Facts, Just the Facts

A Rizzoli & Isles (T/V) Story

by Enginerd


Synopsis:  Boston’s finest finally gets a new Homicide Lieutenant.  The replacement for the transferred Joe Grant is a no-nonsense, female detective from New York, who dresses in designer suits, drives an expensive car, and is a Yankees fan.  Jane is convinced there is something amiss with the private woman . . . and not just because she happens to compliment the Medical Examiner all the time or question Jane’s abilities - starting her very first day on the job.

Enginerd (Feb 2011)

Thanks to Trusty for proofing.

Chapter 1 – New Brass

“What’s going on?”  Jane asked her partner, seeing a few high-ranking police and city officials in the Captain’s office as she came in to work.

“The computer system is down again!” Barry Frost complained as he once again tried to call up his email.  “How am I supposed to check the prints without AFIS?”

“No, I mean why are the illustrious brass gracing us with their presence?” Jane said, catching a glimpse of the Mayor and the Chief of police.

“Seems our new Lieutenant finally arrived,” Frost said with a shrug, trying to reboot.  “You would think the IT department would let us know what they are doing and when it will be back!” he hissed with disgust.  “You’d think they’d know a little communication goes a long way.  But of course they don’t.”

“Why all the VIPs for a new Lieutenant?” Jane said absently with a face of disapproval as she sat at her desk and logged on to a frozen boot screen.  “Crap.” 

Frost just shrugged again, expecting they would learn why at some point.  The brass did what the brass did, he considered, wondering if their computers were on the fritz.

After Lieutenant Grant left for DC, the spot had been gapped several months as the painfully slow bureaucracy posted, screened, and interviewed applicants.  Of course, there was high hope that someone within the department, specifically Vince Korsak, her former partner, would actually get the job.  Jane even placed money on him in the office pool.  Their Medical Examiner, Maura Isles, did not bet but publicly offered a vote of confidence, which Jane believed was because she hadn’t reviewed all the applicants personally and didn’t want to speculate on the selection.  Maura hated to guess, Jane considered, frowning at how disappointed they were when they found out Vince didn’t get the position.

After learning Korsak didn’t get the job, Jane, Frost and, of course, Maura, took him out to their bar to try and cheer him up last night.  Though Korsak tried to shrug it off as unnecessary, Jane knew that while not crushed the older man was very disappointed and convinced him to go.  Well, with Maura’s help.

“Those idiots don’t know shit from Shinola about picking the right man for the job!” Jane loudly declared once again, after her fourth beer.

“Jane,” Maura scolded her, again, with a displeased purse of her lips, glancing around the bar uncomfortably. 

“What?!? Korsak is the best!” Jane said, prompting a small, pleased smile from her former partner.  “To Korsak!  The best man who should have gotten the job!” Jane raised her beer, which was clinked by Maura’s wine glass and Frost’s beer.  Frost enthusiastically chimed in “Here, here,” earning a surprised look from the older man.  

If he didn’t have dark skin, Frost’s slight blush of embarrassment might have been more noticeable.  “What?  I trust Jane’s judgment,” he explained awkwardly with a shrug.

“Do you know who got the job?” Maura asked, sipping her mediocre white wine.

“Not yet,” Vince said, sipping his beer.  “Seems there were two candidates that were neck-in-neck.  Cavanaugh from Vice and . . . this should interest you Jane, a rich, out-of-towner . . . a woman from New York,” he offered with a sparkle in his eyes.

“A rich woman . . . from New York.” Jane repeated flatly.  “Great!  Just what we need, another political, ladder-climbing, snob,” Jane bemoaned, getting a frown from Maura.

“Do you truly believe the woman is anything other than a hard-working, dedicated police officer just because she has more money and is higher ranking than you?”  Maura challenged with clear annoyance.

Frost and Vince looked at each other with alarm. 

“Well, I’ve got to go,” Frost said awkwardly, looking at his watch and getting a quick nod of agreement from Korsak who chimed in, “Me too, gotta get my beauty sleep.”

Jane frowned as she watched her new and old partners flee.  Though, she was begrudgingly impressed with how quickly Korsak could disappear.  Coward.

“Maura, you have to admit it is not normal for someone with money to want to do this,” Jane explained reasonably.

“So you are saying I’m not normal,” Maura looked at her pointedly.

“Maura, stop putting words in my mouth.  I didn’t mean that at all.  Unless you consider being exceptional abnormal, then you are extremely abnormal,” Jane said with a warm smile. 

Maura’s head tilted as she looked at Jane.  “You just called me abnormal,” she said with a frown.

“In a good way!” Jane quickly backpedaled as Maura sighed and stood up.  “Maura….” Jane said, trying to make things better, not understanding why Maura was so upset.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Jane,” Maura interjected firmly as she gripped her bag and left the table.

