CHAPTER 8

When Jane and Korsak drive away from the Rysnik residence, it's still early morning.

It had been good to put a face with a name, especially after Ron MacIntyre had maligned Mason Rysnik as he had. Yet talking to Mason had raised more questions than it had answered. What did Dave and Mason have in common for them to have hit it off like they had? A three-year age difference could be a lot at that age. Were drugs a factor? Why had Charlotte seemed so nervous? Was Mason just a grumpy teenager and not a morning person or was there more to his sullenness than that? And where was Mr. Rysnik? Why wasn't he there to support his kids after they had suffered such a terrible loss?

As Jane drives away, she's also reminded of Korsak's earlier question. How come a family living in such relative squalor manages to afford sending their kids to a top-tier private school? She turns to Korsak and says, "Hey, how about we stop by the John the Baptist Academy on our way back to the station and have a chat with the principal. Perhaps he can tell us how the Rysniks ended up living in such a crappy apartment and how Dave MacIntyre went from being a straight A student to a being found dead with the imprint of a gun on his skull."

"Sounds good to me."

Half an hour later, Jane pulls up in front of a beautiful and imposing-looking neo-Gothic building. She parks the car in the school's lot and as she gets out of the car, she can't help but be reminded of going to church as a child. There are the carved wooden doors, the columns, the arches, the stained glass windows, the gargoyles.

The two detectives walk up the stone stairs and enter the building. The main corridor—its high ceilings decorated with religious imagery and its wooden panels beautifully carved—is empty. As Jane and Korsak walk down the wide corridor, the silence is occasionally interrupted by the muffled sounds coming from the classrooms to either side. After having passed six or seven classrooms in this manner, Korsak and Jane arrive at what seem to be the administrative offices. Looking around for the principal's office, they spot a woman in her forties with short brown hair, a black skirt and a frumpy sweater walking out of an office further down a smaller corridor to the left of the main one. The woman walks up to the two detectives and with a friendly smile inquires, "Hello, can I help you?"

"Yes, hi, I'm Detective Rizzoli and this is my colleague Sergeant Korsak. We'd like a word with the principal if that's possible."

"Certainly. Mr. Schlesser's office is two doors down. He should be in, so you can just go ahead and knock," the woman says as she points to a closed door.

Jane and Korsak find Mr. Schlesser seated behind a beautiful antique oak desk. He appears to be in his forties, his thinning blonde hair cut short, a bit of a beer belly showing behind his white button down shirt and blue tie. His manner is affable, and he invites the detectives to sit down and tell him how he may be of service.

"We're investigating the death of Dave MacIntyre," Jane starts.

"Oh God, yes. We're all still in shock. Dave was so well liked by all of us. Such a bright kid too. What a tragedy." The principal stops for a moment to collect himself and then continues, "Next week we're holding a memorial service. I've been talking to some of Dave's close friends here at the academy to see what kind of service they'd like. It will be important for the students to all come together and mourn his death. Such an awful thing to have happened."

"Mr. Schlesser, we understand that in the past few months Dave's performance in school lagged. Do you have any idea what was the cause of that?"

"I'm afraid I don't." Schlesser clasps his hands together and places them in front of him on his desk. "I had actually scheduled a meeting with Dave for next Monday to talk about his academic performance. It wasn't like him to slack off. His teachers were concerned too. They say he wasn't engaging with the material anymore. But we have no idea why."

"And these friends of his you've been planning the memorial service with, they haven't said anything either?"

"No, I don't think so. But may I ask why you are asking these questions? My understanding was that Dave died in a tragic accident."

"Well, we're not certain it was all that accidental."

"What? You think someone ran him over on purpose?"

"Well, we're still investigating, Mr. Schlesser," Jane says, "that's why it's important we get as much information about who Dave was hanging out with and what he was doing in the weeks leading up to his death."

"I don't think I'll be of much help there. I only know his friends here at school, and they all seem like good kids."

"Mr. Schlesser," Korsak says, taking over from Jane, "do you remember a student of yours by the name of Mason Rysnik?"

"Mason? Of course, how could I forget. His younger sister is still a student here."

"Yes, Charlotte, we know," Korsak interrupts. "What can you tell us about the family?"

