The distinct pop of a gun discharging jolted Marshall out of dreamland. It took only a second for him to orient himself and realize the sound had not been part of his dream. He rolled to his feet, grabbed his badge and guns in a single smooth motion and slipped silently into the hallway.
The door to Kathy's room was firmly shut and there was no sign of any forced entry. He breathed a sigh of relief, but the feeling was short lived.
"Kathy, open up or I'm coming in." Even through the door Marshall could hear the concern in his partner's voice quickly followed by the sound of splintering wood.
Without stopping to think he took a step back from the door and give it a solid kick. The wood splintered and the door flew open with a bang. 23 glock gripped tightly in his hands he surveyed the room quickly and entered. He took note of the open adjoining door, and the perfectly made bed that had clearly never been slept in. He turned and caught sight of his partner standing, frozen, just inside the bathroom, gun clenched by her side. She was hyperventilating, quick sharp useless gasps for air.
He took in the sight, quickly assured himself there was nothing they could do for the witness, and allowed his instincts to take over. He holstered his gun, took Mary by the shoulders and forced her to turn away from the sight, not letting her go until she was seated on the edge of the bed. "Breathe, Mary." He murmured softly, resting one hand on her shoulder, "just breathe. There's nothing you could have done. Just keep on breathing."
He fumbled for his phone, never taking his eyes off her face. He'd never seen her quite like this, not even the night they pulled her out of the basement. Her eyes stared without seeing, he wasn't even sure if she knew he was there. Her breaths continued to come in useless gasps for oxygen until, unsurprisingly, her body slumped in a dead faint.
With one arm he gently leaned her back against the bed, the other hand still clutched his phone. His first call went to the security detail posted around the hotel. "The witness has been shot."
"Murdered?"
"No, looks like suicide."
"Want us to call the local PD?"
"Yes, and an ambulance."
"Emergent?"
"No, but my partner's pretty shaken up. I'd like her looked at."
"You got it. Anything else?"
"Not yet. Thanks."
He snapped the phone closed and sank onto the bed beside Mary. He pushed a stray chunk of hair off her neck so he could check her pulse. It was a healthy 67 beats per minute. He flipped the phone open again and dialed Stan.
"This had better be important," a half-asleep Stan growled into the phone.
"Our witness is dead."
"When? How?" Stan was awake now.
"A little after seven this morning. Gunshot to the head with a 27 Glock. Looks like suicide."
"Looks like?"
"No forced entry. Dead bolt and safety chain were locked when I broke the door down this morning. Security detail didn't report seeing anything suspicious."
"Where'd she get a gun?"
Marshall paused for a moment. He'd been too busy checking to see if Mary was alright to look closely at the weapon. He rose from the bed and returned to the bathroom. What he saw brought a sick feeling to his stomach.
"Well?"
"I think she stole it from Mary."
Stan sighed. "Let me get this straight. Mary's witness is dead in her hotel room and Mary's weapon is what killed her?"
"Yeah."
There was a moment of silence while both men contemplated the possible backlash if this news were to get out.
"You called the local PD?" Stan asked.
"And an ambulance."
"Ok. You two hang tight. I'll call over to the brass and make sure that this stays silent."
"Thanks Chief."
"Hey, why didn't Mary call?" Stan asked, almost an afterthought.
Marshall took a deep breath, considered the options, and lied. "You know how she is. Wants to solve it before the PD gets here and messes up the scene."
"Right." Marshall could almost hear the chief nodding, "OK. Call if you need anything."
Marshall slipped his phone into his pocket and turned to look at his partner. Her eyes were open and she gave him a feeble smile as she sat up on the edge of the bed. "Stan?"
Marshall nodded.
"You tell him it was my gun?"
He nodded again, watching her face carefully to gauge her reaction.
"Ok then." She stood up, a little shaky, but one hundred times more like her usual self than she had been moments before. "What do we know?"
"Not a lot. No forced entry into her room, used a stolen weapon…"
"Is there a note?"
"Didn't see one, but I didn't look for one either."
It was Mary's turn to nod. "Ok. Then I guess that's where we start."
"Gloves," Marshall reminded her.
"Right." Mary returned to her room, riffled through her bag and came up with two pairs of latex gloves.
Five minutes later Marshall let out a triumphant "Ah hah!" and held up a pad of hotel stationary.
"We've got our note?"
"Or more accurately, I have your note. It's addressed to you." Marshall handed the pad to her.
Dear Inspector Sheppard,
I am sorry to have to do this to you. Sorry I didn't get up the courage to end this miserable existence before entering Witness Protection, but I have always been a coward.
