So obviously I don't own anything, but I have decided to write a story based off of The Surgeon, how Jane captured him and such. I have not read Tess Gerritsen's books so it will not be like it I don't think. It is based off of the television characters anyway. The story will eventually be Rizzles because I can't think of who should be together more than Jane and Maura.
I hope you take an interest in my story! Currently, I'm going through to edit some stuff. There is always something that I have missed or awkward wording the needs corrected. Please leave a review on your thoughts, comments, questions, concerns, etc. Ha, ha.
Here Comes Our Hero
/
"Rizzoli." Her voice was huskier than normal as she tried to pull herself out of the remnants of sleep that had been destroyed by her blaring cell phone. It was still dark outside. Orange light filtered into her bedroom in narrow strips from the street lamps underneath the windows. She rubbed her face, looking at the blinds she had forgotten to close last night, which turned out to not be an issue as she was waking up before the sun yet again Jane thought ruefully.
"Jane, we got a body." Her partner Vince Korsak's voice was flat and matter of fact.
The brunette groaned as she looked at her alarm clock. The taunting, red numbers displaying 4:52.
"Where at?"
"Dorchester."
Jane whistled, "That's pretty far north."
"Yeah, I'm already expecting a media circus."
"Rich folks die and you'd think it was the Pope." She clambered out of her warm sheets, undeterred by the cool, wood floor under her feet.
"This one's grisly." Korsak warned.
"Just tell me where to be." She fumbled to get her long legs into the crumpled slacks that had been left next to the bed.
"Darby Road. Numbers 7637."
"See you in 15." Jane snapped her phone shut. She found a navy shirt that was probably clean and tugged it on. She grabbed her gun holster and badge from the nightstand and fixed them around her strong slender hips as she made her way to the kitchen to put on coffee. Jane stood at the kitchen sink and splashed cold water on her face, trying to rid herself of the heavy feeling still lingering in her eyes. She stared blankly at her coffee pot, willing it to percolate faster. Jane hated the mornings. Nothing remotely good happened before 11 o'clock. She sighed, digging out a hair tie that was fortunately still in her pocket. She pulled back her mess of curls into a relatively neat ponytail. It would be impossible to run a brush through without a shower and there was not enough time. Finally the coffee finished and she poured a healthy dose into the first mug she found then spent about a minute dumping sugar into steaming black liquid. She nabbed her favorite black blazer that she had slung over a chair and put it on before grabbing her cup and heading out the door.
She cursed under her breath as she hit the stairs and scalding coffee splashed out hitting her hand. She really needed to invest in a thermos and not this ceramic mug with a garish smiley face on that side that her mother had probably snuck into her apartment. The detective could hear her Ma's voice in her mind lecturing; if you had a sunnier deposition maybe you could find a husband. She quickly shook off the horrifying thought as she the front porch.
Everything was quiet as she drove through the streets with only the occasional garbage trucking sneaking about its duties in the wee hours of the morning. That quickly changed when she pulled up to her destination and her senses were assaulted with flashing lights and voices loudly jumbling together as people milled about with their jobs. Jane stayed in the safety of her car for a moment, drinking the last of her coffee. Abandoning the empty cup, she involuntarily shivered from the temperature change outside of her car. The cold of the night still clung onto the morning as spring struggled to make its way into Boston. The brunette steeled herself and put on her detective face as she approached the crime scene.
"Detective Rizzoli. Victor 8-2-5." Jane checked in with Officer Crowe who was responsible for cordoning off the area. She felt a surge of satisfaction using her official title in front of the patrolman who had still yet to pass his detective's exam. She and Crowe had been in the Academy together and he was always a chauvinistic ass, giving her constant shit just for being female. It thrilled her to no end that she had her gold shield for a year already and he was still a beat cop.
"Yeah, yeah Rizzoli." The man muttered as he let her duck under the crime scene tape.
She smirked at him, "Thank you, Officer."
