A/N: Just FYI, Dr. Byron is actually supposed to be Dr. Byron Sluckey, but I hate the name Sluckey/think it's kinda stupid, so I didn't want to use it. Also, for the characters Stark and Scarlett in this chapter - Stark is modeled after Hoyt's apprentice in the episode where they attack Jane and Maura in the hospital. Scarlett is supposed to be the bartender from "I Kissed A Girl," who didn't actually have a name on the show.

By the third week of November, Maura Isles had fast become a household name in the tri-county area. She hadn't travelled with Dr. Byron farther than Wohaw Springs, but her reputation had spread like wildfire through word of mouth. Men thought it was charming to have such a lovely doctor, and then were always left impressed with the abilities Dr. Byron was so happy to let her showcase. Women found it an unspeakable comfort to have a lady doctor nearby—especially when it came to childbirth. Maura was no expert midwife, but she had helped bring seven new souls into the world.

She was also coming to respect Tommy more. Upon first meeting him, she had gotten the impression that he was a bit of a rascal, but ever since Jane's unexpected departure, he had been nothing but kind and open with her. They played chess almost every day, with Jo sitting by Maura's feet and Angela telling off some drunkard in the background. Frankie tried to be on hand whenever he could for these games, because he wasn't sure how he felt about an engaged woman playing chess with his troublemaker brother. But Maura seemed to know what she was doing, and Frankie figured that if things ever got out of hand… well, Korsak could finally have an excuse to give Tommy a stint in a cell, something Frankie often thought would do the scamp good.

Frankie knew had no place to tell Maura what she ought to be doing if her own fiancé was fine with it, and to general surprise, Garrett thought the Rizzoli boys were great. His main reason for believing this was that when he had introduced the sport of Massachusetts baseball to the men in Hollow Creek, he was met with general enthusiasm, but Tommy and Frankie were clear born players. Games were always more exciting when they were involved, and their unmatched abilities easily won them the hard-earned respect of Garrett Fairfield. Though he knew very little of them off the makeshift baseball diamond, he took their good sportsmanship as a sign of their respectability, and resultantly felt more than comfortable allowing Maura to spend time with them.

After one close chess game that finally ended with Tommy's victory, Maura laughed and said, "I have to say, Tommy, it's been such a pleasure discovering that people out here enjoy this game."

"Ah, we may act like an uncivilized bunch of hooligans half the time, but that don't keep us from remembering our manners now and then," said Tommy. He gestured to the board. "Chess is a gentleman's game. Gotta make up for the fact that I never got a good education, like I bet all those guys back in Boston have."

"A lack of formal education doesn't make a person unintelligent," Maura said. "Chess is a difficult game, and playing it as well as you do indicates a brilliant mind."

He grinned. "Brilliant, huh? You hear that Frankie?" he called. "The doctor says I'm brilliant!"

"Well there's a first," said Frankie from his position at the bar, where he was working on his card shuffling. "Dr. Isles, you shouldn't encourage him."

"I don't think there's ever anything wrong with a little encouragement," Maura said, smiling innocently at Tommy.

Frankie did not share this sentiment, and was about to say so when Korsak entered the saloon, waving an envelope. The brothers rushed over together, not even saying hello before tearing the thing out of Korsak's hand. Angela ran over as well, reading the letter over Frankie's shoulder as Tommy bugged one of them to read it out loud. Angela obliged, impatiently snatching the letter away from Frankie, holding it aloft and reading it aloud:

"'Dear Angela, Frankie, and Tommy – turns out Frost's girl has gone and got herself a husband!' Oh dear, ain't that something? 'Luckily he's a very nice fellow from Georgia and he treats her nice. We've just been getting acquainted, but I suppose we ought to be heading back soon. In fact, she invited us to spend Thanksgiving with them, but I said we already had plans back at Hollow Creek.' Oh, boys! She'll be coming home for the holiday!"

"Gosh," Frankie laughed. "Can't remember the last time she's been here for one of those!"

Angela finished the letter: "'I hope you've been treating Jo good and spending time with Dr. Isles if she's had time to hang around.'" All three of them looked over at Maura, whose heart had taken an uncomfortable leap at the mention of her name. "'I also hope you know I've missed you and am excited to be seeing you again soon. Much love, Jane.'"

"Gee, that's the second letter we've got in less than a month," Tommy calculated. "They must be close by."

"I wonder why she didn't tell us where she'd gone?" Angela said with a frown, turning over the paper as if hoping to see a stamp or other indicator of their location.

