Spiced Molasses

Chapter 39

"You can't be serious?" Daryl snarled. Of all the ridiculous things that had ever happened this was on the scale. High up on it. Beth's life was in danger and Dale was standing in front of him holding a suit.

Dale smiled gently but it was tight around the edges. There were lines in his forehead, deeper than before, and for all his calm grins, Daryl knew it was a facade. Dale had somehow been told already of his relationship with Beth. Daryl supposed it was a blessing his old friend was withholding any judgement at this point. He didn't think he could deal with the recriminations from Dale. The fact Rick could barely hold his gaze was bad enough.

That was probably the reason Dale had been roused and brought down to the police station. Well that and Daryl was less likely to argue with the older man. Though the suit dangling from Dale's finger was testing his patience.

"Rick is letting you run the interrogation but since you're no longer undercover, you're one of us."

Daryl took it gingerly from his hands. He was horrified to see a tremble in his fingers.

Dale sighed gently. "You're not their friend."

Daryl snorted obnoxiously. "Might make them a bit hostile. Ain't gonna help no one to rub it in their face."

"It might help Beth," Dale said simply, not shirking his gaze at all. That stopped Daryl dead. His heart gave an uncomfortable twist in his chest. It was harder to convince himself that she was alive and well the more time passed.

"Besides," Dale continues, "Anger might work in your favour. People say stupid things when they're mad."

Daryl ran a hand over the back of his head. That statement had a double meaning. It had the ring of truth but it was also a warning. Daryl had best keep his own head and not say something stupid himself.

Daryl put the suit on in record time. It fit perfectly and it didn't surprise him. It was more expensive and better tailored than anything he would have wasted money on. He caught his reflection in the mirror expecting to see an uncomfortable man playing dress up but the person looking back at him was practically a stranger. The most disconcerting thing was that he didn't look out of place at all wearing the suit. There was a fierce determination in his eyes and a confidence he didn't recognise.

Was this the change that Beth had wrought in him? He had always assumed he wasn't good enough for her but perhaps he had become so.

"That's the spirit." Dale put a hand on a shoulder which Daryl had unconsciously squared.

Summoning his wits, Daryl pushed his way out of the bathroom. He ignored the sidelong stares and whispers. For a secret organisation, word sure spread fast.

Rick and Shane were standing outside an interrogation room, both frantically texting and directing passerbys. Shane's eyes widened a fraction.

"Nice monkey suit," he commented snidely.

"Fuck you, Shane," Daryl retorted levelly. "Those the photos?"

Rick handed over the folder in his hand. "Flights incoming into Hartsfield-Jackson over the last week. We're running facial recognition with Interpol for other airports but it is a start."

Daryl prised open the door, having being forewarned as to what to expect. Pete was sitting calmly at a steel table, nailed to the floor. The other four chairs in the room had been hurled around and Martinez was currently spitting expletives at the two way mirror.

Daryl's entrance grabbed their attention. For a long second there was silence and then Martinez cried out and snatched up a chair to throw it at him. If his wrists hadn't been bound, he might have hit his target. As it was, a neat side step on Daryl's part sent the chair sailing harmlessly by.