Author's note: WOW! Thanks for all the reviews, favourites and follows so far, guys! I woke up to a very full inbox. It made my Friday even better. I had already finished chapter 2 by the time I uploaded chapter one but I went back and edited a large part of it before finally feeling it was good enough. I don't know where this story came from but the idea popped into my head whilst at work – always a great time to get an idea- and I had to go and write it. I hope I can keep the updates regular but I have two other stories on the go as well. Luckily I have eight days off work so I am trying to get as much done as I can. Thanks again and keep your comments and reviews coming!
Chapter 2
By lunchtime Jane had spent most of her time in an interrogation room. Their suspect was hostile at best and although they had grilled him for nearly four hours, he had barely spoken a word. Jane would have liked to smack the smug grin of his face but she knew it would only land her in trouble with Cavanaugh. Frost had picked up on her anger the minute he walked in and had instinctively slipped into role of the quieter, submissive cop during the interrogation. An angry Jane Rizzoli was something most people found frightening and when Frost had to grab Jane's arm to stop her from launching across the table, he was reminded exactly why that was.
"I wish I could take a blunt steak knife and cut his balls off," Jane hissed as she slammed the interrogation door behind her. She was hot and sweaty. It had been hot and stuffy in the room and all she wanted was to take a shower to wash the stench of the poor excuse of a human being inside away from her.
"You think he did it?" Frost asked as they made their way back to the Homicide squad room.
"Without a doubt," Jane answered. "A smug face like that when we show him the crime scene pictures? He didn't even flinch! He's playing with us. He knows we haven't enough to proof that he killed her and he likes to see us squirm." She swallowed hard. Her hair stuck to the back of her neck. "I'd like to break his…" She swallowed her words when she noticed Cavanaugh walking towards her. He gave them a friendly nod before disappearing down the hall and Jane glanced back at Frost. "I think he's got it in for me."
"Why would he have it in for you?" Frost asked as he held the door to the squad room open for her. Jane filed past him. "You haven't done anything to piss him off, right?"
"Not in the last week, no."
Jane fell into her chair and looked at her desk. Four more files of paperwork had been added to the already large pile. She had tried to forget about it by pretending it wasn't there but she couldn't avoid it any longer. She was due in court soon and she would have to make sure everything was up to date or otherwise Cavanaugh would surely confine her to her desk for a week. She looked up to find Korsak looking at her. Her eyes narrowed. She knew that look.
"OK, stop staring at me and just tell me whatever it is that you need to tell me," Jane said and crossed her arms in front of her chest. When Korsak didn't immediately answer, Jane stood up, walked around her desk and then around his. Her dark eyes pierced into his blue and she cocked her head. "What's going on?"
"I had a phone call about an hour ago," Korsak answered reluctantly.
Jane arched an eyebrow. "A phone call? From who?"
Korsak looked down at his desk as if avoiding making eye contact. For just a split second she allowed a flutter of hope to well up in her hear but then she mentally corrected herself and it died almost as quickly has it had started. She no longer held any hope. She found it was easier to get through the days that way. She leant against the older detective's desk, questions written across her face. Still, he didn't look at her.
"Korsak, what the hell?"
"The phone call was from Stephanie Jones."
Jane shrugged. She had never heard the name before. "Who's she? A witness in one of our cases?"
"No," Korsak answered and he finally looked up to meet Jane's eyes. "She's Casey's ex-wife. Jane. She wants to meet you."
"Oh."
Her stomach dropped and the sudden wave of nausea overwhelmed her. She felt the blood drain from her face and the hairs in the back of her neck rose up. Casey had mentioned he was divorced when they met again after all those years. She had seen his ex-wife at the funeral but she had never asked her name and now she was looking for her.
"Did she say what she why?" she queried.
"Just that she wants to talk," Korsak said. "She left her number." He took the post-it note that was stuck to his computer screen and gave it to Jane. "I said you'd call her back as soon as you were available."
She looked at the phone number in her hand and became acutely aware of the heavy pounding of her heart in her chest. The back of her throat had become dry and she tried to swallow. Her emotions had welled up inside of her. The painful realisation that a year ago she would have run straight to the morgue to talk to Maura hit her when she turned around and froze in her step, realising that there was nowhere to go. Still clutching the number she walked back to her desk and sat back down. As she hung her head in contemplation and confusion she didn't see the worried look Korsak and Frost shared.
With a heavy heart she picked up the phone on her desk and dialled the number on the paper. When she pressed the last button she held her breath as the dial tone filled her ears. The phone rang once, then again and even a third time before someone answered. A woman's voice said hello.
