CHAPTER FIVE

She tugged on the silk belt, releasing its hold around her waist before slipping the floral robe from her shoulders. She hung it on the back of the bedroom door and padded across the plush carpet to the bed, feeling its softness push between her bare toes.

Settling under the covers and turning out the bedside light, her mind was a whirling storm of thoughts that wouldn't let her rest.

It was too much, this house; far too big for one person. She'd said so at the time but her mother wouldn't hear of it, taking so much of a shine to it Maura thought Constance might, in fact, never leave.

She had her own home office now, a necessity of course, if one was being practical, sensible. And a workout room, a little luxury that would save her gym fees, though there was something to be said for the companionship a class offered she supposed. There had been space for a large dining table, duly filled, since Constance's motto was You just never know, darling but she'd yet to set a place for one.

But it was the back porch swing that had sold it to her, no matter how much Constance had swooned over the kitchen and open plan living space.

There wasn't a garden to speak of; she'd never had any aspirations in that area, but several containers and flower boxes, mainly by the front and back door gave it a little life, a little colour that brightened her mood every time she came and went.

The whole thing had been a blur really. The sale went through in two days after Constance secured a pricey lawyer, supplied the cash, and talked on the phone at all hours making arrangements. The decorators had been in and out inside of a week. The furniture delivery men and contractors were equally efficient, hustled and harassed half to death by the formidable, orchestrating Isles woman.

She was glad, of course, and grateful. Constance had done so much for her, much more than she thought a grown child might deserve after everything…

Flipping the bedside lamp back on, Maura reached over and dragged the drawer open below it. Taking out a handful of small photos she sat back against the pillows and pulled the duvet up. It wasn't cold tonight, outside or inside, but she wrapped herself up in it just the same, sheltering.

She flipped through the first few photos quickly, smiling at memories long since past. Pausing on one in particular, she gazed for a long minute before stroking a fingertip down its surface. The doctor's own face smiled back, beaming, eyes sparkling and one big dimple on her cheek offering a falsely youthful glow, but her finger lingered on the woman next to her. She was about Maura's own height with dark hair, an intense, brooding air about her with equally dark, burning eyes set under low eyebrows. She seemed to hold a great weight despite the smile she reflected back at Maura.

Something inside told her enough was enough, she'd come too far to dwell further and she flipped the photo to the back of the pile.

The next photograph was much older, of her and Jane this time, one she didn't recall having seen in a very long time. Their closeness wasn't much different at first glance and it caused a sharp stab in Maura's chest. She recognized the same relationship… friendship, in each photo, but where the previous shot had an arm slung around Maura's waist, this one had an arm slung around her shoulders to account for Jane's height. Their hips weren't quite touching either, so that was another difference. She studied hard, scrutinized every minute detail, searching out more differences. There were bound to be more. There had to be.

She slammed the stack back on the bedside table with a huff and turned off the light. Her head fell back onto the pillow with a thud and she threw an arm over her moist eyes. It was her own fault, she knew, but she'd give up her jacuzzi bath right now for a full night's sleep.

oOo

With her hip propped against the counter and her cellphone held to one ear, Angela was keeping her eye on the customers that occupied a few tables around the little café. With her free hand on the other hip, she nodded, "Well, that's what I said, Carla. Frank will just have to deal with it." She turned to mouth thanks to someone leaving their empties on the front counter on their way out. "It's no worse than all the money he spends on beer. Better to be safe than sorry." She fished into the oversize front pocket of her green apron, retrieving a damp cloth and wiping some crumbs from the counter by the cash register. "Well, I'm more convinced than ever that your Bella is right about the water. It does seem to be spreading. Hold on..." She quickly hid her phone, covering the lit screen with her palm as Mr. Stanley exited the rear kitchen and made his way out from behind the counter.

He pointed to the exit on his way past the glass display case and Angela gave a full, fake smile, "We need more stock from the storeroom."

The second he was out of earshot she continued, "Sometimes it's the ones you least expect that are… that way. You'd never think to look at him that he had two moms." She shook her head, "What?… Lucky your kids aren't that way? Yeah, well, I don't know if I'd go that far, Carla." She laughed, "Leaving town would be a bit drastic but I see what you mean."

oOo

A uniformed BPD parking attendant tipped his cap at the brunette and smiled as she mounted the kerb, "Morning, Rizzoli."

"Carl," she nodded politely.

He threw his arms out at his side as she climbed away up the steps to the precinct's main entrance, "What, no good morning kiss today?"

She snorted a laugh, "Dream on, pal."

He called to her from the sidewalk, "One of these days you'll come to your senses, gorgeous."

She raised one eyebrow and grinned over her shoulder, "I'm sure I will."

Frost was waiting for her at the door, holding it open, "You know you broke that poor man's heart when you got married, right?"

She thumped him in the arm as she passed, "Put a sock in it."

"Ow!" He chuckled and rubbed his bicep exaggeratedly, following her all the way into the café.

Angela spotted the detectives approaching and ended her call as quickly as she could, stowing it in her apron pocket and offering a welcoming smile.

"Hey, Ma."

Angela was already gathering the necessary cups and coffee pot, "Hi, sweetheart. The usual?"

"Please." Frost's cellphone rang and he answered it. "And three brownies please," she added. Frost silently mouthed something, indicating he needed to take the call outside and she whispered, "Go. I got this."

"You tell Vince, if he's eating brownies on a Wednesday he won't get his usual Friday treat. If that man dies of a heart attack he'll wish he listened to me."

"Um, they're for me," she lied and Angela lifted a knowing eyebrow, unconvinced.

