- 1 -
Someone next to her.
Only slowly did she realize that she was lying in a unknown bed. That the sounds that surrounded her were not the usual ones. That wasn't alone.
A dull ache pounded in her head that undoubtedly had to come from all the alcohol. Or was there something else?
They breathed. A soft clearing of the throat, followed by a groan. The voice sounded tortured, where was it coming from?
She was not yet able to pinpoint the source of the sound. Her body wanted to turn, she wanted to sit up, and then there was this pressure on her bladder. Probably that was why she had woken up. Neither her eyes nor her brain were ready for the stimuli of a new day.
The sunlight blazed relentlessly into the room.
Of course. The hotel.
Gradually memories formed in her mind.
The bathroom. She had to get up whether she wanted to or not. Without turning around to look at her, she struggled into a shaky sitting position. After a moment's breath, pushed herself upright, oriented herself. Then she staggered off in the direction of the bathroom.
Wasn't the room supposed to be ...?
A dark jacket hung half over the seat of a chair.
Wasn't I supposed to ...?
There was no point. The woman's brain was not yet capable of drawing logical conclusions. As if casually, her eyes wandered to the digital display of the alarm clock. Just 6:15 am. No wonder.
As she relieved herself, her upper body fell forward. Her forearms landed on her bare thighs. If it wasn't so uncomfortable, she might have just continued her sleep.
A flash of light made her wince. The unfamiliar glow came from her left hand. More precisely, from her ring finger. Tiredly, she raised her hand in front of her face and cradled and twisted it. Then she smiled, even though even the slightest movement of the corners of her mouth already seemed to cause new pain.
With a deep sigh, she pushed herself up and leaned on the marble sink. Very carefully, as if her hand didn't want to scratch the ring on it, she felt for the gold-plated faucet. Heard the rush, looked into the whirlpool of water, and reached her hands under the wet. Rubbed some of it on her face and neck. Gave herself a shy look. Though she knew her reflection wouldn't be a pleasant sight.
"Gee whiz," she murmured to herself in a raspy voice. Because her tongue was sticky, she filled a glass with cold water. Downed it greedily and repeated the process. Then she wiped her mouth, ran her hand through her dark, curly hair, and rolled her eyes because it had once again taken on a life of its own.
Without a shower, she would hardly wake up and get in shape ...
Later, she decided. It's not even 6:30.
She walked back toward the king-size bed. Her toes played with the carpet as she paused for a few seconds to look at the curved contours hiding under the summer blanket. The painted toenails were all that was visible of her.
Jane Rizzoli was a happy woman, even if she should have noticed long ago what was wrong with the idyll. The ring on her finger, last night's party. A year ago, she had asked her significant other to marry her. Maura Isles hadn't hesitated.
Yesterday had been the day. Many liters of beer, wine, and champagne had flowed. And harder stuff. And here, of all places, Jane's memory was lost.
How disappointing, she thought, as the tips of her toes still dug into the soft carpet. Of all things, you blackout on your wedding night.
Then the door flew open, and the blonde on the bed straightened up with a pointed cry. Hiding her bare breasts with the blanket, she stared toward the doorway.
"Get dressed. We have a case," came from there, while Jane was slow to realize what just happened.
Her gaze searched for the pants. On the chair. The shoes? One here, the other there. As if she had swept them off her feet. Likewise the socks.
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The radio started playing the commercial break that preceded the news. Jane turned down the volume, annoyed because they had stolen over a minute of playing time from the song by Guns N' Roses.
She killed the engine of the car. Half of her body longed for sleep, the other for a physical therapist. It was probably all the alcohol, barbecue and boisterous dancing.
"Whatever," the detective muttered. After all, you only got married once. She looked at her girlfriend ... her wife, who had leaned her head against the window with her eyes closed. Death had no regard for relationships. Neither for investigators with a hangover. "Maura -"
Maura winced and opened her bloodshot eyes. She made a face when the Italian nodded through the windshield before slowly and hesitantly opening the passenger door.
