1.
The woman who takes three bullets for Dr. Maura Isles loses, in reverse order of importance, three days of consciousness, more than a liter of blood, and her unborn child, four days shy of its 12th week.
Pushing herself onto her knees, already reddening with the burn of road rash, Maura swipes her hair out of her eyes and looks around. The woman who'd pushed her roughly to the ground lies where she has fallen, and around her, three dark pools of blood are already starting to spread.
"Oh," Maura says, scrambling back towards the woman. "Oh, Jesus."
She is dimly aware of the sirens growing closer, of faint yelling happening all around her, but she aims the majority of her focus on staunching the blood flow of wound that looks the most dangerous.
"Can you hear me?" she says urgently, watching as the woman's eyes flicker open. "What's your name?"
Why did you do that? What were you thinking?
"Jane," the woman says. "Oh, shit. That bastard shot me. He shot me!"
Maura presses harder on the wound in Jane's side, wondering if she should have focused on the shoulder wound instead. "He wasn't aiming for you," she says. "Lie still. The more you move, the more blood you will lose."
Jane's eyes lock onto Maura's. "Doctor Isles," she says, though lethargy seems to be already taking over. "Did he hit you? Are you hurt?"
"No," she answers automatically, wondering as an afterthought how this woman knows her name. "No, not like you are. Stop talking."
"RIZZOLI!" A young man is sprinting up the narrow street towards them. He's flanked by another man in an officer's uniform and...and he's carrying a gun.
Maura looks down again at Jane, putting the information together. She uses one hand to quickly flip the woman's blazer aside, looking along her belt for what should be there.
Yes, there it is, stained with blood but still perfectly recognizable.
A badge.
"Oh God," she says. "You...you're…" but she doesn't get to finish her sentence.
The men reach her at that moment, followed by paramedics and then finally, the wailing ambulance.
They push Maura aside as they take over, and as they lift her onto the stretcher, the man who had sprinted to them turns to her, pulling off his blazer and offering it to her.
It is only then that she realizes that she is shaking.
"Dr. Isles," the man says gently. "I need you to come with me."
"She just saved my life," Maura says, watching the door of the ambulance swing shut with a bang.
The man nods, looking sympathetic. "I'm Detective Frost," he says. "I'm sorry. I know that this is a shock, but I need to get you somewhere safe."
The last word makes Maura look around at him with wide eyes. "You think the person who did this will try again?"
Frost shakes his head, gesturing up to the window where the bullets must have come from. "No," he says quickly. "No, we got that scumbag, but…" he pauses, and she can tell he's trying to think of an easy way to deliver hard news. She's seen the same look on her residents when they are trying to deliver a poor medical outlook.
"I'm still in danger," she says, more to let him know that she understands than to ask a question.
Detective Frost looks relieved as he nods, and points her towards his unmarked cruiser. "Will you?"
She turns in the direction he's indicated, her hand going automatically to her phone. "I have to call my husband," she says. "He's out of town, but is supposed to get in this evening. I have to call him and tell him I might be-"
Detective Frost's hand closes gently over hers, preventing her from reaching into her purse. "Please hold off," he says, not making direct eye contact. "Until we get to the station."
Maura is suddenly cold. It dawns on her that something must have alerted them that she was in danger. Some connection must have been made.
"Is Garrett alright?" she asks urgently. "Has he been harmed as well?"
A takeover, she thinks. Garrett's company. With both of them out of the way, and Garrett's older brother recently deceased as well…
"Dr. Isles," Detective Frost says firmly. "Please. Let us get back to the station, and then I promise you, all your questions will be answered."
If something has happened to my husband, they would have to tell me, she thinks, but what she says is, "If something has happened to Garrett, I have a right to know."
They have reached the cruiser. Detective Frost steps up and opens the back door for her.
Like a suspect, not a victim. She looks up at him, alarmed. "Please," she says, hearing her voice break. "Please just tell me what is happening."
Frost puts his hand protectively on top of her head as he helps her into the back seat. "You're safe now, Doctor," he says with a kind smile. It serves to reassure her a bit. Surely detectives to not smile at suspects that warmly. "You're safe," he repeats. "Just hang tight for a few more minutes."
