Mark knew that Verity had hardly slept. She'd been tossing and turning, despite Mark assuring her that they were perfectly safe in the apartment. She'd watched him lock the doors and windows, loitering in the doorways with her arms folded and a nervous expression on her face. Mark had dragged her to bed, his hand holding onto hers as he promised her that they'd be fine. She'd laid down beside him and he'd turned the light out, but he'd spent most of the night with his eyes closed, listening to Verity roll around in the sheets. He must have dozed off for a few hours because when he woke it was morning, the light streaming in through the gaps of the curtains.
Verity was sat at the end of the bed, legs tucked into her chest. Mark blinked the sleep out of his eyes and slowly sat up, pushing himself to rest against the headboard. His grey tee he wore to bed was crumpled and his hair stuck up at different angles. He let out a deep breath and spoke, voice hoarse in the early morning.
"Ver," he called her name. "What're you doing?"
"I couldn't sleep," Verity said, still facing away from him. His eyes scanned over her back. The grey sweatshirt she'd stolen from him dwarfed her frame and her curls hung messily down her back.
"I sensed that," Mark said to her and moved his limbs into an awkward position so that he was right behind her, arm moving around her shoulders. She leaned into him and he kissed her on the side of her head, well aware that he had morning breath. "I'm going to run by the lab this morning and see if there's any prints."
"Do you think I should go to my parents?" Verity asked him but Mark shook his head. Truth be told, he didn't want her anywhere near her parents knowing what he knew about them. He had no idea what poison they might whisper into her ear. He knew she would never go back to them after what they had done, but whenever they were around all they did was upset her.
"No," Mark urged from her. "Let's just get these to the lab and then we can go from there, alright?"
"Can I come with you?" Verity asked from him and Mark nodded his head as he felt her lean in closer to him. She closed her eyes and moved her hand to Mark's thigh, holding onto it in her grip and closing her eyes.
"Yeah," Mark said to her with a nod. "Come on. Let's get dressed and run by the lab…then we can grab breakfast…maybe go for a walk?"
Verity nodded eagerly at that. She wanted to get out of the apartment. Mark kissed her once more on the side of the head before she slipped from his grip and went to the bathroom. Mark listened as she started the shower and he gave her some space, heading into the kitchen and reaching for the fridge. Opening it up, he reached for a bottle of orange juice and poured himself a glass. Draining it, he looked to the letter that sat on the edge of the worktop in a clear bag. Mark had insisted they leave it, claiming that it would be tainted if they kept on looking at it. He suspected that they wouldn't find any useful prints. If it had been through the mail system then it would be covered in prints. There might be some on the photos inside, but he wasn't holding out hope.
He knew that there were some people who had it in for them. Verity, he knew, was innocent. She had somehow found herself in situations that she never wanted to be a part of. Mark wasn't entirely certain who would do this, but he had his suspicions. He didn't want to say to Verity that her parents were a likely suspect considering how intent they were to split them up. This would almost be a perfect way to do it. They would drive Verity away from Mark out of fear. If she thought that someone was after them then she might think it best they split up. But Mark wasn't going to have that.
"Mark!"
Verity called his name from the hallway. He downed the rest of his orange juice and left the glass in the sink, padding barefoot back into the hall. "Yeah?" he called back.
She was stood with a towel around her, hair wet and hanging in clumps down her back. She clung onto the towel underneath her arms. "Did you hear that noise?"
"What noise?" Mark asked. Truth be told, he'd been in his own little world in the kitchen.
"It sounded like a knock on the door," Verity said.
Mark shook his head and walked towards her. "I didn't hear anything, Ver," Mark assured her.
"I swear I heard a knock on the door," Verity said and Mark looked to the apartment's main door. His brows knitted together and he wondered exactly what was going on. He moved towards it, but Verity grabbed hold of his arm to stop him in his tracks. He turned to look down to her, reaching his hand up and holding her cheek softly.
