Chapter 8

Detective Jane Rizzoli, described by her colleagues as resilient, brave, imposing, ever loyal to the ones she loved. But I knew better. I saw you, Jane. Didn't I? You could feel me there. Feel me watching you. But you were distracted by the whiskey and good pleasure. It was nice to see you let loose a little, feel something new, someone new. She was beautiful, Jane. I can see why you liked her. I liked her too. Did you love her? Did you really love her or were you just lonely? Did that ring on your finger slip off or did you take it off? Oh, Jane. I see everything. You can't hide your sins forever.


"This heat is killing me," Korsak grumbled, his handkerchief already soaked as he tried, in vain, to wipe the sweat from his forehead. The unseasonably warm fall weather had decided to make an appearance for marathon day. While the runners may have appreciated the break from rain, the officers working the event were far less thrilled to be baking in their polyester uniforms.

Jane downed the last of her water and tossed the empty bottle into a trash can. "Remind me never to sign up for this again. The extra cash is not worth it."

"Wait, you volunteered for this? And you're getting extra pay?" Frost asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Jane and Korsak exchanged a look, then answered in unison, "No."

Frost shook his head, clearly irritated. "Great. So I'm the only one who got roped into this without a choice?"

Jane smirked, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "Look at it this way, Frost—at least we get a front-row seat to watch people willingly torture themselves. That's always fun."

Frost let out a groan, already feeling the sweat soaking through his shirt. "I should've known."

Korsak nodded solemnly. "Rookie mistake. They always find a way to trick someone new into this."

"Rookie? Korsak, I've worked with you two for 5 years now." Frost said, annoyed.

"Just keep in mind," Jane gave him a friendly slap on the back, "if you get through this, you can survive almost anything they throw at you."

"Except maybe a double shift in this heat," Korsak added with a smirk.

Just then, a crackle of static came through Jane's radio. "Detectives, we've got a situation near the starting line," a voice reported.

Jane grabbed the radio, her body immediately tensing. "What kind of situation?"

"There's been an incident—a runner collapsed. Possible heatstroke, but it looks serious. EMS is on the way, but we need crowd control, stat."

Jane's eyes flicked to Korsak and Frost, the heat instantly forgotten. "Looks like our day just got a little more interesting. Let's go."

Without another word, they pushed through the crowd, weaving between spectators and runners. The familiar pulse of adrenaline kicked in as they moved toward the chaos, the marathon and its heat suddenly taking a back seat to the situation unfolding ahead.

As Jane, Korsak, and Frost approached the starting line, they could already see the commotion ahead. A small group of people had gathered around the collapsed runner, some holding water bottles, others fanning him with anything they could find. The runner, a man in his mid-thirties, lay unconscious, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. His skin had taken on a dangerous shade of red, sweat soaking his clothes.

"Make room!" Jane shouted as they reached the scene. She knelt down beside the man, feeling for a pulse. It was weak and irregular.

"Heatstroke for sure," Korsak muttered, wiping his forehead again.

Frost crouched next to them, glancing up at Jane. "Where's EMS?"

Jane clicked her radio. "EMS, what's your ETA?"

"Five minutes out," came the reply.

Jane cursed under her breath. "We don't have five minutes. We need to cool him down now."

She turned to the crowd. "Does anyone have ice or cold water?"

A bystander stepped forward with a half-empty cooler. "We've got this."

"Perfect." Jane grabbed the cooler and dumped its contents—half-melted ice and cold water—onto the man's chest. His body twitched slightly, but his eyes remained closed. She looked up at Frost. "We need to elevate his legs. Help me."

Frost quickly lifted the runner's legs while Jane continued to pour more cold water over him. "Come on, stay with us," she muttered, checking his pulse again. It was still weak, but holding.

"Anybody see him go down?" Jane asked a few bystanders.

A young woman nearby approached. "He was acting strange, confused, like he didn't know where he was or thought someone was chasing him. Then he just collapsed."

"Heatstroke can cause confusion." Korsak said.