"Dr. Isles, can I have a word?" Korsak asked, and Maura only just realized he had been hanging by the door. She bid farewell to Angela and the boys, then followed the Sheriff back outside. After leading her around the side of the building, he pulled another envelope out of his inside coat pocket. Opening it with a flourish, he missed the look of anticipation on Maura's face as she hoped maybe this was a letter intended for her. "Wanted to share something with you," Korsak said, taking out his glasses. "This is from Jane. I'm not sure how much of this she wanted me to tell you, but I'm using my own discretion. Let's see …oh, yes." He cleared his throat. "'…you'll be glad to know that Jake is being pretty careful, or at least so far. We think…' Oh, hold on, let me find it… 'Do you see much of Dr. Isles these days? How's she getting along? I have to admit I took a fast liking to her and almost regret taking off so quick, because she seemed to appreciate my help. If you see her, tell her I said hello, and I hope she'll be willing to talk at least a little when I get back at Thanksgiving.'"

"Why doesn't she think I would talk to her?" Maura asked.

Korsak shrugged, folding the letter and stowing it again. "On account of how fast she left, without saying goodbye."

"Oh." That's a fair point. "Sheriff, if Jane can't read, how can she write those letters?"

"She doesn't," Korsak said. "Frost does. I mean, Jane tells him what to say, of course, but he's the one who puts them on paper. So?"

"So what?"

"You gonna talk to her when she gets back?"

Maura frowned. "Is there any reason I should?"

"She likes you. That don't happen often."

"Then why'd she…" Maura sighed, folding her arms because she didn't know what else to do with them. "How could she just take off the way she did? Sheriff, where is she really?"

"Ain't my place to tell ya that," Korsak said. "You want to know these things, you ask Jane yourself. I get the impression that with a little work on your part, she'd tell you just about anything you'd like to know."

And as Korsak walked away, Maura had to admit she was frustrated. She had been good at keeping busy with work and with Garrett, but if she were to be totally honest with herself, her thoughts drifted back to Jane more than she would have expected. It seemed as though her feelings kept changing: she was annoyed at Jane one minute for leaving without saying goodbye, but then felt that if this was a commonplace thing for Jane to do for her own family, why should it be any different for a woman she had just met? Where had she gone, what was she doing? Why did Maura feel like she had a right to know the answer to these things? She and Jane had only known each other two days… still, those had been Maura's first two days out in this new terrain. Maybe that's why an attachment had formed so quickly, and why it felt like Hollow Creek was empty without her.

I wonder what Jane's doing right now…

The proper thing to think would be to wonder what Jake was doing right now. After days of futile leads, the only thing Frost and Jane knew for sure was that the murderer had slipped away. It wasn't until the third week of their venture that they picked up his trail again, and Jane, in her trusty disguise, sauntered into a bar feeling more confident than usual. The previous night, they had gotten a tip about a shady, older man who had taken to loitering outside the women's entrances to saloons, sometimes walking behind ladies he saw leaving with weak-looking men. His name was Stark, and the bar Jane was currently sitting at was one he'd been frequenting as of late. Frost was outside scanning the crowds of people passing or walking in, keeping the physical description of Stark in his head and talking to anyone who fit it. Then he'd lead him inside and give Jane the heads-up.

"What can I get for you, sir?"

Jane glanced up at the barmaid who was standing in front of her, and she almost jumped. This woman looked remarkably like Maura Isles: same hair color and length, and even a similar looking nose. But her eyes were a bright blue. Lovely in their own right, but nowhere near as warm as Maura's hazel ones. If Jane still looked startled, the woman didn't seem to notice, as she herself was coming to her own realization.

"Are you…?" she asked slowly, cutting herself off as she didn't know whether or not she should keep going.

With a knowing wink, Jane said, "Thirsty? Yes, ma'am. I'll take a rye whiskey."

"Yes, sir," she said in a weak voice, rushing to get the drink. She took a shot herself for the nerves she needed to talk again. Once she came back, handing Jane the glass, she said, "If you'll allow me to say so, those wanted posters don't half do you justice."

"Why thank you," Jane said before taking a long drink.

The girl folded her arms on the bar and continued to stare at Jane with intense curiosity. "You're not even trying to disguise who you are. How come you never been caught?"

"Oh, people have tried, Miss…"

"Scarlett."

Jane smiled. "Scarlett. But they all know there ain't no reward high enough for the trouble of messin' with me. You see that cricket bug right there?" she asked, nodding at a cricket on the floor a few feet away. Scarlett nodded, and Jane pulled a knife out of her shirt pocket. With a casual flick of the wrist, the knife sliced through its insect target and hit the wood floor with an ominous thud. The barmaid gasped, as did a few other people in the bar who couldn't help noticing someone had just thrown a knife. Scarlett's eyes were wide and a smile tugged at her open lips. "You think that's somethin', you oughtta see me with a gun," Jane said over her glass before finishing off the drink.

