Twisted and Tied (Marshals 4)

I did. She was right. If Ian wasn’t my work partner anymore, and if he actually wanted to be transferred to SOG, then did I still want to be a marshal? Was the real thrill of the job being with him? And if I wasn’t his partner, did Ian still want to be one? But maybe I was misreading the guy I loved. Maybe he was just helping out because he missed being in Special Forces, and that desire would fade over time.

“I think you need to figure out your life, Miro Jones.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Chapter 3

SINCE MY day was over at six, I went back down to our office, got an apple from the ridiculously large basket in the break room that was currently filled with, among other things, papaya and mango, and stopped at White’s desk after I grabbed my mouse off Becker’s. Why someone had to move it every frickin’ day was beyond me.

“Hey,” I greeted him, sinking down into the chair to his right, propping my elbow beside his inbox. “Any luck?”

White grunted. “No, and I checked through all the human resources files today.”

“You realize if Kage ever catches you or Sharpe in there, you’re dead.”

He shrugged. “I figure I’ll blame Kowalski.”

“How you figure?” I asked, then took a bite of the Fuji apple. “Didn’t he just leave on that fishing trip with his family?”

“Yeah, he left right after the op this morning. Ching called him about Hicks, though, and he felt like crap when he found out you got hurt.”

“Well, that’s all heartwarming and shit, but that doesn’t change what has to be done.”

He scoffed.

“What? If he would just tell us what the hell Jer stands for, we wouldn’t have to go looking through all the records,” I said indignantly.

“You realize you sound ridiculous,” Sharpe commented from his desk.

“Kowalski’s the one who’s bein’ a dick.”

A month ago I mentioned to White that only Eli knew his partner’s real name and that he wasn’t telling, and wasn’t that annoying? What followed was White and Sharpe pushing and digging to see if Kowalski or Eli would break. Neither had, not surprising in the least, so now whenever both of them were out of the office—like Kowalski now taking his annual vacation with his brother and their extended family, and Eli chauffeuring his cousin around—White and Sharpe and I were left snooping. It wasn’t like we were giving up nights or work hours to the quest, but when we had any downtime… we tried to dig up Kowalski’s full name from somewhere. Sharpe had even looked up old yearbooks and pretended to be from the homecoming committee and called his mother, but she was smarter than he was and told him if he did it again, she’d tell her son. Nobody wanted that, so we closed the door on that angle.

“All his paperwork actually says ‘Jer’ on it,” Sharpe pointed out. “Are we sure Jer isn’t just it?”

“It’s not,” White assured him, gesturing at me. “On Miro’s paperwork it just says ‘Miro,’ and we know that’s not right.”

“This is an excellent point you’re making,” I commended Sharpe. When he actually looked at me after I spoke, he jolted like I’d startled him. “What?”

“You look like shit.”

“I got beat up and hit with a gun,” I reminded him. “Can I get a fuckin’ break?”

“Yeah, but aren’t you going with us to drink with Kohn and his cousin?”

“Yeah, why?”

Sharpe gestured at me.

“What?”

“You’ve got blood all over you.”

“Which is why I gotta go home and change.”

“No, no, no,” White grumbled. “You go all the way home, and we’re stuck waiting on you for hours to eat. Just—” He looked at his partner. “Don’t you have extra shirts in your locker?”

“Lockers” were what they had at the gym; these were more like tiny hall closets with locks on them. You could hang a couple suits, store a couple pairs of shoes in the cubby at the top, and that was about it.

“I don’t have anything that’s gonna fit him,” Sharpe groused. “I’m taller than he is.”

“Yeah, but he’s got a lot more muscle.”

There was a pause.

“Pardon me?”

I started laughing.

“Fuck you, Chandler, more muscle my ass!”

I realized with a heave of breath that I missed Ian and wished he were here.

“Where the fuck is Doyle?” Sharpe complained, looking at me. “Is he home? ’Cause if he is, he could bring you something.”

That reminded me that Ian had driven today because after work he had to go see his father out in Marynook. Ian had been sketchy on the details, but I suspected Colin Doyle wanted to talk about Ian’s stepbrother’s upcoming sentencing on drug charges. Ian also alluded to the fact that his father found some old photo albums that belonged to Ian’s mother and wanted to return them. So since he planned on doing that, I was going with Eli and Ira to have drinks, and then Ian was supposed to rendezvous with us for dinner. I wasn’t surprised there were no messages or missed calls from him, and none of the guys had seen him since he left with SOG earlier.