Chapter Eight: Eclipse
As it turned out, running a funeral home full-time wasn't nearly as daunting of a task as Maura had previously thought.
The amount of paperwork was about the same, which she didn't mind at all. Good record keeping was just in her nature, it seemed. Though, she couldn't say the same for her father, whose office took an inordinate amount of time to reconfigure and organize to her liking.
Maura had made a routine for herself: Coffee, record player, feather duster. She spent most of her mornings balancing the new pages of the business ledger and then sorting through her father's hodgepodge of antique bookends, atlases, and rather odd collection of maritime sextants. Every surface inside of this small yet adventurous sanctuary was littered with some sort of exploration device, be it compass, astrolabe, or quadrant. Everywhere she stepped there was something new to look at, as if it were deposited there and left to collect dust for years. A rock of no particular looking significance held together a row of Jules Verne novels where Maura dusted, and she thought to herself how odd it was for her father to read something that would venture so far into the realm of fiction… Mindlessly, her feather duster knocked over the rock, and down it fell towards the floor with a sharp -crack- against the hardwood. A sliver chipped off from one of its awkward protrusions and Maura kneeled with haste to collect it as if it were made of gold. She had broken it, and for some reason that made her very sad.
Her curiosity rushed to delay her oncoming tears as she turned it over in her hands several times, and soon after that she realized it was no ordinary rock at all. Its unique crystalline pattern was something that she'd only read about. Widmanstätten structures were only known to occur naturally in metals that were not originally from earth, which meant that what Maura held in her hands was a legitimate meteorite. Fascinating… She thought. The lines inside of its sheared end where the piece had broken off were barely visible to the naked eye and would be more distinct if etched with acid, but Maura took to her knees in awe as she held it up in the light from a nearby window. She was floored. Had her father not known this was more than a mere rock? Surely, he must have. The fact that it sat upon a bookshelf for God knows how long was what left her flabbergasted.
She gave a turn with her hips from where she sat upon the floor, wishing to sate the immediate urge to reach for her laptop and to research, but her eyes fell upon a figure standing in the doorway instead. She hadn't expected anyone to be there and jolted with surprise.
A grin eked its way across a somewhat familiar face, and Maura's blood ran cold.
"You shouldn't be back here…"
"I'm sorry—" The man said, "I thought our previous conversation would afford me some latitudes when it comes to not only your business, but mine as well."
"And what business exactly do you have here?" Maura stated firmly as she stood. She would not be so intimidated by a stranger. Not this time.
The man darted forward and crossed the space of the office to plant his hands upon the cleared surface of her father's desk. His fingertips curled there viciously, and Maura thought for a split second that if he were to have claws, they would drag long scars into the wood. He appeared to possess a volatile and unpredictable sort of anger, one which bubbled just beneath the surface and required a great deal of patience and experience to keep at bay.
"You should know well enough by now what it is I'm doing here." He said through the snarl of his teeth.
Maura swallowed, doing her best not to rear her head back in fear. "I've told you before, I have no idea what you're talking about. I think you should leave, now."
"Do not think me the meek one, little girl."
"I don't."
"Then give me what I came here for, and I will be on my way."
"You're going to have to explain—"
The man growled and slammed a fist down onto the desk, and then shot around and forward toward Maura, backing her into a bookcase. She bumped into it with a terrified -squeak- and turned her face away from his. He stood there over her, seething, as if smoke were billowing from his ears. "The people I work for are not as patient as I am, and you are costing me precious time with which I can deliver to them what they need. Your father agreed to supply me with identities in order to settle his debts. I held up my end, now I want what I am owed. I will not end up dead in a ditch somewhere because of you." His yellowish eyes scanned the room as Maura trembled against the books at her back, "Dig deeper. I'll be back to collect." Then he shoved himself away from the bookcase where Maura was pinned, and in the time that it took for her to begin gasping for air… he was gone.
Maura shook from head to toe, dizzied from having held her breath. Her immediate reaction was to panic. Her face tingled as she worked to slow her breathing, and somehow, she made it into her father's rickety chair. It groaned as she leaned forward in it to lay her head upon the desk, and her thoughts began to race. Nothing made sense. Maura felt as if she were missing a very big and possibly integral piece to the puzzle here, and she didn't even know where to begin looking… or what she was even looking for. Something in her gut twisted and coiled then, which inevitably took her over. She was pissed. Why was it that almost every man she interacted with lately —apart from Mr. Drake who apparently possessed a heart of gold— thought that they could impose themselves upon her by way of intimidation or belittlement, just so they could get what they wanted out of her? She was not a goddamn vending machine. If Maura were to do anything in the service of others from now on, she decided that it would be on her time, and her terms. Not theirs.
