Mark Taylor Omnibus (The Mark Taylor Series)

by M. P. McDonald

  The pub wasn’t busy and he took a seat at the bar. Sitting alone at a bar watching a game and eating a burger felt acceptable. Sitting at a table alone in a restaurant just made him look lonely. While he waited for his burger, he sipped a beer and ate peanuts from the bowl in front of him. Pool balls clacked from the back of the room. A game would be fun. Too bad he didn’t have anyone to play against. He set his beer down and mopped up the condensation that had dripped onto the wood near his elbow. If the table became free, he could shoot a bit.

  His dinner arrived and he bit into the burger. It was just as juicy as he’d hoped. A couple of guys near the end of the bar laughed about something. A group pushed through the front door and worked their way across the room. Law enforcement. Jim could peg them from a mile away from the way they carried themselves.

  He observed them for a few seconds but then the sound of the crowd on the television caught his eye. The Cubs had a rally going and he forgot about the others in the room, so when he felt a tap on his shoulder, it took him a second to respond, and when he did, he jumped, rattling the silverware on his plate.

  “Jim?” Jessica Bishop stood on his left, her arms crossed and eyebrow raised. “What are you doing here…again?”

  “Detective Bishop.” He wiped his mouth and hands with the napkin, and then put his hand out, noting her hesitation.

  After a second, she shook his hand, but had to move in closer to allow the rest of her group to squeeze past them.

  She stepped back and called over her shoulder to the retreating group. “I’ll be there in a sec, order me a beer, okay?” She turned back to Jim. “You didn’t answer me.”

  He sighed. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, but as it happens, I work in Chicago now.”

  She glanced around, then leaned forward and said in a quiet voice, “There’s not a CIA office in Chicago.”

  Jim shook his head and took a swig of his beer. “I’m heading a task force in cooperation with the FBI here.” He gestured to the empty stool beside him. “Would you care to sit and allow me to buy you a beer?”

  Her lips thinned. “Why the hell would I want to do that?”

  Wincing, Jim jerked his head down in a nod of acknowledgment. “I understand. My apologies.” He pulled his wallet out and removed some bills, setting them on the bar near his empty plate. He’d intended to stay and watch the whole game, but the atmosphere no longer felt welcoming. “I’m sorry for keeping you from your friends.”

  Behind her, the group settled at a table. “They’re co-workers; I wouldn’t exactly call them friends.” She looked like she was going to say something, but bit her lip instead and looked at the floor.

  He waited for her to step back so he could go past her, but it was if she’d put down roots. “Excuse me, ma’am. I’d better be going.”

  “I thought you were going to help him.”

  Jim leaned against the bar, puzzled. “What do mean?”

  “Helping Mark. When you were here last summer, you promised to see what you could do.”

  “I did.” Jim shifted his weight. Taylor’s written prediction had shaken him at the time, but the more he thought about it, the more he wondered how much had been a guess. Or a set-up. He didn’t think Bill would do anything like that, but what of the others in the room? The photos could have been prearranged also. It made a hell of a lot more sense than the crap about a magical camera.

  Her shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have expected that he would be released based on the images you saw. Not sure what else it would take.” She gave him a hard look and turned to leave.

  “He is free. What more do you want?”

  “I don’t understand.” Her fingers tightened on her purse strap, the knuckles whitening.

  He shrugged. “It’s not a trick question. He got out a few months ago.”

  * * *

  “Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. I’ll be sure to let you know if I find out anything.” Jessie set the phone back on the cradle and tapped the end of her pen against the ink blotter on her desk. Why did she even bother looking for the guy? Obviously, he didn’t want to see her. If he had, he knew where she’d be.

  Dan entered the office, a stack of files in his hands. She sighed and held out her hand for her share. So much for lunch hour. “Thanks.”

  He grinned. “Next time, say it with feeling.”

  Reluctantly, Jessie smiled. “Oh, shut-up.”

