Chapter Eight - Pond Life

On the edge of the North side of the park, the SWAT van parked and started unloading. "How can anyone hide out here," wondered Jane, following behind the SWAT van.

"When you get kicked out of your enclave, you find what you can, I guess," suggested Kate. "Lots of homeless people camp out here. It's just as easy to disappear here as it is in the city."

Jane snorted. "There are roads crisscrossing the whole park, jogging trails and bike trails. People are in here all the time. How the hell do you hide?"

"See, this is why you should've stuck with the Girl Scouts, Rizzoli."

"Bite me, Talucci."

"You're the one who wouldn't go to Scouts, I'm just saying."

"It was the same time as Little League!"

Kate laughed as they pulled up in the parking lot, and watched Jane toss her suit jacket into the back. "Little cold for no coat, Rizzoli."

Unfolding from the car, Jane rolled her eyes. "I'm putting on a vest, and so should you, Talucci." From the backseat, Jane pulled her bulletproof vest out and started strapping it on.

"You really think that'll stop a sniper slug? Those things go all the way through people." As soon as Kate said it, her eyes dropped to Jane's torso and she looked apologetic. "Shit, I'm sorry." Scrambling out of the car, Kate tossed her jacket in back and went to get a vest from the van.

"Why're we bringing her?" grunted Korsak, adjusting his own vest. "Damn it, this thing doesn't fit anymore."

"She earned it, Vince," sighed Jane and turned to look at her partner. "We're gonna have to get you a smaller one." Flipping her phone out, Jane sent a quick text to Maura, telling her they were at the park, and then turned the phone off and left it in the car with the rest of her non-essential gear. The last thing she needed was her phone to start blasting 'I'm Sexy And I Know It' while stalking a crazed sociopath.

Frost, his own vest on and snugged, adjusted his gun belt. "My mouth always gets bone dry when we do this," he admitted.

"Better'n losing your lunch over the body," Korsak noted, with a final tug on his vest.

When Kate returned, wearing a borrowed vest, she was frowning. "Rizzoli, I don't mean to be a downer, but how sure are we that Gerard is here. I mean, a flower? Really? How much do you trust Doc Isles?"

"With my life," Jane said, without a second thought, ignoring the quick inhalations by Frost and Korsak.

"Yeah? Is that Jane or Detective Rizzoli talking?"

Jane tied her hair back in a ponytail. "Detective Rizzoli. Dr. Maura Isles doesn't guess. She doesn't give an opinion until it's backed up with fact. She thinks guessing is for intellectual wimps. Maura may be my girlfriend, Talucci, but Dr. Isles is never wrong." Jane tossed her head, feeling her ponytail bounce off the back of her vest as she went to ask SWAT exactly how much damage a sniper's slug would do through a vest. Maybe she'd be really lucky and Daniel would pray Gerard wasn't ready and waiting for them.

"Didn't I send you back to work?" rasped Daniel, between breaths taken from his oxygen mask.

Maura frowned and put the mask more firmly on his face. "Your lung-" Daniel swatted at her hands, weakly. "Daniel, you need to breathe."

The priest was not dissuaded and pulled the mask off. "Seventy percent. I'm fine. Why are you here?"

At one point in the not so distant past, Maura would have felt comfortable unburdening herself to Daniel. Just half a year ago, she'd sobbed in his arms about dead boys. Only a few months ago, when Jane had been with the FBI, she'd wanted to cry in his arms again. But today, she had no impulse to fall against Daniel. He was no more a confidant, only a good friend.

She studied the man quietly, wondering when, exactly, this had happened. She didn't want to sit and fret with him, she wanted to be out at the pond, waiting in the nicely protected SWAT van. I've outgrown Daniel, realized Maura, to some surprise.

He was still intellectually stimulating in discussion, when able to speak properly. She still loved him, and knew he felt the same. But something was missing. Maura no longer felt the urge to unburden her mind and heart to him. She no longer felt anything but filial warmth when she touched him, whether to shake his hand when meeting up with him at work, or to lay one of her hands on his foot or forearm while he received treatments here at the hospital.