"It'll probably have just been someone from another apartment," Mark promised her. "But I'll check, okay?"
Verity nodded and Mark brushed a strand of wet hair behind her ear. Moving towards the door, he turned the handle and the wood pulled open easily. There was no one stood there. Mark looked left and right around the corridor, Verity moving to stand behind him and peering over his shoulder, her fingers clinging onto his forearm.
"What the…" Verity stammered, unable to finish her sentence.
Mark wondered what she had seen before he saw it when he looked down.
It was a dead rat.
…
"And you didn't see anyone outside?"
Mark had no idea how long they were going to be in the precinct. He had insisted Verity dressed quickly and he had forgone his shower. She'd tugged on a pair of jeans and a green jumper. She had tied her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck, not bothering to dry it. Mark had tugged on his own navy sweater and a pair of jeans, grabbing his police badge and car keys. He'd driven through the traffic with Verity silently beside him, her leg nervously bouncing up and down. He'd reached for her hand as they hit a red light and looked over to her, nodding sternly and silently promising her that everything was going to be alright.
Once inside the precinct, he'd found Eric working the weekend shift and had gone to him, carrying the plastic bag with the letter and the box he'd put the dead rat in. Eric had fast tracked their case and Mark suspected it was because of who he was. That was how he found himself in an interview room with Verity next to him.
"Verity said she heard a knock on the door, but by the time we got there, whoever it was had gone," Mark answered. There were two polystyrene cups of coffee in front of them. Verity had hardly touched hers while Mark had continued sipping on his, used to the taste of instant coffee. "The picture came yesterday. I was going to bring it in today."
"And you have no idea who it was?" Eric asked.
He knew that he had to work this case. He considered Mark a friend and he wasn't going to pass this off to anyone else.
"I mean…there's people who aren't exactly thrilled with us," Mark confessed and Verity looked down to her lap and shook her head.
"It's not them," Verity said in a small voice.
"Ver, it could be," Mark said and she looked towards him, her head shaking back and forth forcefully.
"They want to split us up, but they wouldn't do this," Verity said to him. He knew they were talking about her parents, but Eric had to confess that he was in the dark. He just let the two of them continue with their conversation, suspecting that they would fill him in or he would catch on at some point. "I'm still their daughter, Mark."
"Your father struck you, Ver," Mark reminded her and her cheeks turned red and, despite knowing the bruise on her cheek had gone, she still felt a tingling there. "He offered me money to break up with you. Do you think that he's not above doing this? If they have you scared…thinking that someone has it out for us…then that might be enough to break us up because you're scared of being together."
"I know that my parents have done some despicable things," she promised Mark on that point. "But this is too far."
"Your parents have been trying to split you two up?" Eric interjected at this point and Mark looked to him. He preferred to keep his private life just that, but he knew that things were going to come out now. He had to be honest and tell the truth. He closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose and nodding his head.
"They're not thrilled that Verity is dating me," he admitted.
"Why is that?" Eric asked, picking his pen back up from it laid on the open notebook.
Verity shook her head firmly. She wasn't thrilled with where this was going. "It's not them."
"No offence, Miss Daniels, but anything could be relevant," Eric said to her. Verity looked to him and folded her arms over her chest. Mark shrugged his shoulders.
"Why are you trying to protect them?" he questioned from her.
"I'm not trying to protect them," she retorted.
"They've done nothing but make your life a living hell," Mark said to her. "Why do you think they would stop now?"
"Because they know that we're finished," Verity said to Mark. "They know that I'm not breaking up with you and that I'm not going back to them, no matter what they do. If they think scaring me is going to achieve that then they're naïve and the one thing my parents aren't is naïve, Mark."
"Alright," Eric said, trying to move the conversation along. "Then who else could it be?"
"You know about what happened with Derek Jacobson, right?" Mark and Verity let out another deep sigh. Mark's eyes flickered to her and he felt a sense of annoyance. "What now?" he questioned from her.