  With a wink in her direction, he sat and began sorting through the files. “So, what did you find out?”

  She opened a folder, perused the contents and set it on the left side of the desk. “Mark came home, spent one night in Chicago, and then took a bus to his parents’ house near Madison.” Another folder joined the one on the left. “Apparently, he’d had no idea about his apartment, so when he got back, he had nowhere to go.”

  “Ouch. That’s rough.” Dan grimaced, his finger holding his place on a paper as he jotted a note down.

  “Yeah. I’m sure it was. He spent about a week with his parents, but left after some kind of disagreement with his father. She’s only had one phone call since. He said he had a job at a camera store and was doing fine.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yep.” Pausing in taking a note about one of her files, she added, “His mom didn’t think he had much money; everything was frozen by the government, and there was no telling how long that red tape would take to clear. He refused to take any cash from her.”

  They fell silent as they each concentrated on cross-checking files for a case, but Jessie found it difficult. Where was Mark? Why hadn’t he called her? She thought they’d begun something special. Was he okay?

  “What are you going to do?”

  Jessie glanced at Dan. “Pardon?”

  “About Taylor. Are you going to find him?” For once, the man didn’t have a teasing glint in his eye.

  Trying to act unconcerned, she shrugged. “I shouldn’t, but I promised his mother I’d find out what I could.” She waited for him to get in a smart remark, but he didn’t; he only nodded.

  Thirty minutes later, Dan spoke again. “You know, he might not want to see you.”

  Jessie stacked her completed files, stood and crossed to the file cabinet, tossing over her shoulder, “Why wouldn’t he?” Setting the stack on top of the cabinet, she turned towards Dan.

  Dan wore a somber expression. “I had an older brother who was a prisoner of war in Vietnam.” He held up his hand when Jessie began to tell him she was sorry about that. “Let me finish. When he came back, he didn’t want to see any of his old friends, especially the female ones.”

  Jessie crossed her arms and shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. I’d think he’d want to re-connect.”

  He sighed and stacked his files. “You’d think, but he said once that he couldn’t stand the pity in their eyes. I think there was more to it, but he never said much.” Dan held out the stack and she stepped forward and took them, adding them to her own on top of the cabinet. “Eventually, he did marry and have a family, but it was rough at first.”

  She leaned against the cabinet, digesting his words. “Yeah, but Mark wasn’t a prisoner of the North Vietnamese. I mean, he was held by his own country. It couldn’t have been that bad…right?”

  Dan turned his head and shrugged, his expression grim. “You saw the pictures.”

  * * *

  Jessie debated for a week what to do, but finally decided to find Mark to give his mother some peace of mind. There were a couple of dozen camera shops in Chicago, but she only had to call four before she found him. Or rather, she spoke to the manager who confirmed that Mark worked there, but he was on his break. She thanked him and said she’d try again later. After hanging up, she noticed the address of the shop and felt the hairs on her arms rise. It was the same shop that she had used to develop the pictures from Mark’s camera last summer.

  An hour later, she stood in front of the shop, working up the nerve to enter. Should she
force her presence on him? What if he’d changed? What if he was like Dan’s brother? There was only one way to find out. She removed her sunglasses in the dim interior of the shop. Mark had his back to her, his attention focused on a customer examining a camera. He looked leaner than she recalled. His hair was longer too, but it looked good.

  “Can I help you?”

  To her right, she found the young man who had helped her the last time she had been in, when Jim had been with her. His eyes widened in recognition.

  “Hey, I remember you.” He stepped closer, his head bent as he said in a low voice, “I never told anyone about those photos, but if you have more like them, I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse to develop them. I don’t want to get mixed up in anything like that.”

  Jessie held up her hand in a stop gesture. “No, I didn’t come for that reason. I’m actually here to see if I could get a moment to speak to Mark Taylor.” She glanced at Mark, who held the camera in his hand and was pointing to something on it, angling it for the customer to see. He’d turned a fraction and she had a glimpse of his face. It was the same, but different. His skin was pale, and she recognized the prison pallor. The young man spoke and drew her attention back. She peeked at his name-tag. Gary.