Jane turned her attention back to the woman. "Did you see anyone chasing him?"

She nodded.

"Okay, thank you." Jane smiled calmly at her.

"Uh, Jane!" Frost shouted and when she turned, the man on the ground was writhing around, his body jerking violently. His muscles stiffened, and his arms and legs began to thrash uncontrollably.

Jane dropped to her knees beside him. "Shit, he's having a seizure." Foam began to form at the corners of his mouth. Jane felt a surge of panic. The paramedics arrived and piled out of the ambulance, joining Jane at the man's side.

"Hold him steady," one of the paramedics ordered, guiding the man's head carefully to stabilize him. His eyes rolled back. "To the side, here. Easy." The man guided his head to the side so he wouldn't choke. "Can you hold him? Here." The paramedic guided Jane's hand around the back of the man's head.

Frost and Korsak kept the spectators away as more paramedics arrived.

Jane's heart raced, but she kept her hands firm and steady, her focus entirely on preventing further injury. She breathed steadily, calming the frantic nerves in her body.

After what felt like an eternity, the seizure began to subside. The man's body went limp, his breathing shallow but steady. JAne stepped back as the paramedics took the opportunity to load him on the stretcher. Her hands were still shaking from the tension that built up in her body.

Frost, looking pale, finally spoke. "Does that happen often? A seizure after heatstroke?"

Jane shook her head. "It's not typical, but extreme heat can push the body to dangerous limits. Could be combined with an underlying condition."

"Not the experience you want to have at this event. Poor guy." Korsak patted his forehead.

"Yeah, well…" Jane eyed the crowd as they thinned back out, lingering murmurs from them about the scene. "The day has only begun."

The sun had started to dip lower in the sky, and the crowd had thinned out as most of the runners crossed the finish line. Minor injuries from dehydration or twisted ankles had been the extent of their day after the seizure incident—nothing too serious, and Jane was almost starting to feel like they might actually get through this marathon detail without any more major drama.

She'd even enjoyed breaking up a couple of heated arguments in the crowd. Threatening arrest usually shut people up fast, and the idea of a hefty fine for public disorder always worked wonders. Jane flashed a smile at Frost, who was still sweating through his shirt but looked more relaxed than he had earlier. "I told you, Frost, it's easy to play crowd control once you flash the badge and throw out the magic words."

He chuckled. "Yeah, but I wasn't expecting this many people to get so worked up over water bottles and seating."

Korsak, ever the veteran, shrugged. "People get edgy in the heat. Seen it happen every time."

Just as they were about to consider packing up and heading home, Jane's radio crackled again, interrupting the brief sense of calm. The voice was tight, urgent. "Officers, we have an incident on the north side of the park, near the concession stands. Possible assault, one person down. Ambulance en route."

The three of them navigated through the lingering crowd, pushing toward the north side of the park where the concession stands were. As they got closer, the noise level picked up, with a small crowd gathering around a man lying on the ground. Another person stood off to the side, pacing, looking frantic.

Jane pushed through the crowd, her eyes locking onto the man on the ground. He appeared unconscious, a nasty bruise already forming on his jaw. Blood trickled from a split lip. "What happened here?" she demanded.

One of the bystanders spoke up. "There was an argument over a spot in line. It got heated real quick, then punches were thrown. The other guy took off when this one hit the ground."

Frost scanned the crowd. "Did anyone see where the other guy went?"

A few people pointed off toward the edge of the park. "What did he look like?" Jane asked.

"Average, middle aged maybe. He had a black baseball cap on and a dark shirt. Sunglasses. Just looked like a normal guy."

Jane clicked her radio again. "We need officers on the lookout for a possible suspect fleeing north from the concession area. Male, early 40s, medium build, wearing a gray shirt and dark sunglasses."

Korsak was already kneeling next to the unconscious man, checking his pulse. "Jane."

