his hand. "I know, Uncle Mars," she spoke softly, using the trips nickname for him. "I know that you hated to miss their birthday."
Mary crossed her arms over her chest. "So, you figured him – us – out from strange phone calls and a missed birthday party. Really?"
Gil frowned at her. "No, actually, the nail in his coffin, so to speak, came from a quite unexpected source. Does the name Ivan Sarnoff mean anything to you?"
Sara and Gil watched as both US Marshals flinched but said nothing, their faces blank.
Finally, Marshall spoke, his answer wooden and emotionless. "I'm afraid that's classified, Gris."
Gil smiled. "Of course."
Mary leaned across the table. "How do you know the name?"
Sara smirked at her husband. "She's just dying to know, isn't she?"
"She has an insatiable curiosity," Gil murmured.
"Hello!" Mary waved. "I'm still here."
Gil turned back to the blonde Marshal. "I got a phone call last year from Horatio Caine, who works in Miami as CSI. He needed my expertise in entomology and since it was the off-season, Sara encouraged me to fly out and lend a hand in the case."
"I didn't know you were still consulting on cases, Gris," Marshall interrupted.
"It would seem you're not the only one with secrets," he quipped. "Anyway, I stayed with Horatio while I was there, and we talked about many of our past cases and imagine my surprise when a US Marshal's name came up. It had stuck in Horatio's mind because the first name of the Marshal was also 'Marshall'. He thought it a most unfortunate name choice for the young man to be saddled with-"
"Wait," Marshall held up his hand. "You didn't say anything to this guy? Let on you knew me?"
Gil's breath came out in an exasperated sigh as he looked at Marshall with something akin to pity. "Do you know how long I've been in law enforcement and how many secrets I've kept – even from my wife?"
"Gilbert!"
He shot her a reassuring smile. "Not now, Dear, I meant back in the day, before we got together."
"I should hope so," she huffed.
Gil lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, caressing the skin with his thumb.
Mary cleared her throat in an attempt to refocus the couple's conversation. She was uncomfortable with the ease of their banter, their open flirtation with one another. How easily they went from talking about finding Bowen in the desert, to outing Marshall as WitSec, and then showing their love for each other in a simple touch of the hand. She snuck a glance at Marshall and saw that he was looking at them with something akin to amusement and perhaps a bit of – envy? Was it possible that he had never had this kind of relationship either – not even now with Abby? Could he still be looking for – was he still waiting for her?
Mary let that tiny bubble of hope burst, refusing to let it grow into something more. That ship had sailed long ago. She had had her chance, many of them, and Marshall was with Abby now. She had Norah – and her baby was more than enough to occupy her time.
"Your secret is safe, Marshall. I've only shared with Sara what Horatio told me and Sara had mostly figured you out by then anyway."
Sara shrugged.
"What can I say? My wife was always the more observant one –"
"Now you're just trying to earn brownie points-"
"Is it working?"
Mary cleared her throat again. "Okay, so you've figured out what we do. What does have to do with-"
Sara rolled her eyes. "Are we seriously going to have to drag this out of you one piece at a time? Bowen's mother is in the program – and she's on the run."
Grace pulled the thin sheets of the airbed up to her chin, covering her bruised and battered body, and slowly began to rock back and forth. Suddenly she was the one that needed comfort, like Bowen, but there was no one to comfort her. She was all alone, trapped like a mouse in a cage with a cat staring at her through the bars, never knowing when the next time the door would open, and the cat would play with her again.
She only knew that it would happen again – over and over for the rest of her life, however long that may be.
As soon as the plane had reached cruising altitude, Weng had grabbed her wrist, unfastened her seat belt and dragged her back to this darkened cabin. She hadn't made a sound or protested because he only would have taken more pleasure in her fear. She had been thankful for the darkness and that he didn't turn on the overhead light, saying he preferred their reunion to take place in the dark. He had left his knife behind in their seats, but he didn't need it as he abused her with his hands, nearly suffocating her at times and only bringing her around when he was nearly done.
When it was finally over and she was lying facedown on the bed, trying to catch her breath and hold in the tears, he leaned over her body, pressing his slick skin to hers, breathing the words hotly in her ear.
"Lesson number two: You are mine and will give me pleasure whenever I demand it, understand?"
She nodded weakly against the mattress, not bothering to lift her head.
She listened as he got dressed and left, barking out more instructions in Mandarin before she crawled to the top of the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. It was several minutes before she grabbed a sheet and covered her body, falling into a light doze, praying that she could get a few minutes rest before Weng returned and demanded more pleasure-
The door flew open and slammed against the wall as the overhead light came on, flooding the cabin with light. Grace groaned and shaded her eyes and the sudden brightness and then gasped as the sheet covering her body was ripped away, exposing her to the room. An angry burst of Mandarin filled the air, causing her to open her eyes, and she flinched as she met Weng's hate-filled gaze.