First, she just had to figure out what sort of "identities" the man had meant. It made her feel sick to think of it, but her father surely hadn't been forging fake papers from the deceased in his care… had he?
No…
That's impossible.
He would never…
Renewed with a sense of urgency, Maura tore across the house towards the basement door and scaled the steps down toward the towers of boxes and shelves. She gave a quick yank of the lightbulb pull chain, illuminating the dank and moth-ball scented tomb of old book and paper file alike. Where to begin? Her mind was a revolving door of happy memories from her childhood, where she hadn't yet possessed a single worry in the world and just as quickly as they came to her, they were each dashed by the ugly truths of her present. Her father was dead —heart weary from years of shame no doubt— and she was left to pick up the pieces. It didn't seem like he had planned to leave things in such a state of disarray, as his death was rather sudden, and Maura had felt (for weeks now) that she was stepping around inside of his daily routines. The first time she had set eyes on her father's desk, for instance, an empty whiskey glass had been left upon it as if he'd left it there just the evening before. Had he not thought to leave little behind in the way of such an unseemly criminal venture? That's when Maura found them—
These files… they're all dog-eared with the letter "H"…
But why?
The stacks of papers she discovered in a box tucked inside of a cabinet were of an ironic and orderly nature, paperclipped together including copies of birth certificates, marriage certificates, social security paperwork, and even tax returns… All things needed to create a fake identity. Underneath them was a snubnosed revolver, as clean as a whistle. Truly, the gun was what frightened her more than anything. Maura flipped further through the pages of each file that were marked with the letter "H" in pen ink, which she thought was too peculiar and cryptic even for her father.
Her heart sank.
Being this familiar with death was something that she thought would never surprise her, having been so close to it for most of her life. It was something completely different being on the opposite end for once, now that she was dealing with the fallout from infiltrating some of her father's deepest and darkest secrets. She knew it was simply the way of things after losing a loved one; finding out things that you would have never guessed about them. Things which they held close and kept secret. Her father had taken an oath, albeit different than Maura's Hippocratic shield to do no harm, but it was still one of a similar magnitude. Forswearing this oath meant that he truly must have been in dire straits. It was just all so very real to her now, and what she was left with was potentially dangerous… if her second interaction with the persistently aggravated man who showed up out of nowhere twice was any indication.
She hung her head, disappointed. "Daddy, what have you done?"
Maura was on her fifth glass of bourbon.
The sun was low on the horizon, twinkling its fading light through the tops of the red oaks out in the distance. With the day over and both Mr. Drake and Ms. Susie Chang long since gone, Maura found herself staring through the bottom of her glass with her head empty of all thought. It had been like that since her discovery in the basement earlier that morning. She figured it was a blessing not to have fallen apart the way she did when she had unearthed her father's gambling addiction, but perhaps her emotional fallout had only been postponed, in a way? Whatever it was that kept her calm and thoughtless and devoid of all emotion entirely, she was thankful for it. Picking up her broken pieces time and time again all on her own was taxing to say the least. Maybe she just didn't have the energy? Maura was content to stare out of the downstairs window towards the courtyard terrace for the rest of the evening, watching all of the wild birds fling nut, berry and seed from the hanging feeders just beyond. The darker brownish cardinals (females, by the look of them) splashed chaotically in the bird bath close by, and the starlings with their shiny and spotted feathers flapped and called out to one another. Blue jays fought for fence space near the array of feeders, and the dozen or so small finches chirped excitedly as they traded places upon the branches hanging overhead. Maura wished to be one of them, and to have only the stress of finding a good place to land every now and again.
The chitter of vibrations from her phone's ringtone snapped her out of her daze, and she reached to answer it without thinking. "Hello?"
"That clone you mentioned a while back, mind sending her my way? This guy, bless his heart… He's sharp as a tack but I can't hardly understand a single thing he says!"
Maura laughed. "Have you asked Dr. Higgins to speak more slowly?"
"I—" Jane sighed on the other end of the phone, "Not exactly. I want him to like me… But good lord his drawl's thicker'n mine! What kind of holler did you say they plucked this man out of?"
"The Baylor College kind. You'll be fine, Jane."
"No, I won't." The detective exasperated. "Anyways… What are you up to?"
