Chapter 1

"...you know, it really is all about the money, when you get right down to it. Maura insisted on lavender, though she knows I detest the color. But, she does tend to have an eye for those sorts of things. Her father and I had always hoped she would follow in my footsteps and pursue a career in art – she has such talent, but nevertheless she has always insisted on chasing after one thing or another in the scientific field. We were certainly proud to hear she received her MD, but now she seems to be interested in um…well what is it that you've gotten yourself into now, dear?"

Maura Isles could barely hear her mother through the fog. The young doctor had been putting up these walls while pretending to be sociable at galas, openings, ceremonies, and parties of every shape and size for almost thirty years now. At these blessed gatherings, Constance Isles was not her mother – she was hostess. She played a role that always seemed to inflate herself at her own daughter's expense. They were both aware of the arrangement, but they never acknowledged it. It just hung stagnant in the smothering air around them filled with the fumes of brandy and cigar smoke. Maura had become an expert at tuning it all out. Why did Constance suddenly expect her to listen now?

"Maura, dear? The Senator's wife eagerly awaits your response, I'm sure…"

"I've been offered the position of Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. I check in with the Boston Police Department tomorrow for my preliminary interview."

"Medical Examiner…" the Senator's wife repeated in a fearful tone. "Don't they…dissect and dispose of... dead bodies? How dreadful! I can't imagine a beautiful young woman such as yourself handling such…things."

"Exactly what I told her," Constance chimed in. "And often times they're bodies of dirty criminals!"

"All that blood and guts everywhere…how ill-fitting a job for you, Maura. Tragic, really, if you ask me," added the Senator's wife.

They made little attempt to stifle their laughter, and beneath their haughty snickering, Maura managed to slip in, "Not any more tragic than this party…"

Maura bypassed their judgmental looks and grabbed the last glass of champagne off of a nearby serving tray and downed it. She had to get out of here. Sometimes it was impossible to breathe in air so completely contaminated with ego. She pushed past clumps of glittering bodies and made a beeline for the winding staircase and the front door down below. There was no way she'd be able to survive the night here in her parents' latest mansion of a townhouse. If she could just find a car to drive in to the city, she'd check in to her hotel early. Her mother would just have to find away to inflate herself without her.

A butler dressed in a white suit approached her on her way to the staircase. "Excuse me, Miss Isles?"

"Yes?"

"There's a phone call for you. A Mr. Faulkner says he's been trying to reach you all afternoon."

"Ian?" Maura hadn't heard from her best friend since... well, a long time. What could he possibly be calling for now? She forgot her hurried getaway momentarily and blinked herself back to reality to give the man her reply, "Thank you, I'll take it on the landing."

As she descended the first flight of winding stairs, Maura recalled all that she had helped her mother design in this house, and she had practically created this little alcove on the second floor landing for her personal use. She picked up the receiver on the classic white rotary phone and noted that she could almost feel her blood glucose levels rising.

She swallowed hard before beginning quite confidently, "Dr. Faulkner?"

"Maura!" came the familiar rugged and Australian-accented voice. "I thought I'd never reach you."

"Yes, so I've heard. Unfortunately I've been busy tending to yet another of my mother's soirees…"

"Ah yes, Constance Isles – 'Republican Party Extraordanaire' as I recall."

They chuckled at their inside joke from their two semesters at Boston Cambridge University together - a memory that gave Maura bittersweet feelings of regret. But there was no time to rehash all of that now.

"Listen, Ian, it's so great to hear from you, but I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a rush. What can I do for you?"

"Oh, right…well eh, I was hoping you'd be able to help me, out, Maur."

Maura bit her lower lip as she leaned against the white wall of the alcove.

"How so?"

"Well, after I went back to England to finish my schooling, I had every intention of becoming a pediatrician and starting my practice in London, but then a pal of mine came back from a semester in Ethiopia and told me he was sold on starting a relief practice out there because they were so desperately in need of medical aide. That's where I'm calling you from now, Maura. So far, it's just me and Trevor here with a few local nurses who aren't certified to do much more than take a blood pressure reading, so…we were – I was hoping you'd be willing to come out for a while and lend us a hand. That is, if you're not already tied up at the moment."

Maura closed her eyes and sighed. Something about this offer to be the Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts had intrigued her, even though she was overqualified for the position. But right now, she wanted nothing more than to put as much distance between her and her mother as humanly possibly. And it would be nice to see Ian again…for a worthy cause.

"I…well no, I'm not really tied up, per se. I did have another job offer here in Boston, but I haven't officially taken it yet."

"Oh Jesus Maur, really? I never dreamed you'd say yes. When can I fly you out? It will be just lovely to see you. To work with you again…for old time's sake."

Maura closed her eyes again. She knew that tone all too well. That nostalgic quality was all part of Ian's charm. One of the major parts that Maura still kicked herself for turning down.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Ian."

