Chapter Two
Maura sat in her office, reviewing the toxicology report on Jane's latest case. It was a young woman, late thirties, with obvious signs of drug abuse. Jane had looked at all the needle marks, making the foregone conclusion that she had died of a drug overdose. Despite agreeing that the signs were clear, Maura ran her standard toxicology panel and reviewed it diligently. She picked up her office phone and dialed Jane's extension by memory.
"Rizzoli."
"I have your toxicology reports on Eva Wilson," Maura said, signing the bottom of the paperwork before placing it in her file outbox. "The toxicology reports are affirmative for long-term drug abuse."
"Which one?" Jane did nothing to hide her amusement as she leaned back in her chair with a smile on her face.
"Specifically benzoylmethylecgonine," Maura said closing her eyes to ward off her pending headache. "She had roughly triple the amount in her blood stream that her heart, considering her weight and height, could tolerate."
"So she went on a bender with cocaine is what you're telling me." Jane rocked back and forth in her chair as she contemplated what Maura's payoff would be for their friendly wager at the crime scene. "I suggest we settle this non-homicide with a beer at The Robber."
"I certainly won't be imbibing in malt beverages tonight."
"They have wine there," Jane defended her favorite hang-out against Maura's judgment. "I know you think the reds are chalky but let's get crazy and you can try a white."
"Are you coming to get this report or am I going to have to send it up with someone?"
Jane arched her eyebrow, her instincts immediately activated at the tone of Maura's voice.
"I shall be down momentarily, Dr. Isles." Jane laughed as the exasperated sigh came from the opposite end of the phone. Jane hung up before Maura could respond, interested in interrogating her friend about her reason for declining the offer for a drink in person.
Jane pushed the down button for the elevator, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waited for it to arrive. Jane felt a sense of excitement. Whatever was keeping Maura from joining her at The Robber had to be important; she had never refused an offer to join Jane for a drink.
The elevator chimed, signaling to Maura that someone was entering her floor. She knew it would be Jane, so she didn't bother to look up from the file that she was signing or the piles of others that surrounded her on her desk.
"Drivin' that train, high on cocaine," Jane started singing causing Maura to whip her head up quickly and stare at her friend as if she were from an alternate universe. "Casey Jones you better watch your speed…" Maura shook her head, placing her pen down to stare at Jane. "Casey Jones, Maura,…..Grateful Dead…please tell me you know the Grateful Dead."
"I hardly think that a person would be grateful to be dead, Jane."
"If I take this lovely file off your hands," Jane paused as she picked up Eva Wilson's file waiving it in the air, "and agree never to mention the bet you just lost, could I convince you to have a drink with me?"
"I can't tonight, Jane." Maura massaged her temples.
"Headache?"
"Minor," Maura admitted as she closed her eyes and leaned back in her office chair. "I have a lot on my mind. It's common for headaches to occur under stress. They are medically known as tension headaches but the common vernacular for them is stress headaches."
"I've never known you to get a headache."
"I usually don't." Maura regarded Jane as she began to analyze Maura's stature, her investigative skills quickly taking over.
"Jane, please." Maura waived her hand in front of her own face to break Jane's concentration. "It's a headache, and certainly not chronic since you, yourself pointed out that I hardly get them." Maura rose and perched herself on the corner of her desk folding her arms against her chest. "The pain is consistent with a tension headache since I'm experiencing throbbing in the front of my head but still have my vision, balance, and strength."
"Thank you for your shortened lesson on headaches. Dr. Isles," Jane said, approaching Maura like a suspect she was about to interrogate. "Would you care to tell me what has you experiencing tension headaches, Maura?" Maura ignored Jane's inflection at the words tension and headache.
"I told you, just a lot on my mind."
"Would you care to talk about it?" Jane smiled to show her offer was genuine. "You can lie down on your designer Karim Rashid couch that cost more than a monthly car payment. I am sure it would be like lying on a cloud."
"Jane, that is a collector's item for Karim Rashid, it's his orgy sofa, and some would consider it priceless. It is very popular in Brazil since that's where Karim is from."
"No matter how good you are," Jane started laughing as she folded herself into Maura's office couch, "two people couldn't have sex on this let alone an orgy."
"What were you down here for again?" Maura smiled as Jane's eyes met her own.
"To convince you to go with me for a drink, but you seem to have a tension headache." Jane placed her feet back on the floor and leaned forward to continue the conversation. "So if you would just tell me what's on your mind, I can solve your issues and still have enough time to grab two beers rather than just one."
"How loving and caring of you." Maura's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"I want to help you, Maura; if I help you help me, than don't we both win?"
"You can lift the bottle to your lips on your own, Detective. You've never needed my help to drink a beer."
Jane regarded her friend carefully, seeing the tension in her posture and fidgeting.
"All kidding aside, if you need to talk I'm here."
"Jane," Maura sat down next to her friend after crossing her office slowly, "is your life black and white?"
"Is this another jab at my...oh what did you call it? Less than stellar array of colors in my wardrobe?" Jane's use of her fingers in air quotes made Maura smile.
