"A photograph, yellowed and cracked,

holds a moment that refuses to fade."

Jane walked into the bullpen the next morning, coffee in hand and determination etched across her face. She barely had time to take a sip before Frankie flagged her down.

"Morning," Frankie said, his tone subdued. "Not much to go on from Rebecca's body. The round was a 9mm, but other than that, there's no real evidence to go by. No fibers, no prints. Clean."

Jane sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Of course it is. Why would we catch a break now?"

Korsak approached, his coat already slung over his arm. "I was just about to head out to the scene if you want to come along. Maybe there's something we missed the first time around."

Jane nodded, grabbing her own coat from her chair. "Let's do it. Can't hurt to give it another look."

As they headed out to the car, Korsak glanced over at Jane. "How's the kid? Everything go okay with the social worker yesterday?"

Jane smirked slightly. "Beni's good. He's a tough little guy. And yeah, the meeting went fine. Maura's already diving into all the paperwork to make things official."

Korsak grinned. "That's great, Jane. You're really stepping up for that kid."

Jane shrugged, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Feels right, you know? Now let's figure out this case before it drives me crazy."

The drive to the scene where Rebecca's body was found was quiet—the kind of silence that only comes when both people are lost in thought. Korsak pulled the car up to the edge of the taped-off area, where a uniformed officer was standing watch.

Jane stepped out, her boots crunching against the gravel. The scene was a nondescript alley between two abandoned buildings, littered with broken bottles, scraps of paper, and the occasional crushed soda can.

"Looks like a good place to dump a body," Jane muttered, surveying the area.

Korsak nodded, glancing around. "Not much foot traffic, plenty of shadows. You could come and go without anyone noticing."

Jane ducked under the tape and started to walk the perimeter. "You think this was random? Or do you think someone wanted us to find her here?"

Korsak shrugged, his eyes scanning the alley. "Could be either. It's too clean, though. No drag marks, no blood trail. She wasn't killed here. This is just the dump site."

Jane nodded in agreement, crouching down near a stack of old crates. "If that's true, it means someone was careful enough to transport her without leaving evidence. But why risk dumping her somewhere public?"

Korsak pointed toward the ground a few feet away. "Look at that."

Jane followed his gesture, spotting a small, shiny object partially buried in the dirt. She grabbed an evidence bag from her coat pocket and carefully picked it up. It was a single 9mm round.

"9mm," Jane murmured, holding it up to the light. "Could match the round they pulled from her body."

Korsak leaned in for a closer look. "It's something. We'll get it to the crime lab; see if it's similar. Look at that. It doesn't look like a normal round, does it?."

Jane stood and dusted off her hands, her gaze sweeping the alley again. "Might not be connected, but awful convenient for it to be right outside around the corner from the crib scene. Whoever did this is sending a message. We just need to figure out what it is."

Korsak nodded, pulling out his phone to call in the evidence. "Let's hope this round tells us more than the scene did."

Jane looked up at the buildings flanking the alley, her mind racing. "I'll bet someone around here saw something. We should canvass the area again—someone might've heard a car or seen a shadow."

"Worth a shot," Korsak agreed. "Let's split up and see what we can find."

Jane paused mid-step, glancing over her shoulder at Korsak. "Hey, did anyone mention if Rebecca was found with Travis's credit card on her?"

Korsak stopped flipping through his notes, his brow furrowing as he double-checked the report. "Doesn't look like it," he said, scanning the list of personal effects. "She had a small amount of cash, a set of keys, and her phone. No mention of any credit card."

Jane crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as she thought it over. "So, either she never had it, or someone else took it from her before she ended up here."

"Could be," Korsak agreed, his tone thoughtful. "But if she was the one using it, why wouldn't she have it on her?"

"Exactly," Jane muttered, pacing the alley. "Someone's covering their tracks. If she was working with Travis, maybe she knew too much. Or maybe she wasn't working with him at all, and this was just a setup to throw us off."

Korsak nodded, his expression grim. "It's a loose end, for sure. We need to figure out where that card went—and who's using it now."

Jane pulled out her phone and dialed Frost. "Hey, Frost, check the logs again for Travis's credit card. Look for anything used after Rebecca's time of death. If it pops up, we need to know."

"You got it," Frost replied, the sound of typing already in the background.

Jane hung up, tucking her phone back into her pocket. "Alright," she said, looking back at Korsak. "Let's keep canvassing. Maybe someone saw who dropped her here—or better yet, where they went after."

Korsak nodded, flipping his notebook shut. "Let's hope someone around here is paying attention for once."

Jane's eyes scanned the alley once more, her gaze catching on a small, rectangular object mounted on the corner of a nearby building. She squinted, taking a few steps closer to confirm her suspicion.

"Hey, Korsak," she called, pointing up. "Look at that."

