Jane entered the private parking lot for the Museum of Fine Arts and cringed at the crowd that was anxiously approaching the entrance to the facility. Despite her urge to park her unmarked cruiser in a close, reserved parking spot, she opted to play by the rules and headed to the back of the lot. She parked her car and then looked up, dreading having to fight the crowd to gain entrance into the museum.
As she neared the building, she heard the security team instruct patrons to file into a single line to ensure quick, safe access to the private exhibit. The crowd barely listened; Jane watched as a few people tried to accomplish the task of putting the crowd into a single line and decided to push her way to the front. Jane weaved in and out of people. They were all dressed to the nines but freezing as the temperature had significantly dropped when the sun set.
When Jane approached the front of the line, there was a young man standing there alone with a clipboard. Jane smiled; she knew what purpose he served. If you weren't on 'the list' you weren't going to get into the exhibit. It was another one of the cultural nuances that she hated when rubbing elbows with the people that Maura would consider peers. Jane instantly reached for her badge, remembering the effectiveness it had when it gained her and Maura access to Constance Isles' hanging bottle chandelier show.
"Hey, you just can't walk in here!"
"I believe I can." Jane flashed her badge without a trace of a smile on her face. The young man with the clipboard cleared his throat before admitting defeat with a smile. The problem was that no matter how much the young man wanted her to simply leave his area, Jane was on a mission. "I need to talk to whoever is in charge around here?"
"We're having a private viewing of Jedediah Caesar's Soft Structures exhibit." Jane rolled her eyes at how aghast the young man was at her request. "I am certain she's fairly busy and we'll never find her in this crowd."
"Here's a suggestion," Jane's eyes fell on the radio clipped onto his belt. "Why don't you talk into that and ask her to come to the front."
Jane bounced on the balls of her feet while she waited. The longer she stayed at the entrance the cooler the night air seemed to get. The wind picked up, blowing her hair while her eyes scanned the crowd taking in small details that most would disregard. It was a habit she had developed as a beat cop; one that she had perfected as a Homicide detective.
Always be on your game, Rizzoli; never let your guard down.
Jane's thoughts were interrupted as she focused on a shorter woman standing before her. She had leaned over talking quietly to the young man who was guarding the door and then nodded and smiled at Jane. She motioned with her head for Jane to follow her inside. Once inside and away from the bustle of the front entrance, the woman turned around and offered Jane a shockingly genuine smile; it was certainly different than the one the guard had given her.
"Is this business or pleasure?"
"I'm afraid mostly business." Jane flashed her badge once more despite the fact that the woman hadn't asked for verification that she was, indeed, with the Boston PD. "I'm Detective Jane Rizzoli, Boston PD."
"'I'm Jennifer Smith." Jennifer extended her hand politely but shook Jane's hand strongly to indicate a forceful personality. Jane smiled; she could just hear Maura's voice reciting facts about how a handshake depicts one's personality and the various types that could occur between two people. "What do you do for Boston PD, Detective?"
"Homicide."
"Interesting, since you said this is mostly business. Did something happen here I need to know about?"
Jennifer Smith seemed nervous now; Jane was certain that it was simply because a murder investigation tonight of all nights meant bad publicity for her and for her artist.
"I'm sorry to take you away from your exhibit, but I need to ask you a few questions if you don't mind. You can try to relax a little; it's hardly newsworthy enough to ruin your evening."
"Am I that transparent?"
Jennifer Smith motioned for Jane to follow her as she journeyed down a private hallway. The longer they walked the less noise Jane could hear, thankful for the respite from the crowd. Jennifer stopped at a large mahogany door and, using a key, opened it up gesturing for Jane to enter the private office.
The office was modern, yet reflected archaic works in the form of paintings and a few sculptures. They were tactfully placed throughout the room, the colors blending in with the shades of worn leather which covered the office furniture. Jane took a seat while Jennifer crossed over to sit behind her desk, a rather large piece that was meant to be the focal point of the room.
"What can I do for you, Detective Rizzoli?" Jennifer folded her arms across her chest as she stared at Jane expectantly.
"Have you seen this painting before?" Jane removed the photograph from her pocket that she had found in the bottom of Patrick Doyle's box. She allowed Jennifer Smith to take it in her hand and study it; her brow furrowed in concentration.
"You do know there are hundreds of thousands of paintings right?"
"And I know you must have some education in them to run this museum."
"Paintings aren't really my expertise I'm afraid." Jennifer placed the picture on her desk rather than handing it back to Jane. She wasn't ready for the conversation to end just yet. "I'm a bit of a jack of all trades and an expert at none; that's the beautiful life of a museum director."
"Well I can certainly appreciate that, but I need to know if you can track it down. I believe the artist's name is Kathleen Brady."
"So you're asking me for verification of whether the artist is this Kathleen Brady or not?"
"For starters," Jane said. "Can you verify if it is her painting or not?"
"She's not an artist I've ever heard of." Jennifer picked up the picture once more and held it in her fingers. "Is she local to the area?"