"Errr, hi, is this Stephanie Jones?" Jane asked. It hit her only now that Casey's ex-wife still had his last name.
"Jane? Jane Rizzoli?" the other woman asked and Jane detected the relief in her voice. "I didn't think you'd call me back."
"That makes two of us," Jane thought to herself and wound a strand of hair around her finger. She took a deep breath. She was on guard and her eyes darted around the squad room as she spoke. "I got a message saying that you'd like to meet me."
"I know this is all rather sudden and strange," Stephanie said. Jane could hear voices in the background and phones were ringing. "There is something I'd like to talk to you about. You knew my ex-husband quite well, didn't you?"
"Yes, yes I did," Jane answered and scratched the back of her head. "Are you in Boston?"
"I will be for another week or so," Stephanie answered. "Then I'll go back to Chicago." There was a heavy pause, as if she wasn't sure how to carry on the next part of their conversation. "I'm not sure what would be the best thing to do but maybe we could talk over a drink?"
"Where?" Jane asked. She sounded apprehensive.
"How about The Green Dragon in Jamaica Plains?" Stephanie suggested.
"Sure," Jane said as she scribbled the name of the pub on a piece of paper. "I can meet you there at six."
"Thank you," Stephanie answered. "I'm looking forward to meeting you."
"Me too," Jane said through gritted teeth and hung up. She dropped her head on her desk and covered it with her hands. She didn't look up until she felt a warm, protective hand on her shoulder and found Korsak standing behind her. Their gazes locked and he smiled.
"Go home, Jane."
She pointed at the paperwork. "Not unless you shoot me first."
"Don't make me pull this trigger," the older detective smiled and Jane couldn't suppress a chuckle of her own. "Leave it till tomorrow. It can wait." When she was about to object he shook his head. "I outrank you, Jane. Don't make me turn this into an order. Go home."
She glanced past him at Frost and he smiled. She smiled too. It was only now that they gave her the choice that she realised how tired she was. Her body ached at every imaginable place and she felt like she had been hit by a bus. She suppressed a groan of discomfort as she stood up and patted Korsak on his arm. She knew she didn't have to say anything. It was the type of person she was and they had been working alongside each other long enough to know that sometimes silence really did speak louder than words.
She left the squad room, made her way down in the elevator to the lobby and saw that her mother was too busy to see her leave. Jane left the building, walked to the parking lot and climbed into her car. When she switched on the radio she froze from the inside out. The song she had heard on the radio the night she found Maura's letter, played again. She had heard it a handful of times since and every time the lyrics struck her because they echoed the way she felt, the way her life had changed.
"Baby now don't look back, don't let those feelings start. Don't let the line go slack, when you're pulling it all apart. How to describe the sky, or dismantle a beating heart. Baby we're holding on, here we are holding on. Baby we're holding on, to the world."
Jane turned the radio off and swallowed the tears away. She started the engine and drove home. She parked her car right in front of the building. Once inside her apartment she had a much needed shower and washed the lingering thought of her suspect away. She couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had followed her home and as she fell down on the couch, remote control in hand, her eyes were drawn back to the picture of her and Maura.
She had never thought she could make it through a week without her, much less a year. But here she was, twelve months later, sitting in her quiet apartment as if nothing had changed. She still got up for work every morning and carried on living. The first two weeks had been hardest. Everyone knew Casey had died and that Maura had left. People treated her as if she was made out of porcelain, about to break in their hands. It didn't stop until she busted a fugitive murderer on her own. Since then people's attitudes had changed but the one thing everyone was still weary of was mentioning Maura in front of her. Jane couldn't remember the last time when someone had spoken Maura's name.
Jane tore her eyes away from the picture and focused on the TV instead. She didn't really watch the programme she'd chosen and just used it as background noise as she lay on her couch with her eyes closed. Jo Friday curled up at feet, her little head resting on Jane's knee. Every so often she licked her hand and Jane scratched the mutt behind her ears. She didn't really sleep. She merely attempted to relax but she couldn't force the thought that Casey's ex-wife wanted to meet her out of her head.
Today officially sucked. The morning had started bad and it hadn't gotten any better as the day went on. Every so often her thoughts about Stephanie Jones were marred by the sudden image of Maura's face and every time it took just a little longer and just a little bit more effort to force it back again. She kicked against one of the cushions, alarming Jo Friday. The cushion flew across the room and Jo ran after it, excited by the prospect of playing but Jane wasn't in the mood. She rolled onto her side but couldn't get comfortable. She flopped onto her side but her limbs were unable to relax.
