Disclaimer- Don't own the show. No profit had. Blah, blah, blah- to use technical jargon.
Chapter One:
It was late in the year for Boston City and bitterly cold outside. Late-afternoon sunlight brought with it no warmth, not even melting the frost swirling on the streets where traffic rumbled noisily. Noise that wasn't quite muffled by any level of building or thickness of brick.
Maura Isles let out a small moan as she awoke to it, not wanting to stir, but her alarm adding it's voice to the air, was insistent. Eyes still gummy with sleep, hands mussing up her caramel waves of hair in an attempt to push away sleep, she rolled over in bed. With one clumsy hand, she reached out for the bedside clock that was emitting such a horrid dissonance into the air where her head pounded. Instead, she ran into the wine glass beside it, knocking the thing over.
Shoving the silk sheets aside, she cursed, grabbing up the glass before absolutely everything could spill. Sitting the vessel upright, she shook the wine off her fingers and hit the alarm with the back of her wrist to shut the stupid thing up.
She was up.
Shaking her head, she sighed. A perfect start to a perfect day.
Her bare legs and feet froze as she slipped to the floor and padded to the washroom in order to retrieve a towel. She didn't want the liquid to have time to soak. After cleaning up the mess, crouching to get the stuff that had dripped to the wood floor, Maura got up to get ready, tossing the hand towel as she went. It took her an hour to shower, slip into matching underwear and a tight, form-fitting gray dress. One that let others see just a tease of her thighs and that cut low at her back. Her application of make-up made her eyes look smokey, her hair up in a braided french twist framed by several wisps so her graceful neck was exposed. She pulled a wrap across her exposed spine, draping it over her elbows and grabbed her clutch. Looking herself over in the mirror, she nodded once, satisfied.
Leaving the bathroom, she hopped a little as she pulled on her high heels, glancing at the clock. There wasn't time for her to eat, not now. She hurried through the hall to the front door, pausing only long enough to pull on her form-fitting ankle length coat. Once again leaving her single bedroom, high-rise apartment hungry. It didn't take her long to hail a cab and give the address to her destination.
-o-
It lit up the advancing dusk like a torch. The hotel was one of the nicest in Boston, with several stories, a footman at the door, and plush furnishings inside that were largely imported. To some of the residents, the building could be intimidating. Luckily, Maura knew places like this better than she knew her own apartment. She had spent most of her childhood growing up in one or another too.
So as she stepped out of the cab delicately, she merely nodded to the footman, who knew her on sight and held the door open for her with a nod. Her eyes surveyed the crowd as her steps took her straight into the hotel bar without preamble.
There was an old man sitting at one of the tables, reading a newspaper. A woman in her fifties was having a one-sided discussion with the bartender and the young worker in turn was nodding politely while he cleaned. A group of Asian men were arguing about something in loud voices, but she didn't bother trying to pick out what they were saying with her rusty knowledge of the language, though she did make a note to brush up on it at some point in the near future. A couple, maybe in their thirties, were trying to ignore each other in one corner.
Bypassing them all, Maura went to the bar and tapped the wood. "One, Paul." Removing her coat, she draped it over her chair and sat.
The bartender smiled to see her again and filled her up a glass of wine, passing it over in front of her on a clothe napkin.
She took it and sipped at it, closing her eyes as it dulled the slight headache that had been slowly growing in her skull since waking. There was nothing better for a hang-over than more wine.
A small smiled tilted her lips.
Setting down the glass, she straightened the wrap on her elbows and then settled down to wait.
Fortunately, it didn't take long.
The phone behind the bar rang and Paul picked it up, putting it to his ear and readying paper and pen. "Got it." He said after a moment of listening and scratching.
"Well?" She asked as he hung up.
He tore the single page off the pad and slid it over to her.
Giving him a grateful little smile, she took the paper, another deeper swallow of wine, and headed with her coat over one arm for the exit into the lobby. From there, she took an elevator up five floors and walked the hall till she came to one-five-one-eight. The corresponding number to the one in her hand, scrawled on the paper.
Without knocking, she put her hand on the latch and opened the door. Her heart fluttered, as it always did at this moment, but she knew better than to let it show. She swayed into the room like she owned it, setting her coat and clutch onto the dresser. Drawing the wrap around her shoulders, careful to make it cover her back, she took the few steps to the window and looked out on the city below.
It had begun to snow.
"Mary?"
Hearing the name, she tilted her head to look behind her and found a handsome, but slightly overweight man grinning at her nervously from the bathroom door.
In one glance, she took him in, raising one sultry eyebrow.
The man's forehead was slightly damp with perspiration, so he was nervous. He had a tick near his right eye and he kept his eyes in motion, particularly sliding them up her exposed legs, so he was clearly a skin man. He was also obviously new to this, if not the act, at least the setup. He would need a little care and attention.
She merely smiled, keeping her mouth shut. Silence was sometimes the greatest weapon she could wield and some men didn't like a lot of chatter. Turning back to the window, she let the wrap drop from one of her shoulders as though by accident.
It was more feeling than hearing, the way his breath caught. All the air in the room seemed to go still.
Keeping back a smirk, she waited patiently.
After a few starts and stops, he finally came to her, reaching a hand out to drag it down her smooth skin. He drew even closer to put his nose in her hair, breathing deep before murmuring that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
She raised her hands up over her head, placing her palms on the glass and told him to unzip her.