Korsak followed her line of sight, spotting the security camera. "Well, would you look at that? Think it's operational?"

Jane pulled out her phone, already dialing Frost. "Only one way to find out."

Frost answered on the second ring. "Hey, what's up?"

"There's a security camera near the alley where Rebecca's body was dumped," Jane said quickly. "Can you track down who owns the building and see if we can get access to the footage?"

"On it," Frost replied, the sound of typing in the background. "If it's a private system, I'll need to go through their management company, but I'll see what I can do."

"Great," Jane said, her eyes still fixed on the camera. "Let me know as soon as you get anything."

"You got it," Frost said before hanging up.

Jane turned back to Korsak. "If that camera caught anything—license plates, faces, a vehicle—we might finally get somewhere."

"Let's hope the footage hasn't been overwritten yet," Korsak said, jotting down a note in his notebook.

Jane nodded, her jaw tightening. "I'll bet whoever dumped Rebecca didn't even think to check for cameras. This might be the break we need."

"Alright," Jane said, glancing at Korsak as they stood near the alley. "Let's split up. You take that side of the block; I'll cover this one. Maybe someone saw something—or better yet, someone—near the alley."

Korsak nodded, adjusting his coat. "If we're lucky, someone'll have a clearer story than the last time we canvassed."

Jane smirked faintly. "We could use a break. Let's hope."

She turned and headed toward a row of businesses, starting with a small diner that looked like it had been there for decades. The bell above the door jingled as she walked in, and an older man behind the counter looked up.

"Morning," Jane said, flashing her badge. "Detective Rizzoli, Boston PD. I'm investigating an incident that happened nearby and was wondering if anyone here saw or heard anything unusual in the last few nights."

The man set down the coffee pot he was holding, his brow furrowing. "Nothing comes to mind, but the night cook might've. He comes in around four."

Jane nodded. "Thanks. I'll check back later." She jotted down a note before heading back out.

Next, she stopped by a laundromat. A bored teenager sat behind the counter, scrolling on his phone.

"Excuse me," Jane said, showing her badge again. "I'm Detective Rizzoli. Did you happen to notice anything strange around here in the past couple of nights? Maybe someone hanging around the alley or driving off in a hurry?"

The teenager barely looked up. "I wasn't here. My mom works the late shift. You could try asking her tonight when she comes in for her next shift."

Jane sighed, giving a quick thanks before stepping back outside. She glanced down the block and saw Korsak emerging from a convenience store, shaking his head slightly.

They met back at the alley a few minutes later. "Anything?" Jane asked.

"Not yet," Korsak admitted. "But a guy at the corner shop said his buddy, who delivers beer to the area, sometimes parks in this alley. He's supposed to come by tomorrow morning. Might've seen something."

As Jane and Korsak regrouped near the alley, Jane let out an exaggerated sigh. "You know," she said, glancing around the quiet street, "it's like everyone who might've actually seen something is conveniently unavailable to talk right now."

Korsak smirked, tucking his notebook into his pocket. "Yeah, it's like they all got the memo to be elsewhere when we came knocking."

Jane shook her head, her tone sarcastic. "The night cook doesn't come in until four; the laundromat kid says it's his mom who works the late shift, and your beer guy isn't showing up until tomorrow morning. What's next? The alley itself saying it's taking the day off?"

Korsak chuckled. "Hey, at least we've got a few leads. Could be worse."

"Yeah," Jane muttered, kicking a stray piece of gravel. "Could be worse. Like if none of these leads actually pan out."

Korsak clapped her on the shoulder. "Patience, Rizzoli. It's a marathon, not a sprint."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "You been talking to Maura? She says that kind of philosophical stuff all the time."

"Maybe she's right," Korsak said with a grin.

Jane smirked, shaking her head. "Let's hit a few more places before we call it. I'm not ready to give up yet."

Jane's phone buzzed in her pocket as she and Korsak were leaving yet another dead-end conversation with a shop owner. She glanced at the screen and saw Frost's name.

"Tell me you've got something good," Jane said as she answered, her voice laced with exasperation.

"Well," Frost began, "good might be a stretch. I've been tracking Travis's credit card like you asked, and here's the thing—it hasn't been used since the last time Rebecca was caught on camera with it."

Jane stopped in her tracks, frowning. "You're telling me Travis's card hasn't been used since we saw her with it?"

"Exactly," Frost confirmed. "If Travis is out there, he's either laying low or he's switched to cash. Either way, the card's gone dark."

Jane sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Great. Another dead end."

"Not necessarily," Frost said. "It confirms Rebecca had the card before she died. If someone else has it now, they're not using it. That tells us whoever took it is being careful—or paranoid."

Jane nodded, her mind racing. "Alright. Keep digging into Rebecca's movements before she ended up in the alley. Maybe someone else was with her that we missed."

"You got it," Frost said before hanging up.

