A/N - Since I'm not at work and watching the Kentucky Derby, I have some time to give all of you readers some more chapters that are freshly edited for your reading pleasure. Tomorrow, I'm going to be...sleeping in late and I'm not sure if I'll put anything up. It all depends on how late I stay up to party after the Derby is finished.
Tuesday, 6:15 P.M.
Maura, upon hearing her plan to go undercover, was remarkably more excited than Jane had thought possible given the fact that they were going to be throwing themselves in danger. If the killer was there, things could go south pretty quickly, but Maura was undeterred by her warnings. While they were at her place changing into something more acceptable, Maura told her that the club was an elite playground for the rich. When Jane mentioned that it was like Pleasure Island from "Pinocchio", Maura gave a confused look, reasserting how deprived her childhood must have been. People apparently go there to watch female dancers parade endlessly around for their amusement and, if the "finer things" were lucky, a request for a closer examination in private. The detective in her had wanted to go further with asking whether the elite club was a just a front for an elite prostitution ring but, before she even had a chance to think it, Maura replied earnestly that it wasn't like that. The Rosefern was nothing more than a dance club for those who couldn't bare the idea of co-mingling with people outside their social circles. With some clever persuading, the brunette got her girlfriend to expand on the details further:
"The club is really just a club, Jane. They serve Bollinger vintage instead of mixing Cosmopolitans but, it in the end; it is still just a dance club. The only difference is that because of the…importance of the clientele, they are allowed to touch the dancers because, well, they can." Maura slung her hair back, shimmying into her pencil skirt. "I used to go there a lot when I was younger. All of the prep school girls were there and I was in a rebellious period; but when I learned that women were being degraded in that way, I immediately found something else to occupy my time after the sun went down."
Maura immediately clammed up after telling her this, leaving Jane to dress in silence. She remained silent for the entire drive in her Aston until they arrived in the line to the valet.
Turning her head toward the anxious brunette who was squirming in the borrowed dress like a dog in a sweater, Maura turned the radio down, issuing a sigh of relief from Jane. "Thank. You. For turning that off. I felt like I was listening to the official NPR soundtrack, complete with endless hours of easy listening hits such as 'Rain Blowing in Mountains' or 'Crisp Sunrise with Breeze.'"
"How can you say that?" Maura asked bewilderedly. "It's bossa nova, a popular Brazilian fusion of jazz and samba. Maybe if you listened a little harder, you would have noticed the difference."
A heavy sigh pounded from Jane's lips as she slowly turned from the bright lights of the gentrified downtown Boston streets. "Sorry."
"You should think about trademarking that word since you use it so often." Maura muttered exhaustively, moving the Aston up in the line. "What's the game-plan for tonight? You explained it to me earlier but you didn't go into detail. We get into the club and then…"
"We stick together as I get a feel for the place and then I go and question the bartenders, see if they know anything about Alina or Russian dancers in general. As much I would prefer for you to stick by me, I know how much you like to feel busy so you can try to get some of the dancers to talk to you on an individual basis. You'll have a better shot at chatting them up than I would since you belong to this crowd more than I do." Jane said authoritatively, before grabbing Maura's clutch and taking out the blonde's smartphone. "Before we go in there though, I'm setting your phone up to ring out an alarm every fifteen minutes. That way if we get separated from each other, Maura, we can find each other. I know, I know, it's not the best plan but it's the best that I can do without backup from headquarters. If everything goes fubar on us, call Frost or Korsak. They'll be expecting either of us to call regardless if the shit hits the fan."
The valet with the ambiguous face knocked briskly on Maura's window. As Maura's body remained motionless, Jane hoped that her girlfriend hadn't been expecting the same kind of affair as the time they had trolled for a lesbian killer at a lezzie bar last year. That operation had been sanctioned by the department. Tonight, they were essentially going undercover with no immediate backup or prior approval on the part of the captain. Korsak had checked off on it at the Opera House, but she knew his ass was on the line if, god forbid, the killer decided to show up at Alina's hangout. We've got to get this right. No exceptions. Maura's with me and Korsak approved on this scrambled together last minute op…if anything happens, it'll be on me. The idea of losing her shield wasn't as distressing as losing Maura, she meant everything to her.
Another knock of the valet's knuckles sounded in the inside of the car yet Maura remained still, making no movement to lower the window to talk with the young man. Looking over, Jane wondered what was going on in her mind. God, why did I let her do this? She's only did one undercover op before and that involved her teasing lesbians with her amply displayed assets. Maura can't handle this, she's going to crack.