Jane froze for half a second, her stomach twisting. She had seen enough death on the job, but it was never easy when it happened right in front of them, especially from something so preventable. She knelt beside Korsak to confirm, placing her fingers on the man's pulse point. Nothing. His skin was already cooling, and the blood from his head wound had started to pool.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath. "He must've hit his head hard on the pavement when he went down. I'll call Maura."

The crowd around them, which had been murmuring with confusion and curiosity, suddenly grew louder as the word "dead" passed through the group like wildfire. A few people gasped, others started shouting questions, and Jane could feel the tension rising. The onlookers began to press closer, trying to get a better look, some even taking out their phones to record.

"Back up! Everyone step back!" Jane stood, her voice cutting through the noise. "This is a crime scene now."

But the crowd wasn't listening. People were edging in closer, whispering, panic beginning to bubble just under the surface. Jane glanced at Frost, who was already on his radio, calling for backup.

"This is Detective Frost, requesting immediate backup at the north side of the park. We've got a deceased male, and the crowd is getting out of control. We need crowd control units now."

Jane turned to Korsak. "Keep them back. We can't let them get any closer."

Korsak stood and spread his arms, trying to create a buffer between the body and the encroaching crowd. "Step back, folks! Give us some space!"

When backup arrived, the officers swiftly stepped in, creating a more solid barrier between the scene and the crowd. People, though still murmuring and whispering, began to back off without much protest. A few snapped pictures on their phones—Jane noticed it out of the corner of her eye but knew she couldn't stop them all.

"Nothing we can do about the pictures," she muttered to Korsak. "People can't help themselves."

The three of them watched as Maura examined the body. She pressed her gloved hands gently against the man's head, carefully examining the wound. "I'll need a full autopsy to confirm, but from the initial look, it's consistent with blunt force trauma, likely caused by the fall. Any suspects?"

"Yeah, but he ran off before we got here," Jane replied, glancing at the officers still managing the crowd. "We're questioning witnesses now. Hopefully, someone got a better look at him."

As Maura focused on the body, Jane turned her attention back to Frost and Korsak, who were already speaking to a small group of bystanders.

One witness, an older man in a Red Sox cap, gestured animatedly as he spoke to Frost. "I saw the whole thing. It was over something stupid—cutting in line at the food stand, I think. The victim said something, the other guy got in his face, and next thing you know, punches are flying."

"Did you get a good look at the other guy?" Jane asked, stepping in.

The man nodded. "Yeah, he was maybe early forties, dark hair, wearing a gray hoodie. He didn't look like he was here for the marathon, though. More like he was just hanging around, watching people."

Jane turned to Frost who gave her a disappointing look. They weren't getting anything from this crowd. Whoever this guy was made sure he was as bland as a guy could get. No one got a good look at him. No defining characteristics.

Korsak leaned against the side of the patrol car, tapping his notepad with a finger, clearly deep in thought. "Something about this doesn't feel right, Jane," he said, looking up at her. "It's too random. The witnesses don't know enough, and this guy? He's probably long gone by now. If he's even still in the area, he's likely changed clothes or blended into the crowd."

Frost, standing next to him, shared the same uneasy expression. "Yeah, this feels like a wild goose chase. The suspect could be on the other side of town by now, and no one really got a clear look at his face. The description's too vague—dark shirt, medium build? That could be half the people in this city."

Jane sighed, the frustration building.

Frost shrugged. "Look, we can run around the park all day, but I think we're too late. This was just some random fight that got out of control. Nothing more. The guy didn't plan this, and he definitely didn't stick around long enough for us to catch him with the info we've got."

Korsak nodded in agreement. "Exactly. We're chasing ghosts. Even if we start canvassing now, he's probably halfway across Boston by this point. And let's be honest, the witnesses? They didn't see enough. One guy said he saw the fight, but no one got a good look at the perp. They were too focused on the fight itself."

Jane clenched her jaw, hating the sense of helplessness that came with this kind of situation. It had all started as an ordinary argument, something trivial that spiraled into a death. And now, the person responsible was slipping away. "So what, we just write it off? Call it bad luck?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Korsak said carefully, "but this is probably one of those cases where we won't get the guy today. We'll get the autopsy report, pull surveillance footage, and follow up on any tips, but there's a good chance he's long gone."

