AN: Sigh…this chapter was so hard to write. Totally didn't like the way it turned out. But, "the show must go on!" So, sorry if it is not as nice.
Warning: a bit of violence here.
The first thing Maura noticed when she came to was the throbbing in her head. It felt heavy and suppressed, as if something were pressing against her brain. She sat up gingerly and found her hands bound behind her back.
However, there was one thing that made her consciousness come to fully. The phone was in her pocket. It was either pure luck, or Christopher was one dumb jerk. She mentally assessed herself and found out that the only thing hurting was her head.
Her vision cleared and she could see that she was in a small hut. It smelled like fish. As she looked around, she realized why. There were four different kinds of fishing rods lining one side of the wall. There was a door on the wall right in from of her. One single window was fixed in the wall opposite the fishing rod.
A tackle box stood on top of a small table. Christopher was sitting on the chair next to the spot where the tackle box was, leaning his head on his hand. "You're up." His voice sounded hoarse.
"Why?" was the first question Maura asked. She winced when she felt her parched throat.
"I thought it would end with Claire, but you had to come around and poke your nose in the investigation. I know that if I were to let you go, you would have told that other friend of yours, that Jane Rizzoli, and I would have come crumbling down. I might as well bring down as many as I can, eh? I am sure people will come looking for you." Looking down at his watch, "It's 8 P.M. now, I am only going to give them only six hours. Then, if they do not find you, I will dispose of you and see how long before they can find your body and whether they can connect the dots to me."
With a start, Maura remembered that she hadn't told anybody where she was going. But, they will start to notice. Plus, I've got my phone, I've just got to keep talking and keep him distracted. "Why, Christopher? And, most importantly why kill your own daughter? Why?"
"You really won't shut up about that, huh? Well, since this may be your last few hours on earth, I'll tell you why. My daughter, my baby, turned into a freaking dyke. You know what I hate the most? Freaking dykes and faggots! I suppose you saw Max before? I heard that they brought him in for questioning. Well, at least Jane would be the one to see him. He had looks, he was the son I always wanted. He was like me. He had things going well for him. I was elated when he started dating Marianne. But, she had to go and defile herself with that Claire. You know how they met, at a flower shop. Where Marianne worked. Marianne told me it was love at first sight. Do you believe that? At first sight? Then she broke up with Max after being with him for a year. You should have seen how that changed Max. Suddenly, life had no meaning for him. It had such a negative effect on him."
"Well, you could have tried to talk to Marianne, find out why she wanted to be with Claire. She was a grown woman with grown feelings." Maura piped up. Unbeknownst to Christopher, who hadn't been paying much attention, Maura had managed to sit somewhat sideways and dig the phone out her pocket. She her breath as she shifted back with her face facing straight at Christopher. She quickly pressed the speed dial and prayed that Jane wouldn't shout into the phone.
"You think I didn't?" Christopher shouted. Maura winced. "She simply refused to listen to reason. She totally went against what I wanted. I only wanted the best for her. You know what she did? She just turned around, gathered a few of her stuff, and walked out the door. How's that for you? Raised her for her entire life and that's how she treats you. Just walk out of your life like that."
"Why didn't you just let it be then? I saw the damage that you did to Marianne and Claire. You were very controlled. I wouldn't expect such discipline."
Suddenly, in between the silence before Christopher answered, the sound of a monster-truck loud horn blared into the phone. Maura's heart stopped when Christopher leaped out from his chair and towards her.
He wrenched her away from the wall, causing the phone to clatter to the floor. He roared as he snatched it up, threw it on the floor and crushed it with the heel of his foot. He then turned his fury to Maura. "You bitch!" He kicked her right in the stomach, knocking the all the air out of her lungs.
He grabbed her under the shirt's collar and hauled her up with one hand, using the other hand, he rained punches all over her body and face. Maura felt one of the ribs give way, making an audible snap. She screamed in pain.
But, Christopher ignored her cries and his next punch, this time, broke her nose, spurting blood all over his shirt and a bit sprinkled on his face.
Jane, I know you got that call. Please come soon.
Once more, Jane and Frost interviewed Max Chaitin who was serving some time for charges on stalking. Frost set the phone records in front of him. "Would you like to explain why Marianne's dad, Christopher, called you so frequently?"
"'Cause we're talking?" Max replied in a duh voice.
"About what exactly?"
"Stuff." Was the guarded response.
