Author's note: Thank you all for the reviews, folks! It brings a smile to my face to see my mail box fill up every time I update. Can't believe we're so close to the premiere now! Counting down!
Chapter 3
Jane watched Korsak and Frost from the corner of her eye. It had been an hour since she and Deanna arrived at BPD but already it felt as if she'd never left. It was surprising how easy it was to just slip back into their familiar roles and it seemed that Deanna fitted in perfectly too. Like Frost, she was good with computers and general technology and she'd often be the one to track down the information they needed for their cases. Jane had never seen anybody crack a password protected computer as fast as Deanna. She herself barely managed to log into her email half the time. Computers weren't her best friend.
The computer room had been designed as an incident room. A large whiteboard displayed the various crime scene pictures in chronological order and Korsak's messy handwriting underneath specified time of death, the date the body had been found and the location. A map of Boston and sounding areas had been pinned to the nearest wall and red pins marked the locations where the bodies had been found. Blue pins indicated the places where the victims had lived. Jane's attention was drawn to the green pins. They marked the locations where the first five victims had been found. Her gaze lingered a little longer on the one that marked Erin Montgomery's name.
"You don't think to call and let your own mother know you're in town?!"
Jane's head whipped around when she heard her mother's voice behind her. Angela Rizzoli stood in the doorway of the incident room, her hands on her hips.
Jane flashed one of her smiles. "Hi Ma."
Angela's eyes drifted to the whiteboard and the colour drained from her face when she saw the horrific crime scene pictures. Jane quickly crossed the room and pushed her mother out, closing the door behind her. She forced her to turn around, away from the incident room, and then slipped her arms around her mother's neck, hping the hug would somehow ease what Angela had just seen.
"Those poor girls…," Angela muttered, her voice thick with tears.
"I know," Jane whispered. "That's why I'm here." She ended their hug. "I'm sorry I didn't call. It was kind of a last moment thing. I only found out last night."
"It's good to see you. Janie."
Angela looked her daughter up and down, clearly searching for signs that told he Jane wasn't looking after herself properly. She was surprised when she didn't find any. Jane didn't have dark rings around her eyes nor did she look like she lived on junk food and coffee. Angela had to admit that her daughter actually looked well. A smile graced her lips as she let her fingers dance across Jane's arm. The fabric of her blazer felt soft against her skin.
"Have you got plans for tonight?" she asked. "Frankie and Tommy would love to see you. I can cook."
Jane hadn't visited her mother's new place yet. A few months after Jane left Boston Angela moved out of Maura's guesthouse and found a small place of her own in one of the suburbs. Frankie said that it wasn't much but she'd managed to make it feel like home. It was good for Angela to be back on her own two feet after the divorce and having her own space to live only added to her confidence.
"Sure," Jane answered and quickly glanced back over her shoulder at Deanna. She felt a little guilty for leaving her partner at the hotel. Angela seemed to sense her hesitation.
"Bring her with you."
"Ma, she doesn't know any of you. I can't do that to her." Jane grinned and Angela smacked her on her hand in protest. Jane pulled away but her smile only grew wider. "She'll think I'm related to a bunch of idiots!"
"Frankie needs a girlfriend," Angela countered. "He can do worse than an FBI Agent!"
"Okay," Jane relented. "We'll be there." She quickly pecked Angela on her cheek. "I gotta go, Ma."
"I'll see you tonight," Angela said as she left rhe Homicide department.
Jane watched her mother leave. As she watched the double door close after Angela disappeared she realised how little things had changed. Her mother still worked in the café and she still barched into rooms looking for her children without any consideration for whatever it was they were doing. Jane had found it annoying when she was a teenager but now she realised that it was her mother's way of showing that she cared. She turned around, a smile still lingering on her lips, and walked back into the incident room. Deanna looked up.
"I hope you like lasagne," Jane said as she met her partner's gaze. "My mother just invited you over for dinner."
"Really?" Deanna asked in surprise.
