The third press conference ended up being the last and definitely the most welcomed. The water tests had come in 2 days earlier, and the results, coupled with Agent Richards' dogged determination had blessedly turned up a suspect. After brainstorming with Maura, he had turned over every newspaper article and obituary in the 5 surrounding states over the last 5 years until he narrowed the potential lists of suspect to 7. Then 4. Then, at long last, to 1.
"We're very happy to inform the public we've made an arrest not only in the Maddie Schrivner case, but in the case of 3 other similar crimes," Agent Traore said, standing tall and proud at the podium. From behind, Maura was reminded of another strong imposing brunette. Oblivious to the doctor's thoughts, Traore continued, "My considerable thanks to the Boston Police Department and in particular, the medical examiner's office, for their assistance. It was through our collective interest in seeking out answers to these horrible crimes that we were able to bring justice to the victims and closure to their families."
It was clear the agent had done this before, and Maura envied her confidence.
"Do you have a name?" a reporter called out.
Traore's lips twisted into a smirk to bite back the obvious retort. "You mean, the suspect's name? Yes, but we'd rather not give it at this time. That will be up to the federal prosecutor."
"Was there one thing that broke the case?" another asked. "Or was it a number of things coming together?"
"A bit of both," she admitted. "We drew up a specific scenario that we thought was a very plausible one. Through endless investigation into the leads that went with that scenario, along with the scientific clues that narrowed down our options, we were able to zero in on the remaining evidence. Tracking down the suspect was then remarkably easy."
"You won't give a name, but can you give some details?"
"Such as?"
Well, how about 'why' for one thing?"
She nodded. "I understand your frustration, but please remember, I'm only interested in justice, not emotion."
"Dr. Isles!" someone called out. "What are your thoughts?"
Caught in the headlights, Maura froze, until Traore stepped aside and gestured to the podium. With a slight cough, she let the professional mask slip into place before speaking.
"As with Agent Traore, I, too, am only interested in justice. Emotions make science… difficult."
A light ring of laughter rippled over the crowd. "So explain it to us scientifically. Why does someone kill 4 children?"
She was about to protest the confusing nature of the question when she realized he, along with everyone else, just wanted answers. As a scientist, she could relate. Taking some pity on him, she began, "Psychological reasons aside, of which I wouldn't begin to claim much knowledge, we questioned the possible connection between the victims and the killer. The victims were all of similar age and died in very similar ways. Once we discovered the connection, we were able to determine the rest."
"And what was the connection?"
She glanced at Traore who gave her a warning look. Too much detail ran the risk of contaminating the case. Maura imperceptibly nodded. "We have theorized that the suspect had a child of their own, who sadly died in the same way the victims ultimately died."
There was a pause in the media gallery. "So what you're saying is, this person had a kid, the kid died and this person then went on to kill other kids the same way? Forgive me for saying, Dr. Isles, but that doesn't answer the question of 'why'. In fact, it only makes me ask it again."
Maura sympathized. "To summarize as best I can, we believe the killer tried to recreate the manner in which their child died, hoping to…" she floundered as she often did when emotion was involved.
Traore mercifully stepped in. "Hoping to make up for not saving their own child."
"And they didn't realize how crazy they were after 4 kids?" a reporter said.
"I can't comment, as 'crazy' doesn't fall under my scientific purview," Maura said.
Traore held up her hands. "That's all we're willing to say for now. Obviously, more information will be made available over the next few days and weeks as we are allowed to reveal it. Again, my thanks to all those involved who helped with what was often a very difficult case. Thank you."
They stepped off the small platform, cameras flashing at their backs. Once they reached the quietness of the BPD entrance way, Traore turned to Maura and extended a hand.
"I suppose this is it," the agent said. "Perhaps we'll meet again."
"At the trial, no doubt," Maura replied. "I'll likely be called upon to explain the water and the drugs in the victims' system."
Traore shook her head. "Out of all of it, I think that bothers me the most: drugging the kids before throwing them in the water. That implies coherent thought. She knew what she was doing."
Maura had to agree. "Considering no drugs were in her own child, yes, I'd say she knew. But how else do you get a child to go along with a drowning attempt? She had to incapacitate them in order to try and 'save' them."
Traore blew a sharp breath of disgust. "If she had only been sane enough to measure the amount of drugs."
"If only she had been sane."