"Bird watching." Maura said with a high note, shifting comfortably in the armchair which she sat in.
"Fun…" Jane replied. There was a long pause after that. The sound of Jo Friday barking for Jane's attention made Maura miss the little mop of a dog. "Maura?" Jane's voice came through again, softer now.
"Yes?"
"I miss you."
Maura's chest grew tight. The sudden urge to spill the events of that morning in her office was overwhelming, but she had decided earlier in the day to learn as much as she could before bringing it to Jane. Her best friend was still a police detective, after all. She knew Jane would dig in fast and deep, and Maura simply wasn't ready for what there was to uncover. Not yet.
"I miss you too."
"Are you seeing people? I mean—" Jane sputtered, "Are you, I don't know… Have you made friends? Do you go out and do things?"
Maura blushed. "Not so much, no. The birds keep me company."
"I wish I was there…"
"So come." Maura tried to keep her voice from sounding so hopeful, but she feared that she may have failed. "I'd love for you to come. It would be good to see you." She reiterated.
"Do you want me for a weekend, maybe?"
Always, Jane Rizzoli.
I always want you…
"Sure. That sounds lovely."
"Tell you what," Jane began, "How about I come visit on the weekends, like regularly? We can make a thing of it. I might need to work a little bit, but I can bring Jo Friday and we can spend time—"
"Yes." Maura leaned forward in her chair, eager at the sound of Jane's plans. "Yes, please. I think that is just what I need…"
There was another pause.
"Everything been alright over there?" Jane asked.
Maura rolled her lips into her mouth, careful of what to say next. "Nothing I can't handle."
It wasn't a lie. She wasn't so easily defeated.
"Alright. Well, I'm lookin' forward to it, then."
"Me too."
"Well, it doesn't look like much of a crater to me."
"What are you talking about? We're standing in it."
"We're standing in it?!" Jane squawked, turning an about face on her boot heels. "How goddamn big is it?"
"I told you… Ten acres spans the largest depression here and two smaller craters flank the sides there—" Maura pointed, "And there."
"Wow. And that looks like limestone, a whole wall of it…" Jane gave a point with her own hand.
Maura covered her eyes to squint into the distance, following where Jane indicated. "It is. When the earth was pelted in this spot about sixty-three thousand years ago, it thrust the buried limestone upward, displacing it nearly fifty feet to the surface. The trenches we walked past a little while ago were where people first excavated the meteorite fragments in the 1930's. Some reports claim that they tunneled as deep as a hundred feet down, but a complete layout of the underground site seems to have never been mapped."
"Well, I'll be damned. Who needs Wikipedia when you exist?" Jane teased.
Maura shook her head. "Wikipedia is frequently incorrect. Very little of what they write is rigorously peer-reviewed."
"Still…" Jane shrugged, bouncing her dark hair upon her shoulders. It shone with a warm tint of umber brown as the clouds rolled away for a moment, the lightest Maura had ever seen it before. Jane was heavenly to look at with the fierce and stunning features of her face and her long arms, tanned to perfection in the golden rays of sunlight. The absolute envy of archangels, if archangels could indeed feel envious… Maura thought. The clouds passed over the sun a moment later and the landscape grew dark again. Then thunder rolled like a spring drum far into the distance.
"A good time to turn back, you think?" Maura asked, her expression denoting a slight apprehension on account of the rapidly changing weather.
Jane nodded. "We probably should, yeah. Considering how quick the sky turned on us."
"Quick-ly."
"I hate it when you correct me…" Jane rolled her eyes.
"And I hate it when you forget about Mr. Adverb."
Maura watched as Jane tilted her head upward again to gaze at the thick layer of dark and swollen clouds above them. The underside of her jaw was magnificent, and Maura's stomach fluttered at the thought of how sharp it would feel to lay tucked into her neck. The wind had picked up a bit since they arrived at the meteor crater, and it blew some of Jane's wild and wavy hair into her face.
"C'mon, let's start movin' before it begins to rain." Jane said, taking Maura by the hand to urge her onward.
Maura began to walk beside her. "The forecast called for rain east of here. The path of storms indicated—"
"This is Texas, Maura. The weather does what it wants, and rain is headed this way. I can smell it." Jane glanced over at Maura then as she pulled a skeptical face. "What?" She shrugged, "It's like you smelling a decomposing body at fifty paces. Except when I do it, it's rain."
Maura gave a tilt of her head and hummed a short note. "I daresay rain is much more appealing in that aspect."