"Is that so?" Scarlett asked, raising an eyebrow.

With a smirk, Jane said "yeah" in the huskiest voice she could muster.

Scarlett bit her lip, looking around to make sure no one could hear what she was about to say. Jake Wyatt usually had one of two effects on people: they swarmed at him like moths to a rogue, mysterious flame, or they gave him as much space as possible. The latter was the case in this particular bar, which not surprising because it was only the afternoon and the more rowdy customers had yet to arrive.

"I have a proposition for you," Scarlett whispered. Jane leaned in closer. Typically she understood this to mean "let's go have sex," but something told her Scarlett was after more than that. Clearly pleased that she had aroused Jane's interest, Scarlett said, "Meet me behind the building on the hour? We can go someplace a little more… private."

"I'll be there," Jane said before holding up her empty glass. "Top me off?"

"On the house."

About twenty minutes later, Jane exited the bar, leaning against the outer wall near the spot where Frost was sitting. She lit up a cigar and started to smoke it, and when she spoke, she barely moved her lips. Anyone walking by would never have assumed she was talking to Frost. Pulling down the brim of her hat and inclining her head also helped insure a relatively low profile.

"No dice, huh?" she asked.

"Nope."

"Think I may have something."

"Yeah?"

Jane took a long draw and puffed out a ring of smoke. "Girl at the bar."

"Girls at bars always talk to you, Jake."

"Yeah, but I think this one's different. She seemed …I dunno how to put it, exactly. Anyway, might be somethin'. I'm meeting her in five minutes."

"And what're you aimin' to do, exactly?"

"See if she knows anything."

"Uh-huh…and through what means?"

"Whatever seems appropriate."

Frost frowned and stole a glance up at Jane. She kept her eyes on a tiny lizard making its way across the dirt and under a rock. "Ain't ever got a tip from a woman before, Jake. They don't like to get involved. Wouldn't she be more open to sharing something with another woman?"

"No wonder you ain't married, Frost," Jane chuckled. "She'll want to impress me."

"If she knows anything."

"Yeah, I suppose. It'll be dark out soon, anyway."

"So…"

"Never mind."

At the appointed time, Jane waltzed around to the back of the bar to see Scarlett stepping out of it. The sun was almost set, but there was still enough light for Jane to be able to tell how shamelessly Scarlett was sizing her up. It was around this time that Jane noticed Scarlett's dress had been designed to flaunt her ample chest quite a bit. She must have been staring, because after a few moments, Scarlett said:

"Seems we both see something we like. Why don't you follow me?"

Jane walked behind her, down a dusty pathway towards some barns. The clamor of the town got farther and farther away as the sky got darker and darker, until they had reached the last and most isolated barn. They ducked inside, and Scarlett picked up a pistol that was hanging on the nearest wall. She didn't have to say anything else or look over her shoulder to make sure Jane was watching; she knew she had the full attention of the person behind her. And Jane had to admit she was rather impressed when the woman took aim in near darkness and hit a hinge on the door of the wall opposite.

"Very nice," Jane said, her voice little more than a deep rumble.

Scarlett placed the pistol back on the wall and turned triumphantly to face Jane. "I noticed you been by yourself today."

"True."

"I'd like to offer my services to you."

"Services?"

"Don't be coy," Scarlett snickered, walking closer. She backed Jane up against the wall and slid her hands down Jane's sides before settling them on her waist. "I think we both know there's plenty I could do for you."

And before Jane could stop her or protest, Scarlett leaned in and kissed her neck. Jane held her breath, suddenly very aware of every particle in her body, and all the more nervous because at the last second her vision had tricked her again into thinking this woman was Maura. Scarlett smirked to herself, sensing that she was making an impression; she let her hands run up Jane's back, digging her nails in and sucking on Jane's earlobe. Jane closed her eyes and breathed in deep, letting herself enjoy the sensation for a moment. After the first time a barmaid had made an advance on her as Jake, she'd never let a brazen woman get close enough to try anything with her again - she flirted, she danced close to letting something happen, but she was always the instigator leaving women wanting more. Scarlett hadn't been coy in the slightest, not giving Jane time to pivot. Finally Jane came to her senses, and with a heavy exhale, she put her hands on Scarlett's arms and pushed her away. The darkness hid the dark blush that had crept into her cheeks, but could do nothing to disguise the heaviness of her breathing.

"There's more where that came from," Scarlett said.

"What makes you any different?" Jane grunted.

"How do you mean?"