The agent nodded forlornly. "Anyway, again, thank you. Sorry you had to deal with Richards. He's a good agent. He's just-"
""He just uses his abrasive personality to shield himself from the horrors of the job," Maura finished, not unkindly. "I understand. In the end, it all worked out. That's what matters."
Smiling, Traore agreed. "You did great work. If there's ever anything I can do, don't hesitate to ask."
Maura looked down at the card extended to her. She flicked the corner twice before saying, "Would it be too forward if I asked you now?"
The brunette laughed. "I'm afraid to say I'm married."
The flush burned Maura's cheeks, but she ploughed ahead. "I need a phone number."
XxXxX
"Hard to believe it's almost over, huh?" Lindy asked, playfully nudging Tiny as he watched the sound crew set up for the concert.
The big man gave one shake of his head and whistled. "Time flies, man, time flies."
Looking around, Lindy noted an absence. "Where's Jane?"
Tiny snorted. "I told her to have a nap. She's probably somewhere growling, but at least she's out of my hair. Gettin' on my tits, that girl."
Lindy's brow furrowed. "She hasn't been right all tour. You know why?"
He knew Lindy would never fully understand what Jane went through that fateful night a year ago, and he would never broach the topic with her out of respect for Jane. So instead, he offered something that was just as plausible without being as deeply personal. "Besides a certain pretty blonde in Chicago? No. No idea." He winked.
Lindy's mouth dropped. "Is she still on about that? Oh my God. I knew it. I knew it." She grinned at the memory. "She got all defensive at the whiff of me trying to set her up, and here all this time, she's been ripping off people's heads because of her?"
Tiny felt compelled to come to Jane's defense. "You know, I think she's serious."
"Really?" The singer's humour faded immediately. "I mean, that's great! God, how long have we hounded her to meet someone? And she seemed like a really nice person. The blonde, I mean."
"Maura Isles," Tiny supplied.
"Right, Maura Isles. Her sister's Cailin. Nice kid." Lindy rubbed her forehead in amazement. "Wow. So what's the story? She got the VIP pass, so you've got to have her contact info."
"Yep. And I made sure I gave it to Jane."
"Who didn't bother to use it," Lindy finished.
"I dunno," he said. "I think she did, just goin' by her mood when we hooked up in Memphis."
"I thought that was because of… you know… New Orleans."
He nodded. "Yeah, no doubt that was part of it, but I think there was more goin' on."
She bumped him with her hip, silently asking him to move over so she could lean against the wall beside him. They watched the crew go about their business, efficient and methodical. They were lost in their own thoughts for a while, thinking about the show, the job, the tour, and their friend. Suddenly, Lindy looked at Tiny.
"You've been humming that song for the last few days. What is it?"
"Hmmm?" he asked, his attention still on the crew.
She repeated the tune and asked again. "That song. What is it?"
By the time he realized where the conversation was going, it was too late, but he tried anyway. "Uh, I'm not sure. Probably heard it on the radio."
"No, I don't think so, since it's part of my job to kinda know what's on the top 40." Humming it again, she said, "So. Spill it." A light dawned in Lindy's face. "Is Jane writing again?" Giving him a minute to decide his answer, she said, "You know she wrote 3 of the songs on my first album. Didn't take writing credit for them because she was too embarrassed."
"Heard you're giving her royalties anyway."
"Of course I am. Even if she wasn't my best friend, 'Well-Worn Boots' was my first #1 hit. She deserved it, even if she didn't think so. So… she writing again?"
"Linds…"
She ignored his plaintive protest. "Stay right there." Spotting a nearby guitar, she slung the strap over her shoulder and returned to his side. After two false starts, she landed on a chord to her satisfaction. She hummed and strummed, breathing acoustic life into the tune. "That sound about right?" His lack of reply was his surrender. "Has she written lyrics to this yet?"
"Man, I am in so much trouble!"
XxXxX
"... and that was 'Blanket Under the Stars', from Lindy Keane's first album, 'Nothing to Lose'. Welcome back to The Dangerous Dave Morning Show, along with my trusty sidekick Pete Benson, and today, we've got the lady herself, Ms. Lindy Keane. How are you?"
"I'm really good, how about you guys? I have to say, this is one of the cleanest studios I have ever been in."
The radio DJs laughed in unison. "That's because we were told four days ago you were coming," Dave said boisterously.
"Hey, I'll take the credit," Pete said. "We had four days but left it 'til 6am this morning!"
"So if you see anything…objectionable, our apologies."
"I travel by tour bus. I've seen it all!" Lindy said, much to the room's amusement.
