Pinning Down the Boss

By Simahoyo

(I really like Jordan Cavenaugh, so here's another crossover. Suffolk County Coroner Jordan Cavenaugh's informants have let her know about something very interesting in Dr. Isles desk, so she drops by to see it for herself. I don't own the characters, and the real elected officials of Suffolk County and Boston are not represented herein.)

Boston, 1990. Jordan Cavenaugh was back at the Boston Medical Center, working in the emergency room. Getting fired again hadn't set well with her. She knew she was a pain in the butt, and was kinda proud of it. So, here she was back to basics to pay the bills. She looked at the board to see where her next appointment was. Then she walked confidently into the examination room.

There was a very worried looking mother pacing, hands shaking, and a small, blonde girl sitting on the exam table, shoulders hunched, face red. Could be any number of things.

The mother turned, and relief washed over her patrician features.

"Is my daughter alright? She just ran a car into a tree.", and her voice trembled.

God, typical teen, but she looked a bit small to be driving without a learner's permit.

Jordan looked down at her. She seemed fine, just very embarrassed.

"So what exactly happened?"

"I borrowed one of my Dad's sports cars, and I couldn't control it. I had observed him driving, and thought I could reproduce his results, but I should have lowered my optimal speed."

What? Some kind of kid genius, maybe. Jordan began her examination. She noticed some old scars here and there, mostly typical of an active kid. This one was adventurous. So was Jordan, even now. There really was no damage, but the look on her mother's face pleaded for more...

"Statistically, younger drivers tend to have poor eye- hand coordination, and a slower response time. You should wait until you are eighteen to drive."

"Eighteen. That's forever. Four whole years! I'll be in graduate school by then."

Jordan felt her eyebrows raise. "How old are you, exactly?"

"Fourteen years and three months."

"Then what you did was also illegal. I think your mother would like to have a talk with you about this little adventure of yours." Jordan glanced at the Mother, who looked greatly relived..

2012, Boston: Jordan Cavenaugh, Suffolk County Coroner, was waiting for Chief Medical Examiner Maura Isles. Her grapevine had brought a few things to her attention. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and watched the other MEs working on autopsies. They were very careful, and concise in their work. And there was no goofing off, which had been commonplace in her day.

Dr. Isles blew through the door, not seeing her.

"Hi. Sorry I'm late. The trial went on longer than promised. I'll be right back."

"Uh, Dr. Isles", said a tall man with dark hair and glasses. "The County Coroner is here to see you."

Jordan knew damn well no one on Isles' crew called her Doctor unless someone else was around.

She stopped lounging and stood up straight. Dr. Isles turned and jumped a bit.

"Hello. I didn't expect you. Is anything wrong?"

Jordan smiled inwardly. Power could be fun, if not really abused.

"Nothing major. Please, let's go into your office."

Dr. Isles' office was plain, book packed, and had one painting on the wall. Something modern but tasteful. There were two photos on the each end of her desk, one of the doctor and Detective Rizzoli, the other of Dr. Isles and an older woman, who looked somehow familiar. Probably her mother. There was another centered on her desk. Larger than the others, it showed Maura Isles, in a too-big-for-her bachelors's gown and mortarboard, holding a degree in one hand, and engulfed in a hug by a broadly grinning man. They looked at each other with doting. Jordan knew the Daddy's girl look. She'd had it herself years ago. She mentally yanked that drawer closed.

Maura put her coat and bag away, put on her lab coat and gestured to her boss to seat herself.

"What can I do for you?"

"You wouldn't be a very good criminal, since you do a lousy job of covering up your paper trail. So, I'm here to thank you for the new Protein Mass Spectrometer you donated to my office."

Maura's face reddened. "I uh, didn't intend for anyone to know. I hate to wait for results, so I was being a bit selfish."

"As cheap as our County, 'Commissar' is, I'm happy to have it."

Maura waited. Probably sensing there was more.

Jordan smiled. "Don't ask me how I found out, but I understand you have something interesting in your desk."

Maura looked puzzled. "Please specify. I need parameters."

"I believe they are representations of me and my uncle."

Maura opened her desk drawer, and handed Jordan a beautifully crafted voodoo doll of herself.

"I see I have yet to incur your wrath. What about Uncle Sean?"

Maura looked very uncomfortable, and handed over another beautifully made doll of Sean Cavenaugh, wearing a suit, tie and a big pin through his shoulder.

"You made these, I recognize the stitching. But I suspect you did not add the pin. Am I right?"

"No, I didn't."

"That has Rizzoli's touch. Don't answer, I already knew about it." Jordan waved one hand.

Maura was silent. She waited politely.

"Listen, when I got your job, I spent months–well, okay, more than a year, cleaning up after myself. I was cocky and full of myself, mad at the world, and a pain in the ass. Suddenly, I had to be the one responsible for all the other pain in the asses that worked for me. I expect you recognize the description. Rizzoli doesn't work for me, but anything you can do to help her contain her aggression is okay with me. The voodoo dolls were a good idea. Just keep your drawer locked. Got it?"

"I will. Thank you for allowing it. Jane needed to blow some steam off."

"By the way, I noticed the graduation picture. How old were you there?"

"Oh, eighteen. Why did you ask?"

"You looked a little small for the gown."

"That's the story of my life. I was always the youngest in my class. I couldn't wait to grow up and be on my own."

Something clicked in Jordan's mind.

"Have you ever been in an auto-accident? One car, one tree?"

Now Maura's blush was beet red. "How on earth did you know that?"

"You were fourteen, and swiped your dad's car. You weren't hurt, but your mother was coming apart. I was the doctor who saw you."

"And you told her to make me wait until I was eighteen before I should drive. She actually did that. I was beyond embarrassed, but I think you turned out to be right. I was always small for my age, and I did need to grow into the driver's seat. I never hit my full height until I was eighteen., So I should thank you, I guess."

"Maybe other drivers should,", and Jordan's voice held a note of teasing. "I have to go back and pretend to be a responsible adult. Tell your crew to relax. They do good work."

"Thank you."

Jordan walked out, pulling her cell phone from her pocket, and dialing.

"Hey, Uncle Sean. How's your shoulder? Yep, they were there, as reported. Rizzoli's just using it to hang onto her temper. I could have used one years ago... They look great, I'm thinking of special ordering one of the County Commissioner...The Mayor? Good idea. Yeah. See ya."

As Jordan passed the janitor mopping the floor, she took a ten dollar bill out of her pocket and handed it to him. "Good information. Thanks."