CHAPTER THREE

Maura came to a stop in front of the detectives and dipped her head in greeting, "Jane, Barold."

Frost felt the tension and decided bold action was the only way to break it. He reached in for a hug, squeezing the slim blonde gently. "Nice to see you again, Dr. Isles."

Maura clutched at him with one arm, relaxing into the familiarity of an old friend and continuing to smile in Jane's direction.

Jane smiled back and then rubbed at her chin, chuckling, "Doesn't take a genius to work out who our new Medical Examiner is, eh, Barold?"

Frost released Maura and she stepped forward to embrace Jane, too. Dark curls tickled her face and she closed her eyes for a moment as several years worth of memories came flooding back.

Frost smirked as Maura let go and stepped back, "It's been too long, Doc."

"Yes, well -"

He was bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, excitement oozing from his pores, "Are you here for the Mitchell case?"

"I, er, yes. It's my first official case since I moved back to Boston."

Maura's phrasing caused Jane's detective spidey senses to ping, and she raised a questioning eyebrow, "Official?"

Maura tipped her head from side-to-side, a little quirk that Jane always found to be cute, "I was contemplating relocation anyway, so when the position came up suddenly I took it. I've worked on several BPD cases recently as a consultant; they're familiar with me and vice versa." She shrugged as if it was no big deal. "It seemed the best option."

Jane was a little taken aback. It was news to her that Maura still had links to the department, though not very surprising she supposed; Maura was the best in the state, the best in any state probably.

"Very logical," said Frost with a firm nod. "So where are you staying? Need a ride anywhere? We were just leaving."

"Oh, no, thank you." She was almost embarrassed to explain, "My mother is staying with me; she wanted to make sure I was settled and she arranged a car." This wasn't the time to go into detail about exactly how much her mother has done for her over the last three weeks, but just the mention of the car sounded overly privileged to her ears.

Maura lifted a hand to Jane's elbow and indicated she should step aside to let someone pass.

It was the elder Talucci woman that sauntered past and continued to stride down the corridor like she owned the fucking building. The gaudy hoop earrings remained along with a plethora of other jingling costume jewelry that Jane was certain wasn't conducive to properly caring for the elderly and infirm. The brunette sneered as Carla's swaying ass disappeared around a corner and she mentally cursed the effortless way in which the woman could manipulate Angela like a mindless sheep.

"How's Ian? Jane asked without thinking. Maura hadn't mentioned him, hadn't implied his presence in Boston at all, but her preoccupation with Carla and Angela had caused Jane to only realize this a second after she'd spoken.

"He's, er…" The blonde adjusted the case she was carrying, gripping the handle in front of her with two hands. The doctor was never very good at covering up the truth but she could evade it like a pro. "He's – I don't know, we're not together anymore."

"Oh." Jane looked apologetic but Maura waved her off.

"How's Casey?" asked the blonde, sounding genuinely interested.

"Oh, he's fine. He's home at the moment, has been for a while." The brunette waved a dismissive hand and shrugged, leaving Maura with a slightly concerned look, "Not much to tell, really."

"Well," she brightened. "Maybe we can catch up sometime?"

"Yeah," Jane nodded, smiling. "I'd like that."

"Me too!" shouted Frost, beaming and throwing his arms out. He gripped both women in a group bear hug, making them giggle until Jane tried to wriggle free and swatted at him with flailing hands.

"Get off me, you big dork."

oOo

Back at the precinct, Jane and Frost relayed the results of their staff interviews to Korsak.

Jane concluded by saying, "Basically we need to identify the key residents to interview. They're potential witnesses, but reliability will be a problem as some of them suffer from dementia or Alzheimer's, that kind of thing."

Frost added, "There are a lot of them to get through."

Korsak sighed, glancing at the wall clock. There was no way he could send them back over there this late in the day, they would never make it home tonight. "I'll clear it with the manager and we'll go back there tomorrow."

"We should get CSRU to take prints and swabs in case we need them later, kill two birds with one stone," Frost suggested.

A nod from Korsak had him picking up the handset of his desk phone to make arrangements before they left for the day. The older man turned to Jane, "We've got to analyse those other recent deaths. But I can't help thinking it may just be a natural spike given the fact most residents have serious medical conditions."

Jane stared off into the distance, restless fingers fiddling with a ballpoint pen on her desk. "I've got a gut feeling, though, Vince. That senior nurse that showed us around, there's just something about her, like… she's too perfect y'know. Everything she did and said was for effect, showing us how good she was at her job."

"Some people take pride in their work," he scoffed.

"No, I know, it just… it's like the hand gel thing." At his confused expression she explained, "When we were done talking to the manager and the nurse came to show us round she did this thing with the sanitizer, cleaning her hands with the stuff… but it was like a goddamn demonstration. Normal people don't do that, do they?" She looked up at Korsak, searching for a little understanding in his eyes.

The older detective considered her for a moment, before tipping his head in concession. "Maybe," he said almost cryptically.

Jane shuddered slightly, "I got a bad feeling about her anyway. Creeped me out."

oOo

Maura and Constance worked around each other in easy silence, making dinner in Maura's kitchen.

