Chapter 9. Searching

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own the characters. They belong to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro and TNT. Just taking them out for some air and a stroll around the park.

The Waterfront Hotel had been built three years before, when the Boston City council was trying to revitalize the waterfront area. It had long been a scene of rapes, murders and drug addicts looking to get high. Boston PD regularly posted cops at the waterfront area for this reason.

When the homeless problem became pronounced, it was no more obvious than at the waterfront. A lot of the seedier motels became dumping grounds for those who could not provide for themselves. The motels had been popular among families vacationing in the area forty, fifty years ago but now, no respectable person would walk into any one of them unless it was an extreme emergency.

The tall brunette pushed her shopping cart toward The Twilight Zone motel. Several garbage bags stuffed full of belongings rested in the cart. She reached up and pulled her beanie farther down on her head, wishing she could have found a better cap to wear than this, but Frankie had apparently taken all of his good caps when he moved out. Jane refused to wear her beloved Red Sox cap in this charade. It was bad enough she had to sacrifice a pair of jeans and a comfortable t-shirt, to tear in places to help her disguise.

As she pushed the cart down the street Jane slowly swung her head back and forth, to take in all of the various people she saw living in cardboard boxes or hidden in bushes. One man built a cardboard lean-to at the edge of the sand. No one looked at Jane as she passed or seemed curious to see her.

Good, she thought. I probably look like someone else down on her luck, looking for cans and bottles to recycle for something to drink. Jane spied a small alley and turned her cart to go through to the other street.

"Hey, girlie, watcha doin'?" A voice yelled at her and grabbed the back of Jane's shirt.

"Hey, man, watch it. I got this shirt at Salvation Army with my last fifty cents," Jane protested.

"My territory, girlie. Get yourself another area," the man looked to be about sixty, sixty-five years old. Jane put up her hands in surrender.

"Yeah, man, I got it. No competition. I don't want no trouble. I just thought I'd cut through to the other side of the street."

"Cost ya. Whatcha got?"

"Whaddya want?" Jane asked. The man thought for a moment.

"Ten cents." Jane dug in her pockets. She came up with a coin.

"Nickel okay? It's all I got," she replied. The man looked her up and down then accepted the nickel.

"Yeah, okay. Just 'member, it's fifteen cents next time."

"Yeah, yeah," Jane said. She glanced around as quickly as she could. No other person was in the alley. No Hoyt. She almost sighed in frustration.

Jane was not on call that weekend. When she thought of going undercover as a homeless person she called Korsak, who, of course, did his best to talk her out of her plan.

"Jane, do you know what Cavanaugh would do if something happened to you while you did this?"

"I got a pretty good idea, Korsak. But I have to do something. It's as if Hoyt's disappeared again. He's too good at coming out of the woodwork when he wants something but then he fades back through the floorboards. We have to find him. Until we do I have no chance at getting Maura back." Korsak was silent.

"What if she's gone for good, Jane?" he finally asked. Jane jumped off the edge of her desk and punched the wall.

"She's coming back to me, dammit, Korsak!" Jane yelled. "I just need to get Hoyt back behind bars!"

"Okay, Janie, we'll do it your way. Keep your phone with you all the time and I'll keep mine on 24/7. You call at any time, you hear me? And if you see that bastard you keep a low profile until backup arrives."

The sun was beginning to set low in the sky. Jane scoped out an area where she could park her shopping cart and spend part of the night. It was behind the dumpster across the street from the A&P. From this vantage point Jane could see most of the area in front of the Waterfront. Her gut told her Hoyt was staying near there somewhere.

Jane hid behind her shopping cart and watched the street. She saw her mother's best friend and neighborhood gossip, Carla Tulucci, hit on the butcher over at the A&P as he followed her to her car to load her groceries. She grinned at that; old Mr. Tulucci was being put out to pasture by his wife. She was going after someone young. But no Hoyt; it was shaping up to be a quiet night.

It grew colder with a hint of snow in the offing. Jane pulled her jacket closer around her. She didn't want to run the risk of getting sick. The A&P closed at eleven. The neon lights dimmed and the street was that much darker. Her eyelids grew heavy and Jane's head slumped to her chest.