There was no heat in her when she thought of Daniel or interacted with him. There was no need to suppress anything, nothing to suppress, for the sake of her current relationship. Maura was taken aback by the realization, enough to mistrust it and analyze it. Deliberately she ran her mind over her memories of their past relationship, over the physical contact they had shared. Considered what she could recall, with vivid clarity, of his body. Huh. Nothing but a pleasant remembrance, without desire to repeat, revisit, or savor.

The words to one of Jane's secretly-favorite songs ran through her mind, from the mix they often played in the car: And if it ever was there and it left, does it mean it was never true? Had she really loved Daniel at all? Yes. Yes, she had. She knew not because of the intensity of their relationship while it lasted, but because of the hole it had left in her when it was over. The hole she could see if she looked, but no longer feel.

Maybe what she'd outgrown wasn't Daniel, but the pain of not having him.

Maura wanted, briefly, to discuss these thoughts with him, but stopped herself. If he had not reached a similar state, it would only cause Daniel distress.

Instead she said, "I talked to Dr. Knudsen again this afternoon. She said you're going to start therapy next week. You won't do very much to start with, given the nature of the injury but-"

"Avoiding." He wasn't really up for longer sentences. Maura sighed and looked at her phone. The last text from Jane was half an hour ago. "It's going down?" Maura looked up, confused. "Jane?" He mimed a gun.

"Yes." Called out, Maura now felt guilty. "They think they found the shooter's nest."

"Lair." He was quickly recovering his ability to talk, though he still sounded like Jane on a very bad day.

"Thank you. They're raiding it."

Daniel muttered 'Good' as he pulled his mask back up. His eyes closed and Maura watched Daniel breathe for almost 90 seconds. Then she looked at her phone again. It was only 32 minutes. Assuming Jane texted roughly fifteen minutes before they started the raid, it would be at least double that before she got another message. While Maura wished she was there, she knew Jane might be distracted by her presence. So here she was, safe in the hospital, with two policemen guarding the door.

She wanted to be somewhere else. I should have stayed back in my lab. Then I could have left the radio on and heard what was going on. Not that Jane ever remembers to turn hers on, which is stupid and dangerous. I'll have to nag her.

For someone who never was a scout of any kind, Jane knew she was damn quiet as they walked through the trails. Part of that was because she knew right where she was going, and stuck to the clear paths. The other part was she was so damned scared about that sniper ripping through her, that she was taking every step as slowly and carefully as possible. Kate, Korsak and Frost followed her, along with a SWAT team, who were crazy quiet.

As they neared the part of the park Jane remembered, she stopped. "This is the area we were planting in." Jerking her chin in that direction, she gestured to split up the team. "Kate, take Frost and go north. You know what Gerard looks like. Korsak and I will go around south." The SWAT team spread around and they began stalking. The earwigs, directed from the SWAT van, continued to let them know where everyone else was as they crept through the underbrush.

It was a testament to Vince's health that, unlike three years ago when chasing Hoyt, he wasn't even breathing hard. A soft click echoed in Jane's left ear and she froze. "Frost and Talluci spotted a bucket. Rizzoli and Korsak, it's going to come up on your right. They're going wide to edge around."

"Copy," breathed Jane. She ignored the sweat trickling down her neck and back. They'd been walking for nearly forty-five minutes to get here. Her eyes flicked to the side and she saw what she was looking for. "This is Rizzoli, I've got the plants."

"We copy, converging teams on your location."

Jane swallowed and nodded at Korsak. They had worked together for so many years, she didn't have to tell him what she wanted. He just fell into place, a step behind her, but not in her blind spot. The scariest part was they had no idea if their guy was here. Frost had spent hours tracking down the website, which was using WHOIS guard (whatever that meant, Frost just said it hid the name of the person who owned the domain name behind layers of something or another), and the warrant for the domain name came up with Gerard's wife's address. All the bills were paid through an online money transfer service, and the warrant on where that was funded from was still being argued. The service's lawyers were dragging it out, regardless of the word 'murder.'