"Don't be too flattered. She's just trying to set you up with my brother Frankie."
Jane chuckled as she joined Deanna, Korsak and Frost in front of the computer and slapped her partner on her back before glancing at the screen. They were looking at the results from the autopsy report. Jane couldn't help that her gaze was drawn to the initials from the medical examiner that had performed all the autopsies printed at the bottom of each page. M.I. Maura Isles.
"All victims were strangled with a piano chord, just like the first ones," Korsak pointed out. "We found one of the wires at the crime scene." He pointed at one of the pictures behind them on the board. "DNA test showed that blood of all three victims was on it."
"The killer recycled the wire but then dumped it?" Jane questioned and narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
Frost looked up. "Maybe there aren't that many pianos around or maybe he's just trying to be green?"
Deanna leant in and pointed at something on the screen. "That's different."
Korsak nodded. "That's the reason we called the Feds."
"The last three victims were all found to have chloroform in their system." Jane scratched the back of her head as she read those words. The last three toxicology reports all mentioned the presence of chloroform. She cocked her head and looked back over her shoulder at the crime scene photos and the green pins on the map. "The original victims tested negative for chloroform."
"The copycat couldn't have known that," Deanna said slowly. "It was another detail that wasn't released to the press."
"Neither was the piano wire but the copycat does know about that part." Jane shook her head. "Why would he need chloroform?"
"Could be more than one reason," Deanna answered. "Perhaps he doesn't like the fact that his victims' are awake to see what he's doing to them or maybe he's not strong enough to cope with it. The other reason could be that he needs help overpowering them in the first place. The original killer was tall and strong. There's no way of knowing whether the copycat has the same shape and build. Maybe he lacks the phyiscal strength to commit these crimes without the chloroform."
Jane's dark eyes lingered on the computer screen. "Whatever it is, the chloroform is the copycats' weakness," she said slowly. "It's his flaw and that's how we're going to find our way to him."
For the rest of the day Jane and Deanna read all the crime scene reports, studied all the pictures and compared them to the first five killings. They drew up the similarities between both sets of killings and the differences and searched through the toxicology and autopsy files for any other discrepancies that could lead them to their killer. There wasn't much that pointed at a killer and it was almost scary to see how much the copycat killings looked like the original ones. Whoever was killing these women now almost looked like the ghost of the original Alphabet Killer.
Around four o'clock Jane closed her file and ran her fingers through her hair. She'd just finished her fifth cup of coffee and her eyes felt heavy. She'd been staring at photos for hours now and she couldn't tell one from the other. She had a splitting headache and after watching the depravity of mankind for hours on end she felt the strong urge to shower.
"I think we should call it for today," she suggested as she stifled a yawn and looked at her partner. "We haven't even checked into our hotel yet."
"I'm starving," Deanna groaned as she pushed her chair away from the desk they'd occupied for the past few hours. "What time's your mother expecting us?"
"Seven," Jane answered. "We've got time to check in, have a shower and drive over to her place."
She picked up the files and left them on Frost's desk. He and Korsak had been called out on another Homicide, leaving Jane and Deanna in the Homicide bullpen on their own. Most of the other detectives had been out for the day too. Two detectives had returned around three, suited and booted and complaining about defence attorneys and expert witnesses. They'd been in court all day. Jane recognised neither of them and came to the shocking conclusion that although it didn't look like things had changed, it turned out they had.
She and Deanna left the Homicide bullpen and stepped into the elevator before walking through the lobby and collecting their suitcases at the front desk. Once outside Jane hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of their hotel. She climbed into the back and rested her head against the glass. She didn't look up as Deanna joined her in the backseat.
"You ok?" the younger Agent asked. "It can't have been easy, walking back in there today after two years."
"I'm fine," Jane answered and it wasn't exactly a lie. "I'm here to do my job, not because I want to get back in BPD."
Deanna glanced at the Italian woman. "Really?" she curiously asked. "You're telling me you didn't enjoy being back there?"
