Blue

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Jane Rizzoli and Maura Isles do not belong to me. No infringement intended and no profit will be made from their use.

When Jane entered police headquarters the next morning the uniformed officer at the front desk told her Lt. Cavanaugh had instructed him to show Jane her new office. Jane followed him and was surprised when he hit the down button on the elevator. They exited the elevator and turned towards the library-like rows of shelving that contained case files and to an office in the back corner of the basement.

Jane looked at the uniformed officer, "You're shitting me, right? This is a joke?"

"No, ma'm, this is where Lt. Cavanaugh instructed me to bring you this morning."

Jane stared at him, waiting for him to give it up and admit it was a joke. When he didn't she said sighed and said, "Fine, I think I've got it from here."

Jane looked around. On one side of the room there was a brown couch that looked like it was at least fifty years old. On the other side was a metal desk with a rolling chair on one side and a basic metal chair on the other. Jane sat down in the rolling chair and opened the folder with her name on it that was sitting on the desk. Inside the folder was a spreadsheet that listed unsolved murder cases. Each line simply listed the case number and basic info like names, dates, cause of death, and locations. Jane counted out fifty pages and quickly calculated that there had to be over 1,000 cases listed.

Cavanaugh knocked on her door around 11am and found Jane pacing back and forth in the small room. "Rizzoli, how is everything?"

"Seriously? First, you told me you were giving me an office and this more closely resembles a prison cell."

"I'm sorry, but it was the only one available."

"Right. And second, do you know how many unsolved cases there actually are? There must be more than a thousand here. What the fuck were these detectives doing all these years, having a giant circle jerk everyday? I could spend an entire year just reading all of these cases. How am I supposed to figure out what might actually be solvable?"

"If this isn't what you want to do we can forget it and you can go back to your regular homicide assignment."

"No."

"No?" Cavanaugh said, feigning surprise.

"No, I can't just ignore all of these cases now. Let me at least take some time to look at some more closely. I know you're not actually surprised by that. You knew as soon as I saw how many cases there were I wouldn't leave them. Either that or you're completely full of shit and you're hoping I get frustrated and just quit. Or you're following someone else's orders and that person wants me to go insane or quit or do something stupid so they can fire me."

"Well, if you decide which one you think it is, let me know," Cavanaugh said and turned to walk away.

"I still want a better office, one that isn't in the basement," Jane called after him.

"Don't hold your breath," Cavanaugh said as he walked away.

Maura didn't see Jane but she heard her voice when Jane exited the elevator that morning and was chatting with whoever was with her. After that Maura kept an eye out but she only saw a uniformed officer get back in the elevator and later she saw Lt. Cavanaugh come and go. The more time went by, the more distracted Maura became until she realized that she done nothing more than stare through the lab windows at the hallway for fifteen minutes straight.

Maura walked out into the hallway and walked in the direction she had seen Cavanaugh go. Maura had never had reason to go into the file stacks so she wasn't sure what exactly was in the other half of the basement. She slipped off her heels and picked them up and then tiptoed down one of the aisles towards the back of the building. As she neared the back she could see a shaft of light coming from the right. Maura peeked her head around the end of the aisle and was able to partly see into what now appeared to be Jane's office.

Jane was sitting at a desk and looking through papers in a folder. Jane was resting her hand in her right hand, which was buried in her long curls. Maura watched as Jane intently read whatever was in front of her and occasionally took notes. After a few minutes, Maura turned away and silently made her way back to the lab.

Maura closed and locked the door to her office and laid down on her couch. Maura thought she had been doing okay, but not seeing Jane just meant she could ignore all of her feelings. It was going to be impossible to do that with Jane back at work. Maura had to admit to herself that she was in fact doing terribly. She had cut herself off from everybody. The only person she saw outside of work was Angela and that wasn't exactly by choice.

Jane hadn't tried to contact her in two months. Was it because she didn't want to or was it because Maura had stopped contacting her? They weren't going to be able to avoid each other for much longer. What was going to happen then? How could she even look Jane in the eyes and not relive that day two months ago? No, Maura told herself, I'm not going to think about it. What happened happened. It's in the past. I cannot let my feelings interfere with my life anymore. I will not feel anything anymore. We can work together because feelings will not interfere with my life anymore.

For the rest of the day Maura tried to focus on work but kept on alert for any sign of Jane. When it got to be past 6pm, Maura realized that Jane had probably used the stairway on the other side of the basement to leave so she didn't have to pass by the lab again.

After an afternoon of scanning the list of murders hoping for some inspiration or magic clues, Jane went home. She saw the light on in her apartment from the street and assumed her mother was there again. But when she opened her door she found her father sitting in her living room. "Hey Pop. Where have you been?" Jane asked warily.