But just as this thought crossed her mind, Maura lowered the window and gave the man the signal for a minute before raising the tinted window. "Are you scared?"
"No," she answered back with little hesitation. "I've done a lot more with far less. If you don't want to do this, we can go in together and you wait in the car-"
"Absolutely not, Jane. I'm not a dog. If I sit in the car and wait for you, I'll just go crazy. And, not to mention, we have to stay together because you are an outsider to these people. Just because I enjoy your…frankness, doesn't mean the feeling will be shared by others." She extended her hand toward Jane's with a worried attempt at a smile. "I just want you to not get hurt. I could care less about plans and fubar. Your safety is my main priority and if that means I have to put myself in danger, then so be it."
"You're such a romantic."
"I know," the blonde medical examiner smiled before opening the door, the sticky air of summer filling the air-conditioned car, "but so are you, when you want to be. It's show-time. By the way, what's fubar?"
Jane barely restrained herself from laughing at the confused blonde as they both walked toward the understated entrance of the club. Leave it to Maura to not know what fubar means.
Despite the large line of European pedigreed sports cars were ushered into the underground parking garage with big, burly men checking the ownership of each individual car as it swooped inside, Jane couldn't see a similar line around the entrance. Well-dressed men and women exited from their cars like American royalty, threw their keys in the general direction of the valet, and walked right in. No one asked whether they belonged, but Jane could understand why there was no real need to. In a world where people have no problem shelling out 50k for monogrammed cashmere towels from Dubai, it wasn't that hard to spot those that didn't have the financial means to act similarly.
A couple gave Jane an odd look of revulsion before turning toward the blonde and relaxing slightly. The woman hanging off of her idiotic looking boyfriend delivered a miniscule look of acceptance, sauntering into the club's entrance. Tapping on Maura's shoulder, Jane got her attention. "What was that about? They just looked at me like I took their one chance to get adopted by Daddy Warbucks."
"Like 'Annie'? I used to love that movie when I was a child. Do you think it's because I subconsciously related to the struggles of the character?" Maura whispered back excitedly. The brunette's playful nudge returned the blonde's focus back to the question. "That's Jenna Watts and her latest model plaything. You know, of the Watts Family? Their great-great-grandfather revolutionized the infrastructure of Boston with new advances in cheaper ways to move energy across the city. Back when I was a kid, my mom would tell me about how they were nouveau riche. They've been mostly accepted by most of the upper elite but they still have a bit of attitude."
"Oh, well in that case, it must suck to be them," Jane sarcastically bantered. As they reached the lavish interior of the club, she immediately stopped to take the space in for future reference.
Minimalism seemed to be the chosen theme for the large space as Jane noted the lack of waste or unnecessary luxuries. Inconspicuous opaque glass walls that nearly reached the ceiling obscured the various areas of the club to those walking in from the front entrance which frustrated Jane because it reasserted to her already anxious brain the potential risks of going undercover with no backup or prior knowledge of the club's layout. Muted pink and red shades of fluorescent lighting seemed to flood the club which seemed to be homage to its namesake. For people who were used to constant help, the lack of staff to assist the rich and famous in getting their drinks was disconcerting to the detective. Despite Maura's calling it a dance club, hardly anyone from her obscured vision was dancing because of the lack of music.
Jane's eyes continued to travel around the expanse of the club as she gave her jacket to the doorman who seemed slightly amazed to see a new face. Her girlfriend's sudden grasp of her hand took Jane away before she could respond and, with several experienced turns throughout the confusing layout, they ended up at an empty table near the bar. Everyone seemed to be waiting here for something to happen but what that was, Jane could only guess.
As they sat down, Maura smiled at some of the occupants of the tables and was given several small smiles in return. "Everyone waits here until the walls fall, revealing the stage for the dancers. The bartender checks I.D., just like any other club but since most of these teens have been living on daddy's yacht for most of their life, they can be quite…manipulative. Though they might have cracked down on that since the last time I was here."
"How many people are here, exactly?"
"I don't know. They don't exactly publish records of this sort of thing in the Boston Daily, Jane," she stated with a hint of sarcasm, moving her hand out to caress Jane's with her own. "If you don't want to separate, I can stay."
She shook her head as the eyes of the other patrons continued to appraise her connection to Maura. "No, I'm fine. The last thing we need to do is deviate from the plan, especially now. I'll be fine, really."
