_ Chapter 4_
The dim light from the chandelier above the dining table softly illuminated Maura's living room. The pale eggshell drapes drawn across the windows offered a pseudo-barrier, protecting and concealing those housed within while preventing the outside world from entering. Both women knew the fragile barrier could only last for so long.
Three empty beer bottles sat on the coffee table. Jane nursed her third while Maura swirled the fermented hops of hers; their lacking interaction made up by their closeness on the couch.
Maura took a sip; the tawny liquid fizzed against her lips and tongue, tickling the back of her throat as she swallowed. She was desperate to offer aid, yet troubled with a sense of inadequacy, unsure as how to provide such support for the resilient, nonetheless stubborn, woman who sat next to her. Tapping the neck of the bottle, Maura watched as the brunette stared pensively at the flower vase on the coffee table.
Past visions played in Jane's mind.
Darkness.
The detective strained to hear over her labored breath. Every nerve was alive, on edge, ready to react to the slightest stimuli. She held her gun upward, prepared to shoot when necessary, slowly creeping down the hall.
The metallic tinkle of a coin rolling across the concrete floor spooked the lanky detective. She pointed the gun in the direction of the approaching sound.
Closer and closer the coin rolled.
With a soft thud, the coin collided against the black, patent leather toe of Jane's boot. She held her stance, pointing her gun into the darkness, the eerie silence ringing in her ears. Crouching slowly, she reached for the coin; gun still aimed. Picking up the strangely warm coin, Jane slipped it into her pocket.
She had barely straightened her knees before it happened.
The swift jab of the gun barrel against her lower back caused her to gasp; a set of hands grabbed her wrists preventing her from turning. Panic washed over her body, settling in the pit of her stomach.
"Please," she cried frightened, relinquishing the grip on her gun.
With a forceful heave, the invisible mass shoved Jane against the solid wall. She cried out in pain. A cynical titter breathed in her ear. The blunt impact evolved into a compressing weight, her body held tightly against the wall. The barrel continued to press sharply into her back as a stray hand touched her body.
"Please," she pled.
The crack of the gun exploded in the silence.
Several more shots rang out.
Jane screamed.
Silence.
She shook, paralyzed with fear, the weight gone.
She heard nothing, saw nothing, but felt the looming presence leering at her, a tympanic tension building.
She cringed in hostile anticipation. A warm trickle of blood streamed down her cheek. Her pulse raced. She panted.
"Jane," Maura cooed with perturb.
Jane abruptly looked at the blonde, the internal horror etched on her face. She puffed a shallow breath. Jane closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, fighting to control her emotions.
Maura reached out slowly to brush a strand of raven hair from her cheek.
"Jane," Maura cooed softer. The nimble fingers gently stroked the satiny locks in an uncharacteristic manner. The softness threaded between her fingers elicited another stroke. Jane's brow softened, Maura continued, each stroke soothing the both of them.
"Make it go away," Jane beseeched. She opened her eyes, revealing her raw emotion. Maura paused, momentarily surprised by the request. She smiled sadly as cortisol pumped into her bloodstream. It felt as though a vice cinched her heart.
The same hand, which rescued Jane moments ago from her drowning waters, cupped the brunette's cheek. Both welcomed the additional warmth.
That hand, it was a miraculous object, capable of unworldly transcendence with its agile dexterity yet tender and soothing nature. Something Jane would never forsake.
Maura swiped her thumb gently over a faded scar on Jane's cheek, the faint prominence tickling her slightly.
Her blonde eyebrows creased in anguish as she watched a single tear roll down the olive cheek. She would do anything or give anything to protect Jane from danger, from despair, from heartache. Protecting Jane was her only goal ever since she had met the snippy, yet delightful, detective.
"Like you always do," Jane added. Her dark pools reflected the earnest truth of her words.
The surge of epinephrine through Maura's body caused her heart to race, her palms to sweat, and the feeling of helplessness to vanish. They were the only two in existence as the world around them stopped. There was no concern for the next few moments, for tomorrow, or for the rest of their lives.
An overwhelming desire to kiss the brunette caused Maura to choke on a surprised gasp. As the hormones flooded through her body, Maura realized that she was hopelessly and desperately in love with her best friend, Detective Jane Rizzoli.
"Come here," Maura's voice was barely above a whisper.
Maura shifted to extend the length of the couch, her arms gently pulling the brunette to her as she laid back.
"Studies show that infants with anxiety become more relaxed when they listened to the mother's systolic and diastolic fluctuations, as well as the subtle resonation of the gastrointestinal tract. Anxiety levels in adolescences and adults have also been shown to lower when exposed to these sounds as well," Maura absentmindedly spouted as she pulled the blanket from the back of the couch.
"And that means?" Jane asked as she scooted up Maura's body, coming to rest on her side, wedged comfortably between the couch and the warm mass of Maura.
"Listening to a heartbeat and stomach gurgles will make you feel better." Jane grinned and snuggled against the blonde.
"Here," Maura said, "rest your head near my 6th intercostal, right here on my sternum." Maura gently guided the mane of raven curls to rest on her chest.
Jane flinched slightly at the haunted pressure.
"Do that thing with my hair again." It was a polite command, not a question.
Without hesitation, Maura's fingers began to work their wonders. Jane sighed and closed her eyes, accepting the deviation from their typical cathartic drinking session. Maura brought her other hand behind her head, propping it so she could comfortably gaze upon the brunette against her chest. Jane reached across Maura's abdomen and hugged her, fearing separation if she did not actively cling to her blonde haven. The faint whoosh and feather-like pulsations of Maura's heart lulled Jane to a calm state and before long into a pleasant slumber.