Just then, the loud call of a bird nearby in the brush twisted Jane's head around. "Alright… Either I'm crazy or that Cuckoo bird's been following us the whole hike out here."
"Oh, I'm pleased that you know the species." Maura swayed happily forward a bit on her toes to look around.
"I know bird stuff..." Jane swaggered a bit as they continued to walk, a proud smirk falling upon her face.
"Coccyzus americanus, also known as the 'Rain Crow'. They are probably right at home here amongst the scrubby field," Maura went on, "Rooted tumbleweeds are prime real estate for the Cuckoo. Did you know that they're actually brood parasites—" Her rambling was interrupted then by a loud -snap- of thunder which sounded as if it had come from right above them. Maura jumped with a slight yelp, and Jane pulled her toward her side. A moment later, a light rain began to fall.
"Okay, you can tell me all about the Cuckoo parasites later. Let's hurry now?" Jane remarked sarcastically.
"Yes, good idea."
They began to walk more quickly back in the direction they had come from, and the rain steadily increased, drenching them both more and more as they forged ahead towards shelter. The wind had picked up in intensity as well, and they were still a few minutes short of a dead-run from the small tourist shop that doubled as a museum. More thunder ripped above them, and the sky was nearly black now as it flashed intermittently with lightning.
"Almost there- let's run!" Jane shouted over the sound of the pouring rain. The small building they made for appeared up ahead finally, and Jane tugged again at Maura's hand to continue their pace. "I hope we can get inside!"
"Jane—" Maura struggled to see through the rain as it was now screaming sideways with the wind. They reached the covered awning at the back, and Maura pulled her hair from her eyes as Jane tried the doors and windows.
One of them opened, and Jane whooped in victory. "Thank God for small towns and unlocked doors!"
She flipped on a light switch and pulled Maura inside, then immediately went to inspecting her for possible wounds from flying debris. The wind had been strong enough to bat them both about like a cat playing with yarn and from the look on Jane's face, Maura could tell that she was trying to hide her worry.
"I'm fine—" Maura said, pulling a leaf from Jane's hair and then tousling it with her fingers a bit.
Jane huffed with a small laugh and dropped her hands to Maura's shoulders, relieved. Maura rolled her lips into her mouth to hide the need for her to giggle, since they were both soaked from head to toe all the way through their clothes. Her heart had been pounding for so long inside of her chest as they ran that all she wanted to do was laugh, that is until a bright flash from a bolt of lightning surrounded every window and the immediate -slap- of thunder that followed made her lurch forward into Jane's arms.
In an instant, all of the lights went out.
Maura shuddered from the feel of her wet clothes, chilling her down to the bone. It was so dark now; she could barely see her hand in front of her face. All of the terrible nightmares she'd been having lately and all of the burdensome fears that came with them grabbed hold of her suddenly, and Maura realized that she couldn't move. It was as if the room was slowly closing in on her. The terror that welled up inside of her was invisible, yet inescapable.
"Jane…" She said, the warbled tremor of her voice undeniable. Why couldn't she breathe?
"Right here." Jane's hand searched for Maura's cheek, making her jump again when she found it. "Hang on, lemme find—"
"No- please don't move…"
"Maura—"
"Please, I can't…" Maura began to drag one heavy breath in after another, slowly working herself into a fit. "It's so dark."
"Okay, it's alright, I'm right here. Feel—" Jane bumped Maura's other hand and planted it palm down over her heart. "See? It's me. I'm right here." She repeated, "I'm not goin' anywhere."
Maura simply could not catch her breath. It worked hard to get away from her and to vanish from her lungs entirely. Each exhale proved harder to inhale again, and her chest began to cave faster and faster.
"Hey," Jane warned, "Slow down, breathe."
"I can't—" Maura managed to utter in between her hyperventilating as she clutched at Jane's sopping wet shirt, balling it into her fist. How many times had she instructed others to calm themselves by breathing through their nose and pursing their lips? She had a medical degree, for crying out loud. Why was it suddenly no good to her at all?
"Maura—"
It felt too late, as if the very last ounce of Maura's courage had departed from her. That inevitable and slippery slope into sheer panic was close at hand, and she was floundering.
Jane did something then that Maura would have never expected.
She kissed her.
Maura felt a warm set of lips upon her own, and finally she gasped through her nose. A pair of arms looped around her waist and pulled her forward, sending a tiny whimper hurtling directly into Jane's mouth as she parted her lips. She could feel Jane's breath skirt across her cheekbone and delighted momentarily at how she tasted like rain heaven-sent. The few short seconds of it all felt like a lifetime. Maura wasn't sure exactly how long it lasted but noted the subtle -smack- that was left behind whenever Jane eventually pulled away from her.