"The Rysniks? Well, it's a rather tragic story really. When Mason was twelve and Charlotte eight or nine, their mother passed away. Their father had a hard time coping. So Mason ended up doing a lot of the work around the house: cooking, cleaning, looking after Charlotte."

Jane quickly catches Korsak's eye and gives him a look that says, "Is this the same Mason we talked to this morning?"

"But he was a real bright kid," the principal continues. "And so mature for his age. One of his teachers who knew about our scholarship program got in touch with us. He'd been getting into trouble at the public school in his neighborhood, and this teacher was convinced he was acting out because he was bored and that a change of scenery might do him some good. So we tested and interviewed him, and then that fall he started here. Did really well at first. Smart as a whip. Had a real gift for music too. Played in one of the school's bands for a while. Bass guitar. Really loved it. But then he hit puberty and just started to lose interest in school. His grades got worse. He was distracted in class and some days even seemed positively catatonic. We brought in a psychologist, talked to his dad, did everything we could. But nothing helped. It was very frustrating for all of us, because we just wanted him to succeed."

"Did you know that Mason and Dave were friends?"

"No, I didn't know that. But I know Dave and Charlotte were dating."

"Was Mason doing drugs while he was enrolled here?"

"Drugs could explain some of his behavior, but we never caught him using anything, so we were never a hundred percent sure."

"And is Charlotte here on scholarship too?" Jane chips in.

"Yes, she is. Very different kid from Mason. Very conscientious when it comes to her school work, never causes any trouble. We're happy to have her."

Jane glances over at Korsak to see whether he might have any other questions and, satisfied that he doesn't, gets up.

"Okay, Mr. Schlesser, I guess that's all for now. Thank you for your time. But please let us know if you hear of anything that might help us. Any fights Dave might've been in, any problems he might've had."

"Of course," the principal replies as he gets up too. He walks around his desk and, as he shakes first Jane's and then Korsak's hand, says, "I'll let you know if anything at all is brought to my attention."

"One more thing," Jane says as they're about to walk out of the principal's office. "Did Dave have a locker in the school?"

"Why, yes, he did. I was planning on packing up his things and having them brought over to his parents later today."

"Do you have his locker combination?"

"Sure, let me grab it for you," Mr. Schlesser says as he walks out of the office.

Moments later he returns with a piece of paper with the locker combination scribbled on it. "Would you like me to walk you there?" he asks.

Taking the post-it, Jane says, "If you could just point us in the right direction, I'm sure we'll find it."

Jane and Korsak take leave of the principal, grab a bag and some gloves from Jane's car, and then head back inside to look for Dave MacIntyre's locker. As they put several books, a rucksack, a water bottle, and a pair of sneakers into the plastic bag, Jane says, "Let's bring this in and have Frankie take a look."

As they make their way back down the by now familiar corridor, Jane glances over at Korsak and asks, "Have you ever wondered what it would've been like to have gone to a school like this?"

"Uh… scary?"

Jane frowns. "Scary?"

"Yeah, I bet they would've forced me to learn something. All I wanted to do at that age was play music and travel and be done with sitting in a classroom all day long."

Jane smiles. "Knowing that, you didn't turn out all that bad, Vince."

Korsak laughs and says, "Well, I've had many years to play catch-up."

"Yeah, like sixty?" Jane teases.

Korsak shakes his head in mock indignation and then asks, "Hey, wanna stop for an early lunch somewhere on our way back to the station?"

But thinking that lunch might be a good time to talk to Maura or at least make plans with her to talk later, Jane tells Korsak she'd prefer to keep working for now and that she'll grab something at the Division One Café later.

When they get back to the station, Jane and Korsak immediately head upstairs. When they walk into the bullpen, Jane puts the bag with Dave MacIntyre's possessions on Frankie's desk and sits down in her own chair. Staring straight ahead, Jane quickly makes a mental list of the things to do next: they should go over the statement of the person who found Dave, look at the evidence they collected at the scene, find out whether the crime lab has any details on the type of gun used to hit the victim in the head, and continue to look into Dave's relationship with Mason Rysnik. And then take it from there.

Looking around, Jane all of a sudden realizes that something has changed. The bullpen somehow looks different. Not sure at first what it is, it suddenly hits her. It's Frost's desk. All his things are gone. His files. Even his blue action figure.