She was chasing a figure just out of reach. She couldn't make out who it was. At first it was Maura, then it changed to Hoyt. He stopped suddenly, stared at her with that greasy grin. "Hi, Jane. We meet again." Jane woke with a start. Her eyes wide open she scanned the area. No movement, nothing. She'd been dreaming.

Jane stood, straightening cramped legs. Checking her cell phone she noticed it was just after one a.m. In the distance a pair of headlights grew larger, then swept to Jane's right as the car entered the Waterfront's parking garage. Jane stared up at the hotel.

"How many people stay for vacation at this time of year?" she muttered to herself. "Are there any permanent residents?"

Thinking over the thought of year round residents at the Waterfront Jane grew excited. This was something none of them thought of. If Hoyt had no means to pay for a room, it made sense he might break into one of the apartments, especially if the regular residents weren't using it, or if an apartment was empty. She texted Frost and asked him to check out any long-term rentals at the Waterfront, and if there were any reports of unusual or suspicious activity in any of them.

Getting behind the steering wheel of her car she pulled away from the fleabag area and headed to Maura's. Jane wanted to see for herself if her wife was okay.

Parking the car across the street and down a few houses Jane kept watch. Maura's house was dark in front with a light on in the back-their bedroom light. No foreign cars were parked in the driveway to indicate Maura had any company. Jane watched for an hour and then fell asleep.

As the night grew colder Jane hunched further into her jacket. She was so tired and sleepy she couldn't wake up enough to drive herself the rest of the way home. She also didn't see Maura open the front door, walk down the street to Jane's car and inspect the sleeping detective. Twenty minutes later Frankie drove up, parked behind Jane, and rapped on her window. Jane startled awake.

"Frankie! What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Out looking for you, Jane. Come on, let's get you home. I'll drive and you can sleep."

"How did you know where to find me?"

"Where else would I look for you, Jane?" he neglected to tell her Maura called him, concerned that Jane would catch a cold or some other disease by sleeping in the night air.

The next morning Jane received a reply by text from Frost. He researched the permanent residents of the Waterfront and found two penthouse style suites that were currently unoccupied.

"One of the residents is visiting family in Florida, Jane. Suite 921. The manager of the private residences said a college student is house-sitting so it's not completely unoccupied. The other suite is across the hall and is vacant at this time. The last resident moved out four months ago and it hasn't been rented yet. And, Jane, this suite has a balcony that overlooks most of the waterfront and harbor area-perfect if someone needs to watch comings and goings."

"Thanks, Frost. I appreciate the help."

"You need me to help you today, partner? I don't mind."

"No. I want to keep this as light an operation as possible. I don't want Cavanaugh climbing down everyone's neck."

"There's safety in numbers, Jane. Remember that. I'm here if you need me," Frost said and clicked off.

Frankie dropped Jane off to pick up her car in front of Maura's. They arrived just as Maura was backing out of the driveway. Jane stopped and watched after Maura for a minute; there was a fleeting moment of eye contact as Maura saw Jane exit Frankie's car. Maura continued up the street without stopping. Jane looked at Frankie.

"How did you know to find me here last night, Frankie?" she asked.

"Where else would you be, Jane? If it were me, I'd have been here, too," he replied.

"Nah, Frankie, you still wouldn't have thought of it," Jane protested. Frankie hesitated.

"She called. She saw you out here, came out to tell you to go home but you were sound asleep. Maura got afraid you might try to drive yourself home and be too tired to get there safely," Frankie said simply. Jane couldn't say anything for the lump in her throat.

The second day of watching the streets seemed familiar to Jane. She intended to find out what she could about their John Doe from the other street inhabitants. She studied the file Friday afternoon before leaving the precinct and had taken a copy of the photograph of his face. Late Friday afternoon Frost found John Doe's fingerprints in the system from an old drunk and disorderly charge.

"His name is Walter Adamson, seventy-eight years old. Used to live over on Maple Avenue but that address is twenty years old. No other information in the system, Jane, other than his vitals, which match Maura's autopsy report."