By four o'clock she was so fed up that she got changed into a pair of jeans and a long sleeved white shirt and brushed her hair. She found a pair of boots under her bed and quickly grabbed her purse before leaving the apartment. She knew she was going to be early but she couldn't stand siting inside any longer. She welcomed the sound of her radio in her car and pressed the button just as long until she came across a radio station that played a country tune. She didn't have a particular style of music she did like; choosing the usually critique the music played on air instead, but country was something she did enjoy from time to time.
She drove around town for a while, closing in on Jamaica Plains. She knew the area relatively well but continued to circle round for another hour before finding somewhere to park. She resisted the urge to just turn around and leave but a part of her was curious. Her heart hammered in her throat by the time she walked into the pub where she was meeting Stephanie. The place was almost empty. The radio played Irish music but the pub wasn't as dim and dark as some others she had visited. It looked like it had recently been refurnished with new wooden tables, polished floorboards and leather booths. She glanced around and opted to sit at the bar so she could keep an eye on the door. As she climbed onto an empty barstool the bartender approached.
"Can I get you anything?" he asked with a strong Irish accent. He was by no means a native to Boston.
"Just some water, please," Jane replied.
The minutes seemed to pass agonisingly slow and she had almost finished her drink by the time the door of the pub opened again. She'd been fumbling with her phone, checking her messages, but the sound of the door opening drew her attention and Jane recognised Stephanie Jones almost immediately. She hadn't changed since the day she saw her at the funeral. Fine blonde hair framed a heart shaped face. Stephanie had high cheekbones and full, plump limbs and she looked like the type of girl all the boys would have fallen for in High School. She was dressed in a fetching knee length skirt and matching jacket with a white blouse.
"Jane?" she asked when she discovered the raven haired detective at the bar. She smiled and Jane was surprised to see that it was genuine. It even lit up Stephanie's eyes. She shook the extended hand.
"Hi." Her own smile was a little less genuine. She glanced back at the bartender. "Can I get you anything?"
"Gin and tonic, please."
The bartender poured Stephanie her drink and she accepted it with a smile before looking at Jane. "Shall we go sit over there?" She pointed at one of the booths near the window and Jane simply nodded. She left her empty glass on the bar and regretted it the second she sat down. She had nothing to occupy her hands with and nervously began picking at her fingernails underneath the table.
"I'm glad you wanted to meet with me," Stephanie said and looked up. "I know we've never really spoken to each other."
"I meant to," Jane began. "At the funeral…." She hesitated. "I didn't know what to say."
"I understand," Stephanie acknowledged. "I kinda felt the same way."
Jane's detective instincts took over. A woman she had never met or spoken to had asked to meet her tonight. She was Casey's ex-wife. She placed her hands flat on the table and allowed herself a few more seconds to build up her guard before looking up. "What is it you wanted to see me about?"
"It's about Casey…"
She had guessed as much. Obviously it had to be about Casey. But what was there to say about someone who had been dead for a year and why now?
Stephanie picked up her glass and sipped from it. It was as if the hint of alcohol gave her the little bit of courage that she needed. "You know that Casey and I were married once?"
Jane nodded. "He mentioned it."
"We stayed in touch, even after the divorce. We separated as friends when we realised that our lives had taken two different turns. He wasn't the man I married but he was still the friend I had known for all those years," Stephanie said and a smile graced her lips. Jane could see the memory flickering in her eye. "We talked a lot, Casey and me, even while he was in Afghanistan."
Jane let those words sink in. She had always thought Casey had only ever talked to her while he was away. He had only mentioned Stephanie a handful of times and he never once said that they were still friends. A sharp pang of resentment welled up in her chest but she fought to control it. She didn't know what to say and Stephanie took her silence for anger.
"He spoke about you quite a lot, Jane," Stephanie said.
Jane arched an eyebrow and suddenly the resentment was gone. "He did?"
She felt guilty all of a sudden. She had tried to be for Casey what he had wanted her to be. When she had realised that the life she had imagined with him was never going to be the life she had once imagined, she had still been willing to try. It wasn't until all of it was gone, until he was gone, that she realised she hadn't just lied to herself for all this time; she had lied to him too. Sometimes, even now, she wondered if he had known, if his injury had only been one of the reasons he had pushed her away so many times. She couldn't allow herself to think like that. It was a question that was never going to be answered.
"He talked about me?"
"He did." Stephanie looked down at her drink. "While we were still married we talked about having children. Casey was very much aware of the fact that he could get injured or be killed in action. It was something we both understood was the risk of his job." She didn't make eye contact and Jane noticed how she suddenly clutched her glass a little tighter.
It was as if someone just slapped her in the face. She and Casey had never talked about having children and after the injury he told her he could never give her any. Somewhere deep down she hurt because he had spoken to Stephanie the same time he had spoken to her. "Did you ever try?"