"So, you lied to me yet again." He waved a piece of paper at her in a clenched fist and by his anger she had good idea what it said.
"Weng, I-"
Dropping the paper on the floor, he picked her up and slammed her into the bedroom wall.
Grace gasped from the impact, even as she gripped his upper arms. "Please- I can take you to –"
She gasped again as he slammed her head into the wall. "You think I need you to find my son?"
She swallowed and tasted the blood in her mouth. "You – we can have another."
"I want my firstborn!" He snarled, slamming her head into the wall again. "Where is he?"
Stars were exploding behind her eyes and Grace knew that Weng was going to kill her this time. The only thing that mattered to her now was Bowen's safety. She had done all she could to protect him from his sadistic father – hopefully, it had been enough.
"We can neither confirm nor deny that Grace is-"
"Cut the bullshit, Mary," Sara snapped. "Only a mother in fear for herself and her baby would leave him out in the elements, praying that a good Samaritan would find him before he froze to death. And why would she leave your business card for identification?"
Gil laid his hands over Sara's on the table. "I think it's time for you both to come clean with us. I won't place the lives of my wife and children in danger – not even for an innocent baby."
Marshall's shoulders were tense. "We're really not at liberty to tell you very much, Gil. We're bound by the oath of our jobs and the sworn duty to protect our witnesses."
"So, Grace is in the program?" Sara pushed for a definitive answer.
Mary gave a tight nod.
"And there's been a – what did I hear you call it on the phone – security breach?" Sara continued.
Mary's mouth fell open in surprise. "How did you hear me over your kids?"
"Practice," Sara waved the question away.
Gil shot his wife a look of admiration even as he asked the next question. "Have you located Grace?"
Marshall shook his head. "And the longer she's missing-"
"Believe me, no one understands the statistics of missing persons better than Grissom and me. I assume it's Bowen's father she's running from – or worst case, has taken her?" Sara asked, looking between the two Marshals.
Mary's lips pursed. "We really can't talk about Grace's case-"
"Ok, fine." Sara turned her chair so that she was facing her husband, blocking out the Marshals.
Mary looked at Marshall in surprise. "Did she just freeze us out?"
He smirked. "Yep."
Sara was talking to Gil in ASL, something they did when they didn't want to wake the trips or if there were other people around who might eavesdrop on their conversation.
Sara: [Do you think Grace is running or has she been kidnapped?]
Gil: [Who knows? I just want to keep my family safe]
Sara: [I know, Love. But we need to protect Bowen too. He's just a baby-]
Gil: [With a dangerous family. I need to keep you, Cricket, Moth, and Grasshopper safe.]
Sara: [I think our kids want you to keep Bowen safe too – Ethan loves him already.]
Gil: [That's the problem – you are getting attached. We have to have some boundaries, Sara. His mother may be back for him.]
Sara: [And she may not – she may be dead. Then what?]
Gil: [We can't keep him, Sara.]
Marshall coughed and waited until Gil and Sara dropped their hands, their gaze swinging to meet his. "Look, I'm not entirely sure what the two of you were talking about –"
"Don't be modest, Doofus," Mary drawled. "Or haven't you told them you know ASL?"
"Some – I know some sign language but the two of you were going pretty fast."
Sara blushed. "So, we're busted this time?"
Marshall shrugged. "If you're worried about your kids' safety by keeping Bowen here at the house, we can find temporary housing for him until this situation is resolved."
"Situation?" Sara repeated.
Mary nodded. "Until Grace comes to collect him or-"
"You find her body."
"That's the worst case, but yes."
Sara shook her head. "I'm not turning his world upside down again – he's just starting to bond with me – I mean, get used to the Grissom chaos. We can keep him until this crisis is over, right Gil?"
There was a faint worry line on Gil's forehead that didn't go unnoticed by the US Marshals, but Gil nodded, agreeing with his wife. A short, shrill cry pierced the silence and Sara was on her feet in an instant, moving toward the bedroom to hush Bowen.
"Gil, can I ask you a question?" Marshall pulled the older man aside as Mary stepped into the living room to call Stan and give him an update.
"Sure."
"What's the code word for red light?"
"Fire ants."
Marshall shuddered. "Those creatures give me the willies because of their deadly organization."
Gil's eyebrows rose slightly. "Exactly. Why do you ask?"
"No particular reason right now – it's just, well, Mary will tell you that I'm the planner in our partnership. She's the action person – always busting in the door and shooting and asking questions later. I'm the one that sits back and makes the plans and figures out how to get us in and out safely."
"That's a very important job."
Marshall nodded "And for that I need lots of information. I asked for the codeword so that I can tell Mary and we have it – just as a safety measure – you know – just in case we need to use it. I'm hoping we won't."
Gil turned and looked down the hall, sighing as the sound of humming drifted toward them.
"Me too."
A/N: That Weng is one scary dude (shudders)! Poor Grace. At least Bowen is safe . . . for now. Please drop me a line - I love my readers and covet your reviews!