At best, he was using an offshore bank account. The ex-wife had, willingly, given up their bank records, and there was a listed transfer to an online-only bank, followed by that account being closed a year later. The last payout went to another online bank. The process was repeated seven times in the last three years, before Frost declared it was money laundering, and handed it over to the forensic accountants. Jane suspected Anna's assistance.

Somehow the man managed to live off the grid. When they subpoenaed the web host, all the IP addresses used to update the site were from libraries, web cafes, and coffee shops. Arguably that meant he had a computer to use. Kate had seen him with a cellphone, but the number she scoped was a burner that came back with the name 'Mitt Romney.' And they were all pretty sure Mittens had nothing to do with this case.

"We've got a tent." That was Kate, her voice a hushed whisper in Jane's ear. "Unzipped. He's probably in the area."

"Stay on your toes," the SWAT coordinator suggested. Had Jane not been concentrating on being silent, she might have made a snappy remark (or just drawled out a lengthy 'really?').

Behind her, a cracking sound came, nearly lost in the soft whooshing of plants in the wind. Jane glanced at Korsak, who shook his head, eyes wide. They both whirled, but a tall, grey-haired man was ready. He lashed out with the gun in his hand, neatly clipping Korsak in the head and sending the big guy down. Korsak had gone down like a father during birth, with an echoing thud of a hundred elephants. The man was fit these days, but still pretty solid.

"I didn't think you'd find me," he said brusquely. His gun was just a standard Glock, but it was aimed at Jane's head. And she already knew he was a good shot.

"We're good at what we do," Jane replied evenly. She trained her own gun on his body. It shouldn't kill him.

A brief burst of voices from her earwig told her the others had heard both Korsak's crash and Jane's conversation with Gerard. Thank God, thought Jane. Ma's gonna shout at me me if Korsak's hurt, realized Jane, her eyes and gun never wavering.

"You aren't good enough. I heard you coming a mile away." He was preternaturally calm, as if a standoff in the woods was a common occurrence. "You think you're all smart, with your technology. How about living without it." Raising one hand, Dan Gerard thumbed a small device.

Don't be a bomb, don't be a bomb! Jane thought to herself. A vest isn't going to help me if it's a bomb! Oh, please, God, I just moved in with Maura! Don't be a bomb!

It wasn't a bomb, though for a split second, Jane really thought it was. A sharp squeal came from her earpiece. Jane cringed inwardly in pain from the sound, but did not wince. Years of practice helped her bite down on the urge to scream. I didn't let Hoyt hear me scream, and I'm sure as hell not letting you, she thought grimly, keeping her eyes on Gerard. "Is that all? An EMP to knock out local communication? Yeah, our mole already warned us about that."

Gerard was startled, and dropped his trigger to grasp his gun with both hands. "Mole? There's no mole. I work alone."

"Well that explains your shitty website." Jane was playing for time. The others knew where she was, mostly, and she could only hope they'd still be able to find her. Mano-a-mano with a trained sniper was not Jane's idea of a fair fight. "You've got problems."

"If this is the finest Boston PD has to offer, I think I'm fine."

"Really? So how come I know that you like to build small range EMPs out of Pringles cans? Same trick they used in Egypt to make Internet repeaters, right? You learned that in Iraq." And Jane learned it from Maura, who had spent hours reading the news to Jane, and explaining what they were doing to circumvent unjust laws.

"You did your homework. I'm impressed." His voice was deadpan. "You can't win, you know. You try to shoot me, I'll shoot you. Best you can hope for is we both die."

Just play for time, Rizzoli, she told herself. "Nobody's dying today," she remarked, trying to sound braver than she was.

"Good news," said Dr. Knudsen's hearty voice as she entered the room, grinning a secondary greeting as she spotted Maura in the visitor's chair. "Hey, Doc."

"Hello, Doctor." Maura stood, partly in greeting and partly to get her blood flowing. She'd sat still for too long, wondering what to say next. "What news?"