Jane rubbed her eyes. She hated suspects like this. Those that make you go one big round before you can get a substantial answer. "Listen, buddy, I know that you know more than you had let on. If I have to dig up the information by myself, I will make sure that your prison stay will be so bad, you will wish you were never born. Ya hear me? I'm sick and tired of playing games. Tell me what stuff exactly, that the both of you were talking about." Her voice commanding. She stared at him, her eyes ablaze with as much fury as she could muster.
"Fine, fine. Chris wanted me to find out where Marianne had moved and there Claire was staying. I was to give him a weekly update."
"Do you know why he wanted to know their schedule?" Frost asked.
"I think he wanted to get into Marianne's house. If I am not wrong, his wife had the key to her daughter's house. As long as he paid me, I was happy."
Finally, a break. With the evidence found on Claire and with what Max had said, it would be enough to bring Christopher in for questioning, and hopefully, get to the bottom of this case.
Jane looked to Frost. "I think it's time to pay the Johnsons another visit."
When she walked into the bull pen, she found Susie standing near her desk. "Susie, whatcha doing here?"
"It's doctor Isles. She still isn't back. She knew that she had another autopsy to finish up for detective Crowe, it's 7:45 P.M. and it's not like her to be so late."
"She's not back yet? Frost, I'll meet you at the car park. Susie, let's go to her office. Maybe she wrote a note or something." Jane said as she moved to the lift while calling her mother. "Hey, Ma, you at Maura's guest house right now? ... Is she at home? … Okay, thanks, Ma …. No, don't worry. I'm just checking where she is. … No, stay there, Ma! … Good, just stay there." Jane rolled her eyes as she hung up.
"Why don't you just give doctor Isles a call?" Susie reasonably asked.
"Unless I am absolutely certain that Maura is not in danger, I will call her. Think about it, if there were the remote possibility that she were kidnapped we would jeopardize her if the kidnapper had not taken her phone and he hears the ringing, destroying her only lifeline. We would have to wait for her to make a move. She's a smart one. If he did take, he would most certainly have destroyed it." the rational part of Jane's brain reasoned.
Everything on the desk looked the same. After all, Maura could not stand clutter as much as parents cannot stand rebellious teenagers. However, Jane noticed that the one of the files was open, the one containing the evidence and pictures of the contents of the backpack. Scanning through the papers, Jane noticed that the ones containing information on the cream was gone.
Her head snapped up. That tingling of her intestines was back. More often than not, they had always been correct. "I think I know where she went."
The first thing Jane that noticed as soon as Frost pulled up to the Johnson's house, was Maura's Lexus. Her heart stared pounding as she and Frost walked up to the door. "Excuse me, Mrs. Johnson, is Christopher at home?" Jane asked once the door was opened. This was not a time for needless pleasantries.
"Oh, hi, detectives. No, Chris left about an hour ago. He said that one of his buddies had an emergency and needed help."
"Did you see him when he left the house?"
"No, I was in the kitchen, stir-frying a wok of broccolis. He was in a rush, so he just shouted out to me that he was heading out. What is this all about?" Mrs. Johnson was starting to get alarmed at these sudden questions.
"We have reason to suspect that Christopher might have something to do with the Medical Examiner's disappearance." Jane was glad that she did not break into hives like Maura, for the only "reason" was because her gut told her so. "I would appreciate it if you could tell me if your husband has any other small cabin or hutch?"
Mrs. Johnson looked about ready to faint. "What do you mean my husband might be a suspect?"
"Mrs. Johnson, please, time is of the essence. The faster we get information, the faster we can solve up any 'misunderstanding' or such." Jane pleaded.
"Of course, of course. Well, he had a little fishing hut somewhere near the one of the forests, I can't remember which one. Anyways, here is the location." Mrs. Johnson replied as she took a sticky note from one of the drawers near the entrance and wrote down the address.
"Thank you so much. We will keep you informed." Jane thankfully took the proffered sticky note.
"Frost, pass me the keys please, I want to drive." Jane demanded as they walked back to the car.
At this request, Frost's eyes widened slightly. "Uh-uh. Even when you are not in a hurry, it is a hazard to other traffic. Let me." Frost spoke with a voice laced with steel, subduing any argument that would have come out of Jane's mouth.
Frost was true to his word and got the both of them safely to the forest. They had to trek through the forest to get to the little hut, which was actually quite small. It looked to be about ten feet by seven feet. As they approached the door, Jane motioned to Frost to angle himself close to the window, should their suspect choose to run out the window.
Jane banged her fist against the door. "Boston police. Open up!" She quickly counted to five, One thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four thousand, five thousand, before shifting all her weight onto her shoulder and shoving against the door –