"I think you know I have women fallin' all over me everywhere I go," Jane said, and she managed to make it sound like a simple fact of life, not bragging. "I've had dozens try to get me to take them along with me. Why should I take you?"

"You saw me just now," Scarlett said. "With that gun. That wasn't chance, Mr. Wyatt. I'm an expert."

"And? You think I don't know women who can shoot a gun? Hell, the other day I met one who was better with a bow and arrow than an Indian would be!"

"I've got experience," Scarlett said, her voice laced with confidence.

"What kind?" Jane asked.

Even though there was no one around, Scarlett lowered her voice, and it was clear how pleased she was with herself: "You hear about that couple over in Claire Valley?"

Jane's heart almost stopped. "The husband and wife?"

"Yes."

"That was… that was you?"

"Well, yes and no. I helped… disable them. My partner did the assaulting."

Jane bristled at the casualness with which Scarlett flung that word around. "And you—you killed them, afterwards?"

"Mm-hm."

"Who's your partner?"

She laughed softly. "Oh, some puddin'-head named Stark. Don't know his ass from a hole in the ground. He needed help with his assignments."

"Assignments? From who?"

"Can't say I know his name; I think he changes it now and then. I don't think Stark's ever even seen him in person. He just sends out letters, and we get 'em."

"Letters from where? Around here?"

"Not sure. You'd have to ask Stark." It dawned on Scarlett that this wasn't really where she had been intending the conversation to go. "Why're you so curious? Do you know him?" When Jane didn't answer, Scarlett sighed and said, "Look. I figure if I'm gonna be some outlaw's apprentice, it may as well be one as young and handsome as you. I think it'd make things more interesting, don't you?" One of her hands started wandering towards Jane's belt, and that's what finally made her snap into action.

Grabbing one of Scarlett's wrists, Jane kicked the barn door back open again. "You're comin' with me."

Naturally Scarlett misread what was going on, although she should have suspected something was up when Jane led her straight back to town. Panic only startled to settle in when she realized Jane had brought her to the sheriff's office. "What're you doing?" she whispered.

Jane whirled around to face her, the vice grip on Scarlett's wrist making it impossible for her to pull away. "You live in right nice little town here, Scarlett," Jane said through her teeth. "And don't think I had no idea what it was your intention to do. Here's one thing I'd like to make very clear to you: I only kill men who deserve it. I ain't ever laid a hand on a woman, not a one. I prize every hair on their righteous heads. It makes me sick to think of one turnin' against her own kind." She shook her head in disgust. "You, miss, are no lady."

"Oh, and I suppose you're a gentleman?" she scoffed, trying (and failing) to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

In response to this, Jane said "Nope," and lifted her hat enough to take her hair of its restrictive bun, letting it fall to her shoulders. She also yanked off her goatee, leaving her only with the still very-masculine looking mustache. Ignoring Scarlett's clear shock and confusion, Jane said, "There is a stagecoach comin' at you. You can either be on it, or under it. You tell me how to find this Stark person, and I ain't gonna tell the Sheriff about your murdering ways."

"Uh…that's him right there, actually," Scarlett said, pointing. Jane twisted to look over her shoulder, and saw a tall, balding man being dragged up the stairs into the sheriff's office, making one heck of a racket. "He don't stay out of trouble easy," Scarlett sighed. "Half the letters he gets from his boss, he gets in prison. Murder he can get away with, sure, but he's got a hell of a problem with brawls, and… well, like you said, this is a nice little town we got here."

"I'm sure," Jane growled, pulling Scarlett back into the main street and up the stairs of the office. "Sheriff!" she called. "Oh! And Reverend! How nice to have you here as well." The two authorities looked up from a paper they had been studying, and the Reverend averted his eyes from the sight of Scarlett's immodest dress. "I thought you might be interested in knowing this woman from your town just tried soliciting my attention."

The sheriff raised his eyebrows. "Attention? Atten… oh! Oh, dear."

"Oh dear indeed."

Looking utterly betrayed, Scarlett tried again in vain to pull herself out of Jane's strong grip. "Don't look at me!" she barked to the Sheriff and the scandalized Reverend. "He's Jake Wyatt!"

"If you'll permit me," the Sheriff said, sparing a glance for Jane. "Jake Wyatt does not have long, flowing locks as nice as this man here. And he's got a beard, hasn't he?"

"And he's bigger, I thought," the Reverend mused. "Take no offense, my boy, you just seem a bit lean."

"None taken, sir, so long as you take care of this depraved soul," Jane said. The sheriff had his deputy come up and grab a hold of Scarlett's other arm, and Jane let go. "Let that be a lesson to you. Don't play with fire. You'll get burned." Once the kicking and wildly protesting girl had been dragged away, Jane turned back to the Sheriff. "If you'd oblige me, sir, I hear you've just brought in a man named Stark?"