Jane crossed her arms, her gaze drifting over the now-empty crime scene. "I hate when it plays out like this. One stupid argument, and now someone's dead."

"Yeah, well," Frost said, glancing around, "people make bad decisions, especially when tempers flare."

Maura, having finished up with the body, walked over to join them, her expression calm but somber. "Jane, I've completed my preliminary assessment. The head trauma was severe. He likely didn't stand a chance after hitting the pavement. But I'll need to confirm everything during the autopsy."

Jane nodded, though her frustration was still simmering beneath the surface. "Thanks, Maura. Let me know if anything unusual pops up."

Maura gave a reassuring smile, though Jane could tell she understood the weight of the situation. "Of course."

Korsak straightened up, folding his notepad and tucking it into his jacket. "Let's not waste more time here. We'll follow up on the footage, talk to some of the vendors, see if they remember the guy. But honestly, Jane, this might just be one of those cases where the guy disappears into the crowd."

As the team started to wrap up, Jane couldn't shake the frustration of knowing they might not get the closure they were hoping for. Sometimes, cases didn't wrap up neatly, and this felt like one of those times—a random, senseless tragedy that might not end with anyone behind bars.

She gave one last look at the scene before heading back to the station, her mind already turning to what came next.


Back at the station, the team filed into the locker room to change out of their sweat-soaked uniforms. The silence between them was thick with exhaustion.

When Frost and Korsak emerged from their locker room, back in their civilian clothing, they found Jane at her desk. A steamy cup of coffee next to her and paperwork spread out in front of her.

"Jane, what are you doing?" Korsak asked her tiredly. "Let's go home. That paperwork can wait."

Jane waved him away. "I won't be able to sleep. Might as well get a head start."

"It's late, and you've been at this all day. You could use a break." Frost tried to reason with her this time.

Jane shook her head, giving them a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm fine. Honestly, I'm too wired to sleep right now. All that adrenaline from the marathon, the fight, the crowd... I just need to get the paperwork started. It'll help me wind down."

Korsak crossed his arms, frowning. "We can stick around. It's not like we're in a rush to get home, either. Plus, paperwork is always better with company."

Jane waved him off, standing up straighter. "You two need rest. I know you're both exhausted, and there's no reason for all of us to be dead on our feet tomorrow. I'll be fine here. Besides, it's just paperwork, not an interrogation."

Frost wasn't convinced. "Still, it doesn't sit right leaving you here alone, Jane. We all went through the same day, and it was pretty rough."

"Look, I promise I'll be fine," Jane said with a hint of finality. "You guys deserve a break. I'm wide awake, and I need to get this done while it's still fresh. Go home. Sleep."

Korsak and Frost exchanged reluctant glances, clearly torn. Korsak finally sighed, grabbing his jacket. "All right, but you better text us when you leave and again when you get home. If we don't hear from you, we're coming back to check on you."

Jane rolled her eyes with a smirk. "Yes, Dad. I'll text you both. I promise."

Frost chuckled but still looked uneasy. "Okay, okay. Just don't stay here all night. You need rest too, Jane."

"Will do. Now go before I change my mind and put you both to work."

With that, Korsak and Frost finally headed out, though their steps were slow and hesitant as they made their way to the door. They gave Jane one last look before disappearing into the hallway.

Once they were gone, the station felt eerily quiet. Jane sat down at her desk, pulling the fresh stack of paperwork toward her. The hum of the lamp on her desk filled the silence, and she took a deep breath, letting the stillness settle over her.

As she worked through the paperwork, the clock ticked steadily on, the station empty except for her and a couple of night-shift officers who were quietly going about their business in the background. For the moment, it was peaceful. Just her, her thoughts, and the rhythmic scratch of her pen on paper.


You're all alone, Jane. One by one they'll leave you. One by one they might never come back.