  “Sure. You know Mark?”

  She hesitated a beat. “Yes. It’s been awhile though.” Mark was still unaware of her presence, and looked like he was wrapping up a sale. He set the camera on a counter and put it back in the box, showing the customer some manuals before placing them in the box as well.

  “Oh, shit.”

  Startled, Jessie turned towards the manager. “Excuse me?”

  The guy blushed, but he also had the oddest expression on his face. “Now I know where I’d seen Mark before. It was him in those pictures.”

  She raised her chin, giving him a hard look. “I think you’re mistaken…Gary.”

  He shot a wide-eyed look at Mark then back to her. “But—”

  Jessie narrowed her eyes and Gary broke off and gulped.

  Mark’s voice rose as the customer crossed the shop to the front door. “You have any problems or questions, don’t hesitate to come back in. Have a nice day.”

  Gary backed away, and then turned towards Mark. “Hey, Mark. Someone wants to see you.”

  Jessie watched as Mark wrote something down on a pad of paper, and then glanced up. His initial expression of curiosity turned to frozen shock.

  She approached him. “Hi.”

  He didn’t speak until she had come to a halt, the glass counter separating them. “Jessie.” He nodded.

  “How are you doing, Mark?”

  “I’m okay. You?”

  She’d received warmer greetings from the people at the DMV. Jessie searched his face until he averted it; his fingers drumming a rhythm on the counter top. “I’m good, but I’d like to talk to you.” She gestured to the store. “It might be better to go somewhere a little more private.”

  “I can’t. I’m working now and I already had my break.” He reacted as if she had asked him to rip his fingernails off one by one.

  Jessie nodded. “Right. What about later? Tonight?”

  He braced his hands on the edge of the counter, his head down. For a long moment, he remained in that position, and then looked at her, his face calm. “Sure. I’ll meet you at O’Leary’s Pub. You know where that is?”

  “Yeah. What time is good?” She wished he’d show some emotion, but his face, after the initial shock, was blank. Impassive.

  “I’m off at six. I can be there by seven-thirty.”

  “Sounds perfect. I’ll get there a little early to get a table.” She began backing towards the door then stopped. “Mark. I missed you.” Without waiting for his reaction, she turned and hurried out the door.

  Twenty

  The rest of the workday passed in a blur, except for an odd conversation with Gary. The guy had been giving him strange looks ever since Jessie had left. After the third time he’d caught Gary staring at him, Mark threw his pen down on the counter. “What? Do I have something hanging out of my nose?”

  “No, I’m sorry. It’s just that…well, now I remember where I’ve seen you before.” He turned away and began sorting through customer film envelopes.

  Mark waited to see if Gary would clue him in. A minute later, he stalked over to his manager and tapped his shoulder. “And? Ya got me curious.”

  Gary straightened and his face was a deep red. It could have been from leaning over, but his expression hinted at more than that. “I shouldn’t have said anything. What I see in photos developed here is private stuff.” He stopped and scratched the back of his head. “I’ve seen plenty, but I don’t talk about it. I mean, it’s like a lawyer/client relationship, right? It should never go beyond these walls.”

  Puzzled and irritated at the long-winded reply, Mark leaned back against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “What the hell are you yapping about?” It was probably the wrong tone of voice to aim at his boss, but the guy was rambling.

  Shoulders hunched, Gary evaded Mark’s look. “I saw those kinky pictures.”

  “Now you’ve completely lost me.” It had been a mistake to ask. He had enough to think about without having to add concern that his boss was losing his mind.

  Gary gave a covert glance around the shop as though expecting to see spies lurking in the corners. Mark didn’t know whether to be amused or angry. He braced for a sophomoric comment from the guy, and had a smart comeback ready to jump off the tip of his tongue.

