Innocence
Part 17
Dark forces lurk in this story from now on. Child abuse triggers, child molestation triggers. This work is not for the faint of heart. Tears, anger, sex and beatings will be referenced. Child abuse is a part of every society, it should not be, but it is.
I declare no rights or ownership to Rizzoli and Isles. I do, however; claim to be owner of the 3rd largest asteroid crater on the dark side of the moon.
The sun was slanting to the west when the co-pilot emerged from the depths of the ocean with the injured pilot in tow. After Chuck took several deep, replenishing breaths, he began to swim for the now free floating life raft. Its orange, red and yellow façade seemed to glow in the light of the setting sun.
The raft itself had a hard rubber like texture. There was a domed cover that was, as of now, still folded down out of the way; but once unfurled, it would cover half of the emergency craft. In the middle, on the leading edge of the cover was one of two blinking strobe light beacons. The other beacon was attached opposite of the cover onto the inflated oblong tube itself, which surrounded the survivors. Both beacons had become active as soon as the life raft was opened. Along with the beacons, the raft emitted a sonar ping, which any passing craft would recognize as a distress call.
Richard, Charles and Jane had watched the plane sink, both men still within its clutches. When Chuck had popped the surface with the pilot, there was a brief celebration of claps and jubilant whistles.
Not one to twiddle her thumbs when someone is in need, Jane jumped back into the sea and helped him bring the pilot on board the raft.
Once everything was situated, they immediately started CPR on the man. It was touch and go for the first few minutes. After numerous compressions, the pilot jerked and violently expelled salt water onto the floor of the raft; but did not regain full consciousness.
What had looked like a bloody split skull in the cockpit, turned out to be two large cuts and quite a few scrapes from being tossed around and slammed against the instrument panels.
Fortunately for the survivors, this life raft was one of the luxury models and Charles opened a compartment in the side and removed a large red tackle box with a prominent white cross on the top.
Jane reached across and grabbed the first-aid kit. She snapped the latches open and quickly set about cleaning the head wounds on the pilot. Seeing that the pilot was in proper care; Chuck pushed back and watched as this unknown dark haired woman took care of his long time friend and coworker.
"Where did you learn to do that?" Chuck motioned to the careful work Jane was doing, as patched up the pilot's head.
Jane looked from Chuck to the bandages and back again. "I took a first aid course at the community college."
"Are you a medic of some sort?" The co-pilot asked, still curiously interested in this exotic looking woman.
Jane smiled and shook her head slightly, she loved this part. "No, I'm a Boston homicide detective."
Silence dropped over their conversation like a like a wet blanket.
Richard Isles grinned inwardly; he really liked the sometimes cheeky Italian. He hoped things would work out between his daughter and Jane, but first they would have to survive. Night was coming on and that would be the true test of their fortitude.
Also in the kit were emergency rations in the form of energy bars and foil packs of distilled water.
After everything settled down, Charles handed out the water and an energy bar to each of the raft's occupants; while Chuck pulled up the canopy. It was meager protection against the elements, but at least it was something.
Jane being Jane just had to be snarky, "What? No scotch?"
The three men eyed her with a mixture of emotions, but it was Richard who burst out laughing first. After a second the crew joined in; it was a cathartic release of some of the day's horrors.
It went without question that the one and only single wide foil survival wrap would be used on the pilot. Jane feared that wounded man would become dehydrated. They each took turns keeping the unconscious man's lips wet using a clean bandage soaked in distilled water.
With the essentials taken care of, now all they had to do was wait for rescue. It had been a very arduous journey so far and it wasn't long until the strains of the day caught up with the survivors and they all fell asleep.
The sound of salt water lapping against the life raft startled Jane out of her sleep. The incredible cold seemed to drill into her, right down to her bones. Night time on the open sea was dark. The darkness was so complete; Jane couldn't see her hand in front of her face. Even the flickering emergency lights seemed to be suffocated by the all encompassing darkness.
Jane felt around the area close to her until she touched the first-aid kit. She popped open a side compartment and removed a package. The detective sighed as she tore into cellophane and fished out a glow stick by feel. She held both ends and pressed her thumbs against the middle until the vile cracked open. Jane vigorously shook the glow stick to mix together the chemicals that created the luminous effect. Afterwards, she unraveled the plastic rope like material and looped it around her wrist.
Jane then used medic scissors to cut off the used end of the now ragged bandage. After stowing the scissors back into the kit, she used the distilled water to moisten the end she would use to wipe down the pilots dry lips.
As she leaned over the pilot, he came to briefly. Jane quickly quieted him as he tried to sit up. The experienced detective knew she had a few minutes, at most; with the man. Jane picked up the water pouch and carefully held the straw to his mouth so he could close his lips around it; after a few sips, the pilot drifted back to sleep.