"Hey, love…let's not worry about that, okay? We're friends, right?"

The corners of Maura's mouth turned into a bright smile. "Right," she replied.

"Then that's all we need. Besides, I'm sure it's much easier for girls to understand your shoe fetish anyway."

This warranted Maura's rich laugh. Ian did always know how to make her do that.

"Oh believe me," she added, "it has its perks…"

"Right. Well, call me when you have all that Boston business settled, okay?"

"Will do," she said, still beaming. Ian really was a great guy.

"Bye, love."

Maura was in another world as she stepped away from the phone and out of the alcove. She had barely been able to process hearing from Ian after three years when she ran straight into another blast from the past heading right up the stairway toward her.

"Dr. Isles…speak of the devil!" The young woman said with a wink.

"Susan? Oh my God! You look…incredible! How have you been these past few months?"

"Just getting along slowly but surely without your brilliance and beauty in my life," she said in a teasing tone, sidling up to the Doctor and placing her hands on her hips and pressing her lips to her cheek.

"Susie, please…not here. My mother could turn up at any minute."

"Ah, so you're still playing that game. Hiding it all from Mommy and Daddy. How old are you now? Thirty-two?"

Maura narrowed her eyes at Susie and replied cooly, "No comment." That one had nearly left a mark. Maura knew she was much too professional to still be keeping her sexuality a secret from anyone, but frankly she just didn't want her mother to know. She wasn't sure that she could face that much rage. What's more, Constance may even attempt to ruin her career. Maura had worked too hard to allow that to happen. But tonight, she found herself thinking about her personal life for the first time in quite a while. She had allowed the threat of her mother's disapproval to prevent her own happiness for far too long. Perhaps that was all about to change.

Maura caught Susan staring at her in the silence and proceeded to break it with a burning question. "Susie, can I ask you something?"

"Anything for you, Dr. Isles."

"When we were seeing each other, did you speak to my therapist more than you spoke to me?"

Her response came almost too quickly. "…he was one of my bridesmaids."

That was all Maura needed to hear. With a knowing and shameful nod, she answered, "Right. It was wonderful to see you again Susan. I wish you and your wife…?"

"Jessica."

" – yes. I wish the two of you only the best. I have to run." She pressed a farewell kiss to Susan's cheek and darted down the stairs as she saw a chartreuse dress that looked rather like the ugly one Constance Isles was wearing streak through the crowd above them.

"MAURA ISLES!"

Time to go.

Once out on the front walk, Maura looked around frantically for an escape vehicle. Judging from the reverberation of the sound waves, her mother was still on the staircase. If she hurried, she could get away in time to avoid another confrontation.

Before she could panic, a valet pulled her father's new Aston Martin around the circular drive. She remembered how he had been particularly excited about this one. That is, excited enough to email her a picture of it when he purchased it in London and had it sent over. Gunmetal finish, sleek black leather interior, and classic manual shift. This would be the perfect getaway car.

She smiled and took the keys from the valet, who simply nodded and opened the front door for her, assuming her father had ordered it around for her. He would miss it, she knew that for certain. But as she looked into the rearview mirror and saw her mother frantically attempting to flag her down, Maura realized that was why she had taken it.

Maura was also becoming acutely aware of the fact that she had never driven a stick shift. But, seeing as this was her only ticket out of town, she shrugged it off and turned on the radio to drown out the old memories that threatened to flood in. From the sounds of the keyboard synthesizer, she could only assume that she was tuned in to a 1980s hit station. She cruised through the wrought iron gate with her family seal displayed proudly and meditated with the lyrics of the lively song.

I'll get over you

I know I will

I'll pretend my ship's not sinking

And I'll tell myself I'm over you

I'll be the king of wishful thinking

Punching in her destination into the GPS, Maura saw the LCD screen tell her there were twenty-three miles between her and the City of Boston. She'd spend a week there that the BPD had planned for her to be courteous. After all, she did still have a reputation to uphold, even if she was taking it all the way to Ethiopia. She allowed herself to take a deep, cleansing breath, and on the exhale she said, "One week. That's all it is."

She was going to need another drink.

…

"WELCOME TO BOSTON! Everybody's got a dream. What's your dream?"

Jane rolled her eyes as the clearly insane man made his way down the street across from her and Kit for at least the third time. His senseless shouting was beginning to give her migraine.

"Really? This guy again? Oh for the love of…" Jane trailed off as she noticed the short and stocky dark skinned man stop directly across from them. Was he staring? Oh god. He's totally staring.

"Oooh, we got us a tall shot of Vanilla up on the Boulevard tonight!"

Jane shuddered and hid her face as the man with the reggae inspired stocking cap came sauntering toward them.

