Chapter 1: Amy

Amy Bennett sat straight-backed in the salon chair, her long blonde hair newly styled, swept back elegantly into a loose bun with a few golden tendrils framing her face, her white skin, drained of blood. Her pale blue eyes stared, still wide with surprise but now vacant, her mouth slightly open as if about to protest. Partially dried, sticky trails of dark red stained her white silk shirt, flowing from the gash in her neck, down her arms, across her chest, dripping from her dangling fingers and pooling in the chair and on the floor.

Jane pulled the car up to the crime scene and Maura exited rapidly, her brow furrowed in consternation as she continued the argument they'd been having.

"Well if you don't want me to grab the wheel perhaps you should pay more attention to the road."

"I was giving the road my full attention- I had things completely under control, Maura."

"You nearly hit that pedestrian."

"Yeah- because you grabbed the goddamn wheel!" Jane's voice rose a defensive octave.

"You had your shirt over your head."

Korsak and Frost exchanged a look as the bickering couple reached them.

"I hate it when she undresses and drives," Maura grumbled to Korsak by way of explanation.

"Ah," he responded sympathetically, earning him a glare from Jane. He quickly shifted the conversation. "Body's inside. Vic's name is Amy Bennett. She was found by one of the employees when they opened up this morning. Looks like she was stabbed with a pair of hairdressing scissors."

"That sounds like speculation, Detective Korsak" Maura quickly interjected. "I'll need to do an examination before we can conclude anything definitively."

Ignoring Maura's interruption Jane continued her conversation with Korsak. "She was a client?" she asked as she pulled her dark curls back into a rough ponytail.

Korsak nodded, "A regular. She came in a couple days ago for her usual styling."

"Who needs their hair done twice in a week?" Jane questioned incredulously, giving a disparaging look to the half-manicured customers with their hair in various stages of dressing who were gathered outside the salon.

"Lez Ciseaux is a very elite salon!" Maura responded as Jane grabbed the door with habitual chivalry and followed the medical examiner inside. "I'm sure a lot of their clients frequently attend events and fundraisers where they have to look their best. I've been trying to make an appointment for months but their wait list is so long!"

"Well I'd say it's about to get a damn sight shorter when word gets out that their clientele are being scissored to death," Jane replied wryly.

Frost snorted in amusement and Jane looked over to see Korsak chuckling too.

"What?"

"Nothing, just an... interesting choice of words, all things considered," Frost informed her, still snickering.

"Ok girls, when you're done with your giggling d'you wanna tell me what's going on?" Jane sad in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

Korsak looked shifty. "Oh it's just that a lot of the stylists and clientele are women who prefer female company."

"Really?" Jane looked from one to the other incredulously. "What are you, twelve? C'mon."

Korsak coughed and struggled to regain some professionalism. "Body's this way," he said, leading them into a separate room at the back of the salon.

Blood arced across the three mirrors along the wall facing the salon chairs, originating from the far chair which now sat in a pool of inky blackness.

"That's quite the blood spatter. Must've hit a main artery," Jane remarked as she surveyed the scene, noting a stained pair of hairdressing scissors sitting on the stand next to the chair. "That the murder weapon?"

"Well I couldn't possibly say definitively at this stage," Maura prefaced as she examined the wound in the woman's neck, ignoring Janes sigh of frustration. "However it would appear that she was stabbed with an extremely sharp, narrow blade. The width and depth of the wound would seem to be consistent with a pair of scissors, but i'll have to run further tests to say for sure."

Jane rolled her eyes at this characteristic unwillingness to state the obvious. "God forbid we should jump to any conclusions."

"It would seem that the wound was inflicted from a high angle, directly above the victim," Maura extrapolated, standing behind the chair and raising her arm to demonstrate, "and the weapon was brought down swiftly with a high degree of force and accuracy."

"Easy there Hitchcock," Jane raised an eyebrow at the perhaps slightly too enthusiastic stabbing demonstration.

"Oh no this wasn't a frenzied attack," Maura corrected. "There's just one stab wound, which suggests targeted premeditation."

"That would be your guess?" Jane needled her, barely suppressing a smirk.

Maura just narrowed her eyes and refused to take the bait. "Based on the evidence, I would surmise that this was not a crime of passion. Inflicting a wound like this would require a well-practiced hand. It looks like the weapon struck the subclavian artery."

Jane raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Oh yes of course, the subclavian." She prompted when Maura didn't elaborate, "And that's important because..."

"It's a very difficult artery to hit," Maura explained, ignoring Jane's impatient tone. "It's the junction of the neck and the clavicle, and so it's protected by the clavicle and the first rib," she indicated on her own exposed neck and chest where the artery would run. "Difficult to target but almost impossible to recover from without a trauma team standing by. She would have bled out in under a minute."

"Huh..." Jane mused, looking quickly away from Maura's chest, where her gaze had lingered a little too long after the demonstration. "So we're looking for a professional."

"Someone with close combat training," Maura agreed.