"Derek Jacobson is going on trial. Wouldn't it be stupid for him to do this?"
"He's standing trial for a crime he thinks we dobbed him in for," Mark retorted to her and Verity shook her head slowly.
"I just don't think he's stupid enough to do this," Verity said to him and Mark ground his teeth together, feeling a sense of annoyance take hold of him. He knew that he shouldn't be angry with her, but he was only trying to think logically. He was trying to think of who would want revenge on them. "You saw how he was the last time we saw him. He was broken."
"A broken man will do anything when they feel desperate," Mark said.
"That's true," Eric backed him up, sensing some tension between the two of them. "But we need to ask what he would hope to achieve by doing this? If it comes to light that it is him then we have him on more charges…it reflects badly on his case…and even if it didn't…it's too late for him. It's not like you're involved in his fraud case, is it? You're not testifying. You're not involved."
"That's the thing," Verity said, holding her arm out. "We're not involved in any of this. He doesn't gain anything by doing this."
"And his wife and son?"
"Are in the Hamptons because it's the only house they have left that hasn't been seized," Eric answered. "We might not be involved in the case, but I do read the newspapers occasionally. They're holed up there."
"So we're out of suspects," Mark said, frustrated. "Can you not ask where Dorothy and John Daniels have been in the past twenty-four hours?"
"I can have an officer go and speak to them," Eric said with a nod of his head.
"Seriously?" Verity snapped and Mark knew that she was on edge. "It's not my parents."
"Then we can rule them out," Mark replied.
Verity turned her gaze away from him. Eric stood up from the seat, smoothing down the tie he wore against his shirt. He closed his notebook and grabbed his own cup of coffee. "I'll try and get the lab to hurry up with the results. In the meantime, I'll send an officer to your apartment block to see if any of the residents saw anyone this morning…and I'll send one to Mr and Mrs Daniels and see if they can help."
"Thanks, Eric," Mark said gratefully.
"You guys feel free to stay here…I'll be back soon," Eric said and he left them alone in the interview room.
The only noise came from the tickling clock for a few seconds. Mark stood up from the seat, hands going to his hips. "You going to ignore me?" he questioned from her.
"It's not my parents," Verity simply said to him.
Mark chuckled darkly and Verity turned her glare to him.
"What's so funny?" she demanded from him.
"After everything they've done, you're still defending them," Mark said to her and she stood up, arms folding over her chest as she paced the room. "I'm not saying it is them, Ver, but I am saying that it is possible. They might want to make it so that you see how dangerous it can be dating a cop…because this stuff can happen…people do come after us when we arrest them or bust them for something…and that can ruin relationships. It can destroy couples."
"I just don't want to think that they would do something like this," Verity retorted, her voice firm on the matter. She didn't want to argue with Mark, but she sensed that this was where that was going. "I know what they've done and I know that they're horrible, but they're still my parents. Doing this…it feels like a line has been crossed that I don't think they would cross."
Mark scoffed once more. "And you think they didn't cross a line when they offered me money?" he asked from her.
"Money is something that solves all of their problems. It's clean. It's the answer to everything. It's all they know and all they think that people respond to," Verity snapped back, struggling to stop herself from feeling a sense of anger bubble up inside at Mark's reluctance to let this go. "This is not something they would do or even understand how to do."
"Christ, even after everything you defend them!" Mark snapped at her, arms flapping by her side. "I'm trying to find out who it is, Verity. I am trying to think logically so that we can get to the bottom of this and you just end up contradicting everything I say. I'm an officer. This is my job. You think you know better than me?"
Verity rolled her eyes. "I am just trying to help."
"But you're not!" Mark yelled again and Verity only hoped that no one was listening to them. "You're not offering any other solution…just disagreeing with me at every turn. Do you not want whoever did this to be found, is that it? Are you so scared that it might be your parents that you're trying to cover?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Verity snarled at him. "You think I want this?"