“Maura,” Jane whined to her best friend who kept walking.  Jane dropped her head to the table with a thunk.  Why did she always seem to say the wrong thing to Maura lately?  They had hit it off swimmingly at first and now, it seemed that Maura was not satisfied with anything she said.  Why was Maura so sensitive around her these days??

Jane frowned.  “Frost, I gotta go find Maura,” she said, quickly standing up and left on a mission to make things right.  However the hell she could . . . .

“But Jane….” Frost said with concern as the Captain emerged from his office with the brass and the new lieutenant in tow.


“So?  How can I get you to forgive me?” Jane asked, having finally caught up to Maura at a park, after they had both been notified of a dead body.  It was like Maura was avoiding her, which made her more worried.  She watched as Maura hunched over a male corpse, who was entangled in his bicycle just off the bicycle trail.  “I’m not sure what I did, but I know didn’t mean it,” Jane added with honest frustration.

Maura slowly stood and looked at Jane.  “Then how could you possibly know you didn’t mean it if you don’t know what you did?”  She was genuinely curious, having almost forgotten why she was so irritated with Jane last night. 

Jane’s mouth dropped as she searched for a response, looking at an expectant Maura.  “Because?” she tried with a wince, causing Maura to roll her eyes.  

A car rolled up very close to the crime scene – a very nice and expensive, green metallic Aston Martin, Jane noted with a frown.  

“Frankie!” She called out to her brother, who stood by the yellow crime scene tape to keep onlookers away.  Getting his attention, she pointed to the car.  “Tell them to keep the hell away from the….” the words died on her lips as the brunette emerged from the car and she caught the gold badge at her belt.

“Fuck,” Jane whispered under her breath. 

“Yeeesss?” Frankie said melodically with a smirk as he tended to other curious civilians. 

Jane shook her head and looked up, squinting at the crowd forming on the bridge overhead.  She hated gawkers.

Maura glanced over the new arrival with appreciation.  The woman was in her mid-forties, in a perfectly tailored brown Armani suit with a lighter brown, silk shirt that was unbuttoned at the top two buttons.  The gold badge on her Ralph Lauren belt appeared a perfect accent, not just a symbol of her position.  Her brown hair was about her shoulders in an attractive cut that flowed nicely as she turned her head to survey the scene.  Her eyes were hidden by black designer sunglasses, that gave her an air of mystery, or perhaps … danger?   She didn’t need the gun on the other side of the badge to promote that image.  Her gait was purposeful, her carriage, confident.  The whole package was strong yet refined – a perfect fit for the job, Maura concluded with a smile.  She could see Jane in something like that – if she would ever try to dress more sophisticatedly.  Of course, she would have wanted to accentuate the suit with a scarf and higher heeled shoes, and maybe a gold brooch to balance the badge, but she knew that would be impractical and too fancy for a homicide detective – especially Jane.

Jane unhappily noted Maura’s close and appreciative inspection of the Lieutenant before turning her gaze to the formidable woman.  She observed what Maura had observed, without the medical examiner’s specific appreciation of the designers or cost.  The Lieutenant dressed to impress and radiated confidence.  The competitive part of Jane noted with some satisfaction that she was a few inches taller than her new boss, who pulled off her sunglasses and tucked them in her blazer breast pocket.

“Lieutenant, I’m . . . ,“ Jane said, trying to be polite, knowing she had not been around for the formal introductions with her division.

“Rizzoli,” she said flatly, her green eyes looking into Jane’s for a long moment, making Jane uncomfortable.  “When the Captain or I call together a division meeting, I expect you to understand that means you too,” she said pointedly, her gaze penetrating.

Maura tensed, wondering what Jane was thinking to miss an important meeting.

Jane struggled with the urge to defend her absence. She almost blamed the IT department for the missed message, but couldn’t do it; She already knew the new lieutenant was there and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she'd be meeting her troops.  Jane was not having a good day.  Or good week, she amended, briefly glancing uncomfortably at Maura.

“Yes Ma’am,” Jane offered begrudgingly, making Maura sigh with relief that Jane wasn't making things worse with her new boss.  Jane had a special ability of saying something thoughtless or stupid without even realizing it.  Maura pondered why that unfortunate trait which had been rare when they first met, seemed to be getting worse lately.

The Lieutenant sighed.  “Too bad you weren’t there, Rizzoli.  I brought in some really good donuts,” she said, making Maura smile happily.  Jane’s new boss had a sense of humor and was obviously past Jane’s initial misstep.

Jane frowned slightly at the unexpected quip and with Maura’s reaction to it.  Her accent was definitely not of the New York elite, she noted.  But it was from New York; a slight Bronx accent came through which did not fit with her expensive clothes and car - unless she was in the mafia, had won the lottery, or married wealthy, she considered and glanced down to the Lieutenant’s left hand.  Jane saw no jewelry save one gold Rolex that must have cost more than her own car.  Jesus!