And the ability to wield a pair of scissors for styling as well as stabbing," Jane indicated the perfectly coifed victim. "Who found her?"

Frost checked his notepad. "Mandy Tyson. She's out front with a uni making a statement. The other girls were getting their clients started in the main salon and she found the vic when she came back here to get the room set up for colouring. Said when she cleaned up last night everything was fine. Everyone left as usual and she locked up around 9."

"I'd estimate time of death at somewhere around eight hours," Maura chipped in.

"So sometime after lockup last night, Amy Bennett showed up, had her hair done, and was stabbed in the neck by a professional hitman-stylist?" Jane frowned as she walked back to the front of the salon with Frost and Korsak, leaving Maura to finish examining the body.

Frost quickly located the stylist who had found the victim and she was relayed the details of the gruesome discovery to the detectives.

"Is it common for clients to come to the salon after hours?" Jane asked her.

"Only if they come to see Shane," the woman snorted derisively.

"Shane?" Jane asked.

"Shane McCutcheon," Frost clarified, flipping through his notebook, "the manager."

He nodded over to where a tall woman was talking to a uniform. She was raking a hand through her short dark hair and shifting nervously she she spoke, crossing and uncrossing her arms.

"You don't like her?" Jane turned back to the stylist, referencing her tone.

"Oh yea, everyone loves Shane. The owner loved her so much she bought her this salon," the woman smiled bitterly and shook her head. "You work your ass off to land a new client, and then they meet Shane, and bam. Suddenly they're only interested in Shane touching their hair- and I don't think it's just her styling skills they're interested in."

Just then Maura entered the main salon and stopped suddenly, her eyes narrowed, head cocked. Jane frowned trying to figure out what had caught her attention as Maura started to walk purposefully towards the salon manager.

"Maur...?" Jane stared as her friend walked past without explanation.

The skinny woman talking to the officer glanced up as Maura approached, and Jane saw her demeanour change completely as a look of surprised recognition crossed her face.

"Maura?" she exclaimed, the uniform taking her statement forgotten as a wide smile spread across her face and she stepped forward to envelop Maura in a bear hug.

Jane exchanged puzzled looks with Frost and Korsak.

"Looks like your friend is just as taken with our Shane as everyone else," Mandy laughed, humorlessly.

Frowning, Jane quickly turned back to where the star-stylist was standing with Maura. She noted the hand that lingered on Maura's hip, and that Maura's hand remained on the woman's arm, though she pulled back as Jane approached and moved to allow the detective to join the conversation, still smiling broadly.

"Friend of yours?" Jane asked with a tense smile. She wasn't a fan of Maura's habit of hugging suspects.

"Jane, this is Shane, we're old school friends!" Maura explained excitedly.

"Elite private boarding school?" Jane clarified, doubtfully taking in Shane's tousled short hair, her untucked white shirt rolled up to the elbows to reveal tattooed arms, and her faded black jeans. Jane raised an eyebrow at Maura, who could not have looked like a more unlikely companion in her knee-length maroon designer dress, tailored blazer and $600 heels.

Shane picked up on Jane's incredulity. "No, I went to a shitty public school," she smiled knowingly at Maura, "when I actually went to school. Some of the private school kids would come in once a week to do their bit for the poor, underprivileged members of society. You know- try to make up for massive underfunding and structural inequality by donating their years of prep-school wisdom to the needy."

Shane gave Maura a knowing smile. "I think most of those kids got the shit kicked out of them the first week and never came back. Except Maura- she showed up every week. Tutored me in chemistry. Pretty sure she's the only reason I stayed in school as long as I did."

"Oh it was the least I could do! You spent so long styling my hair. Shane was always wonderful at doing hair." Maura continued the story for Jane's benefit, but was gazing at Shane in a way that made the detective shift uncomfortably.

"That's probably why I stuck with the tutoring, to be honest. You always had beautiful long hair," Shane responded, her voice low and suggestive. She reached out to brush a lock of Maura's gold tresses back from her eyes and murmured, "You look great, by the way".

Shane was all unselfconscious swagger and ease. Maura smiled bashfully.

"And now you're the manager of an elite salon with a dead client in your colouring room!" Jane said loudly, breaking the tension.

Maura gave Jane a look which the detective ignored

"Yea this is..." Shane clasped her hands together on top of her head as she surveyed the scene, exhaling deeply. "I just can't believe it. Amy was such a sweet woman- I can't believe anyone would want to hurt her."

"How well did you know the victim?"

"She's been coming to the salon for about a year. She was one of Stacey's clients originally but she recently switched to me."

"Stacey didn't mind you taking her clients?" Jane asked.

Shane shrugged. "The clients usually get what they want."

"From what I hear, Amy wasn't the first to switch over to you. You have a bit of a reputation for taking on the other girls' clients."

Shane studied Jane for a moment, before narrowing her eyes and responding evenly, "Maybe they just prefer what I do for them."

Jane was unphased. "And what exactly do you 'do' for them?"