Maura scrutinized the woman in her arms, unable- unwilling- to give into sleep before the entirety of the moment was forever engrained into her memory. How the weight of the brunette felt against her frame, the steady rise and fall of Jane's chest with each breath, how the slender arm comfortably draped across her midsection, the svelte fingers earnestly clinging to her hip, and the subtle scent of lavender mingling with perspiration.
Hazel glided over the curvatures of the detective's face, across her strong jaw, button nose, and thin lips. Maura watched the wrinkles of stress and plagued concern fade from the heroine as she drifted deeper into a peaceful, uninterrupted sleep. In a silent prayer of gratitude, the doctor closed her eyes as she committed the last scene to memory, a smile on her lips.
The unexpected shrill of both mobile devices callously awoke the two women from their pleasant slumber.
Jane opened her eyes, blinking; her body snuggled against the blonde, her face still pressed against her chest. The sweet scent of Maura greeted her followed by a sleep-laden groan. The blonde shifted, pressing herself into Jane.
"Maura." Jane requested the noise stop. With a grunt, the medical examiner reached for her phone on the table behind the couch.
"Dr. Isles," she answered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"Doc," Detective Frost's gloomy voice greeted her. There was a pause. "We got another one."
"We'll be right there."
"Hey, Doc?" Frost spoke with an underlying sincerity.
"Yes?" Maura asked as she played with the raven curls on her abdomen.
"Don't let her out of your sight."
"Never."
Maura hung up the phone and cooed to the sleeping woman in her arms.
"Jane," she nudged her, "Jane, sweetie, come on."
"Wha-" Jane asked, lifting her head.
"We have to go to work now."
"Ok, you go shower, I'll wait here." Jane placed her head back on Maura's warm chest. Maura chuckled once despite the seriousness of their current situation. Slowly, Maura slipped from the couch, allowing the detective to lie for a few more moments.
As Maura's footsteps faded, Jane inhaled deeply and pushed herself upright. She blinked a few times, ran her hand against her face, then through her hair. Grabbing her phone, she opened the text from Frost.
NE Madison, 10-54, S*G
S*G
The coded anagram punched made her cringe. Her stomach churned over itself. How could she have allowed it to happen again?
She quickly sent a text message back. Be there in 20. With a large exhale, Jane leaned forward and placed her head on her hands.
"Jane?" Maura asked, startling Jane.
The brunette turned to Maura, who was dressed in a pair of black yoga pants, a forest green workout top and a matching jacket, standing in the doorway.
"Are you ready?" The blonde ponytail bounced when Maura cocked her head.
Jane sighed again, "Yeah."
"What do you have?" Maura asked as she and Jane stepped under the police tape.
"Appears to be a double homicide, hopefully a real case opener."
As they rounded the corner of the alleyway, they met the scene of a man sprawled haphazardly on the dirty ground. His clothes wrinkled and covered in large blots of blood.
"This one's Jason Mayler," Frost said. "Found his id, and personal effects. He," Frost cleared his throat," he was a person of interest in a case about a year ago."
Maura bent down to examine the wounds. Reaching a gloved hand to the blots, she noticed the subtle convex nature the cotton-polyester blend shirt had over each wound.
"Huh," Maura said.
"Is that an 'I found something' huh, or 'does not compute' huh?" Jane asked. Maura shot her a glance.
"There's a patterned wound, I won't know the details of it until I can examine the body back at the lab."
"How long has he been here?" Frost asked, the stench catching up with him.
"The beginning of decomp indicate a day and a half, maybe two."
"So, he was killed around the same time as our first victim?" Jane asked.
"I couldn't give you a conclusive answer," Maura said.
"Maybe he's not the second victim," Korsak interjected. Jane looked to Korsak, then Frost.
"You'll want to see this," Frost said gravely.
The four of them walked farther down the alleyway, coming to the back loading dock of a vacant building. A younger man slumped against the large cement column, a pool of blood beneath him.
"John Doe, about thirty," Korsak said.
Within the pool of red sat half a dozen coins.
Jane approached the victim, putting on a glove, and knelt to the pool. She picked up a coin.
"Are these victims in play?"
"Doubtful," Korsak answered. "Doesn't fit the profile. I bet he's from inside."
"These must have been his targets." Jane pointed to the coins and studied the scene before her. She was unsure whether they were making progress or being blindly choked around by their necks. Frost held out an open evidence bag.
"Can we get this processed and a team on them, see if they can decode the images. We already have most of the files out." Frost nodded.
Jane's brown eyes wandered over the dull silver coins. Her eyebrows furrowed, among the silver, a brass orange coin. Picking up what resemble that of a large penny, she examined the embossed images. On one side was an X, intersected by three parallel lines, on the other side, a crudely etched bird.
She handed the coin to Korsak.
"Someone of importance?" he asked.
"Coin's material may indicate that. It has in the past," her gravelly voice answered.
Maura peeked over Korsak's shoulder.
"Copper."
"Kinda looks like it, Doc," Korsak said, palming and flipping the coin in his hand.
"No," Maura pointed to the X design. "That's the alchemist symbol for copper, well, sometimes Venus."
With her habitual, unsolicited utterance, Maura had single-handedly unlocked and opened every vault within Jane's mental case repository. The detective's mouth fell open, her eyes wide in an epiphanic stare as she looked at the medical examiner. So many things made sense.
"What?" Maura inquired.
"Frost, get a BOLO out on Gerald Crow, now."
Frost's dark eyes met Jane's in a questioning manner.
"The head engineer for the bay's foundry for water sanitation?" he asked in a perplexed tone. The significance of Frost's words brought Sergeant Korsak to the same startling realization. Korsak looked at Jane with disbelief.
"Son of a bitch."