I am sorry I stole your gun and that I had to leave you to clean up my mess and that I will not be able to give the testimony needed to put Marvin away. I hope you can forgive me. I am no lawyer, but I read once that a person's last words can be used as testimony in court. I hope this is the case. I have written a statement containing everything I know about Marvin and the girls he hurt. It is in the drawer next to your bed. I wanted to be sure you would be the one to find it.
Thank you for all the help you tried to give me. I know you did everything you could to make this event bearable, but in the end there was nothing anyone could have done.
Kathy Fraser
Mary handed the note back to Marshall and took a deep calming breath against the tears that wanted to fall.
Marshall skimmed it quickly before slipping it into a plastic bag for safekeeping and moving to retrieve the letter from Mary's room. He took both documents to his room and buried them at the bottom of his suitcase. They would turn the letter over to the DOJ once they'd returned to Albuquerque and discussed it with the chief. He had just returned when there was a knock from the open doorway.
"Detective Finnegan, Chicago PD, are you Deputy Miller?"
"Yes I am," Marshall said, motioning for the men to enter. "This is Deputy Sheppard. Thank you for coming so quickly."
The next half hour was a blur. The police fired off questions and combed the room for any evidence of foul play. Though US Marshalls were cream of the crop for many things, they were nowhere near as efficient at processing a crime scene as homicide detectives. For the most part they sat back and watched.
The ambulance arrived thirty minutes after the police. The paramedics came with a stretcher and a body bag, checked out both Mary and Marshall for shock before taking the body away.
"No sign of foul play," Detective Finnegan told Marshall as his team finished their sweep. "We'll have to wait for the autopsy but we're fairly certain this was a suicide." He cast a sidelong glance at Marshall, "You didn't find a note?"
Marshall shook his head.
"Alright." The detective shook hands with Marshall and then Mary before taking his leave. "I'll call you if anything comes up."
"Thank you, Detective." Mary answered for both of them.
When the police were gone she turned to Marshall, her entire being limp with exhaustion. "How soon can we get out of here?"
"I'll call Stan, you go lie down."
It was a mark of how draining the day had been that Mary didn't even try to argue. She simply flashed him a half smile and dragged herself to bed.
Marshall got a hold of Stan right away and within an hour the Chicago PD had been informed that the Marshal's were leaving and could be reached by phone with any questions and Eleanor had booked them a flight for the next day and a suite at the airport hotel for that night.
Relieved they wouldn't have to sleep another night in this hotel, with its painful associations, Marshall packed his bags and Mary's before shaking her awake.
She blinked up at him through bleary eyes. "Time to go home?"
He shook his head, "Earliest flight we could get is 6 Am tomorrow, but Eleanor booked us a room at the Quality Inn & Suites near O'Hare."
She nodded but made no move to get up.
"Which means we move now." He prodded, "Come on, I've packed your stuff and there'll be a taxi downstairs in a couple of minutes."
Mary slowly got to her feet, grabbed her bag and followed Marshall down the hall, three flights of stairs, and out into the bright Chicago afternoon.
They had stayed at the Quality Inn near O'Hare before. It was reasonably priced and convenient to the airport, train and buses, which made it perfect when transporting witnesses. It also included breakfast with make-your-own waffles (which were almost as good as flapjacks) and several kinds of fresh fruit juice.
In what felt like no time at all they were settled into a room with two queen sized beds and a phone book, arguing over what to order for dinner.
"We had pizza last night."
"And it was delicious."
"So is Chinese food."
"You only want Chinese because already gave your Pizza 101 lesson last night and you'd have nothing to say."
Marshall rolled his eyes skyward and gave up. In the nearly four years they'd been partners he had never once won one of their trivial arguments, and he certainly wouldn't tonight. "Alright, pizza it is. The usual?"
"Plus beer."
"I don't think they deliver beer."
Mary glared at him. "You have legs. And I know for a fact there's a 24 hour beer and wine store across the street."
"So I am supposed to leave you alone here with the pizza and trust that there will be some left when I return with beer. I don't think so."
Mary stuck her tongue out at him, but reached for the shoes she had discarded earlier. "I never said I wouldn't come with you. It's a dangerous neighborhood, you'll need backup."
"What about the pizza?"
"We can order it when we get back."
Marshall raised one eyebrow, "Who are you and what have you done with Mary?"
"Knock it off. I can go without food… when there's something reeeeally important I have to do."
"Like buy beer?"
She nodded, "Like buy beer. Let's go, I'm starving."
As they walked across the street to the Beer and Wine store Mary had spotted on their way into the parking lot earlier, Marshall watched with growing concern the almost manic cheerfulness of his partner. They'd been down this road before and it had not been pretty. He knew when they returned to Albuquerque there would be counseling to go through before being allowed on active duty and was selfishly glad that they had been stranded in Chicago for one more night before they would have to face the questions back home. He told himself this happiness had nothing to do with the fact that Mary had not so much as mentioned her fiancé in two days.