"I won't be an officer for much longer Rizzoli." He glared at her, "The test is coming up again next month and I will pass it."
"Whatever you say Officer." Jane continued to antagonize him. Crowe looked like he was about to explode but the sound of a high performance car pulling up distracted him. Jane could see his eyes light up a little and a creepy grin appeared on his face as a sleek, black Mercedes parked itself next to her beat up Crown Vic.
"Yes! Here comes that hot new medical examiner."
"Show some respect Crowe." Jane felt inexplicably defensive, "She's the Chief Medical Examiner to you."
Despite herself, Jane's eyes turned as well to watch the ME get out of her car. First classic black stilettos hit the pavement, leading up to pale but perfectly toned legs, which were interrupted by a red designer dress. Jane was sure it would be perfectly tailored to the petite woman's form but a tan trench coat stopped her from seeing what it really looked like. The detective was mesmerized for a moment as the woman tossed around her blonde curls before approaching them. Jane looked away quickly with a faint pink tingeing her cheeks as she realized she had been staring.
"Dr. Maura Isles." The shorter woman flashed her credentials to Crowe who was too busy leering at her to do anything. Jane rolled her eyes and held up the yellow tape for the doctor.
"Thank you Detective Rizzoli." She shot Jane a warm smile. The brunette hoped the darkness hid her blush that only deepened when the medical examiner directed the smile at her. Suddenly her morning did not seem half bad.
"Dr. Isles." Jane acknowledged, "Pretty early in the morning for this, isn't it? Why can't people kill each other at decent hours?"
Thankfully, Maura laughed lightly at Jane's ill attempted joke, "Actually I was already awake."
"You were awake?" Jane sounded aghast. "At 5 o' clock in the morning?"
"Yes, I like to include yoga in my morning routine. The science of yoga yields many benefits for your over-all fitness including your mental health. Many studies show that it helps decrease your stress. Perhaps you would like to join me sometime." Dr. Isles offered.
Jane was always a little astounded at the end of the doctor's little rants. To say that Dr. Isles was a bit eccentric was putting it nicely. She spoke like she was reciting from a textbook and from what Jane knew of her she probably was considering how brilliant she was. She was exceedingly neat and organized from her work to the way she dressed. The detective had never met anyone so well dressed. The blonde obviously came from money was the constant cycle of designer labels she sported. It made Jane wonder what she was doing slumming it with the Boston Police Department. She heard that the doctor had a rather comfortable position at John Hopkins University in Maryland before she suddenly appeared.
Dr. Isles had caused quite a stir in the press when she testified in a high profile case last week. The stunning woman had floated into the courthouse in a regal blue dress with her honey curls shining in the sunlight and a polite smile firmly in place. She looked more like socialite and not the Chief Medical Examiner. On the stand, she had been exact and uncontestable. No matter how the defense came at her, even resorting to bullying tactics, the doctor remained unfazed, answering the questions with science and unquestionable logic. The media was fascinated with her and the defense was learning to dread her and her infallible demeanor.
For all of her mysterious allure, no one had really spoken to her. Cutting up dead bodies for a living was something that would generally keep people at a distance. Combined with Maura's own awkward and at times aloof behavior, the rumors about her were flying around the station. But the doctor mostly stayed down in the morgue, working diligently, and keeping to herself. Yes, the majority of Dr. Maura Isles was still an enigma to Jane, one that perhaps she was a little too keen on solving.
"I prefer kick boxing for stress relief." Jane heard herself saying and immediately wanted to slap her forehead. The shorter woman looked mildly crest-fallen at her answer. The detective quickly realized that Dr. Isles was hoping she actually would accept her offer of morning yoga. Jane quickly corrected herself, "Of course, I'd try anything once."
The brunette was pleased to see that did the trick. She brightened up again, "You know I was involved in a study at Boston University that found yoga elevates the brain's gamma-aminobutyric levels that helps prevent depression and anxiety. You would not regret it."