The feeling of Maura's hand on her own with everyone watching was the last thing on her mind. Nothing else mattered but getting out of here with no incidents, Jane chanted subconsciously. Despite the attention she was receiving, the brunette moved her hand on top of Maura's to assure her that she was ready to go. "I'm going to head over to get a drink while talking the bartender up about the victim. If anything happens, I'll call."
With a reassuring smile, the detective left her one and only lifeline alone to investigate the dancers who would be revealing themselves shortly. Now, without Maura to be her shield, she was left alone to be critiqued openly by the nouveau riche and old money types wandering from the bar to their tables excitedly. Only she was unsure of the environment, nerves racking her senses, dulling her well-honed skills gained in the Boston Police Department. Being an undercover cop while on the lookout for a killer was not the time to be off her game.
As Jane looked back and saw Maura giving her two subtle thumbs up in encouragement, resolve and confidence recharged her focus in the job at hand. The catty voices subsided and her mind filled with the steady staccato beat of her heeled feet upon the floor, exhaustion giving way to adrenaline.
"Hey," Jane said flirtatiously, her mind working overtime to get a cover-story together. "Do you have something stiff back there? My girlfriend is getting on my last nerves. She's hardly paying any attention to me like I don't even matter. Can you believe that? I mean, come on, if I can't keep someone's attention, I don't know who can."
The bartender looked Jane up and down with a disbelieving attitude. "Who's your girlfriend?"
"The blonde over in the corner looking like the cat that ate the canary," she pointed in the general direction of Maura's table, knowing that she would be there with a goofy smile on her face. "You can't miss her. I didn't even want to come to this stupid place, anyway. There's way too much money floating around, in my opinion."
The bartender nodded approvingly before going behind the counter and preparing a Grand Marnier on the rocks, leaving Jane with her thoughts for a brief second. It was a good catch noticing that most of the employees for this club aren't connected to the same level of affluence as those enjoying themselves. She wasn't sure about using that angle but her lack of preparation left her without much options. Tempted to look back to make sure Maura was alright, the brunette decided against it as the bartender slid the drink over to her after dealing with another customer. A grateful smile spread across her face before the orange flavored cognac lightly touched her lips. He came back and she set the glass back down much harder than she intended, the clash sound of glass on glass harsh on her ears.
"Sorry, I'm just so frustrated with her right now." Jane frowned, barely noticing the perimeter glass walls falling down slowly to reveal a smaller glass section of the club. "She said I could meet some dancer here tonight but I don't see her. Alina something or other…she's supposedly Russian, I think."
"Yeah, Alina. That girl is wacky but really good at dancing. Everyone loves her." His hand travelled through his rough brown locks before dropping his eyes back to Jane's. "But I haven't seen her in a while. She normally drops by at least every other day."
"When did you last see her?"
The bartender looked shocked by the woman's sudden hardness in tone. "Jeez, what are you a cop? I don't know…I remember seeing her on Saturday night, drinking vodka as usual and talking about some annoying dance director with a stick up his ass. We don't open on Sundays so I guess she hasn't been around since Monday," he said, cleaning Jane's finished glass.
Jane looked behind and saw people beginning to move toward the glass hidden stage. "Did she talk to anyone when you last saw her? My girlfriend is always talking about the woman like she's the best thing since sliced bread and I want to make sure she isn't cheating on me."
"Yeah…she was talking to some guy with the craziest eyes I've ever seen. It was like he was staring right through me or something," he said with an obvious shudder of fear. "People that come through here are used to getting their way but they aren't all bad. That guy with Alina, though…he was different. It was like he had nothing to lose."
But before she had a chance to question him further, a loud scream came from near the revealed stage and soon came the stampede as the dignified men and women ran out of the club. Whatever was going on, it had everyone running scared. Her heart told her to go find Maura in the rush of the crowd but common sense demanded she wait until the crowd dissipated slightly. The last thing Maura would want is me getting trampled. Nothing is going to go wrong. I know Maura will be alright.
Minutes passed before Jane could finally brave the current of scared people. Digging out her badge, Jane brandished it in front of everyone she passed. Her eyes immediately spotted Maura on the stage, near two women who had apparently been injured in the stampede. "Maura, you okay?"
The blonde looked up with eyes full of tears, covered in blood. "The killer was here, Jane. Look up at the ceiling…the messages and their hearts are gone. But two victims now…why would a person kill two innocent people and put them on display like this?"
"I don't know, honey," she replied soothingly, turning to call Frost and Korsak. "I just don't know."