Chapter 14

Jab. Jab. Cross.

Sweat ran down Jane's face as she worked over the heavy bag in front of her.

Jab. Jab. Hook.

She hit the bag again and again.

Uppercut. Jab. Cross.

All her strength into every punch. Her arms ached. Her hands stung.

Jab. Jab. Jab.

Her breathing was rapid but controlled. From a cardiovascular standpoint she could go another thirty minutes. But she wasn't sure her arms and hands would last that long.

Uppercut. Uppercut. Cross. Cross.

She kept punching. Kept hitting. Trying to work herself out of her own head. But she felt trapped there. Too much was happening all at the same time.

Hook. Hook. Hook. Hook.

She was approaching her level of exhaustion. She knew it. So she went for it.

Jab. Jab. Cross. Cross. Uppercut. Uppercut. Hook. Hook.

And then she was done. Not mentally done. But physically done. Her arms would no longer work for her. Her hands would not unclench from the fists they had been maintaining for the last forty-five minutes. She stood panting and staring down the slowly swaying heavy bag in front of her.

"Son of a Bitch!" It wasn't a yell. It was more of a statement.

"Jane?" the voice was quiet but stern. Warm even.

She didn't turn around.

"Jane?" A little louder this time.

She still didn't turn around.

"Jane. It was a clean shoot. You didn't have a choice."

This got her to turn around. Her eyes went straight to the voice. "I know it was a clean shoot. Doesn't make it easier." And then she dropped her gaze.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I should have…."

"Should have what? There wasn't anything you could have done differently. Hell, there wasn't anything I could have done differently. And I was there. So if I couldn't have stopped it you certainly couldn't have."

Korsak nodded his head. He knew she was right. There wasn't anything he could have done even if he had been there. It was a routine notification. Frost and Jane had simply knocked on the door for the home of Alex Johnston with the intention of letting the family know that Johnston had been found murdered and possibly gather some information on the movements of Johnston in the days before he was killed.

Neither Jane nor Frost anticipated any confrontation. As cops, both were trained to be on their toes and aware of their surroundings. To look for the clues that a situation was going south and to anticipate and react to potential danger. Neither expected the victim's brother Anthony to be at the house. But he was. Neither expected Anthony to flee. But he did. Neither expected him to pull a gun making Jane have to discharge hers first before he could fire at Frost. But she had. And Anthony Johnston was now dead.

Internal Affairs worked quickly to clear Jane in the shooting. Cavanaugh worked even quicker. Officer involved shootings can destroy a career if not handled correctly and Cavanaugh had lined up every witness and statement in record time. Even Johnston's family knew it was Anthony's fault. Their statements all backed up the statements taken from Frost and Jane. Anthony panicked as soon as Jane announced they were detectives. He bolted past them and took off running. Frost and Jane pursued. A cop's instinct. Runners run for a reason. Guilt is usually that reason.

Frost had a beat on Anthony. Jane wasn't far behind. Neither saw how he managed to grab the garbage can and throw it perfectly into Frost that it caused Frost to topple over. Neither saw how he stopped on a dime and had the .22 out and taking aim before Frost's tumbling body slowed down. Jane's draw of her gun was faster than Anthony's. Not by much. But by enough. That allowed her one cry of "Drop it!" for Anthony to completely ignore. And Jane was faster squeezing the trigger than Anthony. He never got off a round.

IAD cleared Jane that night. A rarity. But the evidence was overwhelmingly in Jane's favor. The only demand Cavanaugh made of Jane was that she take the weekend off. He wasn't even going to push the mandatory psych visit. She would have to as a formality but he was vague about her absolute deadline for that fulfillment. She protested about the weekend. The case was still open. The picture was getting clearer but there were loose ends to tie up.

But she lost the argument. Cavanaugh insisted that Korsak could handle most of the loose ends over the weekend. Frost was ordered to be off for the weekend too. They received confirmation from Messier that he was able to bring in Craig on parole violations for associating with known felons and also an added bonus of possession of a controlled substance. He was safely locked up until at least Monday and no one anticipated an issue with revocation of parole. That would buy the team plenty of time to tie both Johnston and Craig to the murders of Pollard and Johnston. The physical evidence was mounting. All they were really missing was motive. And Cavanaugh decided the State's Attorney could have their investigators worry about that. He was satisfied with the closure of this case from BPD's perspective.

Jane and Frost, once statements were finished and the dust settled, retreated to The Dirty Robber. Jane got Frost drunk. It was normal after something like this. Jane drank in moderation. Too much was still going on for her to let loose in alcohol. But she made sure Frost was sufficiently hammered. They didn't talk about it. That's not what cops do. She didn't expect a thank you. She didn't want one. She knew if the roles had been reversed he would have done the same thing. They had each other's backs. And they both knew it. That was all that mattered. She put Frost in a cab and tipped the cabbie extra to make sure Frost got all the way into his apartment. She went back to the station. She couldn't face her empty apartment. And she still couldn't face Maura.