Shane just smiled in response. Jane's face tightened, irritated. "Were you sleeping with the victim?"

"We hooked up a few times, yeah."

"And do you offer the full service to all your clients?"

"Jane!" Maura butted in, shocked.

Shane just smiled. "I'm a professional, detective. I didn't come from much, but I worked hard to get to where I am. I'm sure someone like you can appreciate that."

"Someone like me?"

"I get the feeling this isn't so much your crowd either," Shane nodded towards the cluster of salon clients in designer clothes just like Maura's, clutching their bags and delicately dabbing at their eyes as they surveyed the scene in scandalized horror.

Jane turned back to Shane, irritated at being put in her place, as the stylist continued.

"A lot of beautiful women patronize this salon. I like beautiful women; I like to make them feel beautiful. They come in here wanting to feel better about themselves and they leave happy and confident. And sometimes if we get along, we might see each other outside of work."

"You ever meet clients here after hours?"

"Not Amy."

"And where were you last night?" Jane took a slightly menacing step closer. Maura eyed her warily.

"At The Planet. It's a bar downtown. My friend was doing a show there. Went home with my roommates around 2."

"We're gonna need some names," Jane responded, not breaking her steely gaze.

"I was just giving them to this nice gentleman here," Shane indicated the uni who was hovering nervously. "If that's all, I've got a business to try and rescue, and I have to tell the owner about this mess."

"We'll need to speak with her as well."

"Fine," Shane sighed impatiently. "I've given you all the details. Do what you gotta do."

Shane's dismissive tone grated on Jane. "Don't go anywhere Ms. McCutcheon." She started to encourage Maura back towards the car with a hand on her back. "C'mon Maura, you've got an autopsy to do."

"It's good to see you, Maur," Shane called after them. "I'll call you."

Maura smiled bashfully again.

"Really?" Jane muttered as soon as they were out of earshot. Maura just looked confused as Jane rolled her eyes and stomped back to the car.

They drove back to the station in silence, Maura smiling to herself. She hadn't seen Shane since they were children. It had been years since she'd even thought of her. And yet here she was in Boston, that skinny little runaway kid who would sneak out of her abusive foster parents' house and into Maura's, hiding from Ms. Patterson, the austere and distant nanny who would take care of her during her parents' long trips away. She and Shane had forged an unlikely friendship; two scared and lonely teenagers, one isolated by her awkwardness and introversion, the other too hostile and feral for anyone to get close to. Something about Maura's clumsily expressed sincerity had spoken to Shane, whose prickly exterior sheltered a warm heart and a scarred soul. Maura had everything, and Shane had nothing, but they were both still so alone. Seeing that in each other brought understanding, compassion, and a tentative closeness.

Maura would go to bed at night in her big empty house, breathless with anticipation, waiting to see if she'd hear the familiar patter of stones bouncing off her window, signalling for her to slink downstairs in stealthy slippered feet, muscles tensed for any sound of the house stirring, heart pumping, adrenaline coursing through her veins in anticipation of the forbidden liaison, and in fear of the state Shane might arrive in. Often she would wear a triumphant grin when Maura quietly unlatched the back door to let her confidently swagger in, and they'd sneak back upstairs and Maura would gleefully smother her giggles as Shane regaled her with the exaggerated tales of latest jailbreak.

But once or twice she had been quiet, fearful, even bloodstained. And Maura, heartbroken for her friend, had scooped her up and led her upstairs to bed, where she stroked Shane's hair and whispered softly til she fell asleep, grateful for the trust that was placed in her, for the secret they shared, for the kinship in an otherwise lonely existence.

Jane worried her lip as she drove, glancing over at Maura who was simply smiling dreamily. Finally she couldn't take the silence any more.

"So Shane's a character," Jane's voice cut into Maura's thoughts.

Maura smiled, "Yes she is."

"Her clients certainly seem to like her," Jane continued, a raw nerve sounding in her voice.

"She's quite the charmer," Maura responded simply. She seemed about to fall silent again but then she smiled broadly. "I haven't seen her in years. Not since we were about thirteen years old. She used to sneak into my house at night and we'd have sleepovers."

"What did your parents think of that?" Jane asked knowingly.

"Oh they were never around. They were often away on various trips. But even when they were home they didn't really notice who I spent time with."

Jane couldn't help herself. "Maura, you two didn't...?"

"What? No!" Maura looked appalled and Jane felt relief flooding through her. "We were children!"

Ok maybe not so relieved. "So what does that mean, that you would've if you'd been older?"

"She was my best friend." Even with her eyes fixed on the road Jane could hear Maura rolling her eyes, but then her tone became almost wistful. "She was my only friend. We were both... very lonely. And I didn't know what I wanted then- we were so young. I was just glad I'd found someone who seemed to understand me."

Maura became quiet again and Jane risked a glance. Her friend wore a nostalgic expression and looked very far away. It gave Jane an odd sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She started to worry her lip again.