AN: Wow, motivation fills me.
"Dr. Isles!" A voice called. Maura looked up from the familiar dissection table in the basement of the Boston PD Headquarters. She had missed this, somewhat. Working on the dead was so much more comfortable than working on the living. Frost jogged into sight, having called from the area of the elevator.
"You got the tox screen back for the two latest victims?" He inquired, trying his best to not stare at the cadavers laid out on the table. His dark skin has a green tinge to it.
"Yes, it's here." Maura waved vaguely at the table behind her, and continued to sew up the T-dissection on the chest of the second victim. Frost gingerly stepped around her and picked up a beige file labeled "Tox Screen". He patted Maura on the shoulder to indicate his gratitude, and made his way out of the lab, still avoiding the dead bodies. Before he disappeared around the corner, he glanced at Maura.
"It's great to have you back, Doc." He confessed. Maura didn't pause in her work, but Frost could see her lips pull up in a smile. He continued on his way.
Korsak glanced up from his desk as Frost trampled noisily through the small homicide detective's area. Frost slapped the file down on Korsak's fingers.
"What's in it?" Korsak asked. Frost shrugged.
"Haven't seen. Brought it up from Maura so we could look at it together." Korsak nodded and flipped open the outside. They scanned the pages in silence.
"Neither of the victims have any poison in their system. Doc has also confirmed that cause of death was the bleeding from the arterial vein in the neck." Frost sighed. "Man, we just can't seem to catch a break. No clues."
Korsak held up a hand.
"Wait, look at this." He pointed out a small sub-section at the bottom. Frost peered at it. "Both of them had alcohol in their systems."
"What do you think it means?" Frost asked. Korsak rubbed his nose.
"It might be a long stretch, but the serial killer could be frequenting bars and taking his marks." Korsak theorized.
"Don't let Maura hear you guessing, or she'll break out in hives." Frost joked. He turned serious. "That is a plausible explanation though, he could go home with them and kill them unexpectedly. That would explain the lack of signs of struggle and forced entry."
Korsak thoughtfully nodded, and jotted down notes in the margin of the report. Frost sighed, and rubbed his temples.
"This case is driving me crazy. Want to go see if there are any witnesses?" He suggested unenthusiastically. Korsak nodded affirmatively and the two set out.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"What's your name, gorgeous?" A voice rasped. Jane glanced up, taking in the sight of a college-aged brunette. Judging by her voice, she smoked. Jane looked back down, dismissing the offer. She didn't go for brunettes. Put off, the girl walked off. The bartender smirked.
"That's cold, Rizzoli." The proprietor of the bar commented. "Didn't even give the poor girl a chance." Jane flicked her eyes up to briefly glare at the bartender.
"Another beer." She brusquely ordered. The bartender sighed and poured another of Jane's favorite. She came to this bar because the occupants were discreet. Usually. This week, it seemed everyone was prying into her business. Especially that blonde chick. What was her name again? Isles.. Maura Isles.
"I'm going." Jane announced as she slipped off the bar stool. The bartender only spared her a nod as she continued chatting with the friendlier barflies. Shrugging on her jacket, Jane exited the room without making eye contact with anyone.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"No one knew her very well." The neighbor confessed. Her eyes bounced nervously between the two detectives. "I'm not in trouble, am I?"
Frost shook his head and snapped his notebook closed.
"No, it's fine Ms. Randell. Thank you for your cooperation." He reassured. With a glance at Korsak, the two walked towards the stairwell. The day of interrogation had not been going well. None of the neighbors had been friends with the vic, not even the one directly across the hallway.
Korsak rubbed the bridge of his nose and grimaced. He glanced over at Frost, who was grumpily leaning against the wall.
"Let's go ask around the second vic's area." Korsak tried to think positively as he lightly patted Frost's shoulder. Frost just grunted.
The elevator ride down was silent. As the two were exiting the building, someone came jogging up.
"Detectives!" The male voice called. The two turned, surprised. Witnesses rarely approached the pair by themselves.