Maura is not sure what the phrase "hang tight," might mean, but after five minutes in the back of Detective Frost's police car, she thinks it must be a reference to the way the young man drives.
…
…
Maura stares at the Detective sitting across from her, sure that she has heard wrong. "I'm sorry," she says, shaking her head. "You-you're saying that my husband planned all of this?"
The man, a new detective with grey-white hair who introduced himself as Korsak, nods solemnly. "I know it's a lot to take in right now," he begins, but Maura shakes her head and he falls silent, waiting.
Maura stares at the hard metal table for a long time, trying to organize her thoughts.
"How, ah, how can you be sure?" She finally asks.
Detective Korsak regards her for a long moment. "The man who attempted to kill you earlier this afternoon is a contract killer named Guzman. Mr. Fairfield hired him to kill you and make it look like a stray bullet from a drive-by shooting. Can I ask what you were doing in that part of town, doctor?"
Maura swallows. "I…had an appointment," she says vaguely, knowing immediately that this will not be enough information, and also that what she has to add does not exactly exonerate her husband.
"What kind of appointment?" Detective Korsak asks.
Maura sighs, remembering the text she'd received from Garrett that morning.
I booked you in for a wine tasting at noon today. Here's the address. Our next party is going to be top of the line!
"Dr. Isles?"
"But why would he even do this?" she bursts out. "What could possibly be the reward?"
Korsak flips open a file between them. "Are you aware that your husband stood to inherit his father's company at the end of the month?"
Maura almost laughs at his seriousness. "Of course I am," she says. "We were planning a party in early February to unveil the new plans to move forward."
Korsak's expression doesn't change. "And at the end of the month, Mr. Fairfield became worth nearly six times as much as he had been worth previously?"
Maura shakes her head, still no following. "Of course I know that as well," she says again. "But that's hardly motive to kill me."
Korsak looks up at her. "Dr. Isles, did you file for divorce last Thursday?"
She stares at him. "How could you possibly-"
"We have phone records between Mr. Fairfield and his lawyer, as well as a series of emails."
"You had no right to-"
"He believed that you were filing for divorce, and would demand one half of his newly acquired wealth."
Maura clenches her fists. "Well, that shows how complete your research is," she says coldly. "I am not entitled to any of Garrett's assets, nor is he entitled to mine. We signed a prenuptial agreement. He could have walked away from me, free and clear."
The look that the detective gives her now is softer, more pitying. "There was a clause in that contract, Doctor," he says quietly. "A stipulation that rendered it null and void."
Fury once again rises in the doctor's chest. "Are you insinuating that I cheated?" she says, her voice rising with her rage. "I may have been leaving my husband because I no longer felt a physical attraction towards him, but I respect our marriage vows for what they were at the time. I at least have that bit of decency in me!"
The silence that falls at the end of her outburst is complete. Detective Korsak is looking at her with the same soft look of sadness as before. He doesn't speak.
And all at once it hits Maura like a bolt of lightning.
Garrett was the cheater.
Garrett was afraid that she'd found out and was planning to take all of her money.
Garrett had decided not to approach her about it.
Garrett had chosen to kill her, rather than lose half of his money.
"Oh, my God," Maura says quietly. And now the tears are there, at the corners of her eyes. She presses her fingers against her temples. "Oh, God."
"Dr. Isles," Detective Korsak's voice seems like it's coming from a long way off. "I'm sorry," he's saying. "I'm very-"
"Has he been arrested yet?" she asks though her tears. "Have you arrested him?"
"We have a team meeting his plane. Guzman rolled over on him faster than a lapdog. He's looking at fifteen years. More if-" but Korsak breaks off abruptly, a muscle jumping in his forehead.
Maura frowns. "If what?" she prompts.
Korsak lets out a long breath, looking reluctant. "More," he says, "if the charge is moved from attempted murder, to murder."
And suddenly, Maura is crying again.
Harder.
…
…
She ends up at the hospital.
It is almost six hours later and she has not, in order of importance from least to most, been home, eaten, or showered.
She walks into the Emergency Department at Boston Medical, and the intake nurse at the front desk stands up, looking a little frightened.