"Yeah, that's, uh, great. Let me know when you go next time." Jane could not stop herself from saying even though she had zero interest in waking up at five in the morning to do some fancy stretches; the things she did for a pretty face, "You ready? I haven't gone in yet."
"Of course." Dr. Isles nodded bringing back her professionalism now that their small talk was over. Jane led them up to the big house, which was located in a nicer part of town. The media was swarming the perimeter to try and get the scoop on the high profile tragedy. It was not often that they got calls out in areas like this and they were having a field day. Jane ignored them except to send an irritated look, saying not to mess with them. She had not seen them last week when a homeless man had been caught in gang crossfire, the damn vultures. The detective walked into the home and immediately felt unsettled. The feeling only increased upon entering the well-decorated living room where the victims were. It was like she had seen this before. Jane walked over to her senior partner, Vince Korsak, "What do we got?"
"Michael Horn, 47. He was a doctor at Massachusetts General. His wife, Carrie Horn 48, is missing. She works at an advertisement agency. There were signs of forced enter at the back door." Korsak flipped through his notes, "He was found this morning by their maid Silvia Booth. She called 911."
"Where is she now?"
"I had a uni take her down to the station to meet her husband. She was pretty badly shaken up. We can go interview her when we finish up here."
Jane nodded and surveyed the scene. A once good-looking man was seated on the couch with his hands and feet bound and his mouth gagged. A gruesome bloodstain down the front of his white shirt was turning brown. The source of the blood was a clean, deep gash across his throat. Dr. Isles was leaning over him, measuring the wound as she did her preliminary exam, "Carotid and Jugular artery have been transected. It's odd how precious it is."
Jane walked over to take a look for herself. She noticed some unusual marking behind the man's ear. She took out her blue gloves from her blazer pocket and worked them onto her hands before she turned his head to the side to get a better look, "There are Taser burns on his neck."
Jane's feeling of déjà vu amplified. She knelt on the floor looking around for something to help finish the puzzle. The detective peered under the couch and her stomach dropped. She reached under and pulled out the delicate white teacup with blue flowers painted on it. She held it up, "And we have a tea cup."
She looked meaningfully at Korsak. Realization dawned on the older detective while Dr. Isles looked confused, "What is the significance of that?"
"About a year ago, we got a well-to-do family, the Putmans, murdered. He was tased and had his throat slashed open. She was missing. Turned up a day later, sexually assaulted with her throat cut. The exact same MO… Get CSU down here to search for semen." Jane called to an officer. She thought back to the still unsolved case. It had been one of her first calls with Korsak as a detective. She remembered her horror at the first real glimpse of human depravity she encountered as they had pieced together the events that had transpired.
The killer had broken into the home and snuck in the bedroom of the sleeping couple. He first incapacitated the husband with a Taser to the back of the neck then would tie up the wife. He would then bind and gag the man and set them up in the living room facing each other. The bastard would wait for the husband to come to before he would rape the man's wife in front of him. Jane's stomach rolled as she looked at the empty chair that had been taken from the dining room, sitting across from the corpse. Brutal images of a man who had no control or power to stop his wife's pain flashed in her mind. The psycho would finish the man's torment by slicing his throat in front of his wife. The poor woman was then taken for 24 hours and then dumped in a remote location. Jane could hardly comprehend the fear and devastation that this sick man brought into the world.
"And the cup?" The doctor looked for clarification, pulling Jane back to reality.
"He uses it as a sort of alarm system if the husband should try to stand. The same type of tea cup was on the scene." Jane's voice was heavy with implication.
"You mean…" Jane could see that she had caught on.
"It means we have 24 hours to find Carrie Horn." Jane sighed, "And we have a serial killer on our hands."
/
"I'm sorry." A plump woman with dull brown hair dissolved into tears once again. He stout husband rubbed her back and looked pleadingly at the detectives across the table.