Jane sucked in a breath and her head shot up. The small light from her desk lamp cast soft shadows across the room. She swung her chair around at a shuffling sound behind her, her hand firmly on the gun snapped into her holster. The custodian, and older man, dumped a small trash can into his larger bin. When he looked up, he gave Jane a small smile and wave, completely unaware he'd nearly given her a heart attack.

Jane rubbed her tired eyes, not knowing how long she'd apparently been there. She hadn't meant to doze off, but her body had clearly given in to the exhaustion despite her insistence that she was fine.

Checking her phone, she winced when she saw the time—2:30 a.m. The night had completely slipped away from her. Two missed calls and a text from Maura caught her eye. Jane opened the message:

Hey, I tried calling. Just wanted to check in and see if you're okay. Call me when you're done. I'll be awake.

Jane sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt. Her fingers hovered over the screen, and then she dialed Maura back. The phone barely rang before Maura's voice came through, soft but immediately concerned.

"Jane? Are you all right?"

There was a pause on the other end before Maura's voice softened even more. "You must be exhausted. You've been running on adrenaline all day."

Jane leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah, I didn't realize how beat I was until I woke up just now. Guess I'm not as wide awake as I thought."

"Do you want me to come pick you up?" Maura asked, the concern in her voice clear. "You shouldn't drive if you're that tired."

Jane considered it for a second. Part of her wanted to say no, to insist she could handle it. But truthfully, her body was still dragging, and the last thing she needed was to risk falling asleep at the wheel.

"You sure?" Jane asked, her voice a little softer now.

"Of course," Maura replied, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I'll be there in twenty minutes. Just wait for me."

Jane smiled despite her exhaustion. "Thanks, Maura."

After hanging up, Jane stood and stretched, her body protesting after sitting in the same position for too long. She gathered the paperwork she'd managed to finish and stacked it neatly on her desk.

She grabbed her jacket, shoving her hands in her pockets to make sure she had her important belongings. Keys, wallet, cell phone… Jane paused as she pulled out the photograph of Ava she found at the university. Stuck to the back was Dr. Hughes card. Jane stared at Ava's picture. Every day that went by Jane felt worse about the information that had yet to gather. For some reason, the days seemed like they were flying by with no answers.

She walked over to Korsak's board and spun it around. Her victims profils still neatly arranged on the cork board. She pulled a pin out of the corner and tacked Ava's picture next to the one her family gave them. She sighed, rubbing her eyes as she stared haphazardly. Then, shoving Dr. Hughes' card back in her pocket, she turned to head out.

Before she made it a few steps, her brows furrowed. Her brain firing a few exhausted nerve endings and she turned on her heels back to the board, squinting at the two pictures of Ava. She ripped them off the board and hurried over to her desk to get a better look in her lamp. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Was she too tired to confirm what she was seeing? She looked around the station, for what, she couldn't say. Maybe hoping Frost or Korsak would magically appear so she could tell them what she was looking at.

Both of these girls were not Ava. In the picture the family gave them, Ava had blue eyes. IN the picture Jane found at the university, the girl had green eyes. Jane's heart pounded. This could be Anna? She thought to herself. Were they switching places? Even after high school?

Twenty minutes later, true to her word, Maura arrived at the station. When Jane wasn't waiting near the door as expected, Maura's worry spiked. She hurried inside, her heels clicking against the linoleum floor.

"A little early for work, isn't it?" a voice said behind her.

Startled, Maura jumped, dropping her purse and phone. The contents of her bag scattered across the floor.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Dr. Isles!" The voice came closer, and a tall, handsome man appeared, crouching to help her gather her things.

"I wasn't expecting anyone to be here," Maura said, her heart still racing as she scooped up her belongings, glancing around in mild embarrassment. She fumbled for the last item, but before she could grab it, the man handed her her phone, the screen cracked from one corner to the other.

"I know a guy who can fix that," he said with an easy smile.