Jane swallowed hard. "No," she answered and stared out of the window as Boston flashed by outside. She knew these streets well. There was a reason why she hadn't enjoyed being back at BPD. It was the same reason her gaze had lingered too long on the initials at the bottom of the autopsy reports and why her eyes had drifted to the door a few too many times, expecting Maura to come walking in. "Because it's not like what it used to be."
They barely spoke for the remainder of the journey. Darkness began to fall and the last rays of the late October sun were disappearing behind the skyline. Streetlamps jumped to life, casting an orange glow across the streets of Boston. Around them people were making their way home after a long day at the office and Jane listened with a half ear how the newsreader at one of Boston's local radio stations announced that the mayor would be opening a new shopping mall this upcoming weekend.
Twenty five minutes later the cab pulled outside their hotel and Deanna paid him as Jane lifted both their cases out of the boot. They walked into the reception area and checked in. The friendly girl behind the desk gave them their key cards and directed them to the fourth floor before wishing them a pleasant evening. The sound of their suitcase wheels against the marble floors was strangely eerie ad Jane was glad when they reached the carpeted elevators. She pressed the number four and watched as the doors slid shut.
With a soft ping the elevator reached the fourth floor and the doors quietly slid open. Jane and Deanna stepped out and turned left, following the directions to rooms 412 and 415. When they reached their room Jane turned around before sliding her key card through the look. Deanna already had one foot inside the door.
"I'll see you down in the lobby at six-thirty," Jane said.
Deanna nodded before disappearing into her room. Jane turned back to her own door, unlocked it and wheeled her suitcase into her room. The light switched on automatically and her eyes scanned her new home for the foreseeable future. She couldn't complain at the Bureau's accommodation. A small executive sweet with a king size bed, a sitting area with a sofa and two arm chairs and a small kitchenette as well as a bathroom. It wasn't exactly her condo back in Washington but it was better than being trapped between four walls with just a bed.
Jane opened her suitcase and began to unpack. She carefully hung her neatly dry-cleaned suits into the closet but was a little less careful when it came to her casual clothes. She found her favourite pair of jeans and left them on the bed followed by clean underwear and an off shoulder black sweatshirt. She kicked off her boots before unzipping her pants and slipping out of her blazer.
She left them in a pile on the floor and walked into the bathroom in just her panties and tank top. Jane switched on the shower and stripped off completely in front of the mirror. As she did so she turned to stare at her own reflection, her gaze lingering on the prominent scar across her abdomen. It was a reminder of her own stupidity. Others called it being a hero but Jane didn't look at it as such.
Jane stepped into the shower and her eyes fluttered shut when she felt the hot water pour down on her. She titled her head back, allowing the flower to caress her face and wash away the dirt and grime left behind by what she had seen today. She reached for the shower gel provided by the hotel and scrubbed herself down before washing her hair. Only once she'd rinsed the last remnant of soap away did she feel a little cleaner but it still took fifteen minutes for her to actually leave the shower. Somehow it seemed that, no matter how much she washed herself, she could never quite was all of the horrors away. They were part of her and they all lived underneath her skin.
It was the part of her job Jane struggled with. It was impossible not to be affected by what she saw on a daily basis. In her time with BPD she thought she'd seen the most depraved and sick individuals but ever since joining the FBI she knew there were even worse monsters out there. She'd learnt not to let them get to her. If you allowed them to get into your head, you allowed them to possess you and she'd seen what that did to people. Many good Agents had lost themselves because they'd allowed someone else to control their mind. She'd sworn she was never going to let that happen. She wasn't going to let anyone inside her head but it was impossible to keep them from getting under her skin.
There were days she questioned herself why she did this job but every time she caught another killer or another rapist she was reminded of the answer to that question. She did it because she believed it was what she was born to do; she had the ability to look inside a perpetrators mind and see enough of the way they thought and acted to predict their next move and see where they made mistakes to be able to track them down. She could stop the purest and vilest of all evils.