Jane turned to Korsak, shaking her head. "The card's a bust—for now, at least. No activity since Rebecca had it."

Korsak frowned, his brow furrowing in thought. "Makes you wonder. Did Travis know Rebecca was using his card? Or did someone else take it after she died?"

"Good questions," Jane muttered, her frustration mounting. "Questions we don't have answers to yet."

She glanced down the street, her jaw tightening. "Let's wrap up here and head back to the precinct. I want to see what else we can piece together."

Korsak nodded, falling into step beside her. "We'll get there, Jane. One piece at a time."

Jane pushed open the door to the morgue, her steps purposeful as she sought out Maura. The day's leads had left her with more questions than answers, and she was hoping Maura or the crime lab could shed some light.

Maura looked up from her workstation as Jane entered, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to Jane's frazzled energy. "Jane," she greets warmly. "I was just about to send you an update."

Jane leaned against the edge of the counter, crossing her arms. "Please tell me you've got something—anything—that'll help us make sense of this mess."

Maura set down her pen and folded her hands. "I do, actually. Further testing on Derrick's wound confirms that the weapon used was an authentic bayonet from the 1700s—not a replica as we initially speculated."

Jane's brow furrowed. "Wait, a real bayonet? How does someone even get their hands on something like that?"

Maura shrugged gracefully. "It's not impossible. Historical weapons are often bought and sold through collectors or auctions. However, they're not exactly common. It narrows down potential sources."

Jane nodded, her mind already racing with possibilities. "Okay, that's something. What about Rebecca?"

Maura's expression grew more serious. "The round you found at the scene is still being processed by ballistics, but I can tell you this about the bullet that killed Rebecca—Rebecca's killer used a reloaded bullet."

Jane tilted her head, clearly puzzled. "Reloaded? What does that mean?"

Maura smiled slightly, used to Jane's occasional gaps in technical knowledge. "It means the bullet casing was recycled and reassembled with new powder and a projectile. Reloading is often done by firearms enthusiasts to save money or to customize ammunition for specific purposes."

Jane blinked, trying to process the information. "So, someone went to the trouble of reloading their own bullets to kill her? Why not just use regular ammo?"

"It's difficult to say," Maura admitted. "But reloading does require specific equipment and a certain level of expertise. That could give us a lead on the type of person we're dealing with."

Jane sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "An antique bayonet and homemade bullets. This case just keeps getting weirder."

Maura nodded sympathetically. "I agree. It's highly unusual. But unusual details can often lead to breakthroughs if analyzed correctly."

Jane smirked faintly. "Leave it to you to find the silver lining in a murder weapon."

Maura's lips quirked in response. "It's all about perspective."

Jane straightened, her determination rekindled. "Alright, I'll let Frost know about the bayonet and the bullet reloading. Maybe it'll spark something on his end. Thanks, Maura."

As Jane turned to leave, Maura called her back. "Jane, before you go, I wanted to mention something about Beni."

Jane paused; her curiosity piqued. "What's up?"

Maura pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper from her desk drawer and handed it to Jane. "I made a short list of three daycares I think would be suitable for him. They're all well-reviewed and offer a balance of structure and play."

As Jane took the list of daycares from Maura's hand, she glanced over it with a faint smile. "Thanks for putting this together. You're really on top of things."

Maura nodded, her tone soft but focused. "It's important we find the right place for him. Let me know when you'd like me to set up the tours."

Jane folded the paper and slipped it into her pocket. "I will. But, Maura… I've been thinking about this a lot."

Maura tilted her head, her expression attentive. "What's on your mind?"

Jane hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I want Beni to have a normal childhood, you know? No pressure, no complex curriculums. He's been through enough already."

"I understand your concerns, Jane," Maura began, her tone measured. "But I don't think a well-structured curriculum automatically means pressure. A good daycare can offer both a nurturing environment and a foundation for learning."

Jane tilted her head, considering Maura's point. "Yeah, but if it's too much too soon, it might make him feel like he can't keep up. He's already been through a lot. The last thing I want is for him to feel out of place."

Maura stepped closer, her hazel eyes intent. "I completely understand, but I don't think we should underestimate his resilience—or his potential. The right program can help him catch up in ways that feel natural and enjoyable. It doesn't have to be one extreme or the other."

Jane sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "I get that, Maura. I just don't want him walking into a room full of kids who are ahead of him and feeling like he's already losing the race."

Maura's expression softened. "Jane, I think you're forgetting something important. Children develop at their own pace. A good daycare will recognize that and support him where he is. And with you and me in his corner, he won't feel like he's alone in anything."

Jane unfolded the paper and glanced at the names again. "Alright, we'll check them out."

Maura chuckled softly. "We'll make sure it's a place we both feel comfortable with."

Jane nodded, slipping the list back into her pocket. "Okay. Let's set up the tours."