"I wasn't referring to the limited colors you have in your preferred color palate," Maura argued back, rolling her eyes as Jane smiled at her. "I was referring to how you live your life. Is it always completely clear cut?"
"In what way?"
"The difference between right and wrong," Maura began to tick off her thoughts on her delicate fingers. "The line between good and bad, who falls on what side of that line?"
"That's such a complex question." Jane leaned back exhaling, truly just wanting to grab a drink after work with her friend instead of engaging in such a heavy discussion. "I think in my line of work a person has to be clear about that line."
"It can just be that clear cut for you?"
"Need I remind you about Marino and what happens when you're a cop and aren't clear about that line?" The mere mention of his name made the scar on Jane's abdomen itch.
"And yet when Colin was killed, you were willing to throw it all away to have my sperm donor protect me?"
"I abided by your wishes, Maura," Jane squinted, her gaze boring into Maura's face as if she were under interrogation. "What's this about?"
"I just don't know if I believe that things are always so black and white. Life is full of shades, Jane, and the choices we have to make are scattered throughout the rabge. It can be confusing."
Jane opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by her cell phone ringing from the case that held it on her hip. She held up her finger to indicate to Maura they weren't done, but that she had to take the phone call.
"Rizzoli." Jane paused as she listened to Frost discuss a lead on another case that was open and demanded her attention. "Let's go play our favorite, good cop, black cop then. I'll be right up."
Jane flipped her phone shut, pausing briefly before laying her hand on Maura's leg.
"I don't claim to know how everyone lives, Maura, but I have to always be cognizant of that line that tells me what's wrong and what's right. Maybe the line is different for other people, more blurred or more to the right or left on the spectrum, but it's there. That's how we know bad guys like the ones upstairs and good guys like us. I want to continue this and find out why you're asking me this…"
"You've got a case." Maura forced a smile and stood to match Jane as she rose to her feet. "I've got files for another two hours before I can get out of here. We can talk tomorrow."
"Call me later if you aren't feeling better." Jane walked toward the door before turning around to face her best friend. "I was serious when I said that I wanted to help, Maura. Whatever is bothering you I want you to know that you can talk to me."
"Thanks." Maura watched as Jane left the morgue before sitting in her chair. She rubbed her temples as she envisioned herself telling Jane that Doyle had contacted her, asking for her help and that she was actually considering giving it. Not necessarily because it was her father, but because she wanted so desperately wanted to meet her birth mother and this seemed like the means to an end.
Maura picked up her phone and dialed Angela, knowing that she would worry if Maura wasn't with Jane and coming in late. She smiled when Jane's mother picked up her phone and greeted her warmer than her own adoptive mother ever had. She silently wondered if her birth mother would be more like Constance Isles or Angela Rizzoli, painfully aware of her preference.
"Angela, it's Maura. I didn't want you to worry, but I'll be out late tonight."
"And you're calling me to check in?" Maura could just hear how happy Angela was that she was taking her into consideration. "Do you even know when the last time was that one of my own children checked in with me?"
"I'm certain that they…"
"No need to always stick up for them, Dr. Isles," Angela continued despite Maura being in mid-sentence. "Are you going out on a date? Is it wrong that I asked that?"
Maura smiled and allowed a small chuckle to escape her lips.
"Nothing like that, I need to check on a few things, but finish this mountain of work here beforehand. I just didn't want you to be concerned later on tonight."
"Well don't stay too late," Angela said as she balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear to write down a customer's order in the police cafeteria. "You know I always tell you and Jane that you have to take some time for yourself or you'll go nuts but it is nuts in Boston! Just a bunch of crazy people!"
"Have a good day, Angela, and I'll try to be home as soon as I can."
After hanging up with Angela, Maura walked to her office door and slowly closed it. The click of the lock turning seemed to echo in the silence of the morgue. Maura was conscious of the fact that she had never locked her door in all the time she had worked there. She sighed, already seeing a change in her behavior based on her interaction with Patrick Doyle.
Maura sat back down and dug a small cellular phone out of her purse. It had appeared in a non-descript package on her doorstep this morning.
"I thought you'd never call." Patrick Doyle's voice was horse; he picked it up on the first ring, which surprised Maura.
"I keep my word." Maura made no attempt to hide her aggression toward Doyle. "And so will you. I'll help you remain comfortable; but before the inevitable happens you will tell me who my birth mother is."
"I keep my word too, Maura. I have to in this business, it's the only way people trust you and follow your orders."
"This isn't an order, this is my choice." Maura waited for what she was certain would be a compelling argument coming from her birth father, but nothing was said. She could only hear him breathing, slightly out of breath. "Are you having trouble breathing?"
"The pain," Patrick Doyle muttered as Maura searched within her purse for her car keys.
"I'm on my way." Maura grabbed a stack of files as she balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear. "When I get there and examine you better, I'll have a list of supplies I'll need to help."
Maura closed the phone, grabbed her purse and medical bag, and unlocked the door ready to face Patrick Doyle once more. She bit her lower lip as her thoughts drifted to Jane, whether Jane would understand or not, and she quickly shook her head to focus.
"I have to do something for me," Maura muttered as she pushed the button to call the elevator.