Having nothing else to do, she returned to her supine position and studied the stars. Thinking back to today's events, or was it yesterday by now (?), out of everything, the one thing she knew for sure; she needed to get to Maura.
Jane picked up her container of water and took the barest of sips, just enough to wet her tongue.
The supplies were still at a good level, but if they had to spend days out in the open water, with an injured man; they would be depleted very quickly.
A rationing plan was definitely needed.
After she carefully closed up her water, Jane leaned back again and returned her tired eyes to the stars.
….
Maura woke up as the morning sun painted the sky a rainbow of reds. She carefully took stock of her aching body. Painfully she stretched her arms and legs; girding her abdominals, she forced herself to sit up. The movement caused her to hiss as already aching ribs sounded off in agony. The small blond sat on the edge of the bed and slowly relaxed. It was difficult since she could only take shallow breaths instead of deep cleansing ones she was used to.
The accident couldn't have come at a better time. In reality, she really did not care to speak with her mother and with the fall, she could put it off for at least one day more.
In private, Maura built her life at the exclusion of her mother and the Isles family pageantry, but to the world at large, she was the personification of a dutiful daughter. In public and at any benefit, she donned the pompous mask of heiress. The elder Isles had drummed it into her head that she was as close to royalty as any American born woman could be. All of this grandeur and money, however; came with a price that no child should ever have to endure.
When she was a child, the sun rose and set on Constance's head. Then at age ten, everything changed; too many questionable touches and too many 'don't tell your father'.
Then when she turned twelve, Constance forced her to drink wine. She finished glass after glass, just hoping to appease her mother. Maura hoped that Constance would see that she was still her sweet little girl.
The next morning she woke up with a painful head and bloody sheets. When the maid came into her room, she said it was nothing to be ashamed of; all little girls started their menstrual cycle sooner or later.
Maura didn't start her period until a year later.
The blond shook her head to clear away the thoughts as Annabelle knocked on her door.
"Good morning, Ms. Maura; how are you feeling?" Annabelle inquired as she went about laying out a small morning meal on the table in front of the window.
Maura slowly stood and made her way over to the bathroom as she answered, "Belle, I feel like I slipped off the trail and hit large boulders along the way down." Maura replied at face value.
Annabelle had to grin at the heiress' dry sense of humor. She busied herself with the bed as Maura used the facilities.
In the bathroom, Maura took stock of her injured face. The swelling had gone down a good deal, but the eye had indeed bruised very badly. She would carry a black eye for a few days.
She thought of Jane as she washed her hands, would she think it was a bad ass badge of honor. 'Hmmm…no, she would pamper me until it was just a memory.'
Maura put on her robe and rejoined Annabelle.
"Oh Ms. Maura, Mistress Isles has gone out for the day. She requests that you have dinner with her tonight." It wasn't an invitation, Maura knew better and really, so did the entire estate staff.
Annabelle nodded to her and set off back to the kitchen, closing the door quietly behind her. As soon as the door closed, the smile dropped from the cook's face. Last night before Annabelle went to sleep, she prayed for a liberator for Maura. The staff was not dumb, especially Annabelle and her late husband, Ralph who was head gardener until the day he died.
God rest his kind soul. She remembered as he cried when he heard the head housekeeper gossip about the shy girl and the touches her mother forced on her. Ralph was torn between his station, the power behind the Isles' name and what the law would actually believe. They realized they held no sway, but Ralph had made it his mission to find out what interested young Maura. When he discovered it was the world around her; he began to teach her about botany.
Every day the gardener would make sure he asked if Maura wanted to come and help him with identifying some strange plant that he pretended not to know the name of. At night when it was just Annabelle and her husband, she remembered how he would relate how intelligent the young Maura really was.
Ralph was truly heart broken when Mr. Isles came home and the next thing the staff knew, little Maura was being sent away to a boarding school.
Mistress Isles had argued with Mr. Isles, telling him that twelve was too young for Maura to be on her on. In the end, Mr. Isles won and even though it broke Ralph's heart, he knew it was for the best.
Annabelle wiped away a lone tear as she remembered her husband and his kind heart. With a fortifying deep breath, Annabelle went about her day; the thoughts of how she could help Ms. Maura never strayed far from her mind.
…Richard Isles opened his eyes to a beautiful sunrise. The serene sea landscape was interrupted by the sound of a helicopter. Before he could process what was happening, there was a large splash off to the side. By the time the wet suited figure reached the raft everyone, save the pilot; was awake. Jane held out her hand and shook the guardsman wet glove as she came near.
"Hello, I am Lt. Kelly, I am with Her Majesty's Coastguard; we are here to rescue you.