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“So, have you solved your case yet?”
Maura tutted at the directness of Jane’s greeting. “I’m well, and how are you?”
Jane grinned and took a drink of her beer. “I’m well, too. So?”
“I don’t really solve cases, Detective. I like to think it’s a more collaborative effort between my team and the investigative agents.
“Wow, if that isn’t fed-speak, I don’t know what is.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“I mean, relax. Talk to me like, I don’t know, like I’m a friend instead of a colleague. It’s Saturday night. Have a beer. Wind down.”
Maura paused at the suggestion. “I do have a bottle of wine I’ve been dying to open.”
“So go on and open it. I’ll wait.” The doctor appeared to weigh the invitation until Jane waved her away. “Shoo. Go.”
“Well… all right.”
With the woman out of the picture, literally, Jane was given a small yet detailed view of the room. Clearly it was an office of some sort, with a bookcase full of titles she didn’t recognize behind the desk where the computer sat. Off to the left appeared to be a row of degrees, identifiable only by the huge red seal that was synonymous with graduation. There were a lot of them. Jane silently whistled. She searched in vain for photos of family, vacation or friends, but found none. It was a stark contrast to the bookshelf she had crammed full of memories.
The blonde returned with a bottle and a glass. “Sorry,” she apologized, “but I wanted to give the wine time to breathe.”
“You’re very smart,” Jane said.
Maura seemed puzzled until she looked over her shoulder. “Oh.” Returning her attention to Jane, she said, “You’re very observant.”
“Part of the job,” she replied with a shrug. “You don’t turn off very much, do you?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
“You never get comfortable. I mean, here I am in my schlubby clothes, my ass parked on a living room couch that saw better days 2 years ago. You’re all,” she gestured to the screen, “put together, sitting in your home office. You are at home, right?”
“I wouldn’t dream of having wine at work.”
The tone was slightly defensive, and Jane realized what her words seemed to imply. “I’m not judging you, Maura. Just…being observant.” She punctuated the comment with a smile.
It seemed to soften the woman somewhat. “Studies have shown productivity goes up if one separates work space from personal space.”
“So no work in the bedroom?”
“Strictly off-limits.”
“But it’s where I get some of my best ‘Eureka’ moments.”
Maura shook her head. “The idea that you do your best work in the bedroom isn’t true.” Jane smirked and Maura brought her hand up to her mouth. “I assure you that sounded much different in my head.”
“That’s okay, I think I like the way it sounded coming out of your mouth.”
Maura took a sip of her wine to cover her embarrassment. “Does this mean you’ve solved my case?”
“Sorry?”
“You asked for the files and you’ve alluded to being proficient in bed. Work. In the bedroom.”
Jane let her off the hook with a wink. “You’re wavering on the COD. I have some ideas about that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Gunshot. #1 type of homicide in the country.”
Maura frowned. “There wasn’t a gunshot wound on the victim.”
“Stabbing. #2.”
“There were no entry-”
“Blunt force trauma to the head. #3.”
“But-”
“Beaten. Poisoned. Blown up. Fire. Overdosed. Strangled,”
Maura burst out laughing. “Stop!”
“Ah, there it is.”
She covered her laughter with the back of her hand. “There it is?”
“Your laugh.”
It gently faded away, leaving a smile behind. “Did you even read the file??”
“Yeah, I gave it a glance. Guy has a heart attack while driving his car. Smashes into a tree. You’ve got the COD as heart failure. Why do you think there’s more to it?”
“Because I examined his heart and saw no reason to see why it would fail. No signs of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, no evidence of the strain an irregular heartbeat would leave on the muscle, no coronary artery disease. Statistically, it is extremely rare for a man of his age to die of heart failure.”
“Rare, but not impossible.”
Maura sighed. “No. Not impossible.”
“And you hate that. You hate not being able to say 100% either way.”
“My job deals in black and white, Detective. You of all people should know that.”