Vince Korsak caught sight of the newlyweds and walked toward Jane's car. "There's our dream team." Jane's former partner and mentor gave her a fleeting hug. "You're as tense as I am. Headaches included?"
Maura mumbled something unintelligible before ducking under the police tape.
Jane rolled her eyes. Even that movement caused her pain.
He grinned broadly when she made a face. "That answers my question."
She went to the trunk to pull out better footwear. "Let's not talk about it. Let's see what's on instead."
Dr. Maura Isles stood amid a group of slender tree trunks whose bark looked anything but healthy. Most of the branches were bare, which may have been related to the fact that the trees were too close together, robbing each other of light. In their midst was a clearing of sorts. As Jane, Korsak, and Jane's younger brother Frankie Rizzoli approached it, she said dryly, "Always follow your nose -"
Jane shook her head, and Frankie pursed his mouth. As impossible as Maura's sarcasm seemed to others, behind the facade was a perceptive yet meticulous scientist who hardly missed a detail. One could not blame her for the constant contact with death, which her profession entailed, with a thick coat of technical terms.
In fact, Jane thought she detected a smell of decay. "Well, splendid. That's what I need most right now." She looked at her brother and lowered her brows, realizing he was about to crack a joke about the situation he had found her in not two hours ago. "Don't."
Frankie folded his mouth shut again and grinned broadly.
The dispatch had notified the investigators on duty less than two hours ago. In a wooded area near the airport grounds, an early walker had discovered two bodies. The dog had gone crazy, he had hardly been able to hold him. What he had thought at a distance to be decomposed wild boar carcasses, according to the witness, turned out on closer look to be two bodies with unmistakably human skulls. The police had visited the site with firefighters and paramedics and cordoned off a wide area. Then the machinery had set in motion.
When the three detectives reached the scene, Jane put her hand to her face, the smell was almost unbearable. Faced with skeletal bones, she wondered why it still stank like that.
"It's about to get better," Maura said when she saw her newlywed turn green and pointed behind her with her thumb. "A dead raccoon, he was just found. He's bagged. These two," she pointed to the ground. "haven't smelled for a long time."
"Mhmm," Jane still had a fist in front of her mouth. She swallowed hard and counted two torsos with their associated extremities. Hair and sinew, a lot of vermin, no clothing remnants. "For heaven's sake!" she said.
"That's what I thought."
"Were they naked?"
Frankie grunted, and his sister gave him a warning look.
"Seems so." Korsak nodded. "It wasn't the raccoon, anyway."
"How long have they been dead?" inquired Frankie.
Maura hesitated and rolled her eyes when her wife arched a brow, licking her lips. "I'm guessing at least two to three weeks. I think even more."
Jane grinned broadly, grinned proudly, grinned mischievously. "Can we get that any more specific than that?"
Maura's eyes were hard, but she smiled kindly, as always. "Of course. After the autopsy. But that's going to take time, just for the record. Insect infestation, humus, wild boars, climate." The ME sighed heavily. "It's the worst possible site at the worst possible time of year."
They're in no hurry now, Jane thought, calculating back. Mid-June. It had been consistently summery and dry. Why hadn't the dead been found long ago?
A passing airplane made her wince. "Shit, that's deep!" she gasped. She cleared her throat and asked for clues as to their identities.
"I can tell you with certainty that it's a man and a woman." Maura squatted down next to the skeletons and examined the skulls a little more closely. "Not teenagers, the growth plates appear to be closed. And please don't ask me if this is a sex crime. There are weeks and a pack of wild boars between the hog stuff these two may have been doing here."
"And the wild boars have -" began Frankie, disgusted.
"They ate or dragged away everything, yes," Maura confirmed while looking at him with a frown. "Kent's going to have a lot of fun."
"Speaking of which," Jane looked at her wife questioningly. "They didn't kill each other, did they? Are there any signs?"
Maura raised her gloved index finger and clicked her tongue. "I figured you'd want to know something like that from me. But give me a couple of hours. Then I'll know if the neck injuries are from choking. I can say one thing with absolute certainty."
"And that would be?" asked Korsak patiently.