"Which gets us right back on track," Dave said. "You're on tour. Just about finishing it up though, right?"
"Yep," she replied. "Another 5 shows and it's all over. Until the next one!"
"You purposely made it a shorter tour in smaller venues. How did you like that?" Pete asked.
Lindy beamed. "Oh, I loved it. Would definitely consider doing it again."
"We played 'Blanket under the Stars', which was your biggest #1 to date. But that's been beaten by your new song, 'Everybody Knows'. That's gotta be exciting, huh?"
"I love it. And the best part is, the fans love it, too. It's such a great feeling when all those things come together at once."
Pete nodded. "We were going to play that, but I was told you wanted to play something else?"
For the first time in the interview, Jane's attention woke up. Tiny shifted beside her and she pinned him with a look. He swallowed audibly.
"Oh shit," he whispered.
Lindy didn't notice the discord taking place between her security people. She adjusted the guitar strap and settled behind the microphone. "I thought I'd play something brand new, if that's all right?" The DJs laughed at the rhetorical question. "It's still pretty rough; I haven't had a lot of time to smooth out the edges."
"It's that new, huh?"
"A few days old, in fact."
Dave smiled and rubbed his hands together. "Well, all right. Whenever you're ready."
XxXxX
The last note of the chord rang through the tiny studio and everyone was silent for a moment. Dave blinked, remembering they were on air and he coughed before saying, "Wow. For those just tuning in, you missed a real treat. In the studio with us is country music star Lindy Keane who just performed a brand new song. And I gotta tell you, I think this will be your next number one."
"Thank you so much," Lindy said. "It was a real pleasure."
"Will your fans get a chance to hear this on the rest of the tour?" Pete asked.
"We'll see," she replied. "Needs some polishing, but we'll see."
Dave shook his head. "If that needs polishing, I can't wait to hear it when it's done. In the meantime, we got to hear it now, and we're awfully grateful for it. Thank you so much, Lindy. Come on by any time. And for those listening, if you don't have tickets to tonight's show, and if you didn't win them from us, better luck next time! The weather's up next."
He clicked the button and slid the headphones off. "That really was great, Lindy. We're going to get a lot of people calling in."
She shook hands and smiled. "Thank you so much for the support. You guys have been around since the beginning. I don't forget."
She posed for some photos and signed some autographs while Jane glowered in the corner. Tiny made an attempt to escape, but Jane's grip was iron. Finally, the small crew dispersed and it was business as usual. Lindy strolled over to the pair and grinned.
"What the hell was that all about?" Jane hissed under her breath.
Lindy's grin slipped slightly. "What was what all about?"
Jane dragged Tiny towards the Green Room, signalling with her eyes for Lindy to follow. Once they were alone in the quiet waiting room, she spun around to the singer. "That!" she said, jabbing a finger towards the studio. "That song." She shot a glare at Tiny. "How could you?"
"Jane, I-"
"It's not his fault," Lindy interrupted. "He was humming it and I hounded him until he gave in. Jane, it's beautiful."
Too consumed with anger, she ignored the compliment. "Both of you... " she struggled for words. "Do you know how betrayed I feel? Do you even care?" She directed her last comment to Lindy.
"Of course I care. We both do. This wasn't meant to embarrass you. It was meant to help you get these… whatever… feelings out." Lindy waved her hands around aimlessly. "I don't know what has happened to you since Chicago, but this… this is beautiful and from the heart, and she needs to know it."
The unspoken name of 'she' hung in the room. Jane blew out an angry defeated breath. "Yeah, well, I tried." She looked at Tiny. "Yeah, I called her. Left a message. She never called back. So forgive me if I want to take this 'beautiful and from the heart'," she mimicked, "and shove it up someone's ass." She turned to the door. "I'll meet you guys on the bus."
She heard Tiny call out her name, but she kept walking, grateful when the elevator arrived immediately and she could be left alone. Her heart was racing, the anger fading into disappointment. The tour can't be over fast enough, she thought. The dark cloud followed her out of the elevator and into the street. The fresh air did nothing to lift her mood.
Then her phone buzzed.
Thinking it was Lindy or Tiny, she almost ignored it, but her professionalism won out, and she pulled the phone from her pocket. The display caught her off guard. A Boston area code and a phone number that looked vaguely familiar. She swiped a thumb across the screen to open the message.
Hi, it's Maura. Maura Isles.
XxXxX