Jane got dressed, brushed her hair and fell down on the bed. Suddenly her bones felt tired and all she really wanted was to go to sleep. Her eyes darted to the alarm clock on the side of the bed. It was half past five. She had an hour before she'd meet Deanna in the lobby. A sigh escaped her as she folded her hands behind her head and stared up at the ceiling.
Combing back to Boston had turned out to be less daunting than she thought. Frost and Korsak had treated her as if she never left. They understood better than anyone what it was like to be haunted by demons and they'd been there the day Erin Montgomery died. They'd been there at her side when she whispered to herself that it was her fault. They were the first to tell her that it wasn't true.
Jane's mind unexpectedly drifted back to the other person who had been there that day. Maura. She'd been waiting in one of the squad cars until the all clear sign had been given. She found Jane in the barn with Erin's body in her arms. It had been Maura who officially declared her dead. It had been Maura who then carefully took Erin's body from Jane's arms before helping Jane to her feet, guiding her away from the scene. It had been Maura who'd helped her strip off her bloodied clothes and placed them into the evidence bags. It had been Maura who had been there when the CSI's processed her for evidence. It had been Maura who drove her to the precinct. Maura had been the last person Jane saw before leaving her badge and gun on Cavanaugh's desk.
Jane groaned as she rolled onto her side, punching the pillow into shape as she did so. She hadn't thought of Maura like this for quite some time. Maura had been understanding in the few emails that they'd shared but somehow their lives took different turns and the best friend she'd once known so well slowly changed into somebody Jane no longer recognised. Looking back she knew that it wasn't just Maura who changed. It seemed that they couldn't be apart and still be friends.
Before she knew it, it was time to go downstairs and meet Deanna. Jane got up, grabbed her gun and strapped it to her hip. She slipped her FBI credentials into the back pocket of her jeans followed by her phone; she put her shoes back on and started for the door. She walked to the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor. She listened to the annoying piano music and was glad the doors opened to reveal a now livelier lobby. Deanna was waiting for her by the door.
They got into a cab and Jane gave her mother's address. On the way there she pointed out various buildings and places to Deanna, who genuinely seemed to enjoy the scenery. Her heart sank when they passed one of the expensive restaurants Maura used to take her to. She could see their favourite table by the window and felt a pang of guilt when she watched the young, happy couple sharing a bottle of wine.
After a short drive the cabbie dropped them outside of Angela's house and Jane took in the surroundings. A quiet suburban street with family cars parked on the drives and toys littered in the front garden. It wasn't that different from the neighbourhood she'd grown up in and with a smile she walked up to the front door and knocked.
The door swung open and revealed her brother Tommy, beer in hand. His face lit up when he saw Jane and he eagerly enveloped his sister into his arms. She hugged him back, glad to see him again. She then introduced Deanna before the two of them walked into the house. Tommy closed the door behind them and then went ahead into the living room. Jane could smell the food immediately and her stomach grumbled.
"Hey, Ma!" she called as they walked in.
"Janie!" Angela exclaimed and walked out of the kitchen. She kissed her daughter on her cheek before turning to Deanna. "It's so nice to meet you! I'm Angela."
"Deanna. And thank you for having me," Deanna answered shyly as she shook Angela's hand.
"Go into the living room, Janie. Diner won't be much longer."
Jane nodded and followed Tommy into the living room. The TV was on and she recognised the familiar voice of one of her favourite sport broadcasters. She stepped through the door and grinned when she saw Frankie stretched out on the couch with a beer bottle on the arm rest. She was about to sit down when there was another knock on the front door.
"Somebody get that!" Angela shouted from the kitchen and Jane turned back around.
She walked back into the hallway and opened the front door. Her breath chocked in the back of her throat as she laid eyes upon the person standing outside. She know those hazel eyes and the honey blonde hair.
Outside, illuminated by the porch light, stood Maura Isles.