"Yes? What is it?" Korsak eyed the young man. He was around the same age as the victims, fresh out of high school.
"I knew the girl wh.. who died." The man shifted his eyes, constantly looking around. The two detectives were intrigued. Her neighbors didn't know her, yet this guy did?
"What do you know about her death?" Frost interrupted. The man looked startled as he switched his gaze from Korsak to him.
"I.. Not much. I know that she started going to a bar recently." He rubbed the back of his head. "It's called Lynx."
Korsak looked at Frost, indicating that he should take notes. Frost pulled out his pad. Maybe the day was looking up.
"How do you know that?" Korsak asked. The man was taken aback by the question.
"I.. I sa-saw her leave the bar." He inelegantly lied. The detectives glanced at each other again. Korsak unlocked his police cruiser.
"Come on, you're coming to HQ with us."
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in." Maura called, still focused on the file below her. Inside lay all legal information she could get about Jane Rizzoli. Frost stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
"We got a suspect upstairs. Could you take this and get a DNA sample for future reference?" He held up a small vial with a hair inside. Maura narrowed her eyes.
"How did you get this?" She demanded. "I'm pretty sure a 'suspect' is not in full custody yet."
Frost rubbed his nose, a nervous sign.
"I might have lifted it off him when we were putting him in the car." He grudgingly admitted. Maura looked scandalized.
"You can't do that!" She protested. Frost rolled his eyes.
"Aw, Maura. Can't you just see the DNA? Please?" Frost pleaded. This could be their big catch. Maura nearly growled. She swiped the vial out of his hand.
"Fine." She forced out. She looked back down at the file, dismissing Frost.
"Thanks Maura!" He grinned brightly before slipping out.
"I'll send it up to your desk when it's done." Maura called after his retreating form. She sighed as the door closed. She closed the file. She'd look at it later.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"I'll ask you again, punk." Korsak growled at the man, who they had identified as Ross Wayman. "Why did you kill her?"
"I-I didn't!" Ross protested. "I only met her once."
Korsak glanced at the mirror which was a window on the other side. Frost was undoubtedly looking in. Korsak left the room without another word.
"Want to go in as the good cop now?" Korsak asked Frost, who was waiting for him outside the door. Frost nodded.
"This guy seems like he'll break under that. He doesn't seem like the type to have the nerve to kill 21 girls though." Frost admitted. The nervous man was anything but a killer, but he was their only suspect at the moment. The detective eased the door open and slipped inside.
"Hey, Ross." He said in his most soothing voice. "It's okay, I'm here to help you."
Ross looked up, nervous to see another uniform.
"I told you, I didn't kill her!" He stammered out. Frost cringed on the inside. This man had no will.
"How did you meet her? Will you tell me that?" Like calming a spooked animal, Frost guided the man to gently spill his guts.
"I met her when she first moved to the complex." Ross started. "It was.. Maybe a month ago. I saw her and I thought I really liked her, so I dropped by to say hello."
Frost internally sighed in relief. Finally, some answers. He pulled out his notes to take down what Ross was saying.
"I wanted to ask her out, but she said that she couldn't, that she was going to some bar." Ross continued. Frost's eyebrows drew together. Why couldn't she go out with some guy if she was just going to what sounded like a singles bar?
"Why couldn't she go out with you if she was already frequenting a bar?" Frost pushed. Ross paused.
"I mean, I asked, but she wouldn't tell me." Ross admitted. Frost could see he was telling the truth, so he waved his hand to indicate that he should go on.
"I followed her to the bar that night." Ross shifted his jaw. Nervous. "At first, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary there. Drinks. People. A dance floor."
"What happened then?" Frost inquired. He could sense something come up.
"Then some guy started hitting on me!" Ross exclaimed. He tugged at his hair. "Some queer dressed in bright pink pants. He was the epitome of the stereotype! He asked me if I wanted to go home with him."
Frost's eyebrows rose.