  “The pictures where you were chained and had someone pour water on your face.”

  Mark sagged against the counter as if he’d been sucker punched. The shock changed back to anger. He straightened, grabbing Gary by the front of his shirt. “Who showed you those pictures? Where’d you get them?” He gave Gary a firm shake, but not as hard as he wanted. He ached to rattle the teeth right out of the guy’s head.

  Gary’s eyes became round, and he shoved away. “From that woman who was here earlier. She came in a couple of times, said it was police business. Even had some government guy with her.” He straightened his clothes. “Hey, Mark, I don’t care what you do on your own time. Just as long as everyone is willing and nobody gets hurt.”

  “You sonofabitch…” Mark raised his arm to grab Gary again, but when the guy flinched, it felt like bucket of ice water washed over him, dousing his anger. He wouldn’t become a crazy monster who made people fear him. He took a deep breath, easing it out and willed his muscles to relax. Instead of getting angry, he should find out who had shown Gary the pictures. As embarrassing as Gary’s presumption that it was a sexual thing, it was a good cover. “Look, I’m sorry.” He forced a smile. “I guess I got carried away.”

  Gary straightened his collar and said, “No problem. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

  “Not a big deal.” Mark sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Who was the government guy?” That part totally confused him.

  “The second time she came in with film, there was an uptight guy who flashed a badge at me and made me swear not to tell anyone about the photos. That it was a big secret.” Gary ducked his head. “That made it even…odder.”

  “Second time?”

  “Yeah. The first time, instead of water, it was when you were doing some kind of bondage thing.” Gary’s face turned brick red.

  “It wasn’t a bondage thing…I was just…bound. But not for reasons you’re thinking. Anyway, what was Jessie doing with the pictures?”

  Gary didn’t look at him, just shrugged and sorted newly processed photos. “You’d have to ask her.”

  * * *

  Mark paused outside O’Leary’s as a wave of nausea hit him. It was just Jessie. He squared his shoulders and entered the dim interior. At least he’d picked a location where he felt comfortable. He and Bud had taken to watching ball games and shooting pool here a couple of times a week. Blinking as his eyes adjusted, it was a moment before he spotted Jessie sitting at
a table towards the back. She hadn’t seen him yet, and he took the opportunity to drink in the sight of her.

  She wore her hair pulled back and twisted into some kind of clip that allowed a few strands to trail down and brush her shoulders. It was sophisticated, yet soft and inviting. At that moment, she turned and spotted him. Their eyes locked. His heart thundered like the hooves of a racehorse in the homestretch, and he couldn’t move until a waitress crossed between them, breaking the connection.

  “Hey.” It was all he could manage as he slipped onto the bench opposite her.

  “Hi, Mark.” She handed him a menu. “I waited to order. I didn’t know if you wanted to eat or just have a drink.”

  “Are you hungry?” Nerves had stolen his appetite, but he figured he should eat anyway. He studied the menu.

  “I don’t know if I’m hungry. I think I’m too keyed up to eat.” She chuckled and he looked up from the menu in surprise.

  “What’s got you all nervous?” He could think of lots of possibilities and none were good. Was she going to tell him that she was married? Had a steady boyfriend? Thought he was guilty?

  She spun a coaster in circles with her index finger and watched it as though fascinated. “I don’t know.” She shrugged and flashed an embarrassed smile at him. “I guess I don’t know what to say to you.”

  Mark understood what she meant, but understanding didn’t make it easier to respond. He crossed his arms on top of the table and leaned forward, and looked at the television screen over the bar. Should he ask her how she’d been the last year and a half?

  The silence between them stretched. Finally, afraid she’d leave, he cleared his throat. “Listen, I…I’ve never been good at small talk, and I’m out of practice. What do you say we just order a pizza? We can talk about that.”

  Biting her lip, she nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

  They decided on sausage and mushrooms and a pitcher of beer. Mark poured for both of them when the beer arrived. “I didn’t know you liked mushrooms.”