"That's alright Silvia." Jane tried a kind smile, "You were a big help. Thank you. If there is anything else you think of, call me."
She slid her card across the table and her husband put it in his shirt pocket with a short nod, "Thank you detectives."
Jane came out of the interview room with Vince close behind. She rubbed her forehead tiredly. It was only 9:30 and she was already exhausted. Jane turned to talk quietly with Korsak in the hallway, "Well, that was little help."
She stated in direct contradiction of her statement to the Booths. They had just finished asking Mrs. Booth some questions but she had not been able to tell them much. The frazzled woman did not have a lot of interaction with the family. She had only been working for them for about a week, but her impression of her employers was that they were well liked by everyone. There were no apparent enemies and no unusual people hanging around. Jane hoped they could find an aspect that unified the two cases.
"I will go see if I can find some common link between them." Korsak said, "And go through old cases to find any with similar MO's. He could have been at this a long time. Maybe he was more sloppy back then. Though he is not afraid to leave DNA. He knows that he is not in the system."
"Sounds good." Jane agreed, "I'll join you after the autopsy. Dr. Isles has started and I want to see what she finds."
Jane walked down to the elevators while Vince headed in the opposite direction to the desks. She hit the down button to go to the basement. She attempted to pull herself together during the descent as she ran her fingers through her dark hair and smoothed her hands over her rumpled pants. Jane sighed as she reviewed herself in the foggy stainless steel elevator door. It was as good as it was going to get, she thought, straightening her blazer and stepping out. Jane fought the urge to roll her eyes at herself. It was pointless really to care how she looked when going to see the medical examiner, but Jane had begun to admit to herself that she might have a little crush on the other woman. The detective was not really out of the closet but she had dated a few girls when she was in the Academy, along with a couple guys, and thoroughly enjoyed women's company much better. However, no one really inspired her to commit and whom she committed to was nobody else's damn business so she had never felt the need to discuss her sexual preference.
Jane strode into the autopsy room. She paused at the sight of Dr. Isles hovering over their victim in her black scrubs. No, she had a huge, full-on crush on the new medical examiner, Jane corrected herself internally. She was too adorable for words as the blonde straightened up from the man's opened chest cavity, looking at Jane through her protective eyewear, "Detective Rizzoli, sorry I got started without you."
"That's alright." Jane managed to say, "You have a COD?"
"Cause of death is exsanguination. He bled out within 5 to 8 minutes."
Jane nodded. She forced herself to focus on the autopsy and not the way Maura had swept her hair out of the way, reveal a slender, elegant neck. "Any thoughts on the murder weapon? Last time we could not find anything on scene that matched."
"Yes." Maura held up her scalpel. "This."
"The killer is using a scalpel?" Jane's eyebrows rose in surprise.
"Yes, I'm quite familiar with the marks it makes and this wound is consistent with a scalpel as it is with the Putmans case." Maura paused, "Though I'm surprised that the previous medical examiner did not note it."
"Yeah, well, Dr. Hill wasn't exactly known for his higher brain function." Jane muttered thinking back to the rather dull man who served his function just fine but lacked any imagination, "So we have so hack wielding scalpels out there?"
"No."
"No? You just said…"
"Yes, he is using a scalpel. No, he is not a hack, implying that his work is sloppy."
"What do you mean?"
"Who ever is committing these murders has a very intimate knowledge of human anatomy." Maura explained, "As all of the cuts are precise and almost the exact same. Someone couldn't achieve this if they did not know what they were doing."
Jane's mind began to turn, "So who would know how to do that?"
Maura looked thoughtful, "Doctors, nurses, coroners, other medical field workers. Maybe even butchers. You know, pig and humans share many common physical characteristics."
"They even do pig valve replacements where they most commonly transplant a pig valve with the mitral valve in the human heart. Though an average swine's life span is that of 10 to 15 years, so it is debated whether it is the most reliable. There are more durable options these days with mechanical valve replacements."