Constance rinsed and chopped vegetables and herbs by the sink as Maura tended the pans on the stove top. Every now and then Maura would retrieve more ingredients and switch out full bowls for used empty ones that Constance would then wash.

Constance had caught an unusually contemplative look on her daughter's face once or twice. She hoped it had nothing to do with Ian; it had taken months to pull Maura out of herself after that fiasco. She wanted to make sure her daughter was okay. "How was your first day back, darling?"

"Fine," she said automatically. Then, "Good, actually. I ran into Jane today."

"Oh?"

"The case that came in this morning is a possible homicide."

"Ah," Constance nodded, remembering clearly the very early morning call Maura had received. "You knew you'd bump into her eventually."

"She says hi. And she looks great!" Though that wasn't the whole story, the doctor wasn't certain enough about it to mention the sadness she'd caught behind Jane's eyes.

"I'm glad," Constance said simply, her eyes and tone softening sufficiently to convey to Maura the many permutations of her meaning. I'm glad your day went well, I'm glad Jane's okay, I'm glad you might get your friend back.

Maura smiled and returned to stirring the contents of her pan but Constance caught a glint there, a tiny spark of something that she'd only seen once before. It had nothing to do with Ian.

oOo

Jane was busy getting dressed in a button-up shirt and pant suit. She could feel her husband's eyes burning into the back of her head. Turning to the side and shucking on her boots she grunted, "What?"

Casey watched her stand up and clip her badge, cellphone and gun holster onto her belt. "Nothing," he mumbled.

Her arms flailed out at the sides of her body before flattened palms slapped the outside of her thighs, "You're looking at me like I pissed on the dog. There must be something."

He waved a lazy hand in her direction from his prone position on the bed, "It's just… it's not the best look for you."

"You're gonna give me shit about how I dress now, too?" Angela had nagged and whined on so many occasions about adding frilly skirts and floral fabrics to her wardrobe. It was a never-ending battle to make her appear more womanly. Menacingly, she leaned over him, "How… exactly… do you expect me to dress for my job?"

"It's just a bit… butch, that's all."

She squeaked in astonishment, "And fatigues aren't? What's the fucking difference? This is my uniform. I've dressed like this every day since you met me!"

"Don't get upset, baby," he placated patronizingly. "I'm just saying… you could switch the shirts for like, I dunno… a v-neck tee or something and it wouldn't look quite so…"

She'd heard enough. Grabbing her wallet off the dresser, she couldn't get out of there fast enough. "There are many things I could wear instead of this suit, too, Casey." She smiled snidely, anger burning in the pit of her stomach, sarcasm fueling her like caffeine, her yelling rant underlined by the slamming of her bedroom door, "But if I wore that tiny, crotchless, tasteless excuse for an outfit you bought me on my last birthday then where would I put my fucking gun?"

oOo

Jane leaned over her desk and snatched the manila file out of Frost's hands. They had spent the morning going over the last few staff interviews from the day before as well as figuring out their game plan but now they had an autopsy report to work with.

She sat back and read the file silently, chewing on a fingernail, as Frost informed Korsak of the results, "Dr. Isles confirmed Harry Mitchell's body was dehydrated and covered in bruises; seems to confirm the daughter's suspicions of neglect. Not only that, she found a needle mark on his arm. It took her a while to find it 'cause it was on a liver spot or mole or something, not easy to see and definitely not a place you would normally place an injection. Whoever did it tried to cover their tracks."

"And he wasn't given anything as part of his standard treatment?" asked Korsak.

Frost shook his head, "Nothing on record and all the blood tests came back; nothing in his system. But cause of death right now is still a heart attack."

Jane spoke without looking up from the file, "His heart was in a good condition, his records said so and Maura confirmed it." When she looked up it was to find two sets of eyes peering at her questioningly. "I called her on the way in."

"Ah," breathed Frost. "Figures."

"She said something stopped his heart, possibly potassium chloride." She didn't admit to that being her guess and not Maura's, since the blonde had point blank refused to speculate on the substance responsible.

"Would that do it?" asked Frost, looking to the older detective.

"It's been used before," Korsak nodded. "There was a case like this back in oh-six, mercy killings."

"Oh, yeah," Jane snapped her fingers. "Lakeview Hospital."

Nonchalantly, Korsak added, "They use it in lethal injections on death row."

Frost was rubbing his chin, exasperated, "We still have no motive, nothing to even connect all the recent deaths together."

"At this rate, Maura will want to exhume the other bodies." Jane chuckled as Frost blanched at the thought.

"Once we're done with witnesses, you two need to formally interview the nurses that were on shift when Harry Mitchell died," added Korsak.

"Everyone we spoke to said the Chief Staff Nurse, Charlie Winter, is wonderful; couldn't praise her enough. One young nurse in particular, Rachel Deakin, went all misty-eyed when we talked about her, it was weird."

Frost was frantically pressing computer keys. When his search concluded he looked at Korsak and Jane in turn, "Charlie and Rachel were both on duty during four of the five recent deaths."

"Well then," exclaimed Korsak. "Complaints or no complaints, the neglect aspect will have to wait until we clear this homicide." Jane and Frost were already moving, grabbing suit jackets from the back of their chairs and stuffing keys into their pockets as the Sergeant ordered, "You know where to start. Get going."