Angela set down a white cardboard box and two large coffees on the counter at precisely the same time as Jane realized she'd forgotten her wallet.

"Oh, sh – shoot!"

Jane's guilty grin said all Angela needed to know. It wasn't the first time she'd bent the rules for her eldest child. She rolled her eyes, "I'll add it to what you already owe me." She shooed Jane away from the counter, breakfast in hand, "Go on. Get. Before Mr. Stanley comes back."

Jane batted her eyelashes and then leaned in over the counter to peck a cheek, "Thanks, Ma. I love you."

Angela swatted at her with the cloth from her apron, "Yeah, yeah."

oOo

Frost jogged up behind Jane as she waited for the elevator. He waved his cellphone, "Sorry about that." He gratefully accepted one of the cups just as the doors opened. They boarded and he pressed the button for the homicide floor. He gestured with the steaming cup, "And thanks for this."

Jane chuckled as something occurred to her, "You know my mother's crazy, right?"

He smiled, "What did she do now?"

"She bought a million bottles of water and refuses to drink from the tap."

He scoffed, amused, "Why?"

"'Cause she's under the impression there might be… something in the water…" She raised an accusing eyebrow, "Now where might she have heard a silly idea like that?"

Frost's mouth hung open, "You're not serious? But, how -"

"How'd it get back to her? I dunno." Jane couldn't help roll her eyes and make grand sweeping gestures with the box she was carrying, it was all so ridiculous, "'Cause she's head of the East Coast fucking gossip brigade."

Frost's eyebrows were drawn together as he tried to figure something out, and as the elevator halted he said "That wasn't a serious comment, though."

Stepping off and into the corridor she stressed, "I know that, and you know that. But whoever overheard us is obviously missing a few brain cells and doesn't have a life!"

Frost was shaking his head, chuckling, as they entered the bullpen. "I can't believe she really freaked out about the water."

Jane placed her items on her desk and sighed wearily. Suddenly, the horrible dinner episode came to mind, "She means well… most of the time. I just wish she had her own mind sometimes, y'know."

Placing his jacket on the back of his chair, Frost sat down opposite her and popped the lid off his coffee.

Jane plopped down into her chair and waved her arms around, frustrated, "Instead, she believes everything she hears at church, or overhears from a bunch of gossiping, bored… stupid, sex-less, middle-aged -"

The snap of Frost's head and the grin on his face teased But, Jane, you're bored, sex-less, and middle-aged.

Before he opened his mouth to speak she gave him a death glare that warned Don't you fucking dare!

oOo

Chief Staff Nurse, Charlie Winter, sat straight-backed in the hard metal chair of a BPD interview room, her standard green uniform replaced with casual street clothes.

Detective Rizzoli sat on the other side of the table, hands clasped atop a manila case file. "As you're aware, Ms. Winter, we're investigating the death of Harry Mitchell. We have reason to believe he suffered some physical abuse before he died. Would you know anything about that?"

"No," she answered, without hesitation. "I don't know how anyone could harm an elderly person. It's a tough job, what we do. Most people don't realise. But we put up with all the gripes and complaints about standards of care because we do our best." She took a drink from the cup of water that Jane had set down on the table when they'd first sat down. "We're not perfect all the time and budget cuts make things extra difficult."

Jane leaned in, "In what way?"

"Look, I love my job. We all do. There is no greater reward, y'know. But the trainees have it bad; its twelve hour shifts on minimum wage. They don't get the support they need and it's… hard.

"Is Rachel one of the trainees?" She opened the file and double-checked the name. "Rachel Deakin."

Charlie smiled, briefly, "Yes, though she's not one of the better ones."

"Oh?"

With some reluctance, she offered, "She's harmless enough but she's a bit dim. Nice girl, really, not a malicious bone in her body, but…"

"But?" Jane coaxed.

"She does make a lot of mistakes."

Jane looked convinced enough. "So, are you saying… Rachel Deakin was incompetent and that could have lead to someone's death?"

The nurse gave a measured nod. "Yeah."

The detective smiled politely and stood to leave, "Excuse me for a minute."

oOo

Exiting into the corridor and turning to open the next door along, Jane found Vince Korsak watching Charlie Winter through the two-way mirror.

She sidled up beside him and folded her arms. "I know she's implicating Rachel but there's something not right about her."

"She's very charming," added Korsak. "Saying all the right things. Exactly what we want to hear."

Jane murmured in agreement, "Told you… creepy."

He shrugged a shoulder, pointing out the obvious, "That doesn't prove anything."

Jane sniffed, "I still think she did it." Then after a pause, "Remind me to never put my parents in a home."

Korsak snorted just as Frost tapped on the door and stuck his head in. "Someone mailed a memory stick to BPD. Crime lab says it's for our case!"

oOo

All of the large video screens were playing in the Boston Regional Intelligence Center. Frost controlled the feed via the computer, Korsak had sat behind him and Jane had perched on the edge of the one remaining free desk.

Frost had wasted no time checking the contents of the memory stick once it had been brought up. He'd raced downstairs to fetch his colleagues only minutes later. They'd gotten barely inside the BRIC behind him when he'd hit play and announced, "It would appear, ladies and germs, that there was a hidden camera somewhere in the victim's room."

Jane flinched and Korsak screwed up his face at the sight and sound of the young nurse, Rachel Deakin, forcefully slapping an elderly man across the face.

The video stopped, turning the screen to black, and Frost spun in his chair, "We're heading back to Beechgrove then?"

"Seems straightforward to me," Korsak offered. "Go arrest her for assault."

Jane jumped off the desk energetically, grinning at Frost, "This time I'm driving."