"At one time yes, but I'm not sure anymore."
"Are you looking to purchase this piece? Because even if I can't track down this one we can certainly recommend ones that would compliment your taste."
"No." Jane was growing frustrated with the sudden turn in the conversation. She wasn't often on the answering side of an interrogation.
"Detective Rizzoli," Jennifer took a deep breath and exhaled before continuing. "I think we'd both be better served if you can tell me what you actually want then."
"I need to find this out if this is Kathleen Brady's painting and if it is, where she is."
"Determining whether or not this is a particular piece by an artist is actually rather hard, Detective, especially when she isn't a known artist. It all depends on if it was shown in a gallery or not; if it was created for a personal collection and not seen before, given she's not a large name in the industry, it could be virtually impossible to determine if this is her piece. It isn't as easy as being able to look at something and recite facts about it."
You have never met Dr. Maura Isles, obviously.
"What if it's hanging in a museum or gallery somewhere?"
"Well, then determining who the artist is becomes easy; but their location may not be as forthcoming. If the gallery bought the piece outright they might have their bill of sale that lists the address where they got the painting. But that doesn't mean it is her address now; if another gallery owned it or a private collector that would be listed on the bill of sale. If it's on commission, well then that's the easiest."
"Because you'd have to know where to send the money?"
"Everyone wants their pay, Detective. How old is the piece?"
"No clue," Jane answered honestly as the frustration she was feeling reflected in her eyes. Jennifer saw this and felt a rush of sympathy for her; obviously this piece was rather important and likely for personal rather than professional reasons.
"What can you tell me about it?"
"Not much," Jane pinched the bridge of her nose to ward off the pain developing behind her eyes. "I came here because I wasn't sure where to start."
Jennifer leaned back and rocked slowly in her chair. She stared at the photo for a moment before placing it on her desk and meeting Jane's gaze with her own.
"I've got a few friends that own galleries that might have some idea where to look. I'll ask them if they have something from Kathleen Brady as well or is this just about finding her rather than this painting?"
Jane sat straighter and allowed a small smile of gratitude to appear. "Her, it's about finding her more than anything."
"Detective," Jennifer's voice was cautious, "don't get your hopes up. It really is a needle in a haystack. She's not a famous artist, she might not be local anymore, and this may be her one and only painting. I'll give my friends a call tomorrow; I can't make any promises."
Jane handed Jennifer her business card and stood up, stretching out her legs. She smiled as Jennifer took the card and then shook her hand once more; she knew it was a long shot but she had to take it for Maura. Maura deserved to find her mother, to know her, and hopefully it wasn't too late for that.
Jane exited the office to begin to fight the crowds of people that were conversing over various pieces on display. She fought back the urge to roll her eyes as people started commenting on the price of the pieces and not their beauty.
Just like Maura's mom's bottle thing – junk that becomes art because someone slaps a large price tag on it and calls it that.
Jane finally managed to make her way to the front of the museum and arched her eyebrow to challenge the young man who was still manning the door. He looked around nervously, refusing to meet her gaze causing Jane to start chuckling on the journey back to her car. Jane was thankful for the silence of her car; she had already felt the crowd was overpowering and her headache wasn't getting any better. She silently weighed her options. She could return to headquarters and continue to pour through the box that Doyle had assembled for her, she could return to headquarters and pretend to be working while silently fabricating excuses to visit the morgue in the hopes of seeing Maura, she could go home and sulk waiting for a call on her fishing expedition, or she could drown her sorrows at The Dirty Robber.
There really is no choice, Rizzoli, drown yourself in beer.
The drive to the Robber was uneventful and she was thankful that it was quick. It seemed all the traffic that usually plagued the streets had halted; Jane laughed as she silently thought that perhaps all the cars were parked at the museum. Jane parked her car in her usual spot and walked inside, blowing into her cupped hands to bring them warmth.
Jane forced herself to smile when she saw Korsak, Frost, and Maura all in their normal booth nursing their various drinks.
"You made it." Korsak poured Jane a beer from the pitcher and offered it to her with a smile. "I wasn't sure if you got my message."
"I didn't," Jane sat down and ignored the various quizzical looks she was receiving from her friends. "I just stopped in to have a beer."
"We all needed a break," Frost said throwing back the rest of his drink and signaling for another. "One more file and I would have lost my damn mind."
"Me too," Maura chimed in.
"No offense but you losing your mind is very different than Frost losing his."
"Why is that?"
"Yeah," Frost said, "why is that, Jane?"
"Because you have a rather large brain, Maura, that can retain almost every single factoid that you come across. Frost is…." Jane paused looking at Frost crossing his arms over his chest in defiance.
"Armed and dangerous?"
"Young and pretty?" Korsak and Jane laughed at Korsak's jab.
"Barry does have amazing eyelashes," Maura beamed with pride at her contribution.
"I'm still armed and dangerous."
"Did you guys find anything new?" Jane opted to change the subject.