Knudsen held up a folder and waved it a little. "I got back some of your test results and the films from your last X-ray, Father. You're making some impressive progress. Blood tests indicate no infections, and the internal wounds seem to be healing at a really gratifying rate. Your vitals have been consistently strengthening. I'm going to go ahead and claim that it's all because of the fantastic skill of the surgeon," she added with a dramatic and ironic bow. Maura couldn't help but smile; she had come to like Dr. Knudsen, not merely to respect her professionally.

Daniel looked modestly smug. It was quite a trick, combining those two qualities. "The power of prayer," he intoned piously. Maura elected not to mention her thoughts on the quantifiable medical effect, real versus imaginary, of warm, fuzzy, hopeful thoughts.

Knudsen went on, "Keep on like this, and we'll be letting you go out into the hospital grounds for some sunshine in the next day or two. If you can sweet-talk someone into wheeling you around, of course. Or maybe I'll just order one of the candy stripers; they love that crap."

"Isn't that a bit quick?" Maura wondered, excited, but only in a cautious way. "The average healing time for wounds of this nature and extent-"

Knudsen waved a hand as if wanting the scent of naysaying to dissipate. "Pish-tosh. The man's got to get some fresh air in him if he wants to keep getting better. Sunshine and a change of scenery will do your priest, here, a world of good. Not as much as laughing, but we don't want him to tear anything, so no dirty jokes, okay?" She did a good job looking almost perfectly serious, other than the little wink off in Daniel's direction.

Maura's eyes widened for a moment before she realized that there was teasing involved, and that it was meant for Father Brophy and not for herself. "I wouldn't - Oh. A joke, of course. I see. Well, thank you very much, Doctor." She didn't really know why she said it. Thanking Knudsen suggested some proprietary feeling that she no longer felt. It was an oddly ungrounding sensation, the absence of ownership of Daniel. He was entirely his god's now, not hers.

Dr. Knudsen attached a page or two from her file to Daniel's chart and left, leaving Maura alone with Daniel once more. She turned back, opened her mouth to speak to him, and realized she hadn't a single idea of what to say.

He solved the problem for her. "Maura, when I was... I suppose either unconscious or semiconscious, did you happen to say something about moving?"

Relief. Maura did not let it show, but nevertheless, it cooled her mind. "Yes, I did. Jane and I are going to be living together."

Daniel frowned, coughed once, and then asked, "You're selling that beautiful house?" He sounded disappointed. "The kitchen looked just like your old house."

Surprise briefly appeared on Maura's face, followed swiftly by understanding. She corrected him, explaining the ambiguity of Jane's hire date, which had been decided on the side of leniency.

"What about Angela?" asked Daniel next, one grey-white eyebrow arching to indicate either knowledge, or at least a very good guess, about a particular source of discomfort for both mother and daughter of the Rizzoli tribe.

Maura actually blushed at the thought that Daniel was asking, however indirectly, about her sex life. It surprised them both. After all, he had once been a part of it. The blush, a purely involuntary response, told them both more than anything else could have done: that that part of her was unavailable to him anymore, just as he was unavailable to her. They had both found other feminine entities to whom to give their allegiances and love. Jane for her; the Holy Mother for him. "Ah. Yes, she's going to be taking over the lease on Jane's prior residence. It seemed to be the most practical solution."

Daniel hid behind his oxygen mask for a moment, as if he immediately needed help, even though the last hour he'd barely coughed. "Practical," he replied, his voice rasping out like Jane's, that night she and Maura had gotten quite wonderfully and exceptionally drunk. The next morning, Maura had sounded like Jane, and Jane had sounded like a rusty truck driving on a gravel road. "I'm happy for you, Maura," said the priest at last, without a trace of sadness for her or himself. The honest smile on his face was a friend happy for his friend, and nothing more.

"You're stalling," Gerard noted.

"So you say," Jane replied. "Why did you do it?"

"Sorry, I save my exposition monologues for after the so-called hero gets killed." Gerard smiled, a thin and vile smile, and started to put pressure on the trigger. He really was a sniper, putting imperceptibly increasing pressure, so there would be no jerking motion of recoil when he finally pulled the trigger.