So that is how Korsak found Jane pummeling the heavy bag in the BPD gym at 2 am. The overnight desk sergeant called him to let him know she had returned. He had hoped she would have gone home to Maura. But she hadn't. And for that, he had had enough.

"Jane, why aren't you home with Maura?"

She didn't say anything. She stood still with her arms hanging like dead weight against her body. Fists still clenched. The only change within her was her breathing was starting to even out.

Somehow Korsak knew she was having issues with her hands. Slowly he approached her and gently took her right hand into his. He didn't make eye contact with her instead concentrating on slowly unlacing the strings of the glove that was on her hand. He loosened the string as much as he could and he slowly pulled off the glove. Jane's hand remained in a tight fist. He repeated the same movements with her left hand quicker this time and within a few seconds he had both hands free from the gloves. But both remained tightly clenched.

He took her right hand into both of his a second time. Slowly, very slowly he worked to free each finger starting with the thumb. Finger by finger he loosened the grasp enough that her hand went from a tight fist to a loose half curled claw. But the pressure was released. Again, he repeated the same motions for her left hand as well. He stepped back and looked at Jane. The freeing of her hands seemed to relax her just a bit.

"Why aren't you at home with Maura, Jane?"

"She's mad at me," the answer came out as a whisper.

"Why is she mad at you?"

"Because I won't tell her something."

"Why won't you?" He knew enough not to go straight to the question of what she wouldn't tell her.

"Because I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want her to know."

"Why?"

There was silence for what seemed like an eternity. And then, "Vince?"

"Yes?"

"Did you ever tell any of your wives the worst thing about yourself? The worst thing you have ever done?"

He thought for a second. He had four of them he had to think about. But really he knew before he went through the list. "No."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't love any of them the way you love her. And they didn't love me the way she loves you."

"And if I lose her?"

"Then at least you made it her choice. If you don't tell her, it will always be your choice. And you'll lose her for sure. Don't decide for her. That's not fair to either of you."

Jane released a heavy sigh.

"Jane. I don't know what it is that you can't or won't tell Maura. I know you well enough to know you think it's bad. I think you think it's something unforgiveable. I can only tell you that I have watched the two of you for years now. I have watched your relationship grow from friendship into love. A kind of love not many people in this world have.

"I will tell you that this is the time for you to trust in that love. To trust in the one that loves you back. Otherwise you are giving in to fear and you are better than that. Your life with Maura is better than that. Can you ever imagine not loving her?"

"No…" again the answer was a whisper.

"Then trust that she can't either."

She didn't say anything for a minute. "Vince?"

"Yes?"

"Will you drive me home?"

"Sure."

He took Jane back to her apartment. At 3 am even he knew that she wasn't going to ask to taken to Maura's. He got Jane into her apartment and even helped her into bed. He had decided when he first got the call from the desk sergeant that he would stay the night to watch over her. So he made himself as comfortable as he could on her couch. Both found sleep quickly as it was the end of a very long day.

The sound of a key in a lock was what first stirred his sleep. The sound of heels hitting the floor made him sit up and look around. When his eyes could focus they focused on Maura entering Jane's apartment.

"Vince?" she said a little startled to see him on the couch.

"Maura," he answered with still some sleep to his voice.

"Vince I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I didn't think anyone else was here."

He sat up and tried to stretch. He knew his body would rebel against having slept on a couch all night. He was stiff. "That's alright. I needed to get up anyway."

Maura looked at Jane's closed bedroom door. "How is she?"

"You heard about Johnston I assume."

Maura nodded. "Angela told me this morning. I wish she would have called me. Or dispatch. Or someone should have called me."

"Sorry. Jane insisted that we not call you. I wasn't up to arguing against that with her last night."

She nodded again. "Is she ok?"

"About the shooting, yes. It was a clean shoot. She saved Frost. She'll be ok with that."

"And everything else?"

"Doc, that's between the two of you."

Maura nodded.

Korsak got up to leave. His work here was done. Before exiting he turned to Maura. "It's not my business but mind if I say one thing?"

"Go ahead."

"She wants to tell you. For the first time since I've known her she actually wants to say whatever the hell it is that scares her to someone. You are the one and the only one. Don't let her not tell you. No matter what. She needs to get it out." He paused. "And I think she will. But be patient with her."

"Thanks Vince." And he walked out.

Maura slowly approached Jane's bedroom door. She steadied herself and slowly opened the door. Looking into the room she saw Jane curled up in the fetal position and asleep on a corner of the bed. She looked so small and vulnerable.

Maura made her way over to Jane. She paused when she reached the bed and then slowly bent down and gently kissed Jane's forehead. She wasn't going to wake her. Jane needed the sleep. She straightened up and looked down at the still sleeping beauty.

"Today's the day Jane. You will deal with your past. We will deal with it together." It was a whisper so soft Maura wondered if she hadn't thought it instead of said it. She quietly exited the room and settled in waiting for Jane to wake up on her own.