I drive by Marie's apartment building. No sign of her car. I try the burner I gave her. Nothing. I hit the steering with the heel of my hand. It's been a week, and not even a peep from her.
Dammit. I don't want to do this, but she's giving me no choice. I pull a U-turn, and head downtown. A few minutes later, and I'm sitting outside the Devil's Keep. If she's still keeping the same schedule, she should be starting her shift her soon.
I wait, scanning the street. A motorcycle drives by me, then pulls over to the sidewalk in front of the Keep. I stiffen as Marie hops off the back. She giggles, then throws her arms around the neck of the driver. He pulls her close, and they kiss. This must be Ford. I watch her fingers dig into his hair, and feel like jumping out of my car and dragging her back to the Fort Brynard police station.
She finally pulls away from her, and I watch as they talk. She looks relaxed. Actually, she's positively glowing. What the fuck.
Finally, after another quick kiss, she heads inside, and Ford drives off. I wait three minutes, then unbuckle my seat belt and head across the street.
My eyes take a minute to adjust to the darkness inside the bar. There are only about a dozen patrons around, since it's just the late afternoon. Marie is behind the bar, and turns at the sound of the door closing behind me.
"Hi, feel free…" Her eyes flicker as she recognizes me, but she recovers quickly. "…to take a seat at the bar, or grab a table."
"I'll go for the bar," I reply, and head for a seat right in front of her. She places a cocktail napkin down.
"What can I get for you? And what the fuck are you doing here?" she adds more quietly.
"Whatever's on tap," I reply. She moves a couple feet away and gets a pint glass. I glance around. There's no one close enough to hear our conversation, so as long as I keep appearance light, we're fine. "You haven't sent any updates in a week."
"I've been busy."
"Busy like you were with Ford outside?"
"You're following me now?" she hisses, and puts the beer in front of me. "Would you like to pay now or start a tab?" she says sarcastically. I pull out my wallet.
"You've lost sight of your mission."
"And you're going to blow my cover."
"Just keep smiling and we're fine. I'm going to pull you."
"What?"
"What good is having you undercover? You’ve clearly identified too much with these people."
"That's bullshit."
"Do you have feelings for Ford?"
"…No," she replies, but we both heard her hesitate before answering. My hands form fists under the bar. "Look, you put me in this position, it's impossible to, to not…"
"You're done," I tell her, and take a sip of beer.
"No! Give me one more chance. What can I do?"
"The Lieutenant won't settle for breadcrumbs anymore. He wants something big."
"Fine, I can do something big."
"He wants you to plant a bug in the President's office tonight."
Her eyes grow wide. "That's impossible!"
"Stay calm. Remember, we're just chatting," I tell her, and she grabs a rag and starts wiping down the bar. I take another sip of beer. "That's what he wants. You plant the bug, or we're pulling you out."
"There has to be another way."
"It's been months. His patience has worn thin. If you're not going to be valuable here, you should at least be on patrol in Fort Brynard."
"I need time. To plan, or wait for another big party."
"There is no more time. You don't have to do it, though, Marie. You just say the word, and we pull you out."
"No." She's silent for a minute, thinking as she wipes the same spot on the bar over and over. "Fine. I'll do it."
I reach into my back pocket and take my wallet out again. The bug is in my billfold, and I tuck it into a dollar bill and slide it across to her.
"There." She reaches out and tucks the money into her skirt. "It's tiny. Just tuck it under the desk, or somewhere out of the way. It's already broadcasting."
"Got it," she replies, though her expression is dark.
"I know it's tough, but—" I break off as she looks up and her face changes.
"Hey! What are you doing here?" she asks. I take another sip of beer, resisting looking toward the door to see who just came in.
"You forgot your keys at my place," a deep voice replies. As he nears the bar, Marie leans over it to give him a kiss, and I finally come face to face with Ford. "Thought you might need them."
"Thanks," Marie says. I size the man up out of the corner of my eye. There's no denying he's bigger than me, but I think in a fight we'd be pretty evenly matched. I've been boxing for years, but it would really come down to his training. I'd know more if his records weren't all blacked out.
"Can I help you?" Ford grumbles, and I realize I've been looking at him.
"Don't think so," I reply, and take a sip of my beer.
"He bothering you?" Ford asks Marie.
"No, he's fine," she tells him with a shrug.
"Why don't you go finish that beer over at one of the those tables anyhow," Ford says, nodding to one of the cocktail tables. I stand, and look straight into his eyes. Anger courses through me. I wish I could arrest this motherfucker on the spot. Acting so superior, and he doesn't even know Marie's real name.
"Alright, fellas, don't make me get the hose," Marie chides us. I grab my beer and head over to the table, feeling Ford's gaze on me as I go. As I sit down, I crack my knuckles, and watch Ford lean back over the bar to Marie. He whispers in her ear, and Marie nods.
He brushes a kiss by her ear, then looks back at me as he walks back, shooting me a final, warning glance.
After the door shuts behind him, I look over at Marie, and from the anger in her eyes I can tell that I shouldn't go back over there. I finish my beer in three more gulps and walk out.
Marie's definitely in over her head, but I'm not giving up on her. I've seen undercover cops start identifying with the people they're investigating before, and once they get out and back to normal duty, they quickly readjust. I have faith that once Ford and the Death Dealers are behind bars, Marie will do the same.