"Eh, Rondo," Kit finally chimed in, "Lemme give you a little geography lesson: This 'ere's Berkeley Street. There ain't a Boulevard in sight and you know it."

"Whoa, chillax, baby. Old Rondo's just trying to get him a little bit of Vanilla, ya know? So, what's this one gonna set me back?"

Rondo leaned in a little too close and Jane wished he had chosen to bypass the onions at dinner. If she was going to be putting up with this type of shit, she really should be getting paid big bucks by the hour.

"Eh, watch it, Romeo," Kit pushed Rondo back with a strong hand and leaned right into his face to tell him implicitly, "Vanilla is with me, and you'll be calling her Tiffany from now on. Got it?"

Rondo's reeking smile faded instantly into a droopy frown. "What, you sayin' she's…with you? Like, we talkin in the Thelma and Louise sorta way?"

"Yes, Rondo. We're on a special assignment tonight, so you'd better head on down to some other corner. Best of luck."

"Yeah, yeah…" he sulked in dejection and gave Jane one more look over. As he walked away and back down the alley, he muttered, "Ya know, I oughtta get me one of them special informant jobs. Got all kinds of perks…"

…

Maura began to get the sense that she had missed a turn somewhere. She had been to Boston many times before, but rarely had she driven herself. But she could usually count on her own navigational skills, especially with the aide of a Global Positioning System. This street didn't look familiar at all, and yet she knew she had followed the directions turn by turn. Surely she hadn't had that much to drink. There had to be some kind of glitch in the system.

Maura began to look around and she saw a woman just ahead taking her trash out to the curb. The doctor slowed and came to a stop as the woman lifted the trash can lid and tossed the bag inside.

"Excuse me," Maura called out her window, "but could you tell me if I've made it to Boston? I'm trying to find the Four Seasons Hotel, but it seems I've taken a few wrong turns."

"Boston?" the woman replied incredulously after a long pause.

Maura nodded.

"Well you're here, hon! That's Paul Revere's house right over there!" the woman chuckled, pointing haphazardly down the street.

Okay, Maura thought, this woman might not be the best source of information.

"Actually," Maura politely quipped, "Paul Revere's home is located on the North Side of Boston, and while I may be lost, I can tell from the architectural style of the surrounding buildings that I'm nowhere near the North Side. But thank you anyway for your help. Have a pleasant evening!" Maura pulled away quickly for fear that she might be carjacked in a neighborhood like this one.

Angela Rizzoli sighed as she made her way back up the front walk. Why couldn't Jane just face the facts and settle down with a smart, beautiful young lady like that? She'd have to have a talk with her later. And she hoped to god that her daughter wasn't out there tackling some drug dealer in an alley. What was a poor mother to do?

…

"Kit…I don't think I can do this," Jane sulked. She perched on a nearby park bench and let her head sink into her hands. How the hell had she gotten herself into this mess?

Just days earlier, she had been standing next to Korsak in Cavanaugh's office, blinking at him in disbelief. She had assumed he was finally calling her up to take the open detective position she so desperately wanted, but as it turns out, her last assignment in the drug unit was to be the most insane one yet.

"I'm sorry, I think I just hallucinated. You want me to do what?"

"Look Rizzoli, I know it sounds crazy, but we really need this girl. My sources tell me that she's receiving offers from other precincts left and right. It's been years since we've had a Chief Medical Examiner competent enough to get us the right answers when we need them."

Korsak chimed in, "Frankly, Dr. Pike sucks," he looked down and picked up the file on the table that displayed an alluring yet somewhat snobbish looking woman on the cover. Jane swore under her breath and ran her hands through her hair, pacing herself into a corner. Korsak continued, "We need Dr. Maura Isles, Jane. And we need you to help us get her."

"So what are you saying? That I'm just supposed to use my Drug Unit persona you so graciously blessed me with to play bait for some miracle lesbian doctor because you think she'd be great for the job? What about me? Aside from the fact that I'm less than comfortable with this whole thing you've got going here, I really don't think I'm the type that a woman like this would go for."

Korsak and Cavanaugh had looked at each other simultaneously, and their expressions said it all. Great, Jane thought, I attract raging lesbians. That's just swell. I guess I should go apologize to all those guys I beat up in middle school.

"Look Jane, Korsak leveled with her, "I understand how you feel. But if this works, it all might be worth your while." He shot a look back to Cavanaugh who clasped his hands behind his back and shuffled his feet, slowly making his way around the desk.

"Rizzoli, if you don't screw this up for me, I'm prepared to offer you a slot up here in the bullpen. Sound fair?"

Jane shifted and crossed her arms as Cavanaugh extended his hand to shake on the offer. She sighed heavily. Words could not express how much she didn't want to do this, and yet…she had wanted this job practically her entire life and now she was one handshake away from making her dream come true.

"Jane?" Korsak prodded.

Did she really have a choice?

