DISCLAIMER:: not mine unfortunately

A/N:: this is one of my favorite chapters and it took quite a while to write, because i wanted to make a good friction between patty doyle and jane. i know everyone has been waiting for this, so i will spare you all further torment. enjoy!

-/-

Jane crossed the room slowly, her soles making a slight clicking noise on the hardwood floor. She finally stopped next to a small window to the left of the couch.

"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

Jane didn't look over at Patty Doyle; she couldn't. "Your daughter is missing. She was taken just over two and a half hours ago."

She had expected Patrick Doyle's first response to be rage, anger… that's what hers had been. But he was surprisingly calm when he spoke.

"Who took her?"

"A man named Jackson Port. He's a criminal from New York, mostly theft, but more recently narcotics and sexual assault."

That got more of a reaction out of him. She heard his knuckles crack as his fists balled up.

"He's given the department until midnight to find her. He hasn't given explicit detail on what he intends to do to her or… with her if we don't make his time limit but I think the, uh, implications are clear enough."

"And what do you expect us to do about it?" The woman took a step away from the wall by the door, where she'd been lurking since they came in.

"Erin, enough!"

The woman's mouth closed immediately, but the tension rolled off of her in waves.

Patrick Doyle sighed. "You'll have to excuse her; she's in her twenties and Irish, the perfect combination for a short temper."

Jane glanced over at the young woman. She was beautiful. Her hair was black, wavy, and long, the darkness of it making her bright green eyes pop all the more. She was as tall as Jane, but obviously younger, though there was an accelerated age in her eyes. Jane recognized it because she had the same look in her own, the traces of a life in which you've seen too much of the bad side of humanity. Erin was silent through Jane's observation of her, almost daring the detective to address her. But Jane just turned back towards the window. She couldn't look at those eyes anymore.

"She's your daughter. I know it's bold of me to ask you this, but I have nowhere else to turn. We're down to just over four hours and we're not making any real progress towards finding her." Jane took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before letting it out.

"This can't possibly be easy for you Detective."

Jane laughed, but it was mirthless and hollow. "What gave you that idea?"

"Your shoulders are tense, your overall posture is rigid, your words are strained and you haven't looked at me since you walked through the door. I've killed people. I've done things you couldn't even imagine. I am a criminal; I have been my entire life. You've devoted yours to stopping people like me. There's a undeniable irony in our meeting."

"If I had other options; I'd use them. She took a bullet for me once and it's my responsibility to protect her and I'm going to exhaust every possible resource… that includes you."

Patrick Doyle took a what seemed like an eternity to speak. "I know who you are Detective Rizzoli, and I know your connection to my daughter."

She scoffed. "And what connection might that be?"

"I think you know."

Jane turned away from the window but didn't look at him, anger seeping into her pores at the hint of disapproval she heard in his voice. "Please don't give me any of that moral superiority bullshit, because you'd be wasting my time, and hers."

"Ay, it's true I grew up in an Irish-Catholic household and certain moral codes were taught to me from a young age, but I'm not exactly in a position to pass moral judgment, don't you agree? If Maura is happy, then I'm happy for her. I made sure her life was separate from all this for that very reason. Her happiness."

"And yet, somehow, she still found her way back to this world."

"Ay, that she did, but she found her way to the right side of it."

Jane couldn't argue with that. Maura was one of the most caring people she knew; criminal wasn't a word you could easily associate with her.

He stood. "I'll help you Detective Rizzoli. I have ways of finding out what I need to know. If this guy's keeping Maura somewhere in the city, we'll find her."

The idea hadn't even occurred to Jane… that Maura might not even be in the city. Panic swept through her system for a brief moment before she pushed the thought away. Jackson had called her less than an hour after he'd taken Maura, there was no way they could have made it out of Boston to some secure location. She was still in the city, Jane could feel it.

"Thank you." She finally let her eyes meet Patrick Doyle's for the first time since she arrived. She found she had a connection with this man whether she liked it or not. There may be a million differences, male/female, criminal/cop, but there was one thing they had in common: Maura was the center of both their lives, and that fact bonded them as tightly as blood.

"Let's save the thanks for when we have her back safe."

-/-

"Where'd you disappear to?" Frost looked up from his computer as she strolled into the bullpen, carrying a large box. She set it down on her desk and lifted the lid off.

"I picked up the evidence collected from Bobby Marino's apartment. I know it's a long shot, but I have to find out if there was some connection besides him being the arresting officer. Maybe, I don't know, maybe Port was his right hand man and he double crossed him. You should have seen how quick he was to kill his partner the day of the shooting and then Danny… I definitely would not put it past him.

"Do you think Jackson maybe has her in Charlestown? With his history of drugs, it might be a good place to search." Korsak looked up from his desk.

"That occurred to me too. I have Monroe, Young, Jeffries and Archer covering every inch of space over there, sweeping from one side to the other."

Jane reached into the box and started removing everything onto her desk piece by piece, examining as she went. Bobby's apartment had been sparse, the place of a bachelor who didn't intend on ever being something more. There was nothing but a couch in his living room, nothing in his fridge or cupboards. It was almost as if he wasn't there too often. It wasn't until they got to the bedroom that they found any sign of life. The bed was king sized, the favorite choice of couples (or those who liked to hog the bed) and made with silk sheets. There was a dresser and closet filled with clothes, some male, some female. On the top shelf of the closet they found a box. Inside were photographs and what appeared to be notebooks. These were the items that now resided in the evidence box on Jane's desk.

She opened the first notebook to find it wasn't a notebook at all, but a ledger, recording his incoming cash finances. She ran her finger down the page. "Bobby Marino was in deep; he made a lot of money, but…" Jane pulled out another notebook that opened up to find his outgoing expenses. "He spent most of what he was bringing in. He definitely wasn't wasting anything but rent on his apartment, no furniture or anything like that. So where was all his money going?"

Frost opened his mouth to offer a suggestion but Jane's phone went off, interrupting them.

She pulled it out of her pocket, just as it went off again. She looked at the screen: one new message. She opened it and nearly dropped the phone.

The words themselves were ominous. Since you're taking your time, maybe we should add two more players to the game. She scrolled down to find a picture of a slightly opened door through which she could see Dr. Lucas Kim and Veronica Hepburn crouched, pointing at something on a rug. Below that was more words. Your move Detective.