Trust
(An interstitial and explanatory deleted scene from "The Beast in Me")
My big complaint about this episode – which was all in all pretty good – was the transition between the last two scenes. How did they get from Mickey O'Rourke's body to the Robber throwing peanuts? There had to be a lot of tension there between Maura & Jane. Here's a take on how that gets resolved.
Maura signed the manifest releasing the body as the morgue techs strapped what was left of Mickey O'Rourke to the gurney. She lingered a moment over the bloody, faded photograph before handing it to Frost to bag as evidence. She walked over to Jane, who was supervising the crime scene photographer as he took shots of the bloodstains on the floor and the chair.
"Jane." The detective turned, surprised at the acerbic tone in that single word, to face Maura. Maura's face was frozen, immobile, but Jane could see the subtle signs of tension and anger that Maura was working hard to hide.
"Do you want to ride back with me?" Jane tried to speak lightly, but couldn't escape the vapor of accusation that hung between them.
"Yes. I think we need some privacy. Your car is as good as anywhere. Then you can take me home. I'll do the autopsy later this afternoon."
As they pulled out of the parking lot, into the streets, now in full daylight, Maura said, "Please find somewhere safe and stop for a while." Phrased as a request, it came across as an order, imperious, spoken by someone who fully expected to be obeyed.
Jane obeyed. She had come to a state where it was hard to refuse Maura anything, even when the doctor was angry at her, as she clearly now was. She pulled into a small strip mall, turned off the engine. None of the stores were open at this early hour.
"Okay, what's the matter, Maura?"
Maura folded her hands primly in her lap. "While I'm not at all opposed to casual sex, I do try to select my partners based on a certain degree of trust and confidence," she said in an academic tone, as if she were delivering a lecture. Cold, unemotional. "We've been sleeping together for six weeks now. It's wonderful – you're an excellent lover, the best. You're so attentive, so tender. I'd come to believe I could trust you."
"And are you saying you don't?" Jane's tone was challenging and defensive, both at once. Maura smiled a tiny smile, not out of any sense of humor, but at the sense of confirmation.
"What am I supposed to do when you lie to me?" Her voice began to betray the brittle edge she'd been trying to control. Before Jane could reply, she went on, "I asked who tipped off Paddy Doyle. You denied it. It was a lie. Who else could have done it? And in such a short time? I gave you that phone only four hours ago!" She was in the full flush of anger now. "How long did it take Doyle to find O'Rourke? To bring him to that warehouse and kill him? We know he was killed there! You must have called Doyle as soon as you were alone. Minutes after you took the phone! For the crime lab, you said. Another lie! You betrayed me! Betrayed my trust." Hot anger gave way to tears, but Maura kept her hands in her lap and let the tears flow.
Jane wanted to embrace Maura, kiss her, comfort her. At the same time she felt the defensive, self-righteous anger rise, until it was all she could do not to strike her lover. She had never laid a finger on Maura in anger, never would, but this...this hurt. To have Maura, beautiful, sensuous Maura, accuse her this way, was intolerable.
Especially since she was right.
Just this once, just this one time, Jane would lie, would carry on with the lie. For the greater good. Just this once, and never again.
She took a deep breath and began. "No, Maura, no. How can you say that? You, who won't even guess that a stain is blood, jumping on me, jumping to a conclusion without a shred of evidence! Okay, the timeline makes sense, but would you pronounce a cause on timeline alone? No, don't answer, I know you and you wouldn't. You hate guessing. Why'll you give some perp the benefit of the doubt, but I'm automatically guilty because something happened that you don't like? Blame the Great Molasses Flood on me, while you're at it!"
Maura began to feel a tiny tug of contrition. "No, Jane, I didn't mean...that is...look, how else could this have happened?"
"You don't think Doyle has his own ways of finding things out? Doyle and O'Rourke have been enemies since they were teen-age thugs running rackets for their fathers. Paddy's intel is probably as good as ours. He didn't need any real reason to go after Mickey. You were a convenient excuse."
"But you did have the means. And you did have the motive."
"what was my motive?"
Maura's voice fell almost to a whisper. "You wanted...to...protect me."
"Damn fucking right." The doctor's brows knit together at the language. "Maura, you've been the best friend I've ever had. The fact that we're fu...having sex now doesn't change that. It just makes you even more important to me. But, yes, I respected what you asked of me, and no, I did not call Paddy Doyle. He nailed Mickey O'Rourke on his own hook."
"I suppose it's possible. I admit...I didn't consider alternative scenarios."
Jane charged on as if Maura hadn't spoken. "And even if I did, think about what it means. You're alive, Maura, and safe – you're not likely to be threatened by them again. The whole mob knows, now. They touch you, they even come close to you, Doyle goes off on them. That would scare the shit out of me. Listen...I will protect you. You deserve it. You need it, you're an idealist. You're not a cynical bloodstained wretch like me."
"But O'Rourke was killed. Ultimately because of me. I have to feel responsible..."
"Maura, Mickey O'Rourke was the scum of the earth. The fact that the justice system hadn't caught up with him didn't make him any more saintly. It came down to you or him." Jane lowered her voice, softened her tone, let her tender feeling for Maura through. "You're worth a thousand Mickey O'Rourkes, more. You're not even the same...species. He's an animal. You're the best kind of human being. No contest."
Still a bit angry, still a bit suspicious, Maura began to feel a warm spot in her insides, born of the understanding that Jane cared, that Jane held Maura in her heart as someone special, someone important. Not just a friend, not even with benefits. Something else. Something deeper.
And Maura laughed.
Jane leaned across the console, and Maura met her for a kiss; a kiss that promised that this night would be all the more exciting, that there'd be efforts above and beyond, to finish bridging the gap that Maura's suspicions had opened.
And that Jane's lie had closed.
They drove to Maura's house in comfortable silence, which Jane welcomed as an envelope for her thoughts. Never again. Jane's heart was still racing, and not just from Maura's sultry gaze. She'd walked a tightrope over a chasm, and safely made it to the other side. But while naïve, Maura Isles wasn't stupid. If she ever found out Jane had deceived her, not casually but deeply and purposefully, the motive wouldn't matter. Maura was a woman who prized the truth above all, above friendship, desire, even love. Lying to Maura, even in the interest of protecting Maura, was hazardous. She would protect Maura, she would care for her, because...because...perhaps there was something more there. More than friendship. More than sex. Something deeper.
But she was done with lying. To Maura, anyway.
As they pulled into the driveway of Maura's house, Jane's phone rang. It was seven in the morning. Jane hoped it wasn't a body.
Jane listened, nodded, and said, "Sure, I'll be there in a few", and hung up. Maura looked at her quizzically.
"Frankie says Pop has the plumbing at the Robber fixed, and would I come for the big tryout. I'd like to go, I won't be long."
Maura grinned. "Sounds like fun. I'll come too."
Jane squeezed Maura's shoulder. "I was just about to ask you to."