"We found a bunch of files telling us what bad guys we already knew they were. We found dust mites at the bottom of the box and now I found an empty pool table if you'd care to make a wager on your earlier statement that you could kick my ass in pool, Frost."
Frost wagged his eyebrows in Jane's direction and then stood to follow Korsak to the table. Jane was thankful for the silence, despite knowing that it wouldn't last long.
"I was surprised that you were gone when I went upstairs to call it a night."
Jane nodded as she sipped her beer in silence. Maura was fidgeting; she was nervous about the conversation she was about to approach but knew she had to push forward.
"I didn't tell you that it wasn't going away to have you run away," Maura offered quietly.
"I'm not running."
"But you're also not telling me how you feel, Jane."
"We kissed," Jane lowered her voice as she spoke about their intimate moment. "My tongue in your mouth wasn't conclusive enough for you?" Jane smiled as she marveled at her ability to make a joke in almost any serious conversation.
"Well if that was my only indication than I'd say you feel rather euphoric regarding the kiss."
"It was a joke, Maura," Jane gulped the rest of the beer already feeling relaxed. "Why do you insist that we keep talking about it?"
"Why do you insist that we don't?" Maura paused only a moment before continuing. "You can imagine how hard it is for me to read you; you're not very forthcoming and frankly I find that disconcerting. Normally if someone kissed me I would ask you what it meant. You would guess at their feelings and I would accept it as gospel because you're more experienced at…."
"Humans. At least live ones?" Jane smiled as Maura considered her answer that continued her point.
"Emotions….and you have no issue guessing at the feelings of others but won't reveal your own?"
Jane closed her eyes and balanced her head in her hands. She took a deep breath and then exhaled, preparing herself for the unavoidable conversation.
"I don't know what I'm feeling, Maura. I don't typically kiss my best friend."
"Well I think that goes for both of us." Maura placed her hand over Jane's in an effort to reassure her. "I just am less bothered by it than you appear to be."
Maura took comfort in the fact that Jane hadn't bothered to move her hand; it was the most contact Jane had allowed since the kiss at the cabin.
"Why is that, Maura?"
"I would suspect it is a combination of things. I would venture to guess that my knowledge of human sexuality and the Kinsey scale puts things in perspective for me, perhaps it is because I studied abroad for so long and truly sexuality and the expression of it is far more open there than here in the United States. Maybe it could be that I trust you; if I'm honest with myself I've come to understand that I love you, Jane, and that kiss could just simply be a manifestation of that love."
"Love me, or loveme?"
"Are you just repeating yourself now?"
"Maura, there are a bunch of different loves!" Jane was now feeling the tension develop in her neck and between her shoulders. "I love you too, but I don't know if that means that I should have kissed you back."
"Is this because I'm a woman?"
Jane sighed; she had known that Maura being a woman was a rather large part of her dilemma and inability to process the kiss.
"If it's because I'm a woman, Jane, in this day and age that is somewhat small-minded to limit yourself solely to the outer edges of the Kinsey scale. Very few people are either a 0 which indicates someone is exclusively heterosexual or a 6 which is an indication of exclusively homosexual."
"Will you please keep your voice down?" Jane prayed that nobody else was listening.
"The numbers in between are merely degrees of sexuality that can change over time, Jane."
"So are you saying you're firmly in the middle of the scale, Dr. Isles? I can remember a time when Dr. Ian was the love of your life and I'm pretty certain he has a penis."
"He most certainly does," Maura chuckled when Jane made a look of disgust. "But I didn't fall in love with him because he had a penis. I fell in love with him because he is intellectually stimulating and I truly am proud of him and admire his work."
"Well we know that wasn't the case with Giovanni," Jane laughed as she poured another glass of beer from the pitcher. "He's not intellectually anything…."
"But he was hawt." Jane spit her beer out at Maura's spot on imitation of Giovanni. She truly was developing a rather keen sense of humor.
"So you're really not bothered by the fact that you kissed me?"
"I'm bothered more about the fact that it appears to have affected our friendship and I just…"
Jane watched as Maura blinked back tears. She covered Maura's hand with her own and waited patiently for Maura to finish her sentence, patience being yet another thing that Maura had taught her.
"You're my best friend, Jane, and I don't want to ruin that. If something added to it, that would be one thing, but I don't want to take away from it."
"You didn't ruin it," Jane said leaning back in the booth. "It's just hard for me to understand what I'm feeling."
"Why?"
"Because every time I look at you I remember that kiss. It would help if I could figure out how I felt about it."
"You'll talk to me? If you need help?" Maura finished her chalky red because standing on her designer heels allowing her to tower over Jane who remained sitting. "Just don't shut me out, Jane, please."
Once Jane nodded her head in agreement, Maura leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on Jane's cheek. Jane watched as Maura waived her goodbyes to Frost and Korsak and sauntered through the door to the outside. It was then that Jane exhaled the breath she was holding and closed her eyes.