They stood there, both of them breathing the other in, not so much as a word shared between them. Maura could hear the quiet and quick breaths that fell past Jane's lips, and she wanted so badly to swallow each of them up, one at a time. Her hands skated upward along Jane's slender neck, and she dipped each of her thumbs into the hollows of her cheeks. Feeling her out in the dark felt otherworldly… and dangerous. There was a pleased hum as Jane turned her face toward the pad of one of Maura's thumbs, pressing her lips against it with a small peck as if to say "yes". They were so close, and it was so dark, and no one was around for miles…
They were alone, and this was it.
Maura pulled downward with her thumb against Jane's bottom lip and carefully slipped her tongue inside. A low and satisfied groan bellowed up from the depths between them then, making Maura shiver all the way up from the base of her spine. Jane seemed to be suddenly struck with an imperativeness that possessed her limb from limb. Without warning, she scooped Maura against her front and bowed forward, kissing her again with abandon. When Maura moaned into her mouth this time, it was full-bodied and gradual like that of an orchestral crescendo. Their hands pawed over one another a little less gracefully now; Jane's inside the back of Maura's shirt and Maura's gripping the firm swells of Jane's forearms. Maura wanted to scale her like the broad side of a mountain, or climb her like the tallest tree.
Tiny, whimpered breaths passed between them for another few moments as they kissed until the flickering of light from beyond Maura's eyelids caught her attention and suddenly, she was staring into a pair of brown eyes as they flitted anxiously back and forth between her own. The power had returned, and the roaring of thunder had rolled onward beyond their small shelter. It was over just as quickly as it had begun. The passing storm and their frantic kissing, that is. They unwrapped themselves from one another slowly, catching their breath.
Jane laughed. "Are you alright?"
Maura bubbled into a laugh as well, shaking her head with a smile. "I have no idea."
They stood there dripping with rain in the middle of the small roadside museum, crowing with uncontrollable laughter and with Maura wondering to herself all the while…
Who knew a simple thunderstorm was all it took?
Sleeping in the same bed with Jane Rizzoli wasn't entirely an uncommon occurrence.
They'd shared a bed many times, though they more or less tended to keep to their respective sides when they did. Jane was a fitful sleeper who liked to toss and turn, while Maura could awaken in the very same position in which she fell asleep in. In the past, they found it easier altogether just to stay over sometimes and to travel to work together the next morning. It was simple and required no real thought. Two birds, one stone… Or bed, rather. Maura was usually the first to rise, as she knew Jane was temperamental at best upon waking. The term "grizzly bear" didn't even come close. Most of the time Maura would set upon making a pot of coffee while Jane tore herself from her slumber, grumbling disappointedly about it either being too bright or too cold, or both. You see, Jane just ran a little hot most of the time, and this was why Maura couldn't bear to unwrap herself from the pleasantness of her emanating warmth. Not on this morning. Not after what they did in the pitch black of the evening before.
Jane groaned beside Maura's ear and squeezed her tighter, seemingly unwilling to detach herself. The curtains in the bedroom here were a bit more sheer than the ones she had back in Dallas, and Jane was probably deep into her confused state during her first few moments of waking up. She shifted on her shoulder, tucking her head more closely behind Maura's. Maura waited for a yawn before deciding to carefully spin around in the loop of Jane's arm. She wiggled more comfortably into her and sighed with her contentedness. This warm, blissful little sanctuary she made in the comfort of Jane's body was beyond anything she had ever imagined. Maura felt safe and secluded from the horrors of the world like this and she wished to never leave. How does one obtain the ability to freeze time and space? It was what lied ahead that made her anxious.
Neither of them had so much as brought up the day before.
Once back at the house after the storm, they had shared some dinner and sat out in the courtyard to admire the breeze until they agreed it was time to retire, but when Maura crawled into her bed next to Jane, it felt different, somehow. More so than any time that had come before. Jane merely hugged Maura close beneath the sheets and went straight to sleep, as if nothing had even happened. Maura could barely stand it. She took hours to fall asleep.
The birdsong from beyond the bedroom window had pulled her awake, still tired almost as if she had just shut her eyes. Maybe Jane would want to just stay in bed all day?
I would give anything…
Finally, Jane stretched a bit and made another noise. She was awake.