"That's right."

"Can I see him? I'm a… I'm a friend of his sister's, and she's got a message for him."

"Oh. Well, certainly. Outside, last cell on the left."

Tipping her hat, Jane thanked him and walked back outdoors. She pulled her hair back up and reapplied the goatee before heading down the row of cells. Stopping outside the last one, she said, "Stark?"

"Yeah?" he groaned, looking up. When he realized who was standing in front of him, he jumped to his feet. Though he towered over Jane, he was clearly intimidated. "Jake Wyatt? What're you…?"

"I'll ask the questions if you don't mind," Jane said. "From what I understand, you been brought in here for a brawl, is that right?"

"Sure, a brawl," laughed a man close by. "A brawl what ended with murder."

"You kill someone?" Jane asked.

"Yes," Stark said in a dark whisper. "Why, you lookin' for help?"

Jane grabbed him by the collar and yanked him towards her, so that his face banged against his cell bars. "Husband and wife in Claire Valley. Your work?"

"Y-yes," he stammered, all bravado gone once again.

"Who're you takin' orders from? Who is your boss?"

Another man called out, "Whatsa matter, big Jake? Scared of a little competition?"

Still grasping Stark's collar, Jane turned and fired two bullets in the direction of the taunting voice. "Next man besides Stark who breathes so much as a word gets worse," she snarled before turning back to Stark. "Now let's try this again. Who do you work for? Your pal Scarlett already ratted you out. I know you're takin' orders from somebody."

"All right, so kill me!" Stark laughed. "Go ahead! I'll be locked in here the rest of my days. I don't got anything to live for anymore. You can't threaten me, Jake."

"Maybe not, but you ever think maybe I could break you outta here?" Jane said, keeping her voice low enough so that only Stark could hear it. He didn't seem very bright, but she had gotten his attention. "You tell me what I want to know, and I'll get you out. But you'd better cooperate."

"Okay, okay," he said shakily. "I don't know his name; he changes it a lot. Last few letters he's gone by Stuart. He sends notes, see. And I follow up on 'em. In the last one he said he was comin' back towards Arizona."

"Where's he been?"

"Er…he's since moved on, but he's been in Pennsylvania."

"Pennsylvania? Out east?" Good Lord, no wonder Frost and I haven't found him out here! "He said he's comin' back, though?"

"Yes! Yes, he's on his way. H-he'll write me again, and the letter'll be brought here, and I'll write and tell him I'm here. If he says where he is, I'll let you know!"

"You had better," Jane growled, tightening her grip. "Or so help me, I will hunt down every last person that was ever important to you and skin them alive."

"W-where do I send word?"

"To my good friend Charles Fairfield in Green Forge," Jane said. She let go of Stark's collar to pull a piece of paper out of her pocket on which Frost had written Charles' name and the address of a post office box in Green Forge where they intended to create an account to a forwarding address in Hollow Creek. "You better believe me, Stark," she said seriously, handing him the slip of paper. "How often you hear from him?"

"It ain't regular. Usually every two or three months."

Two or three months! It felt like an eternity, but compared to ten years, Jane was prepared to wait. "All right. I'll be back in three months, then, if I ain't heard from you. You got that, Stark?" He nodded weakly, and Jane turned to walk away. The other men were silent as she passed, and she tried to repress a smile.

She saw Frost, who was waiting outside the Sheriff's office, and leapt up when he saw her. "Jake, they just brought in Stark—"

"I know, I just talked to him."

"And? What'd he say?"

"He done it."

"Is it—?"

"No. Not quite. He's been takin' orders from him…said he goes by Stuart."

"Stuart? That's not the man who killed my parents."

"Stark said his name changes a lot. That's why he's been so hard to track down, Frost." With a weak laugh, she said, "He's been in Pennsylvania. But he's on his way back west, and trust me, Stark's gonna let me know when he gets here."

"So…so we got him."

"Getting there," Jane said, and the unwilling smile finally couldn't be retained. "Frost, we're close. Closer than I think we've ever been."

"Yeah," he snorted. "Now all's we gotta do is wait."

"We been waitin' ten years. I reckon we do it a bit longer, yeah?"

"I guess."

"Right." She clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's go home."

A/N: Sorry this diverged from the Rizzles fluff! I really did miss writing that, but, you know, plot. It has to come somewhere. Fortunately, there is much more Rizzles on the way to make up for it! (I don't intend on separating them again any time soon.) And thanks for your reviews! You guys are awesome! :)