"Dr. Isles," she says. "I didn't know you were on call tonight. Is everything okay? Do you have a patient down here?"
Maura stares at her for a beat before realizing that she is in her hospital, and her doctor's ID badge is still clipped to the pocket of her blazer.
She should have started here when she began looking for the detective who saved her life.
"Yes," she says without conscious decision. "I have a patient who was brought in this afternoon with gunshot wounds. I need you to look up where she's been taken."
The young woman sits down and makes few keystrokes. "Certainly, Dr. Isles. What's her name?"
"Rizzoli," she says. She has been saying nothing else for the past several hours. "Jane."
The girl nods. "She came out of surgery an hour ago, and-"
"Who performed it?"
"Uh, Roswell?"
Maura grits her teeth. "Who assisted?"
"Sparks and…Hamilton."
She lets out a breath. That, at least, is better. "And she's where now?"
"The ICU, Dr. Isles. While they wait for her to breathe independently. But-"
Maura does not hear the last words out of the girl's mouth. She is already hurrying towards the elevator, praying that it's Hamilton who remained on call, and not misogynist, egomaniac Roswell.
Luck is on her side. Aisha Hamilton looks up from a clipboard as she comes around the corner, and flashes her a bright smile.
"Maura," she says, sounding genuinely happy to see her. "Wow. Isn't it your night off?" Her smile fades as Maura comes closer and Aisha can see her more clearly.
"You look like you've been through the ringer," she says, lowering her voice. She catches sight of Maura's knees, bruised, and her expression breaks open into serious concern. "What happened?" she asks urgently.
"I-"
But Aisha cuts her off, and gestures that they should step into an empty room. She shuts the door quickly, and Maura feels a surge of affection for her.
"What happened?" Aisha asks her. "Is it Garrett? Are you okay?"
Maura feels the tears returning, and tries to hold them at bay. She is unsuccessful, especially when Aisha takes her hand.
She recounts the day as best she can, trying to ignore Aisha's gasps, and the way she squeezes her hand at particularly difficult parts of the story.
"My patient," she says, putting the pieces together on her own. "Jesus, Maura."
She cups Maura's cheek. "You can cry, if you want to," she says softly.
Maura leans against her hand, reveling in the feeling of comfort. "Please just tell me she's not dying," she says, almost in a whisper. "Tell me she's a young, unmarried, rookie cop, who still has her whole life ahead of her."
Aisha sighs. "She's a detective," she says quietly. "She's been on the force for almost a decade. She's unmarried, but her two younger brothers and mother have been in the waiting room since we brought her up."
"God. She pushed me out of the way."
"She saved your life," Aisha corrects.
"At the cost of her own," Maura retorts immediately. "What is the point in that?"
But the other doctor is shaking her head. "No," she says fiercely. "No, Maura. She pushed you out of the way, knowing that she was going to take at least one bullet."
"That's what I-"
"She's a detective with a decade of experience, and I can tell you that these are not the first bullets she's taken in her career." Aisha puts her hand up to stop Maura's protest again. "She knew where the bullets were coming from and she pushed you out of the way because she knew they would kill you."
And Maura understands. She looks into Aisha's eyes. "Was she right?" she asks. "Were they all through and through?"
Aisha smiles. "Two of them were. The one in her stomach was a bit of a nightmare, but we got it out and we patched her bowel. Roswell might be a pig, but he's a pig with a magic scalpel."
"So she'll wake up," Maura says, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of her chest. "She'll come off the ventilator?"
Aisha nods. "There's no reason to think she won't pull through."
And Maura could hug her. She would, if she could make herself.
Aisha seems to realize, and drops her hands, smiling down at the floor. "You're not what they call you, you know," she says softly. "Not by a long shot."
Maura wipes at the corners of her eyes. "I have to see her family," she says.
Aisha nods. "Only if you promise it's not to punish yourself," she says firmly. "None of this is your fault."
Maura thinks hard about her response. Dr. Hamilton is the first real friend she's ever had. The first person she's truly wanted to pursue any kind of relationship with.
"I'm not doing it to punish myself," she says finally.
And after Dr. Hamilton has checked her neck for hives, she nods and leads her towards the ICU waiting room.