"We agreed that we would wait till he was finished doing his tours but then the plans changed," Stephanie answered. She searched Jane's face for a hint of judgment or anger but when she failed to find any she continued. "It was when we decided to go a clinic. We used some of his sperm and some of my eggs and had the embryos fertilised. We had them frozen for when the time came when we were ready… or in case he ever died in battle."
Jane swallowed hard. "I see."
"He really cared about you, Jane. Whenever I spoke to him he couldn't stop talking about you," Stephanie said. She averted her eyes as if she was unable to look at Jane, confronted by realisation that the man she had once loved had learnt to love someone else. "If things hadn't ended the way they did, I know he would have told you about it eventually."
"I know."
She wasn't so sure if she did know. She had thought she knew Casey well but all this time he had been talking to Stephanie about her and about his injuries. She felt hurt and betrayed that he had not been the only one he had shared this with. He had pushed her away first, claiming that it was because he cared about her too much to let her see him suffer, but had it really just been so he could work out who it was he really wanted? Had he still loved his ex-wife, just like she learned that she never loved him the way she had thought she did?
"Did he talk to you about it?" Jane wanted to know and the blonde woman looked up. "About the surgery and the risks involved. Did he talk to you about it?"
Stephanie nodded. "A few times, yes. He wanted my opinion. My dad's a surgeon and I think he just wanted to know what my thoughts were." Blue eyes briefly met Jane's brown. "I met him a few times in the weeks before the surgery. He seemed positive."
Jane rubbed her hands together. She felt the rough skin of the scars on the inside of her palms and subconsciously clenched and flexed her fingers. Sometimes they still hurt. Those scars had made her part of who she was but they were the eternal scars. The rest of the world couldn't see the scars on the inside, plastered across her heart and her soul. She was angry and hurt. Casey had spent more time talking to Stephanie than he had done to her and she resented him for it.
"I've had a year to think about what I want to do and the clinic called last week, asking if I had made a decision," Stephanie brought the subject back to the previous subject. "That's when I knew I had to talk to you, Jane."
"They wanted to know what you're going to do with the frozen embryos," Jane said softly.
Stephanie nodded. "I'm not getting any younger and even if I do find someone eventually, my chances of having children of my own will have gone. But Casey cared about you and that means he valued your opinion. It seemed only fair that I talked to you before I did anything."
"You should use them." Her answer surprised even herself and Jane needed a second to let it sink in. She had actually spoken those words out loud.
"Really?"
"Yes," Jane confirmed and looked at her hands. This wasn't about her anymore. Stephanie had gone through the agony of coming here, hoping Jane wouldn't judge her for the desire she wanted a child and that she wanted to use the embryos she and her ex-husband had frozen years ago. "You should. Casey loved children. He once said he would have loved to have had them. You'd be honouring his wish."
"Jane...," Stephanie began but Jane cut her off.
"What happened between me and Casey was complicated. Life around us was difficult and when he got hurt it changed everything," Jane explained. "He pushed me out." She swallowed, hoping the resentment didn't echo in her voice too much. "You see, there was someone else in my life at that time. Someone who was there for me when he was gone. Casey and I were good friends, and we wanted to be more than that, but if he had survived the surgery, I'm not sure we would have still been the same people we were before."
"I understand," Stephanie answered and finished off her drink. Jane realised that she had to have been really anxious about meeting her tonight. "Thank you, Jane."
"No need to thank me," Jane answered. Just at that moment her cell phone rang and fished it out of her pocket. It was a number she didn't recognise and she pressed the ignore button before looking back at Stephanie apologetically. "Sorry, that was my mother. I forgot I was supposed to drive her home from work tonight." She wasn't exactly sure why she just lied but she wanted to get away from this place. She wanted to leave.
"Of course," Stephanie answered and smiled. She shook Jane's hand and stood up as the dark haired detective started for the door. She called her back. "Jane?"
She turned around in the open door.
There was a hint of hope in Stephanie's voice. "Is that other person in your life still there?"
"No," Jane answered as she chocked back the tears. "She left."
Without looking at Stephanie, Jane stepped out of the pub and out into cool evening air. The wind pulled at her hair and she quickly walked around the corner and got into her car. Her head was full of thoughts and images she couldn't process and she just wanted to get away from here. She drove home at high speed and with the radio blasting at full volume. She found a parking spot right in front of her building and climbed the steps to the front door before taking the stairs to her apartment. It wasn't until she stuck the key in the door, turned the lock and stepped inside that she was hit by the realisation she had come home to an a quiet house.
It was empty, like her life.
Lyrics in this chapter: David Gray - Holding On.