"Okay talking Google." Jane teased, "I get the picture."
Maura missed the friendly tone and ducked her head. Blushing, she murmured an apology. Jane mentally kicked herself at the slight hurt that flashed through hazel eyes, "Hey, I was just teasing. I didn't mean anything by it. I think it's great that you know all that stuff."
Dr. Isles looked up again, "You do?"
"Yeah, I, I think it's endearing." Jane gave her a charming smile. The ME blushed more but returned the smile.
"I was never good at understanding social cues." The shorter woman admitted, "The only teasing I got from my school mates was malicious. They used to chant, 'Maura's a bore-a'."
She sing-sung the line and then continued, "I think they meant bore but it didn't rhyme."
"Kids can be cruel." Jane instantly wanted to go back in time beat up anyone who had torment the young Dr. Isles. She imagined a blonde-haired little girl with a pristine dress on and her nose stuck in a thick book, far too big for her size. It was too precious, "You know, they used to call me Roly-Poly Rizzoli."
Maura giggled. Her hand quickly flew to her mouth trying to cover the smile there, "You were overweight as a child?"
"You think that's funny, do you?" Jane grinned to show that she was not really offended.
"I'm sorry." Maura shook her as she tried to straighten her face out.
"Don't be." Jane waved her off, "And I was not overweight. I was athletic."
"Athletic being a euphemism for hefty?" Maura asked. Jane opened her mouth to explain but saw a mischievous glint in the other woman's eyes. She smiled with realization that Maura was attempting to joke around with her.
"Look at you teasing." Jane laughed, "You catch on quickly."
"That's strange. Normally I'm very poor at conveying a playful social interaction." Maura looked a bit proud of herself.
"Don't worry." Jane smirked at her diction. From what she could gather, it was Maura's way of saying she was shy, "I'll teach you all there is to know."
Maura opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Korsak, "You find anything?"
He stopped next to Jane, while shoving a donut in his mouth, completely unaffected by the corpse lying open on the table. Jane cursed him for interrupting their banter but reviewed what Dr. Isles had told her so far, "The killer used a scalpel to cut the Vic's neck. Dr. Isles believes that the killer has a medical background."
"That's a start."
"What about you? Did you find anything that would help us locate Carrie?"
"Nothing so far." Korsak bit out frustrated, "They didn't even go to the same dry cleaners. The only similarities are they are successful, white married couples who seem to be genuinely happy."
"Damn, so how is this guy targeting them?" Jane wondered allowed.
"Michael Horn's parents are here now actually. They saw it on the news." Korsak shook his head.
"Shit." Jane swore under her breath. It was a horrible way to find out they had lost their child.
"You want to come talk to them with me?"
"Yeah, they will need to identify the body." She glanced at Maura to see when she would be ready for the family.
"I'm almost finished here. I just need a half hour to stitch him up." The doctor said. "I will text you when I have him in the viewing room.
"Great. Thanks."
"I will have the full report to you later this afternoon." Maura turned back to her work.
"Alright, well, I'll see you."
"Goodbye Detective." Jane heard Maura say as she departed with Vince.
/
Maura watched the taller woman unconsciously swagger out of the morgue. A smile played at her lips as her mind went over the interaction she just had with Jane. It had been about a month since she first started working for the Boston Police Department and their conversations stayed distinctly in the realm of work. That was until today, when Maura took the first tentative step towards being friendly by, what she hoped was, casually inviting Jane to yoga. She had been pleased to find that she had not been denied and Jane had surprisingly accepted.
Maura was aware of the reputation that she was already garnering with her co-workers. They shifted uneasily around her, whispering behind her back about how cold and indifferent she was, or so they assumed. They were afraid of her. Queen of the Dead they called her. Maura was no stranger to this kind of alienation from her peers, having to deal with it her whole life. She stuck to her work and ignored the hurt that she felt.