***
A little before ten on Thursday morning, Mary staggered up her familiar front walk, ready to fall into bed and sleep for a week. She had survived six hours of conversing with Shelly about the incident in Chicago, filled out hundreds of pages of paperwork and given an official statement for the DOJ about the letters Kathy had left. She had earned a day of rest.
Once again Raph's presence on her couch was an unpleasant surprise that almost caused her to drop her overnight bag.
He turned and smiled at her, the smile did not reach his eyes. "You said you would be home Wednesday."
"Something came up."
"What happened? Are you alright?"
Mary sighed, "It's work. I really can't talk about it."
"Can't or won't?"
"Jesus Raph! I told you what I do. You know I can't talk about it. What more do you want from me?"
"I'm not asking you to tell me the address of your latest mob boss, I asked if you are ok. As your fiance I think I have a right to at least that much."
"Well I'm not. And I can't talk about it so leave it!"
"What is the point of having a fiance if we cannot talk about your day?" Raph's voice was tight with anger, "I have more meaningful conversations with Brandi than I do with you."
"Yes," she replied sarcastically, "because telling me about the in depth, soul searching, conversations you have with Brandi is really going to help." How dare he try to bait her with a mention of Brandi?
"No, what will help is if you stop being such a coward and tell me what is going on."
Mary glowered wordlessly at him. Why couldn't be get it? I should never have told him.
"Fine," Raphael sighed, "If you won't tell me what's wrong can you at least explain what you've been doing with Marshall?"
"Are you serious?"
"Considering you left your engagement ring here. I think I have the right to know."
"Unbelievable," Mary shook her head. "You really don't get it, do you?"
"No. I really don't."
"I. Can. Not. Talk. About. My. Work." Mary bit off each word savagely. "Ever. No matter what."
Raph stared at her as if she'd lost her mind, which she may well have. "You can't shut me out like this Mary." He said, placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. "We're going to be married, and once that happens, I'm here for good. You can't just shut me out like you do with Jinx and Brandi. That's not how this works."
"No." Mary shook his hand off and glared at him, "No that is exactly how this works between you and I."
"So you'll marry me, but you won't tell me where you were for the past three nights?"
"No. I won't tell you where I've been."
"So this is what our life is going to be like after we get married? You'll expect me to hang around here waiting for you while you're off with another man?"
"No." Mary's voice was so tense and brittle she wouldn't have been surprised if it had broken, "It won't be like that."
"Oh reeeally? Then how will it be?"
"You won't be here waiting for me or begging for an explanation because we're not going to get married. Surely you'd figured that out by now?"
She watched his face fall and felt as if she'd kicked a puppy.
As suddenly as it had come, the wave of anger that kept her upright and functioning disappeared, leaving her empty, shaky and defeated. "I'm sorry. I really wanted this to be right, but it just … isn't."
Her eyes pled with him to believe her. He returned the gaze with a dumbfounded expression.
"I-I'll go." She said with a sad half-smile, "When I get back you won't be here so…" She couldn't meet his eyes as she said it, "Goodbye Raph."
She disappeared for a few moments to gather the overnight bag she kept in her closet for emergent WITSEC-related travel and walked out the door,. It wasn't until she pulled out of the driveway that she realized she had nowhere to go. She could sleep at the office, it would hardly be the first time, but the urge to drown her sorrow in the bottle of whiskey she kept beneath her desk was one she dared not indulge. One alcoholic was more than enough for any family to bear.
She thought of Marshall, but couldn't bring herself to do that to him after what they had been through these last four days. It was bad enough he had to hold her hand – yet again – as psych debriefed her and she dealt in her own insane way with the grief and guilt that were poisoning everything, he didn't need to deal with her chaotic personal life as well. She drove aimlessly for hours.
At last, as the Probe's gas guage was flirting with empty and the sky was growing dark, she gave up trying to be noble and turned in the direction of her partner's home. His driveway was empty but she parked and got out anyways. He had to come home at some point.
She hefted her overnight bag and trudged to his doorway. She rang the bell twice, there was no answer. Not that she'd expected one with his truck missing. She leaned her head against the cool wood of his front door and allowed the tears building up in her eyes to spill down her cheeks. Sobs followed in short order, tripping over one another is a rush to be released.
Before long she was huddled on the ground, entire body shaking with sobs she was too tired to fight, overnight bag clutched to her chest like it was the only thing keeping her alive. Eventually the tears dried up, the sobs abated and she slept.
***
Marshall hit save on the last file for the day. With Mary tied up in the Kathy situation for the last twenty-four hours, and their three day absence from Albuquerque, he was hours behind on everything which meant long days at the office until he could get caught up on the mountain of unfinished paperwork. He stretched his long arms above his head and checked the time. 11:30. He groaned. So much for catching up on his sleep. Even if he could fall asleep immediately when he arrived home he would be lucky to get five hours.