And before she fully understands what has hit her, she gets up, enraged. How dare they, she thinks. How dare they just throw his things away like that. This man gave the best years of his life to this police corps and they don't even have the common decency to wait two weeks before they clear out his desk to make room for somebody else? And she knows she's being irrational, jumping to conclusions, but she can't help herself.

Finding herself on her feet but unsure where to go or what to do, Jane takes a few steps back and forth. Then she sees her brother Frankie walk into the bullpen. As soon as Frankie sees his sister pacing, hitting the inside of one hand with the fist of the other, he knows something is wrong. He walks over to her and asks gently, "Jane, what's the matter?"

Jane tries to talk, but the words get stuck in her throat. She points at Frost's table and looks at her brother both angrily and helplessly.

"Janie, I'm so sorry," Frankie starts. "You were out, and I …."

Looking stunned, Jane takes a moment to collect herself and then stutters, "You? You did this?"

She clenches her jaw and shoots daggers at her brother.

Adopting his most contrite and submissive younger brother voice, Frankie mumbles, "Jane, come on, I just thought…"

"You just thought what?" Unable to let it go, she takes a step closer to her brother, clearly making him uncomfortable, and continues, "You just thought, Oh, why don't I just get rid of Frost's things, no need to discuss this with anybody, let's start with a clean slate, close this chapter…."

"Jane, come on, that's not fair."

And Jane knows that it's not fair and that's she being unreasonable. She needs to get out of there, she thinks. Just get out of here and don't make things worse. It's not Frankie's fault. But she's furious. So she looks Frankie up and down dismissively and seethes, "Glad to see you making yourself useful around here, Frankie." Then she turns around and walks out of the bullpen, leaving behind a stunned Frankie and a concerned Korsak.

Jane walks into the elevator and before she knows what she's doing, she's pressed the button to go down to the morgue. When she walks into the autopsy room, no one is there. She's about to walk into Maura's office when the medical examiner, reading a file she's holding with both hands, walks out. The two almost crash into one another.

"Jane!" Maura exclaims. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you. Is everything…," but Jane's face couldn't tell her more definitively that everything is not alright.

"Oh Jane, what's wrong?" Maura begs to know.

Jane shrugs and says with as much calm as she can muster, "I'm fine. I just…. I just wanted to know whether there's any news. Any news about that gun. That gun used to knock out Dave MacIntyre."

Seeing how much Jane is struggling to keep her composure, Maura takes hold of the detective's upper arm and gently guides her into the office, saying, "Let's just go in here for a minute."

Maura takes a seat on her sofa, expecting Jane to join her there, but the detective has no intention of sitting down. She paces back and forth from Maura's desk to the office door. The medical examiner waits to see whether Jane will say anything, but when Jane remains silent, she pleads, "Jane, talk to me."

Jane stops walking for a second, looks down at Maura, says, "It's stupid, I can't," and keeps walking.

"Jane, come on, even if it's stupid, talk to me."

At that, Jane crosses her arms in front of her chest and finally sits down.

Maura gives her an encouraging look. Jane sighs and then says, "Why do I keep doing this?"

"Do what?"

"Lash out."

"Who did you lash out to?"

Jane sighs. "Frankie."

"Frankie?" Maura looks surprised. "What did he do?"

"He cleared out Barry's desk." At that, Jane puts her hands in her lap and bows her head.

"Jane, I'm sure Frankie just wanted to help. I'm sure he meant no harm."

"I know that. I really shouldn't blame him. But it just pissed me off so much." Jane sighs again and then adds, "I wish I were better at this."

"At what?"

"This whole grieving thing. Carrying on."

Maura grabs hold of Jane's hands and says, "Jane, Barry has been dead only a week. The funeral was only two days ago. It's perfectly understandable that seeing his empty desk would upset you. I'm sure Frankie will understand. Try not to be so hard on yourself."

But Jane shakes her head. She stares ahead again, avoiding Maura's gaze. No, she doesn't want to accept this. She hates feeling like this. Where did that feeling from earlier this morning go, she wonders. Why can't I hold on to that?

Seeing how much her friend is struggling, Maura pleads, "Jane, please look at me." When Jane continues to stare ahead, Maura puts a hand on Jane's cheek and forces the detective to look at her. Looking deep into Jane's eyes, she says, "Really, Jane, this is not the end of the world. You're grieving. You'll apologize to Frankie and it'll be fine. And you'll be fine. We'll get through this."