"Okay. Before I shake on this hair-brained scheme of yours, what exactly do I have to do again?"

And that's how she found herself down on Berkeley Street in downtown Boston waiting for some millionaire doctor to roll in so she could lay on the charm. When she lifted her head back up, Kit was smiling at her.

"Don't sweat it, kid. You're gonna do just fine if you remember what I told ya." Kit gave her a pat on the back and they both looked back out on the street, watching the cars drive by. One red convertible full of frat boys slowed as it went past, and as the catcalls began to fly, Jane became acutely aware of just how little clothing she was wearing.

"Ey Kit, how 'bout a freebie? It's my birthday!"

"Dream on!" she shouted back at them as they zoomed away.

Jane was so glad she didn't have to do this alone. She had spent the past few days with Kit De Luca, a real prostitute who the feds turned a blind eye to because she was such an excellent informant. They had even saved her from the clutches of an extremely possessive pimp named Carlos who liked to throw his less cooperative possessions into dumpsters. Jane's time with Kit had proven reassuring and even enjoyable at times. Although she had hated all of the lingerie and costume shopping, she now had a greater respect for all the shit that these… working ladies put up with. And Kit had put up with a lot of it.

"Okay," Jane began, "so recapping…Cavanaugh has it on good authority that Dr. Isles stops here at Laurel for 'First Fridays' occasionally."

"If by good authority you mean yours truly, then yeah. I've seen her in there a time or two on Laurel's night for ladies only…she usually doesn't leave alone, either."

"Right…" Jane swallowed hard. "So, if she does stop here, I'm supposed to follow her in and…flirt with her." Jane winced at the thought. This was so not what she signed up for when she took the oath.

"You got it. Oh, and when I spoke to Vince about fifteen minutes ago inside the bar, he said one of their guys saw her leave the party at her parents' place right around 9:15. That should put her here about…eh you got the time, Vanilla?" She winked and cackled at her new friend, and Jane cracked a smile, pulling her cell phone out of her ridiculous pleather boots that came up past her knee.

"That's Tiffany, to you Kit Teluca. I've got 10:02."

"Yikes, she could be here any minute then. She'll be driving a silver Aston Martin."

"Nice…" Now Jane was hearing the Bond theme song in her head, and she had to admit, she was a little curious about this mystery woman. A tiny picture paper-clipped to the front of someone's file didn't tell you much about them. Maybe this Doctor Isles would be sensual and glamorous…like a Bond girl.

Was it hot out here?

Jane snapped herself back to reality and she let her skeptical nature take over. "So, what makes Cavanaugh so sure that the doctor is going to stop by this bar tonight just because she's come here before? What if she decides to turn in early?"

Kit smiled and chuckled a bit as she replied, "They got her license plate number and hacked into her GPS while she was leaving her parents' place. The Four Seasons has temporarily relocated to Berkeley Street for the evening!" she cackled.

"Is that so…" Jane husked as she found herself succumbing to her nerves. She pulled at her tube top and readjusted her itchy bobbed blonde wig. Suddenly as she remembered the doctor's picture again, she became extremely self-conscious.

"Hey Kit, do I look like Carol Channing?"

Her hooker friend scoffed and replied, "No way! This is a great look for you."

And then came the headlights.

"Oh yo, oh yo, catch this! That's her, Jane! That's Doctor Isles. Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Look at that car!"

Jane was frozen stiff and she hadn't even seen her yet. The windows were tinted – illegally, in fact, but somehow she didn't think Cavanaugh would be interested in bringing his golden girl in for a minor infraction at the moment.

Kit hissed at her as the car rolled even closer, "Jane, you're gonna lose her! Do something! It's now or never, kid."

Before she could even register what her body was doing, Jane stepped out to the curb right in front of the car and propped her long, toned leg up on the bench, cocking her hip and giving the doctor her best pose.

The hot rod came to a screeching halt. Jane's heart stopped. She turned to Kit like a deer in the headlights, and begged her for an answer.

"Just play it cool! Go up to her window."

"And say what?" Jane pleaded desperately.

"JUST DO IT!"

Jane turned around and attempted to center herself with a shaking breath. Slowly but surely, she made her way toward the passenger window. She heard Kit behind her egging her on, but her voice was so far away at a mere seven feet that she might as well have been underwater. It sounded something like, "That's it, work it baby! Work it, own it!"

Work it. Yeah right. Jane could barely even hobble in these stiletto boots. As she approached the window, she braced herself for the knock.

"All right, Jane. It's now or never…" she coached herself.

It must have been someone else that placed the two solid raps on the window which promptly descended because it definitely wasn't Jane's voice that she heard coming out of her own mouth, crooning, "Hey sugar, you lookin' for a date?"

But when she saw the gorgeous face that held a brilliant pair of blue eyes, Jane Rizzoli knew she was in way over her head.