Maura sighed, gazing at the cracked screen. "Of course," she muttered, cursing her clumsiness before looking up at him. He was tall—easily over six feet—and built solidly. His hair was neatly trimmed, his beard meticulously groomed, and his smile was disarmingly friendly. "Thank you. And I'm sorry for the scene."

The man chuckled. "No need to apologize. I didn't mean to scare you." He stood, extending his hand. "George Martinez. Security for the precinct now."

Maura shook his hand. "Dr. Maura Isles."

"Oh, I know who you are," George said with a grin, but Maura noticed his tone had a strange familiarity to it.

She raised an eyebrow, unsure what he meant.

"Not in a creepy way," he added quickly. "Just—everyone here talks about you. You're the medical examiner, after all. Pretty hard to miss."

Maura forced a polite smile, not quite sure how to take that. "Well, thank you again, Mr. Martinez. I'm not often here this late."

"Hopefully you're not here to clock in?" George asked, a curious glint in his eye as he leaned casually against the desk, seemingly too interested in her response.

"No, no. I'm just here to pick up my… friend, Jane. She was working late, and I wanted to make sure she got home safely," Maura replied, choosing her words carefully. She wasn't sure how much George knew about her and Jane's relationship, and something about his interest made her feel cautious.

"That's nice of you," George said, his smile widening in a way that made Maura uneasy. "Jane's a tough one, but it's good to know she has someone looking out for her. Especially with the kind of cases she's been handling lately. It's gotta take a toll."

Maura's eyes flicked up at him. "Yes, the job is very demanding."

"That triple homicide she's been working on," George said casually, though his eyes didn't leave Maura's. "Nasty stuff. I overheard a few things. I guess it's hard to avoid being around the precinct all the time."

Maura's smile tightened slightly. "Yes, well, Jane's good at compartmentalizing. But even she needs rest, as do we all."

George chuckled again, though this time it felt a bit too rehearsed. "That's true. Cops never sleep, right? Got to be hard on their families, you know. Always being gone so much. Never really knowing when these cases are going to end. Like that case she had a few months back? Man, I was glued to the TV when they caught that guy."

Maura felt a mild discomfort growing in the pit of her stomach. George seemed too informed, especially for someone new to the precinct. She glanced at the elevator, hoping Jane would appear soon.

As if on cue, the bell dinged and Jane stepped out, her exhaustion clear in her posture. Relief washed over Maura, and she greeted her a bit too eagerly. "Hey, Jane!"

Jane gave her a tired wave, not fully registering Maura's tone. "Hey, Maura. Thank you for coming to pick me up." She leaned in for a hug, but Maura deftly avoided it. Jane noticed George and quickly picked up on the situation.

"Oh, George." Jane approached his desk casually. "I didn't really thank you for helping my mom with her tire the other day. I owe you for that. I really can pay you," Jane said, her voice raspier than usual from fatigue.

Maura's brows furrowed slightly. George helped Angela? She guessed her and Jane hadn't really talked much in the last few days. This case has kept both of them locked in their offices or out on field work.

George waved it off. "No need. Your mom's a good woman. Anyone would've done the same."

Jane nodded in acceptance. "Well, don't work too hard tonight, then." She gave the top of the desk a pat before turning toward Maura.

George smiled, saluting her playfully. "You too. Get her home safe, Dr. Isles."

Maura forced a small smile as she led Jane through the precinct doors, her thoughts still lingering on George's odd behavior. As they got into the car, she glanced at Jane, who looked like she could barely keep her eyes open.

"How do you know George?" Maura asked, starting the car.

Jane yawned, struggling to latch her seatbelt with blurry vision. "Hmm? Oh, George? He helped my mom change her tire last week."

Maura's fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she put the car in drive. There was a strange tug in the back of her mind, an unease she couldn't shake. Before she could dwell on it further, Jane's soft snores filled the car.

As Maura drove into the quiet night, George's overly casual demeanor and strange knowledge of Jane's cases weighed on her. She'd definitely need to keep an eye on him. Something about him didn't sit right.