"Thanks, Frost. I'll see what I can find out," Jane replied. "I'll drop it on your desk and make it look like Korsak's file." Frost nodded and left for the weekend.

Jane took out the photo now and studied it. Walter looked like almost any other senior citizen that had grown old and died in Boston, except he died on the streets with a message for Jane carved in his chest.

An older woman who Jane saw the day before pulled a smaller cart down the street. She was dressed in layers, but much like Jane in jeans and a t-shirt. A heavy coat obscured most of her clothing. Casually walking up to Jane's dumpster she opened the lid and started searching through the trash.

"Good morning," Jane said and smiled.

"Good morning, dearie, how are you today?" Jane received a toothless smile in return.

"May I ask your name?"

"Sarah McIntire, and yes, dearie, I'm Irish."

"I'm Jane. Nice to meet you, Sarah. Have you lived here long?"

"All my life," the woman replied proudly. "My da worked the docks and my ma took in laundry. I married Blackie McIntire nearly forty years ago. He's been gone now for a long time."

"How about being on the streets?" Jane asked.

"Oh, dear, about five years now. My house burned down and I lost it all. I spend my days watching out for the others."

"You do?" Jane asked, hope surging inside her. Maybe this woman noticed Hoyt's comings and goings.

"Yes, of course. For example I saw you yesterday for the first time. You're not one of us, dearie. Nice try. You from Southie?"

"Yes," Jane coughed to cover up a slight chuckle. This woman would make a good detective.

"Tell me, Sarah. You see this man around here recently?" Jane pulled out a picture of Hoyt. Sarah scrunched her eyes and studied the photo.

"No, can't say I have. Looks like one of them city fellers that get themselves all slicked up for city functions. Seen a few of them around here over the years as they've tried to spruce the place up a bit."

"Okay, well, how about this man?" This time Jane showed Sarah the photo of Walter Abramson. Sarah's eyes welled up with tears and her face began to crumple.

"Wally!" she wailed. "Where is he?" She began to beat on Jane's chest with her fists. "What have you done with Walter!" she demanded to know.

"Hey, it's okay, Sarah. I didn't take him. You knew Walter, then?"

Sarah nodded, wiping her tears with a dirty hand. "Nice man. Father to a lot of us here. Watches out like I do. Haven't seen him for about a week. I ran into him the same day the hotel had that big 'do'. Walter said a man hired him to watch something. He was going to pay Walter a hundred dollars. Wally said it was just enough to help him get a small room for the winter, he'd been saving. But I haven't seen him since."

Jane gently explained Walter's circumstances to Sarah who started crying in earnest. She couldn't give Jane any more information and Jane left to speak with the Waterfront manager.

"Excuse me, ma'am, you can't go in there," the doorman blocked Jane's path. She smiled at him.

"I'm working undercover, buddy," she said, flashing her badge and gun. His eyes grew wide but he moved. Jane entered the hotel and scanned the mailboxes in the corner before moving to the front desk.

She inquired after the manager and was told he'd be on duty after two that afternoon. The rest of the information matched what Frost told her about the permanent residences. Jane decided to leave and get cleaned up to return later. She planned to be busy checking out the residences and setting up a trap to lure Hoyt.

Heading for home she once again detoured past Maura's. Without thinking she parked across the street and got out of her car. Jane found herself ringing the doorbell before she changed her mind.

Just as Jane was beginning to think Maura wasn't home she heard footsteps approach. Maura opened the door and stared at her.

"Jane! What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to say thanks for calling Frankie last night." Maura took in Jane's appearance.

"Undercover work," Jane said briefly. Neither woman spoke.

"Well, I guess I'd better go. I want to rest and get cleaned up before I head back out on the streets later."

"You're welcome for last night. But Jane, please don't come back here anymore, it just complicates things."

Jane stared at Maura's face. "We were happy once."

"Yes, we were. Once. We need to move on, Jane. Don't come by again," Maura was a little more forceful in her words. Jane opened her mouth but didn't say anything. Maura stepped back and closed the door firmly in Jane's face. Jane turned and left.

I have to catch this bastard before everything we had is completely gone, she thought. She didn't see Maura watch her leave.