“Doctor Isles, what have we got?”  The Lieutenant crouched down by the body and looked up at Maura expectantly.

Maura smiled, glad the new Lieutenant was not like Frost.  But then she suspected the woman would not have gotten to the rank of Lieutenant had she been squeamish.  She gracefully knelt back down.  Rather closely to the Lieutenant, Jane noted.

“The bicyclist is male, approximately 30 years old, with blunt trauma to his head and several abrasions on his arms and legs,” she said, pointing to the areas of trauma.

“Cause of death?”

“I won’t know that until I conduct my autopsy.”

“A guess?” the Lieutenant asked curiously.

Jane had to smirk, knowing the new lieutenant would likely be frustrated with Maura’s aversion to speculation.

“I . . . don’t guess,” Maura said uncomfortably, wondering why every homicide detective seemed determined to work with unsubstantiated and incomplete information.

Jane’s smirk turned to a frown when the Lieutenant nodded in acceptance and stood, holding out a hand to assist Maura, who automatically took it with a pleased smile. 

Maura didn’t need help, Jane considered with a furrowed brow. 

“I look forward to reading your report, Doctor.  I’ve been told you are quite thorough,” the Lieutenant said with a small smile, which relieved the medical examiner and confused Jane who would have certainly badgered Maura longer for a guess.

“I try to be,” Maura said.

“Nice dress,” the Lieutenant said.  “Chanel?”

“Yes,” Maura said with surprise, beaming with pleasure. 

“Careful with the mud,” the new lieutenant said with a wince, glancing around the crime scene. 

“Hazards of the job, I’m afraid.  But I won’t let them dictate my wardrobe,” Maura said firmly.

“Good for you…and us,” the Lieutenant said with a small smile, receiving a bright one from Maura in return.   

There was something about this Lieutenant that really did not sit right with Jane.  Things just didn’t add up.  Although, the normally perceptive Maura didn’t seem to care, Jane noted.  Why would a Bronx homicide detective have wealth and know about fashion?  Where the hell would a New York City detective get that kind of cash anyway??

The Lieutenant called out a second time.  “Rizzoli!”

“Uh, yeah?” Jane said uncertainly, finally focused on her boss’ words instead of her suspect pedigree.

“What about the evidence collected, like a bloody rock or something?”  The Lieutenant asked tersely, glancing up at the overhead bridge meaningfully.

“Uh, I just got here,” she said uncomfortably, glancing at Maura, feeling her face redden. 

“We’ve collected a few objects but they only appear to have collateral blood splatter, Lieutenant,” Maura offered helpfully.  “The indentation in the dirt matches the size of the trauma to the head.” 

The Lieutenant looked at her and nodded.  “Rizzoli?  A moment?” she said politely, walking towards her car without waiting for a response.

Jane took a fortifying breath and followed, knowing the woman was not pleased with her.

When she was certain no one else would hear them, the Lieutenant turned to Rizzoli.

“I was told you were one of the best homicide detectives in the division, Rizzoli.  And your record seems to support that, but frankly, I’m not seeing it.  I’m seeing someone with their head up their ass.  Should I be worried?” she asked bluntly, shocking Jane who never had her abilities questioned.  Well, her training officer did, but that was before she knew anything.  And, well, the all-boys club of vice, then homicide, had harassed her mercilessly, assuming “the girl” was a department token, until she proved herself to them.  And her mother’s opinion didn’t count…

“No.  Not at all,” Jane blurted.   She was amazed by how bad her day was going – and it wasn’t even LUNCH yet!  Instinctively, Jane glanced to Maura, who was trying not to look like she was watching them, and failing.  The look was not lost on the new Lieutenant.

“I’m not one to meddle in the personal lives of my officers, but make no mistake, I will take action if it is affecting performance.  Do I make myself clear, Rizzoli?”

Not really understanding what she meant, Jane blinked, wondering what her family had to do with anything.  Knowing a response was required, she weakly answered: “Yes, ma’am.”

“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you Rizzoli?”

Jane’s mouth opened in surprise.  “No, ma’am,” she said with a wince.

The Lieutenant sighed and shook her head, before heading to her car.

As the Lieutenant drove away, Jane just stood there, staring as the Aston Martin left.  This was worse than with Lieutenant Grant, who was just a chauvinistic jerk looking out for his career.  Jane never had a woman boss before and for some reason, she had expected a better experience.

“Jane?  Are you ok?” Maura said, now at her side with a gentle hand on her forearm, startling the detective.

“I’m . . . not sure,” Jane honestly responded with a bewildered look, leaving Maura more concerned.