"So, one gay asked you out. What's wrong with that?" Frost's hackles were starting to rise. The stammer and the apparent homophobic tendencies were getting on his nerves.
"We-well.. I looked around.." Ross continued, shaken by the "nice cop"'s accusatory tone. "It was a gay bar. All the couples were gay."
Frost sat back. It sounded like their serial killer wasn't a man after all. He glanced at the shaken ex-suspect.
"You saw her, then?" He asked finally. Ross nodded vigorously.
"She was talking with a tall brunette. They both saw me, though. I hightailed it out of there as soon as that happened. I think she knows who I am." Ross was definitely scared now. Now there was a reason why he had approached the detectives. "Can I go now?"
Frost waved at the door.
"You're free. We have all we need." Frost smiled, a tight grimace that didn't fool anyone. Ross scrambled out of his seat and all but ran for the door. Korsak came in a moment later.
"You heard everything?" Frost glanced at his partner. Korsak's face was set in a glare.
"We've been on the wrong trail for months. It's a woman." When Korsak spoke, his voice was gravelly and angry. "At least we now have a vague description. A tall brunette. It fits the person that we saw walking away at the second vic's house."
Neither of them remembered that Frost had given a tall brunette his business card at the bar the other night.
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"Ugh!" Maura slammed the steering wheel. "Start!" She turned the ignition again, to no avail. The sleek, expensive sports car remained silent. She climbed out, and dug out her phone from her purse. Quickly finding the nearest car garage, she called them requested a tow truck to bring her car to be fixed.
The day had been too good to be without something happening. Cavanaugh had basically waved her right in, ignoring the year she had been away. When she had protested at the easiness, he fixed her with a stern look.
"Don't thank me. We need you here, Doc. If you find that too easy, you'll soon see that you'll have to make it up to everyone who missed you." He had admonished, and Maura had quietly crept down to her untouched office.
She was quiet as the tow truck hooked under her bumper and pulled her to the garage. She climbed out, brushing down her expensive pencil skirt. She glanced around at the oil-streaked surroundings, nearly shivering with the disgusting state of the area.
"That is fucking sexist!" Maura heard a hoarse voice scream. "Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I'll fucking 'connect' better with a female customer or something!"
Maura's lips turned downward. Profanity. What a waste of a language, to use such slurs.
"Just get over there and fix the goddamn car, alright?" A deep, masculine voice yelled right back. Maura sighed and leaned against her car. She stared at the only doorway, and waited for her mechanic to arrive.
What she wasn't expecting was Rizzoli to stroll around the corner, still obviously full of rage. It was obvious Rizzoli wasn't expecting her either. Rizzoli seemed like the type of person to want to remain in control, and the lapse in a cool veneer seemed to fuel her rage.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" She growled. A full tool belt was strapped to her waist, hanging dangerously low on her hips. Maura swallowed.
"My car broke down." Maura replied, her voice curt. She wasn't going to give in to Rizzoli. The woman in question narrowed her eyes, before focusing on the car instead of Maura.
"Shit!" She exclaimed, her eyes widening. Maura sighed and tried to block it out. "Goddamn, that is an expensive car."
"Will you please fix it instead of wasting my time?" Maura tried to steer the attention of the awed mechanic to more productive areas.
"Yeah yeah, Doc. Right on it." She replied. The mechanic absentmindedly tossed a wrench in the air and caught it as she circled the car, looking for any outside flaws. Finally, she opened up the hood of the car and peered inside.
"Your fuel pump and spark plug are both fucked up." She finally commented after scanning the mess of metal parts. Maura raised an elegant eyebrow.
"What does that mean?" She queried. She felt dumb having to ask. Rizzoli glanced at her with a derisive smirk on her face.
"Nothing your elitist ass needs to know. You'll have to leave this overnight, we need to order both those parts." Rizzoli seemed to take pleasure in causing Maura misery. Now she needed to take a cab home, and she hated doing that.