"I don't know. Trouble does seem to follow you, doesn't it?" Mark said and he knew that he had gone too far as soon as he'd said it. Shaking his head back and forth, he quickly tried to tell her that he didn't mean it. "Ver, I-"
"-Don't," she demanded from him, holding a hand up.
"I didn't mean it."
"You still said it," she responded. "I'm going to go."
"Where?" Mark asked as she reached for her satchel that she'd left in the corner of the room. She ignored him. "Where are you going, Ver?"
"I'm going to go home, pack a bag and go to Janet's," Verity finally answered him, draping the bag over her body. "I don't want to stay in the apartment while this is happening. You can come with me or you can stay there…might be best if you're not with me though, right? Because I attract trouble?"
"Don't be like that," Mark complained in a low drawl.
"You said it," she responded.
"I was angry," Mark said. "I was angry because here I am trying to help and solve this and all you can do is criticise everything I say. You might have been trying to help, but that's not what you're doing."
"Still doesn't excuse what you said," Verity retorted.
"And I'm sorry for what I said, alright? I didn't mean it. I know you don't want any of this. I know you never asked for any of this. I know that, alright? I am sorry…but you…you're not the expert here, Ver."
"Well, fuck me for trying to help," Verity responded and she headed towards the door. Mark moved his hands to the back of his head and he knew that he should have kept quiet, but he couldn't help himself. He was still angry and he knew he had a mean side when he was angry. He knew it was there and he tried to keep it hidden.
"You can't go."
"Am I under arrest?"
"You know you're fucking not," he growled lowly.
"Then I'm going to Janet's," Verity simply said to him and he let her leave, tossing a chair off to the side once the door had closed behind her and swearing loudly into the cold room.
…
Verity had taken the subway back to the apartment. She was going to quickly go and grab a bag, pack some clothes and then go to Janet's. She was angry with Mark. She was angry with how he belittled her when all she was trying to do was make him see reason. She knew he hated her parents, but that didn't mean they were the people who had done this. She had been silently seething the entire journey home.
Taking the steps up to the apartment, she unlocked the door and headed straight to the bedroom. She wasted no time in packing her weekend bag, putting in clean clothes and underwear and then grabbing some toiletries from the bathroom. It was only as she stormed across the hall to the bathroom did she heard the squeaking noise from down the hallway. She froze, arms full of bottles of toiletries as her head snapped to the side and she looked down towards the living area.
Her breathing came out in short, sharp pants as she kept her gaze trained there. She thought that she might have been imagining things, but then there was another squeak of the floorboard. There was someone in the apartment, she was sure of it.
Stepping backwards towards the apartment door, Verity tried to keep quiet. Whoever it was, they might know she was there. She tried to be as quiet as possible, but the footsteps at the other end of the hallway grew louder. Verity froze as a tall figure stood in the doorway, dressed in all black with a balaclava covering the face, a ball of rope in one hand and a knife in the other. The masked man tilted his head to one side and Verity could only make out a slit of an eye from beneath the mask.
Dropping the toiletries to the floor, she moved quickly towards the main door. Reaching for the lock with fumbling hands, she managed to pull the door open. But before she could get through it, the man had grabbed her, hand covering her mouth as he pulled her back into the apartment, slamming the door shut with a firm kick. Verity screamed loudly into his gloved palm as he pushed her up against the door.
"Not this time, you bitch," he snarled into her ear and she swore she recognised his voice behind the mask that muffled it. She didn't get a chance to scream anymore as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged her head back before slamming her headfirst into the door repeatedly until he knocked her out.
…
"Turns out that Dorothy and Mark Daniels are out of the country," Eric informed Mark. "They've been in Italy for the last week and a quick look at their bank statements confirms that. Derek Jacobson has been at the Hamptons too…condition of his bail that he hasn't broken."
"Fuck," Mark complained.