Not willing to waste a second of potential rest, he turned off the computer, donned his jacket and in short order was pulling out of the WITSEC parking lot and into the nearly deserted street.
He noticed Mary's car when he was still a block away from home. He wondered how long she'd been there and why she hadn't called. Mary rarely sought him out at home, and on those memorable occasions she usually called and brought the beer.
He pulled in beside the eggplant probe and turned off the engine. Mary wasn't in her car and when he laid a hand on the hood it was cool. He wondered idly where she could have wandered off to as he fumbled for his keys. He nearly tripped over her in the half dark of his front porch.
He unlocked his front door, dropped off the few things he had brought home from the office and returned to the porch where his partner slept on like the silent dead. "Mary?" he shook her gently by the shoulder.
One at a time her eyes opened and she peered up at him. "Marshall?"
He smiled, "You were expecting someone else?"
She shook her head and took the hand he offered to help her to her feet. "Thank you." She stretched and he grimaced as her back cracked back into alignment, "What time is it?"
"A little before midnight." He tilted his head to one side, "You look beat. Need me to drive you home?"
"No." She looked down at her feet, refusing to meet his eyes, "I can't go home."
When she didn't elaborate Marshall used his left hand to tilt up her chin and looked deep into her eyes, "Just tell me what you need."
For the hundredth time that week, tears welled up in her green eyes. She tried to hide them with a depreciating smile, but as usual Marshall saw everything, even those things she wished to keep hidden. "Sleep?"
"That we can arrange." Marshall said, keeping his tone light and he motioned for her to enter his home.
He led her straight to the bedroom and handed her a pair of clean pajamas to change into. "The bathroom is through there," he pointed to his left, "and I will sleep in the living room. Call if you need anything."
"Wait," Mary's voice caught him just as he was stepping out into the hallway. "I-I don't want to be alone right now, can you stay. Just to sleep?"
Marshall nodded silently, not turning around, afraid to let her see the emotions he was certain were flickering through his eyes. "I'll just let you get changed and then I'll be back."Mary didn't respond, but he didn't expect her to. She hated vulnerability, and she rarely said thank you.
He gave her five minutes to change into the airplane pajama pants and oversized grey shirt and then returned to his room. She was still sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the clothes in her lap. She looked up at him with eyes filled with pain and guilt. He forced himself to swallow the lump that rose in his throat.
"She's dead because of me." She said, so softly he almost missed it. "I failed.
"No." In three strides he was beside her, hands jammed tightly into his jean pockets to keep from reaching out and pulling her into his arms. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have known."
"You would have known." It was a statement, not an accusation.
"No. No one could have known. You heard what Shelley said."
"She passed her psych exam with flying colors," Mary repeated tonelessly. "But that was before her best friend was killed."
"You couldn't have known." He repeated.
"I broke up with Raphael."
It took almost a full minute for the words to penetrate through his mind. His pulse kicked up a notch and he felt the tiny sliver of hope he had held on to for so long expand.
"He just couldn't understand. I guess he never did."
"Are you ok?"
She shook her head, "No. I'm not." There was a moment of silence. "But I will be"
He nodded silently, afraid that anything he might say would hurt one or both of them.
"I think we should sleep now." She said softly, getting to her feet. "You look like you're going to keel over.
He gave her a rueful half-smile and turned to his dressed to grab another set of pajamas. He found simple black flannel pants and a white shirt and changed in the living room. This time when he returned, Mary was stretched out on the left side of his bed – as if she somehow knew he always slept on the right. He flicked off the lights on his way through the door.
"I can't get it out of my head." Mary whispered into the darkness. "It just repeats and repeats over and over and every time it's exactly the same. I miss her by a few minutes."
Marshall swallowed hard to keep compassionate tears at bay.
"Every time. Every single time I break down the door and she's there."
He had no words of comfort for her. There were no words in the universe that could erase the pain she was going through. So he did the best he could, reaching out to embrace his sobbing partner, giving her his chest to absorb her tears and his arms to keep her from falling to pieces.
She fit perfectly, like he'd always known she would; her tousled blond hair tickling his chin, one pajama clad leg tangled between his own, her head tucked tightly against his chest. He closed his eyes, but he knew he would not sleep that night, wouldn't dare miss a moment of her in his arms. In the morning she would be Mary again, hard, distant and afraid to let anyone within a mile of her heart, but for now, in this perfect moment, he could hold her as tightly as he liked, breath her in, listen to their hearts beating in perfect synch. And in that perfect moment, it was almost enough.
THE END
A/N: I tried to make it end happily, I really did but I just … couldn't. Hope you enjoyed it anyways. Please drop me a line *points to review button* to let me know.