"Hi sweetie. I've been around, here and there, you know."

"No, I don't know," Jane said and sat down on the couch next to her father.

"Jane-"

"No, I haven't seen you in weeks. Grown ass men with a wife and a family and a business are supposed to be at home, not around."

"Jane, I'm still your father, you shouldn't talk to me like that."

Jane sighed. "What's going on Pop? Why are you here?"

"I just wanted to check on you, see how you're doing."

"I'm fine. Frankie is fine. Tommy is doing pretty well. And even Ma is doing fine. We're all doing fine."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"You really want to do this, huh?" Jane said angrily. "How do you think I'm doing? I've spent two months recovering from a self-inflicted gunshot wound and I didn't see you at all during that time. I shot myself so that my little brother, who was dying in front of me, could get help when we were being held captive by another cop. The brass doesn't seem too interested in having me be a cop anymore. My parents have lost their home and are getting a divorce on the heels of a lot of trauma that I caused. So that's how I'm doing."

Frank was silent for a minute before saying, "Janie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you or even your mother. I just..."

Jane interrupted and said softly, "I know Pop. It's okay. We make decisions and they have unintended consequences. We hurt people we didn't mean to hurt."

"What happened between your mother and me is not your fault."

"I'm a little too old for that line to work. Fortunately I'm also too old to be scarred for life by my parents getting divorced."

"I knew you'd understand, Jane."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You've always been headstrong, making the decisions you want to regardless of how others felt."

Jane laughed bitterly. "That's not exactly a compliment."

"It wasn't supposed to be. It's just reality. No, I should get going. It was good to see you, Jane." Frank got up and kissed Jane on the cheek before heading to the door.

"You too, Pop."

After taking Jo out for a quick walk, Jane sat on the couch for awhile thinking about the conversation they'd just had and then decided to go out and get some food. Jane grabbed her brother's old jacket and her knit hat. The days were still reasonably mild but after dark it was getting fricking cold. Jane stuffed her hands in the pockets of the jacket and wandered aimlessly from her Back Bay apartment into the South End.

After walking around until she was too cold to stay outside anymore, Jane stepped into a pub, sat down at a table in the corner where she could still see the television showing the Bruins game, and ordered a hamburger and a beer. Jane was deep in thought so she was startled when someone was suddenly speaking to her.

"Hi, am I interrupting you? It looked like you were finished eating."

"Uh, no. I guess I was just spacing out." Jane gestured to the chair in front of her and the woman sat down.

"My name is Erin."

"Jane."

"I hope this isn't weird, but I think I saw you at the bar in Somerville a week or two ago. You left before I had a chance to say anything to you.''

Jane smiled self-consciously, "Oh, right. Yeah, that was probably me."

"If you're finished here, I live just around the corner if you want to go somewhere a little more private."

Jane considered briefly. She never went anywhere with guys with who tried to pick her up, and now she was considering going home with a woman she didn't know for the second time in the past week. Erin was definitely attractive though: medium height, long wavy brown hair, light brown eyes, probably in her early 30s. "Sure, let's go."

Erin led the way to her apartment. "So, Erin, what do you do?" Jane asked during their walk.

"Graphic design, I work for a marketing firm? You?"

"I'm a cop, actually homicide detective."

"Really? How noble."

"I don't know about that," Jane muttered.

They'd reached Erin's apartment and as she unlocked the door, she said, "Well, how about sexy then?

"I don't know about that either."

Erin hung up Jane's coat and directed her to sit on the couch. "Give me a break? You must know how fucking hot you are?" Jane could only blush and make a disbelieving face in return. "Well you are. All I've wanted to do since I first saw you is get you here and make out with you. Do you want something to drink?"

Jane cleared her throat. "No thank you. I'm good."

"Good," Erin said before straddling Jane on the couch. They kissed for awhile and after shirts had been removed, Erin suggested a move to the bedroom. They finished undressing each other on the way and after awhile were both collapsed on the bed panting heavily.

"God, Jane, your fingers, Jesus Christ."

Jane grinned smugly, "Yeah, well your tongue is, damn." After a few minutes of silence Jane said, "I, um, my dog is probably desperate for a walk."

Erin let out a short laugh. "Do I at least get to have your number?"

"You have something to write with?" Jane wrote down her number, put on her discarded clothing and made her way home.

A/N: I don't know how many unsolved murders there actually are in Boston but I think over 1,000 is a reasonable estimate going back 50 years. I don't know why but the Boston Police Department consistently has the worst murder clearance rate in the country. My understanding is that it is a good year when they get 40% and are frequently in the low 30s. Many city homicide departments can get in the 50s or higher. Based on the number of murders and a using a clearance rate of 40% there are over 700 unsolved murders going back 25 years.