Title: Anna
Author: tika12001
Rating: T
Summary: Her name was Anna. She was killed when she was four years old. And she changed Jane Rizzoli's life.
Her name was Anna.
I feel myself choke up even as I tell you the name. She was so young. So young, so beautiful, so talented, and she had so much life left in her.
Murder doesn't care though.
A murderer will steal the life of whoever takes his or her fancy. They do not merely prey on those that have lived their life. They do not wait until a person has learned to ride a bike, kissed a boy, fallen in love, had a child. They do not care about what a person may have on their bucket list.
A murderer has their own sick agenda. The fact that the person they killed had a life worth living means nothing to them.
And so it was with Anna.
My first clue as to the heinousness of the crime was Korsak. He was doubled over at the waist, vomiting into a bush. I looked at him and felt coldness settle into my gut. It was quite common to see Frost being sick at a crime scene, but not Korsak.
Never Korsak.
My next clue was Maura. She was coming towards me, head down, and when she looked up at me, I could see the tears that had cascaded freely down her cheeks, the mascara that had smudged around her eyes.
I didn't look at anyone else after that. Just let Maura take my arm as we walked to the body. Gave comfort to her at the same time as she tried to lend strength to me.
Anna.
She was 4. Dressed in a pink leotard that had been almost completely torn from her body. The blood that covered her body didn't mask her clear complexion, the sweet red bow of her lips, the pinkness of her cheeks.
She was beautiful. She wanted to be a dancer when she grew up.
And now Anna was dead.
Instantly I felt tears building in my eyes and I looked up at the ceiling, trying to will them away. It didn't matter though. Everywhere I looked police officers were crying or being sick. Grown men. No one would be looking down on me for being an emotional woman today.
Child crimes are the worst of all.
When her parents came to identify the body, I didn't know what to say. I don't think I could have said anything even if I had thought of it.
But when the mother reached out to take my hand, I gripped it back just as tightly.
And when Maura had to give her a tranquiliser, I made a promise I would catch the creep that did this.
The story I tell you today has little to do with Anna's death however.
I caught her killer though, don't get me wrong. I kept my promise and got him thrown in jail. The only thing that stopped me from killing him myself was imagining what the other prisoners would do when they found out he had raped, beaten and murdered a little girl, barely out of her toddler years.
Even jails have levels of class. And people that hurt children will always be down the bottom of the heap.
But no, this story is not of her death. This story is of her spirit. Because, while that little girl may have had the life stolen from her tiny body, her spirit could not be taken away.
Anna had unfinished business.
And she was determined to finish that business with me.
R&IR&IR&I
My first sign that things were a little bit off centre came that night when I got home. I was mentally exhausted, physically drained, and felt like an emotional wreck. I was happy that we'd got another psychopath off the street, but sad when I thought of Anna, and devastated when I thought of her parents. I pressed a hand to my flat stomach and shook my head. How could I ever have children, knowing that I'd be bringing them into such a cruel world?
It didn't surprise me when I heard the knock at the door.
I think... I know... that Maura needed me just as much as I needed her right then. I had to get to the bottom of the crime, get inside the head of the murderer and figure it out, but Maura... she had to autopsy the child's body. Cut her small chest open in search of any forensic evidence that might assist me in doing my job.
She had to do a rape kit on a little girl.
When I opened the door, I didn't say anything and neither did she. She just held up the six-pack of beers like a gift, and I smiled wearily at her, taking her by the arm and pulling her inside.
When the light went out in the living room, it was just a minor nuisance. I left Maura on the couch and headed to the kitchen, hunting through the shelves and cupboards until I finally came up with a light bulb. When it almost seemed to leap out of my fingers and I heard the shattering inside the box as it hit the floor, I came to the conclusion I was just tired. I headed back to the living room wearily and sat down next to Maura in the near dark.
"Dropped the bulb?" she asked, and I nodded, throwing an arm over my eyes. "Never mind," she said, curling her legs up onto the couch and resting her feet in my lap. "It can be replaced tomorrow."
"Yeah," I agreed, putting my hand on Maura's ankle and rubbing it absentmindedly as I clicked play on the documentary she wanted to watch. I replaced the bulb the next day, and it didn't cross my mind again until five and a half months later, when I was putting all the pieces of the puzzle together.