"The two circular exit wounds on the skulls," the ME answered triumphantly. "Not even the most vicious boar is that cold-blooded." Maura pointed to the female skull. One could still make out the long hair and facial muscles.
Jane swallowed hard; it seemed to her like a cross between an Egyptian mummy that had had its bandages removed and a bog body. She pushed aside the idea of how scavenging animals had descended upon the dead woman and forced herself to focus on the monster that had done this to the two of them.
"Headshot," she heard Maura say, raising her brows in surprise as Maura's latex-clad fingers approached the woman's oral cavity. "In from underneath. Lethal. On him, the gun was placed under the chin, so it's different than on her."
Jane surveyed the human remains, the nausea slowly fading. "Maybe he refused to open his mouth."
Korsak nodded slowly. "That - or he was already unconscious. Maybe he couldn't open his mouth. Or he was lying on his back -"
"The autopsy will show that," Maura interrupted gruffly. "Until then, it's all speculation." She had her hands on her hips after straightening up and licked her lips again.
"Your wife's a little grumpy," Frankie whispered from the corner of his mouth.
Jane furrowed her brows and swallowed hard. Her throat was still dry.
Maura rolled her eyes as she dropped her hands, making a face. "I haven't slept any more than you have, and there's no coffee or tea in this forest."
"Have the men in black been informed yet," Korsak wanted to know after clearing his throat.
An allusion to the morticians.
They showed up at every crime scene, dressed in cheap black suits meant to convey an air of reverence. Carrying their coffin, in which countless others had already lain. They remained discreetly in the background until the body was released for transport.
As if on cue, a uniformed approached and the two men followed silently.
Jane caught herself thinking that securing the evidence would probably take until evening. Just as it would take time to extract DNA from the dead and match it to the federal database. She wondered if she would be allowed a few more hours of sleep.
Korsak seemed to think similarly, as did Frankie.
Jane took a deep breath and rolled her head on the back of her neck, dismissing the thought of blissful sleep.
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They were five hundred meters from the place of discovery. A police dog handler with his German shepherd. A muscular, large animal. It seemed agitated, restless, its nose didn't stand still.
The person froze for a hair, then reminded himself that he had nothing to worry about. No drugs. No guns. Just a Saturday morning walk, as many others did. Family. Couples. People in love. Joy of life everywhere you looked. When the uniformed man was on the same level, a friendly nod. "Well, outlet?"
"Unfortunately, no," the officer returned. After all, he wasn't allowed to say anything.
But the person had long known anyway. "I saw the emergency vehicles. Should I be worried?"
The officer cocked his head to the side, examining. "No," he decided, "there's no acute danger. But you're not going to get anywhere back there."
"Back where?"
"Back there by the railroad tracks. That's as far into the woods as you'll get."
"Hmm. And you won't tell me the reason?"
"Sorry. Ongoing investigation." The dog grew restless, and the officer prepared to move on. "Listen," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Homicide is here. That's all -"
That's all it took.
"Thank you," the person said, raising their hand in farewell. "And good luck."
They would need it.
They wonder if the cop realized he was trotting in the completely wrong direction. That it was little more than an animal track that had his pooch so excited?
Those idiots! It would take them days to realize what had transpired here. Who they were, where they were murdered, and why.
You'll never understand, the person thought, still smiling, and kept on walking.
Just as the two victims hadn't understood it either. Until the end, hope had been reflected in their pupils. The anxious confidence that some hunter, or the good Lord, or the man in the moon would come to their aid. But none had come.
Only the predator with the black mask.
A few minutes later, the figure reached the barrier, where other officers were milling about. A couple exchanged words with the men, apparently looking for a shortcut to the other side of the site.
Malicious thoughts keep running through the brain and soon sounded like a dialogue between little angels and little devils.
I could show it to you ...
Not here and not now!
But soon. Very soon.
You are me,
I am you.
I'll kill you.
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Most of the vehicles were emergency vehicles. Somewhat secluded, Jane's car was parked. she went over some of the questions that needed to be addressed. "Check the owners of the parked cars. Somehow the victims must have gotten here."