They only person who seemed to not be put off by her purely scientific approach was Detective Rizzoli. The brunette was respectful and genuinely nice to her when they worked together. Beyond that, Maura had never experienced such ease with another person. She astonished herself with the comfortable and lighthearted dialogue that she had just had with Jane.
Maura did not know what it meant, but she desperately wanted to explore it more.
/
Jane looked across the table at the elder Mr. and Mrs. Horn. They looked about as white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant as they come. Richard Horn was a broad man with distinguished salt and pepper hair. He looked like a caricature of a professor in his overly round glasses and tweed jacket. His wife Grace was elegant and poised in her crisp, white blouse, but Jane could see the pain that haunted her eyes. The couple was eerily quiet for having just lost their son. Jane knew it was from years of being conditioned to tamper out any public displays of emotion. High society did not air their dirty laundry.
"I am so sorry for your loss." Jane began. There was a pause.
"Who?" Mr. Horn's words were heavy, "Who? Would do this to our son?"
"We don't know yet, sir." Jane hated this part. It never got any easier to tell the families that they would never see their loved on again, "But we're going to do everything we can to catch this man."
"I know this is a difficult time." Korsak said solemnly, "But could we ask you a few questions?"
Mr. Horn hesitated but consented with a nod. Mrs. Horn gave no recognition. She only fidgeted slightly with her pearl necklace. Korsak glanced at Jane continued, "Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your son? Did he have any enemies?"
"No, Michael was always a good boy, good man." His voice was strained with grief and pride, "He volunteered at a community center on the weekends teaching kids how to play basketball. He loved kids."
"Do you know if Michael had met anyone new recently?" Jane asked.
"No… Well, they got new neighbors down the street. He mentioned that he and Carrie were going to have them over for dinner some night."
"Do you know if they went anywhere last night?"
"Ah, Mike had a big board meeting the next day. I think they were just at home."
Jane jotted down some notes. Nothing seemed pertinent. She tried to push away the growing frustrations.
"Carrie…"
Jane was almost startled by the sound of Mrs. Horn's voice. The woman who had been silent until then all but whispered her daughter-in-law's name.
"Have you found Carrie?" Her voice was thin but did not waver.
"No ma'am." Jane said regrettably, "But we're not going to stop until we find her."
"Richard, we should call Janice and Bill." Her hand fluttered uselessly in the air.
"We have already talked to the Bradley's." Korsak tried to reassure them that Carrie's parents had been contacted.
"But still…"
"We will dear." Richard took his wife's hand.
Jane's phone buzzed on her hip. It was a message from Maura saying she was ready. Jane looked up at the family, "Mr. and Mrs. Horn, we need you to come identify the body? Do you think you can do that?"
"Yes." The man said stoically, "Gracie, if you would rather stay here-"
"No, I'm coming."
"Alright," Jane stood slowly, "Follow me."
The detective took them to the basement, leading them down a shadowy but clean hallway to a window with the blinds drawn. Jane hit the button on the intercom, speaking softly, "We're ready Dr. Isles."
The blinds almost instantly began to rise and Jane could see half of the doctor pulling on the cords. Slowly she revealed a man, lying under a white sheet that was carefully covering up his neck.
"Michael. Oh my baby!"
Jane flinched at the anguished sound of his mother's voice. All pretenses slipped away as her impeccable posture crumbled and she fell into her husband's arms. Her sobs echoed painfully around them. Her husband could do nothing but hold on tightly to his wife, as he was unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of his dead son.
Jane rubbed her face. Glancing at Maura, she nodded. The blonde took the indication and quickly closed the blinds once again. Jane felt trapped there with their heartache pouring off of them in waves. Vince wearily made his way to escort the couple somewhere more private. Jane turned on her heel having to get away from them. She determined to do everything she could to put a stop this.
/
Let me know what you think! Reviews are always appreciated.