"Mmmcoffee…"
"Downstairs, but we have to make it. Nobody's here."
"No funerals?" Jane drawled tiredly with her eyes still closed.
"None today."
"Yay…"
Maura chuckled and then shifted to get up and head downstairs, but the arm tucked around her waist gathered her up again almost immediately. Jane mewled quietly in protest, "Hold on… just—" She waited for Maura to lay close to her again, "Just a little while longer. Coffee can wait."
On a list of things Maura would never expect to hear come out of Jane Rizzoli's mouth, that most definitely was at the very top of it.
"Okay."
Much to Maura's joy, they slept until noon and found themselves feeling all the better for it.
Jane eventually suggested that they leave the cushy confines of Maura's bed and head into town to eat lunch. Having skipped both breakfast and coffee, Maura knew better than to suggest literally anything else. It would be a "Yes, Jane" kind of day, that is until they had eaten and the grizzly bear within was sated.
During the time she had spent around the outskirts of Odessa so far, Maura had found that some of the best places to eat were at the smaller, generationally owned cafés and breakfast nooks that one would not normally find within the hustle and bustle of the city. When you walked inside, people tended to smile warmly at you and called you by your first name as if they had known you for years. Your order was remembered from the time you ate there before and wait staff typically had time to sit across from you and ask you about your day, or wished to check in on your family. Maura had become a quick and beloved regular at one café in particular, as she had apparently chosen the one place off the highway that her father took his breakfast, lunch and dinner at for more than fifteen years.
A cowbell knocked back and forth above them as they stepped through the front door and were greeted, and a man with a five o'clock shadow moved to step past them. Maura recognized him immediately.
"Kent?"
Kent Drake wheeled to a stop and lifted his head with a shy grin. "Afternoon, Dr. Isles. I was just on ma way out. The corn fritters here… cannae seem to stay away from them."
Maura's smile dropped from her face when she saw the bruise around his left eye. "Oh, my goodness. What happened?" She gestured towards his face. Jane sidled up next to her and appeared to clasp her hands behind her back politely. "Oh, this is Jane Rizzoli, my best friend. She's a police detective from Dallas."
"Homicide," Jane said, stretching her hand out. "Might spend a few weekends out this way until this one can stand to live without me." She teased, jabbing a thumb in Maura's direction.
"Very kind o' you to look in on a friend, Detective." He replied, wincing slightly as he smiled and shook her hand.
"Get in a fight with a mallet?" Jane asked quickly. Maura wanted to pinch her side and tell her to take it easy, but she figured that if Jane were to make regular appearances in her workplace where Kent also happened to work, then he might as well get the full dose of her now.
Kent seemed a bit apprehensive to talk about the black and blue circle donning the underside of his eye. He pawed idly at the back of his neck and shrugged, "Och, naw. Bolted smack intae a door, if you can believe it."
Maura made an empathetic -tsk- with her teeth. "Should you like to stay home on Monday and nurse your bruise? I can take—"
"That's alright, I'll manage." He shook his head, "It's a small community full o' farmers and repairmen, so a keeker isnae anythin' new to these folks." He cleared his throat then and gave a polite tuck of his chin to exit, "Enjoy your day."
Kent slipped past them and out the door without another word. Truthfully, distinguishing general social awkwardness from deceitfulness was still something that Maura struggled with from time to time. Sarcasm played hand in hand with that most often, though usually it came to her by way of Jane and their borders-on-flirty sort of banter. This was something entirely different. It didn't sit well.
Maura turned to look at Jane as a waitress waved them over. "Did that seem… odd? In any way?"
Jane gave a tilt of her head. "I dunno, I was kinda too busy figuring out what he was saying."
"Oh. Keeker is a Scots word for 'black eye'—"
"I got that much, Maur." Jane huffed a laugh as they sat down across from one another at a table near a window. "But to answer your question… Not really. He just seemed surprised to see you outside of work, I guess. Though, I don't know too many men who walk into doors, if you know what I mean. He might be ashamed of something. Don't let it bother you."
"You mean domestic violence? Actually, the likelihood is just as high in some cases. There have been several studies that involve men as victims of—"
Jane dropped her head into her hands with a long sigh. "I know." She drawled. "It was just a guess, and I'm officially off the clock. Could be tons of reasons why he's got himself a shiner like that. Can we eat breakfast now?"
"It's two in the afternoon, Jane."
A groan preceded Jane's head slipping from her hands and gently meeting the tabletop with a small -thunk-.
"Food please."