Surely it had to be ascertainable if a car had been parked in the same spot for weeks. On the other hand, leaves were not yet falling in June, and it had hardly rained. Still.
"I'll get it done," Korsak said.
"I'll get it done," Frankie said at the same time.
Jane sighed, closed her eyes, leaned her head against the back of her seat, and motioned for her brother to take care of it.
While Frankie set about jotting down license plate numbers and taking a look inside the cars, she tackled the next set of questions. "Missing persons, male and female," she said, "first from the city, anyone between twenty-five and sixty." And even if she didn't like it, they had to pass the BOLO on to the other police departments. "If this was a couple," she thought aloud, "who killed them? Was it a robbery-homicide? Or a sex crime? Was it someone who happened to run into them? But does someone go into the woods with a firearm without premeditation?"
Korsak nodded and picked up the thread, "I wonder if the place where they were found is also the crime scene. Where are the clothes and personal belongings? Surely this can't all have been carried off by animals."
Jane cracked open an eye. "You mean the perp took souvenirs?"
The man peered over the rims of his reading glasses. "Either that, or he wanted to eliminate all traces."
Jane groaned and closed her eye again. "I'd rather think that, though. If he's so sick he's collecting souvenirs, I almost prefer it to some highly intelligent killer meticulously cleaning his crime scenes."
"Well," Korsak croaked as the thought seemed a bit far-fetched to him, and Jane also had to admit to herself that the thought wasn't thought through. But before they could discuss anything, Frankie returned.
He had noted down all the car types and license plates and was going to go out with his camera to take pictures wherever there was something conspicuous on the seats, dashboards, or rear shelves.
"These three here," he handed Jane a piece of paper, "stand out."
Jane looked at the note and passed it to Korsak.
The older man slumped his shoulders. "You thinking about Detective Johnson?"
Jane drew in air sharply through her nose, and her look was telling. Even though she had a notorious dislike for Detective Mike Johnson, stemming from the fact that he had taken Maura out on a date several times only to end up in bed with her and boast about it in front of all their colleagues, thereby deeply embarrassing her then-girlfriend. However, she despised him much more for the fact that he had more balls than her and had asked Maura out and the ME had happily agreed.
However, none of that mattered in the slightest to Jane at the moment. She shook her head. For she was thinking about the third license plate. A Toyota, pretty run down. She did the math. According to Maura, the time of death, purely mathematically, was around mid-June. Did the vehicle belong to the victim or the victims? When was it last moved? Maybe here?
Frankie recognized her expression. "The Toyota appears to be a family car," he said. "There's a booster seat in the front."
"In the front?" asked Jane.
"Yes."
Jane wondered if it was fair to infer from a booster seat in the front that the vehicle's owner was single. "What else?"
"It's an older model. There's piles of fast food bags in it like someone lives in the car. And the ashtray is overflowing."
"Hmm."
"He caught my eye because the windshield is all greasy. And the tires are dusty and with traces of water running down them. Next to the old station wagon, it seems to be the car that's been here the longest."
Jane nodded slowly. "What about the third car?"
"A silver BMW. Sleek, clean," he cleared his throat as Jane looked at him slowly. "A typical salesman's car, it would hardly have stood out. A mile-eater that's comfortable to travel in."
Jane slowly closed her eyes after the detailed description of the BMW and took a deep, steady breath. "And where's the driver?"
"Right," Frankie grinned wryly. "I've been wondering the same thing. Which I guarantee the car hasn't been parked here for several weeks."
Jane took a deep breath and picked up her cell phone. "I'll pass it all on." She dialed Johnson's number. Exchanged a few sentences with him and then asked for someone to take care of the Toyota.
Korsak waited until Frankie was out of earshot again and gave his former partner a serious look. "You look tired."
Jane opened her eyes again and raised her brows. "So do you." She rolled her eyes and groaned when she saw his meaningful look. "Frankie told you how he found us."
"I'm afraid the boy needs long-term therapy from now on," Korsak chuckled in amusement, his shoulders shaking.
Jane rolled her head with a groan, but then started chuckling when she remembered her brother's horrified look.