Prologue

Jane stood nervously in the airport waiting for her little brother to pick her up. She left her hometown of Boston ten years ago in her twenties, with no intention of returning. There were too many things she needed to forget, and she had to get away in order to do that.

"Well, you haven't changed at all in ten years, have you?" a male voice said.

Jane whipped around and smiled. Standing in front of her was her little brother. He was sporting his cop uniform with a goofy smile on his face.

"That badge make you feel special Frankie?" Jane asked smiling and nudging him in the shoulder. Out of all the people she left behind, her brother was the one she missed the most. They had always had a special connection. Frankie understood Jane. Sometimes she thought he was the only one.

"It's good to see you Janie," Frankie said, grabbing her suitcase and walking towards the exit. Jane grimaced at the nickname. He was the only one allowed to call her that, but she hated it with a fiery passion.

They walked back to the car silently. She never thought she would be back here. She had made a life for herself in New York City. A life that she was proud of. She had the Boston Police transfer her over to the New York detective unit, and lived in a studio apartment facing Central Park. She was finally happy and free of her past. But when she got a phone call from her mother saying that her father was sick and she should come home, Jane had no other choice.

"Well well well, it looks like detective Jane Rizzoli is weaker than she makes herself seem."

The haunting voice rang in Jane's head as they drove by the once familiar buildings. She shivered and pulled her legs closer to her chest. Looking out the passenger window, she closed her eyes and tried hard not to think about what had happened to her all those years ago.

She must have fallen asleep, because when she opened her eyes again Frankie was pulling her suitcase out of the trunk. She got out of the car and looked at her home. It was a typical Greek Italian house with a cross on the door and blue shutters. Growing up, Jane and Frankie didn't have much. Their father was a plumber, their mother was a stay-at-home mom, and they lived in a neighborhood where kids would get jumped for looking at someone the wrong way. Jane spent most of her time hanging with her brother and his friends, playing basketball or soccer. She was fine with that. She had never been much of a girly girl, despite her mom's desperate attempts of getting her in a dress, which turned out all right since she had to be tough to be a cop.

"How is pop Frank?" She asked him. Immediately, his expression changed. He solemnly grinned and looked her straight in the eye.

"You know pop," he said, "He's a fighter."

As soon as Jane entered the house the smell of fresh garlic filled her nostrils.

"Smells good ma," Jane said entering the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge.

"Jane you're here!" Her mom dropped her wooden spoon and embraced Jane in a tight huge. "I missed you. It's about time you came back to your family where you belong."

Jane winced. It had been a while since her mom hugged her like that. She looked sad, and old. They had seen each other through the years whenever Jane got time off, but they had always gone to New York. She didn't know if it was because of her father's sickness, or because it really had been a long time since Jane saw her mother, but she looked much older than Jane remembered, and worry lines creased her forehead.

"Whoa ma, not so tight." Jane said, pulling away and studying her mother more closely. "Where's dad? I want to say hi."

"He's in the garage. He's so stubborn your father! The doctors tell him to stay in bed but he doesn't listen. He's going to make himself more sick and he will get no sympathy from me when he does." Her mom said it loud enough so that he would hear her.

Jane rolled her eyes and walked into the garage. She was used to seeing her father hard at work. Today, he was working on an old car that had been in the garage ever since Jane was a kid. She smiled at the sight.

"Still haven't given up on this old piece of junk I see." She leaned against the doorframe and watched her dad work. When he finally looked up from inside the hood to see who was talking to him, he grinned.

"Rizzoli's never give up," he said putting down his tools. It was something she had heard many times before. Jane's father taught her to be tough. When kids were bullying her in elementary school, he taught her to fight back. When she thought she wouldn't make it through police training, he told her that she was wrong and would be better than anyone else in the force. She never thought he would be right, but Jane had gone from being a rookie cop to one of the best detectives the Boston Police Department had ever seen, and she had her father to thank for never letting her give up.

"You look good dad," Jane said to him while they hugged.

"Liar," he laughed and led her back into the kitchen, "Come on, dinner smells like it's almost ready."

He looked at his daughter. She had changed so much in the last ten years. She was still sarcastic and witty, but she carried herself differently. There was wisdom in her eyes, and worry. She looked about the same, if not a little older and more experienced. He missed having her around and was happy to see her in his home again.

"It's good to have you home Jane," he said before closing the garage door behind him and entering the amazing smelling kitchen.

Jane didn't want to say it out loud for fear of hearing "I told you so" from everyone in her family, but it felt good to be home. She missed her mother's homemade Italian meals; she missed her father's humor and her brother's not so subtle jabs. Everything about Jane had changed in the 10 years she had been away from home, but nothing about her home had changed. It was refreshing.

As she was getting ready to go to sleep, her phone rang. Without looking at it, she picked it up and instinctively answered it as she always does.

"Rizzoli."

A familiar, yet unexpected voice greeted her on the other end of the telephone. It was one she hadn't heard in a long time, but she was happy to hear.

"Korsack," she said smiling "What can I do for you?"

"It's sergeant now," Korsack responded, "I heard you're in town. We'd love to have you back on our team Jane, you were the best."