If he hadn't been trying to kill her, Jane might have been impressed. "It was the plants, you know," she blurted. He froze. That's right, what did Casey tell me about sniper training? You freeze, you don't jerk. You have to be calm and steady. So if I distract him, he won't shoot me. I hope. This might be the dumbest idea I've ever had. "Those weeds by the water. Did you know we can run DNA from a plant?"

"What?"

Yes! She had his attention. "Oh yeah, we didn't find your DNA. You were smart enough to avoid leaving any. Props for that, I'll give you. But we found this plant that didn't match the others. A weed, really. And our lab was able to match that plant's DNA to plants that the conservatory folks have been trying to grow here." Her inner Maura said 'cultivate.' Jane told her inner Maura to shut up.

Gerard looked truly confused, as if this concept never occurred to him. "You're good," he finally said. "Too bad you're corrupted. Your sons would have been heroes."

"Yeah? I'll settle for some shero action today," grinned Jane, ignoring the inner-Maura wail of 'heroine' and the longer explanation about how 'hero' was actually the male form of Hera's followers, and they were called the dogs of Hera, making 'bitch' a compliment. All of that zipped through Jane's head in a split second, and stopped before she had to quell the inner Maura. Again. "Besides. You're going to look really stupid in a second."

"Oh, yeah?" Gerard scoffed. "Why's that?"

Jane smirked. All those weekends introducing Maura to chick movies like The Princess Bride were paying off in spades. "Because I know something you don't know."

The faint crushing of a twig behind him caused Gerard shock, but the voice caused more. "You know, you actually are a lefty, Rizzoli," said Kate Talucci from about three yards away. "Drop the gun, Gerard and put your hands behind your head."

"Later that same day, Talucci! Took you long enough." Jane didn't take her gun off of Gerard, not even when Frost and the rest of the SWAT team caught up with them, seconds later. Knowing he was caught, Gerard slowly stooped to drop the gun, kick it towards Jane, and put his hands tamely behind his head.

"I like drama," Kate quipped. "Cuff him."

Jane didn't hesitate, "It's your collar, Kate. You did the hard work." Their eyes met for a moment, and Kate grinned. She yanked Gerard's arm down and roughly cuffed him. For once, Jane wasn't going to make bones about it. "Frost, how's Korsak?"

The younger cop knelt by their partner and checked his pulse. "I think he's snoring," Barry said, in a stunned tone, almost laughing with relief.

"I should've hit him harder," snarled Gerard as Kate shoved him into the waiting arms of the SWAT team. Only then was he able to see who it was that had cuffed him. "You! You're that bitch from the bar!"

"Look at that, Talucci, he knows your name," joked Jane, holstering her gun.

With remarkable decorum, Kate rolled her eyes. "No mole, he said. I wasn't hanging around that stupid bar for the quality of the beer or his lousy company, that's for sure."

Gerard shook his head. "I knew you were too manly to be one of us. You're probably one of those carpet munching lesbians."

Uh oh, thought Jane, and she flicked her eyes at Barry. Kate's back was ramrod straight, and Jane was reminded of what had happened to Carla Talucci's favorite lamp, the day Joe Grant called Kate a dyke. Apparently Joe liked to say he got the scar in a bar fight.

But Kate didn't even bother to look like she wanted to refute the accusation, merely grinning smugly as she told him, "You lost. We've got you, and your little friends are next. Your whole asinine operation, if you can call a one man campaign of stupid that, is over." Kate shook her head and turned away.

"Bitch," growled Gerard, and he spat on Kate. His aim with saliva rivalled his aim with a rifle: he got her square in the face.

Now Kate's cool was lost. Jane and Barry moved as one, each grabbing one of Kate's arms, mid-swing, and forcibly hauling her away while SWAT put Gerard face down on the ground. The shouting and commotion had one good effect, though.

"What the hell happened?" asked Korsak, slowly sitting up.

At least Jane was sure her mother wouldn't yell too much at her about Korsak.

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