"We can't find any prints either. We have nothing to go on here," Eric said. "Unless anyone saw someone at the apartment we're blind right now."
Mark shook his head slowly. "I need to go and find Verity," he said. "I have some things I need to sort out. Verity…I said some things I shouldn't have said."
"Every couple has arguments, Mark," Eric assured him.
"I snapped at her and she was just…she was just trying to work this out," Mark said. "I owe he an apology."
"Listen, our job is stressful and it becomes even more stressful when it drags in people who we love," Eric said. "We become blinkered. We see things we want to see and ignore other things around us. I know that isn't good and it isn't professional, but it's true. I've seen guys who've had to arrest their kids for possession…cousins who've been arrested for drink driving…being a cop is hard when our families get involved."
"I get that, but…I still need to apologise," Mark declared. "Listen, if anything comes up then let me know, alright?"
"And where are you going?"
"Maybe Verity is right. Maybe we shouldn't be in the apartment," Mark said. "I'll take her to a hotel if we can't stay at Janet's. Either way, I need to find her."
"She's a good one," Eric said and the two of them walked out together down the corridor. "Go and get her and just keep her close, alright?"
"Intend to," Mark said with a firm nod of his head.
Leaving the precinct, he drove to Janet's apartment and managed to find a parking space just around the corner. He'd been to Janet's apartment only once before to pick Verity up and her friend had invited him up for a drink. He'd marvelled at the massive space with the views over Central Park. He had no idea how much it cost and he didn't even want to guess. Verity had told him that it had been in Robert's family for years and that it was worth more than she cared to guess.
Walking into the apartment building, Mark saw the concierge who eyed him suspiciously. "Hi," Mark greeted, holding his police badge in his fingertips. "I'm here to visit Janet and Robert."
The concierge frowned. "Mr and Mrs Davidson?" he checked. "They left last night for the Hamptons."
"My girlfriend…Verity Daniels…she said she was coming here," Mark said and the man just nodded his head.
"I know Verity," he confirmed. "She's a good girl…very pleasant and even brings us pastries whenever she visits Janet. But she hasn't been here today. I haven't seen her and no one has asked for a key to the Davidson's apartment."
"You're sure?"
"Positive," the balding man replied and Mark frowned but nodded his head.
"Okay," he said. "Thanks."
Taking off back to his car, Mark chewed down on his bottom lip and went back to the apartment. Parking around the corner, he tugged his key from his jean pocket and let himself in. Moving up the stairs, he unlocked the door. "Ver?" he called into the apartment. "Ver, sweetheart?" he shut the door with the heel of his foot and wandered down the hallway and into the kitchen. She wasn't there. Moving back to the bedroom, he saw that her wardrobe was open and her weekend bag was gone along with some of her clothes.
Mark sighed and sat down on the end of the bed for a moment before he noticed something on her dressing table. Moving to his feet, Mark walked forwards and picked up the piece of paper. Unfolding it, he looked down and saw Verity's handwriting.
Mark,
I've gone to Janet's for a while. We need some space.
All my love, Verity
Mark frowned. He'd been to Janet's and she wasn't there. Where else would she have gone? She wouldn't have disappeared without telling him. And then there was the fact that she had signed the letter Verity. She never signed notes with Verity to him. He knew they were fighting, but she still called herself Ver. She left him notes in the morning when he slept in or if she asked if he could grab something from the supermarket. She always signed off with Ver.
Standing up, Mark held the letter firmly in his grip and wandered forwards and towards the hallway again. Looking at the door once more, he did a double take when he saw it. Moving towards it, his eyes narrowed and he felt his blood chill. He reached his finger up along the mark and he knew something was wrong. It was blood. There was a blood stain on the wood.
"Something's wrong," Mark whispered to himself. "Ver…where are you, sweetheart?"
….
A/N: So we slowly get to see a downward spiral and how Hoffman becomes more Hoffman-like as we know in the films. Would love to know if you're reading and what you think!
