Chapter 4:
She awoke feeling unusually hot and sticky. She slowly opened her eyes and found an arm had been flung across her chest and that her room seemed larger than normal… her bed more comfortable… her sheets softer… It took longer than it should have to realise she was actually in Maura's spare bedroom.
'Morning,' she said removing Maura's arm from her chest. 'Sorry I don't swing that way honey,' Maura stirred, opening her eyes and she seemed to take a while to figure out where she was too.
'Mm,' she responded by rolling over and facing the wall as she had the night before.
'I'll make us a coffee,' she knew her way around Maura's kitchen surprisingly well. Usually it was Maura who woke early and made coffee's when Jane had been too drunk to drive home the night before. She slipped on her clothes trying to smooth out the wrinkles with her hands. She bent to smooth out the bottom of her pants when she felt something hit her butt.
'Hurry up and make the coffee, or do I have to get up and do it for you?' She turned to see her friend had hit her with a pillow and looked a lot more awake than before. She rolled her eyes and threw the pillow at Maura's surprised face her realised only a second too late what was going to happen.
'I'll make it, hurry up and get up though.' She checked her phone for the time. Crap she thought, it was well past 8.00am, actually it was almost 9.00am and she had been aiming to be at work early this morning. Maura similarly reached for Jane's phone which she had dropped unceremoniously onto the bed.
'Dear God,' for a second Jane thought Maura sounded a little like she had an English accent and she scoffed under her breath. Maura was most definitely not from England.
..
Jane stared at the map that had now been placed on the corkboard. She put up Kate's before and after shots on the corkboard beneath the others. She looked over at the map, red for Angie, blue for Marie, yellow for Kate. They lived scattered about the city, worked equally as scattered. The closest were Marie and Kate as they worked blocks from each other – but the university Angie attended was nowhere near their workplaces.
Marie was a receptionist, a high paid receptionist by the looks of her house when Jane had searched it. She had quite the social life; she had many friends and had photos plastered all over Facebook of her nights on the town. Thankfully she had kept her Facebook as friends only, so unless the killer was somehow on her friends list he wouldn't have had access to all her posts and photos. That would have made stalking her far too easy as Marie had updated regularly. They were still going through the two hundred and something people who were on her Facebook though, as with Angie and Kate's, though they hadn't used it quite as much as Marie. She seemed as though she had been a lively person, and probably very fun to be around. She wasn't Jane's kind of person as such, but her friends and family had adored her and said that she lit up a room like no one they had ever met before. This didn't surprise Jane, in the before photo Marie had her brown hair tied in a pony-tail and she had only a little make-up on, dark lashes and green-hazel eyes looked out from the photo as if she were standing right here. Jane felt like returning Marie's grin even though it was only a photo.
'Why Marie? Why Angie? Why Kate?' She muttered aloud. If they could figure out how he was picking his victim's then maybe they could work from that angle. The office door swung open with a bang and her boss stormed in, his face red with anger. She knew only one thing that made her boss behave like that, media.
"There is a…" her boss seemed to want to swear, but held his tongue. "-media circus downstairs." He rubbed his forehead anxiously. "-as usual do not," he looked over at one of the new detectives in the corner desk, "-I repeat do not talk to the media. I will tell them all they need to know, and you will respond with a simple 'no comment,'" As fast as he appeared, he left the room; the door once again banged shut. The room was silent for a moment as everyone digested the news. Great. Just what they needed. The journalist's would twist things out of proportion; they would latch onto anything said about The OCD Killer and put it all in the papers. This was what he would want too, it also meant when they did find a lead on him they would have to keep it very quiet or there would be no sneaking up on him with those scavengers printing every bit of information they could get on him. She sighed and looked back at the board.
'What if we are trying an angle that isn't going to help us?' Frost commented from his desk. 'What if he truly does choose them randomly?' She turned the idea over in her head. Could he really just be picking women from seeing them walking down the street, or wherever he may be? Seeing them and thinking "that's the one".
'What do you suggest then?' Frost sighed, and shrugged.
'I don't know, I just have a feeling that we are wasting our time trying to find a connection.' She had to admit, she did feel he was right.
'I think I'm going to go out.' She said suddenly. She wanted to re-trace their steps, she wanted to be them for a bit, see things through the victim's eyes. She headed for the door, but before she even opened them her phone rang. She stepped out into the hall where it was quieter and checked caller ID, it was Maura.
'I-I need you to come down,' Maura sounded flustered so she hurriedly headed to the lifts. A million thoughts ran through her head before reaching Maura's office. Had she found something? Were those hairs his? Had he finally fucked up?
'What is it?' She asked excitedly.
'Shut the door,' taken aback, Jane did as she said and stopped in the middle of the room, suddenly confused.
'He said not to – not to tell anyone.' Suddenly Jane realised what she could see in Maura's face. Fear, absolute pure fear.
'Who told you Maura?'
'Him,' trembling – although thankfully gloved – hands rose with a piece of paper which vibrated along with her hands.
Dearest Medical Examiner,
I know your name is Maura Isles, Doctor Maura Isles. You and your long, long legs should count yourself lucky you are not my type. You know of course what my type is…
You are missing something important, something that may help you find me my sexy-legged lady. So is that detective friend of yours, the one with the long dark hair. Pretty hair, she should keep it down rather than pulling it away from her face all the time.
Anyways, I must get going. She calls to me, she needs me.
The OCD killer
Ps. If I find out that this, my personal letter than I have written to you – ends up in the hand of the detectives… Let's just say I might stray from my normal 'type' sexy legs.
Jane dropped the paper. Fear iced through her veins and the terror that had showed on Maura's face now mirrored back on her own.
'What the hell, Maura?'
'I guess I've been in the papers a bit,' she responded, biting her bottom lip nervously.
'Or you know him.' Jane answered flatly. That seemed the most obvious reason he would write to Maura. 'He has someone else…' Jane said, suddenly realising what he meant when he said "she calls to me". 'Shit!' She kicked the heavy desk and turned to begin pacing, but Maura had come around the desk – throwing her disposable gloves onto it as she passed - and grabbed Jane's hand, squeezing tightly.
'Please Jane,' tears filled her friends eyes, and she watched as one slipped out. 'You are the only one who knows, we have more reason than ever to find him. Turn your fear, your anger into something else. We need to find him, now.' Jane let go of her friends hand and stepped away, looking her up and down. Her friend's long beautiful legs seemed so naked now. She felt sick imagining him taking her, doing those things to her. It couldn't happen. She made the decision not to let anyone else know about the letter.
'We will check the letter ourselves for fingerprints, tonight when everyone is gone.' She felt a bubble of courage and her voice strengthened as she continued. 'Where did you find the letter?'
'It was posted to me,'
'Okay, okay,' she muttered. 'We will find out where from, I'll go down to the post office and see what they can tell me.'
'What can I do?'
'Stay put, whatever you do – don't leave this building without me, or Frankie, or Frost or whoever – as long as someone is there to protect you.' She grabbed her friend's shoulders twisting them so she faced her and made Maura's fearful eyes look into hers. 'Promise me, I know you hate feeling trapped. But you can't let him get you.'
TBC