“You know, you can call me ‘Jane’.” When no response was forthcoming, she said, “Or, you know, just keep calling me ‘Detective’. That’s good, too.” She took a pull from her beer. “So what is it about this case that got the Feds called in? Usually they need something more than a questionable COD to butt into things.” She looked at Maura and remembered the woman was also a federal employee. “No offense.”
“None taken. Jane.”
The detective grinned. “Yay, you can say it! We should practice, so the next time you don’t look like you just bit into a lemon.”
Maura acknowledged the jibe with a scowl, but tempered it with a small smile. “To answer your question, the Pennsylvania M.E wanted a second opinion.”
“So you do do consultations. Why’d you say no to me?”
“Because she’s an old friend.”
“How old? Like, is she in her 80’s?”
“What? No. She’s 41.”
“So only 5 years older than me. I think I should qualify as an old friend.”
“I’m… you’re very confusing.”
Jane winked. “I’m just teasing. And in the end, you said ‘yes’ to me anyway. That’s all that matters.”
“I suspect you have no problem getting people to say ‘yes’ to you.”
“Are you flirting with me, Dr. Isles?”
“No! I was simply… you’re teasing me again.”
“It won’t be as much fun once you start catching on.”
“As far as the Pennsylvania case goes…”
Jane nodded. “Right. I can take a closer look at the police reports if you want. You know what you thought of the medical report in my case? I feel the same way about the police report in yours. It’s a little thin on the investigative side.”
“I don’t blame them really,” Maura said. “I’m sure on the surface it looked like a simple car accident. And in fact, that might be all it is. I may know more tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?”
“I’m driving out to Harrisburg to revisit the scene. Perhaps something there will fill in some of the blanks.”
Frowning, Jane said, “You’re driving all the way out to Pennsylvania?”
“It’s only 2 hours,” Maura replied. “It will be a nice Sunday drive.”
“By yourself?”
‘Yes.” Maura sounded confused.
“I don’t like it,” Jane said firmly. “You shouldn’t be going alone. Anything can happen.”
“I have wonderful coverage if my car breaks down,” she assured her. “And I’m fairly confident I won’t get kidnapp-” The word froze in her throat. “That was horribly inappropriate, Jane. I’m sorry.”
Jane shook her head as a way to dismiss the apology. Finishing off her beer in one long drink, she carefully set it to the side and opened another. “It happens. That’s what therapy’s for, right?” Maura still looked stricken and Jane said softly, “Hey. It’s okay. Just try not to say something like, ‘I’ve pinned down the answer’. That one still hits a nerve.” The second beer was even better than the first, and she made short work of half the bottle. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you called me ‘Jane’ again. And you didn’t even make a face.” The comment lightened the mood and Maura flashed an admiring smile. “So you’re going to Skype me when you get back.”
“Pardon?”
“When you get back from Pennsylvania. Oh!” Jane tapped her forehead. “Can you hold off calling until 9? I got a family thing I’m required to attend or my mother will drag me there by my ears.”
A laugh escaped Maura’s lips. “Really?”
“It’s an Italian thing,” Jane shrugged.
Maura shook her head. “I’ll text you when I get back.”
“No. Call me at 9, for two reasons. One, it’ll give me a fabulous excuse to get away from another family dinner that just ends up with my parents fighting and my brothers yelling. And two, if you text me, how will I know it’s not the killer?” She gave an exaggerated shrug to let Maura know she could handle the topic.
Making a face, Maura replied, “How would the killer know I was meant to text you? And why would he bother?”
“Because they’re clearly crazy people. Who knows why they do anything?”
“I… okay. I’ll Skype you at 9. How did I get talked into any of this?”
Jane beamed. “My partner-” she paused at the term, her smile faltering somewhat as she remembered Korsak was no longer her partner. “Korsak said it was the Rizzoli charm.”
“It’s certainly something.”
“Oooh!” Jane said. “Was that sarcasm?”
“No. I’m not very good with sarcasm.” Maura paused. “I’d say it was more… an odd form of flattery.”
The smile returned full force. “You better call tomorrow night. Or I will be unflattered. Good night, Maura.”
“Good night. Jane.”
…..