"Thank you." She gritted out. Rizzoli smirked and kept flipping the wrench.
"No problem." Maura left the area with the words ringing in her ears. Why did she have to be so condescending? She entered a small room labeled "Payment".
"Hello? Sir?" She tried to get the attention of the man sitting behind the desk. He glanced at her, before doing a double take. He stood up hastily, holding out a large, beefy hand.
"Hello, uh- ma'am." He stumbled. Maura held out a dainty hand and carefully shook the man's proffered extremity.
"One of your mechanics informed me that a spark plug and a um.. fuel pump.. had to be replaced." Maura disclosed. "I'm here to pay. The mechanic also mentioned that the car would have to be left overnight."
The man pulled some paper out of a back pocket and jotted down what Maura was saying, before pulling up a list of prices on the screen of his computer.
"Cash or credit?" The man tried to be professional, but Maura could sense his eyes sliding down her body. She shivered, not in a good way. His eyes on her body felt slimy and vile.
"Credit." She held out a platinum card, and he ran it through the system. He glanced at her again.
"Since your car is going to be here for the night, do you need a ride home?" He offered. Maura wanted to say no, but it would be rude. She hated being rude. She also hated cabs.
"That's very kind of you." She replied in a clipped tone. He creeped her out.
"Great!" He rubbed his hands and pulled a set of keys off the wall. "Let's go."
Maura immediately regretted her decision as he led her towards the road.
"Hold it, Hoage, where are you going?" A deep voice burred. The same voice that had been yelling at Rizzoli earlier.
"Jus' driving this pretty lady home." When deferring to what seemed to be the boss of the garage, 'Hoage' reverted to his apparent southern accent.
"Hoage, you gotta stop hitting on the customers." The boss, easily six feet and hairy, shut down Hoage's protests. "You ain't driving this gal home."
Maura sighed. Back to the cab then.
"Rizzoli! Get your feminine ass over here and drive this customer home." Nearby, the man's voice was even louder and rougher than before. Rizzoli's angry scream from the other room indicated what she felt about the command. "If you ain't gonna cooperate, I'm gonna have to fire you. Again!"
Rizzoli finally walked in, a dirty rag thrown over her shoulder and her hair tied up.
"I ain't driving some prissy shit home." She hissed at the man standing next to Maura. Maura tried to contain the situation before it turned into a large fight between two stubborn individuals.
"I'll take a cab. It's fine." She placated. The man glanced down at her.
"See that, Rizzoli? You're forcing a fine mam to take a cab home." He growled. Rizzoli growled right back.
"Fucking fine!" She relented. She stomped back into the other room to presumably grab her keys. Maura sighed. She didn't want to be used as a piece in the ongoing war between the garage's owner and the temperamental mechanic, but it seemed she had no choice.
Rizzoli reentered with a set of keys twirling on her fingers, with the rag missing.
"Follow me." Her order was curt and angry. Maura followed meekly after the seething woman. The two exited through a car entrance and started walking down the road. Rizzoli finally stopped in front of a small, comfortable-looking car.
"Get in." She indicated the passenger's side before walking around to the driver's seat. She climbed in with a grunt of satisfaction, and twisted her key in the ignition. Maura eyed the seat before sitting down. How had she ended up in the same car as her former patient?
Maura gave her directions to the upscale part of town, and Rizzoli glanced at Maura as the car rumbled to life. The car ride was silent the whole way through, Rizzoli apparently having spent all her energy fighting with the garage owner.
"Here." Maura finally opened her mouth as Rizzoli pulled up in front of her house. Rizzoli looked at her, but didn't say anything. Maura started to climb out of the car, but stared back at Rizzoli. High, proud cheekbones, a defined nose, and dark eyes stared back at her.
"Thank you." She managed. "For bringing me home."
"No problem." Rizzoli breathed. Maura broke the connection between their eyes and closed the door softly. She stood on the street as Rizzoli pulled away, and stared at the back of the car until it turned around the corner.