For the first time actually really taking in Maura's words, Jane starts to feel calmer. She exhales slowly and feels the anger seep out of her body bit by bit. But with the anger no longer clouding her mind, she also all of a sudden becomes painfully aware of Maura's hand on her cheek and the medical examiner's body so close to hers. She finds herself looking down at Maura's lips and then forces herself to look up again. But meeting Maura's eyes there, it is evident that the medical examiner knows what she's been looking at, knows what she's been thinking. Feeling embarrassed, Jane looks down.

At that, Maura gives the hand she's still holding a reassuring squeeze and says, "Jane, it's alright."

Jane glances up again and seeing Maura look at her with so much love and compassion, she slowly moves her head closer to the medical examiner's, until her lips have found their new favorite destination.

As soon as their lips have made contact, their tongues seek each other out. Feeling Maura's tongue against hers again sends a shiver down Jane's spine. Oh my God, how good this feels, she thinks. How amazing. How could you ever get enough of this? But she's craning her neck uncomfortably to be able to kiss Maura and finds herself needing to pull back so she can adjust her position. At this loss of contact, Maura lets out a soft moan. Turned on by this noise to no end, Jane quickly reattaches her lips to Maura's and sucks the medical examiner's bottom lip hard. Feeling Maura's tongue move against the inside of her top lip, Jane quickly opens up again, relishing the wet softness that meets her there. Jane grabs hold of both sides of Maura's head so that she can kiss her even more deeply. And for a few minutes their kisses are as intense as ever. Then they quickly become more gentle, softer. And for the next few minutes the women lose themselves in the most wonderfully tender kisses.

When Jane finally pulls back, Maura looks at her lovingly. The medical examiner leans in again, taking Jane's lips in between her own and allowing herself one more kiss.

Then Jane realizes that if ever they are going to talk about what's going on between them, now is the time. So, already starting to feel nervous, she looks Maura in the eye and says, "Maura, I think we should probably talk about this."

Maura looks puzzled for a second and then, realizing what Jane must be referring to, says, "Talk about these kisses, you mean?"

"Yes," Jane answers as she looks at Maura insecurely.

Noticing the discomfort and uncertainty on Jane's face, Maura says, "Jane, I really don't want you to worry about this. I'm here if you need me."

"But these kisses…" Jane starts, but then stops again. What is she going to say? But I love kissing you? I'm only worried that you're just doing this to comfort me? God this is harder than she thought it'd be.

But before she has time to find the right words, Maura, in a further effort to dispel Jane's doubts and fears, says, "The mouth is incredibly adept at providing all kinds of comfort to the distressed individual. Babies engage in what is called Non-Nutritive Sucking to soothe themselves. As we grow older, the mouth retains this function. There have been many studies that show that a great number of social and emotional benefits can be gleaned from this kind of 'comfort sucking.'"

Jane frowns and finds herself at a loss as to what to say. What on earth is Maura trying to get at? All her science talk is bad enough when they're trying to solve a case. But now it's just the worst.

Observing the puzzled expression on Jane's face, Maura continues, trying to explain, "Kissing releases such hormones as dopamine and oxytocin which create a strong sense of well-being and allow us to form stronger bonds with one another."

Getting slightly exasperated, Jane blurts out, "Maura, what are you saying here? In normal English please."

"I'm just saying that I'm here for you. You're my best friend and I know you're hurting and I know that kisses have the ability to make people feel better, and I don't want you to feel bad that you're increasing your dopamine levels by…."

"… by kissing you?"

"Yes. Exactly."

Jane inhales deeply. You're my best friend. Dopamine levels. Okay, Jane thinks, I think I get it. "So these kisses…," Jane tries one last time to make sure she hasn't misunderstood.

Eager to let Jane know once and for all that she can count on her, that she'll be there for her as Jane comes to term with Barry's death, Maura says, "… they don't bother me. Honestly, Jane, don't worry about me."

Feeling weirdly relieved that now at least she knows where she stands and grateful that the friendship seems intact, Jane takes Maura's hands into her own, looks her friend in the eye and says, "You're a great friend, Maura." She then gets up, eager to be by herself now that 'the talk' is over. When she reaches the door to Maura's office, she briefly turns around and says, "Thank you."

Maura, who's remained seated, gives her a warm smile in return. "Anytime," she says as Jane walks away.