The next thing that I can remember happening that seemed a little bit weird wasn't until three months down the track. I can't explain the long pause between the first and second incident, but Maura is of the belief that spirits have a certain amount of energy that they are able to use to change things on Earth. She believes that due to Anna being so new to the spirit world, causing my light to blow and my replacement bulb to shatter took a lot of the aforementioned energy, and she needed time to recover and to learn how to better siphon it off in small spurts. I tend to agree with Maura on that one, if only for the fact that I'm yet to come up with a better explanation. The amount of concentrated effort Anna seemed to put into improving my life tends to support the theory as well; I highly doubt that she would lose interest so quickly.
Anyway, as I was saying...
Three months later, I was rushing about getting ready for work. I had forgotten to set my alarm the previous night, so I'd woken up nearly 25 minutes late. Luckily, it didn't take me long to get changed, brush my teeth, drink my coffee (not necessarily in that order) and race downstairs, but as soon as I got to my car I stopped dead in my tracks. It looked slightly... lopsided? And it was getting more lopsided by the minute. I slowly walked around to the far side of my car and stared in disbelief as the tire visibly deflated in front of my eyes. I growled in frustration, going around the back of the car to get the spare, but as soon as the back was opened, I groaned again. The spare was flat too. I thought about calling road service, but found my fingers speed dialling Maura instead.
"Dr Isles," she answered crisply, and I smiled when I realized she hadn't checked the screen to see who was calling. I thought about playing a trick but when I caught sight of my tire again, that thought flew out of my head.
"My tire is flat," I whined into the phone.
Maura let out a small chuckle. "So, change it then."
"I can't," I complained, walking around in front of the offending item and glaring down at it.
"Why not?"
"The spare is flat too." I kicked the tire. "OW!"
"Kicking it will not reinflate the tire, Jane. You really must control your temper; you know it's not good for your blood pressure."
"Or my toes..." I whimpered, huffing when I heard Maura laugh.
"No, it would not be good for your toes either." I glowered into the phone, and Maura hastily changed the subject back to my car issue. "That's unfortunate about the spare, have you tried calling road service to come and assist you?"
"No..." I said, drawing out the word slowly and hoping she got the hint. I heard a sigh, some shifting of items on her desk, and finally the sound of keys clanking together.
"I'll be there in five minutes."
"Thank you, Maura," I smiled sweetly into the phone and I could almost hear the small smile and eye roll she sent back in my direction.
Maura ended up driving me to work every day that week, as every day I ended up having a different tire come up as flat. It puzzled the tire company no end, as there was absolutely nothing wrong with the wheels, no evidence of any tampering or damage to the rubber, and once reinflated, they held their air quite well. At the time it confused me greatly as well, but I also wasn't that concerned as it was fun driving to work with Maura. She listened to weird music and waffled on about random obscure facts way too early in the morning but she was also my best friend, and I loved spending time with her.
A week later, my key broke off in the lock. I thought about how else I could get into my apartment, gave it up as a lost cause and rang a locksmith. When he told me he couldn't be there till the following day, I called Maura again, and ended up staying at her place.
When it happened twice more in the next two weeks, I told Maura that I was pretty sure I was cursed, but I also took over one of Maura's chest of drawers to put some spare clothing and underwear in.
Two weeks after that, Maura and I were meant to go on a double date with two fellows she'd met at the hospital. A freak storm kept them away, and Maura and I ended up having dinner together, looking around awkwardly as we ate in the extremely romantic atmosphere. We rescheduled, but the next time we ended up needing to attend a homicide. The third time, both Maura's and my cars sported flats. The men didn't bother calling again.
Ian came into town again, and Maura ended up coming down with a vomiting bug, which apparently I was immune to. It disappeared the day he left.
When Casey came to visit, I was in bed sick with the flu, and Maura was looking after me. I too, miraculously recovered as soon as he went back to Afghanistan.
"What the hell is going on with us?" I exploded one day at Maura's place. She looked at me and shook her head.
"What do you mean?" she asked blankly, and I stared at her incredulously.
"Doesn't it just feel like... I don't know... the world has it out for us or something?"
Maura frowned and quirked her head on the side as she squinted up at me. "What?"
"Never mind," I muttered, flopping onto Maura's couch, "Maybe I'm just going crazy."
"I can do a CT scan if you like."
"Not helping."
END PART ONE