“What’s wrong, Jane?” Angela Rizzoli asked her daughter at the Rizzoli dinner table. 

Jane stopped poking her food with her fork and looked up curiously.  “What makes you think anything is wrong?”

“You’re not touching your ravioli and it’s Grandma Rizzoli’s special recipe,” Angela said as if it was obvious; at least, to her it was.

“She had a tough day with her new boss,” Frankie snickered, taking a bite of salad.

“What the hell do you know about it?!?” Jane snapped.

“Jane, language!” Angela scolded as Jane’s father, Frank senior, continued to silently eat the ravioli. 

“Did you notice how nicely she dresses?” Jane snapped.

“What does Maura’s dressing nicely have anything to do with your bad day with your boss?” Frankie countered.

“What the hell?”  Jane looked at him in confusion.  “I’m talking about the Lieu…”

“Jane, I’m not going to tell you again,” Angela snapped.  “And how does the way someone dresses have anything to do with your bad day??”

“Jane’s bad day started when didn’t show up to the division’s meeting introducing the new Lieutenant,” Frankie volunteered gleefully, earning a death glare from Jane.

“You blew off your new boss?  What were you thinking?!?”  Angela screeched in amazement.

Jane slowly turned red.   Her decision seemed obvious at the time.  In hindsight, not so much.  She still didn’t know if she was back in Maura’s good graces and now she was on the Lieutenant’s shit list.  And she still didn’t understand why Maura got upset with her.  

“Uh, it was personal,” she muttered, stabbing a ravioli.

“Did you have bad cramps?” Angela said sympathetically.

“Ma!” Jane looked at her incredulously.  “That woman is so… she accused me of not being a good cop!” Jane said. 

“For missing a stupid meeting?” Angela said with surprise, suddenly feeling protective of her sometimes-stupid daughter.  She hated the fact that Jane and Frankie chose such dangerous professions and constantly told them they should find other work.  But to have someone else accuse her daughter of being anything but the best…well, that was just unacceptable!

“Noooo. . . .” Jane said in frustration.

“Did she actually say, 'Jane you are not a good cop' ?” Frankie challenged.

“NO!  But… it’s like when I first became a detective!  She doesn’t even know me and she’s been riding me!” Jane vented.

“Kinky,” Frankie joked, clearly amused by his comment.

“Frankie!” Angela said with exasperation.

“It’s just a JOKE, Ma,” Frankie said defensively.

Jane couldn’t take anymore teasing, especially about that.  “I’ll be going now, Ma. Pop.”

“Aw Jane, Frankie will be good.  Won’t you Frankie!” Angela hissed, slapping his arm.

“Ma!” he winced.

“I don’t have much of an appetite.  Thanks for dinner,” Jane said and left the table.

“Jane!  Janie . . . ,” Angela called out as Jane left.  “What’s going on with her?” she asked to anyone who would answer as the front door shut behind Jane.

“Too much estrogen in the division now??” Frankie suggested, shoving a forkful of ravioli into his mouth.

“Frankie, that’s sexist!” she scolded.

“On second thought, that’s not it – more like unexpected testosterone,” Frankie snorted.

“Frank, do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”  Angela turned to her husband for help.

“Angela, this is really good ravioli.  Can you pass another piece of garlic bread, sweetheart?” Frank said with a smile.

She looked at the empty breadbasket with a sigh.  “There’s more in the kitchen.  I’ll be right back,” she said, shaking her head and disappearing into the kitchen.

“So . . . the lieutenant is good looking?” Frank Sr. asked curiously.

“Nicer looking than the last Lieutenant,” he joked, then noted his father’s frown of displeasure and gave him a real answer.  “She’s a little too Bronx for me but yeah, good looks and dresses nice,” Frankie said with a shrug.  “Doesn’t take any shit – she seems ok.”

“Hmmm,” Frank Sr. said, chewing his ravioli.


Left, right, left, right. 

Each foot hit the pavement in purposeful rhythm.  Sweat dripped off her brow as she breathed in, out, in, out.

It was a peaceful time, a time when she was in control.  It wasn’t the first time Jane jogged at night.  

Left, right, left, right. 

It wasn’t likely to be her last.

The burn in her muscles started to become painful.  But she didn’t want to stop.  Besides being several miles away from her home, stopping meant her ability to zone out and just focus on the mechanics of jogging was gone. 

If she stopped, she’d start to think.  And every time she started to think, she thought about Maura.  And now, after the arrival of the new Lieutenant . . . .

Jane frowned and pressed on.

Left, right, left, right.

Chapter 2 – Speculation


“UGH!” Barry said as he tried to reboot his computer again and found the server still down.  “How can we catch anyone if we can’t communicate or investigate!  We still don’t know who the bicyclist is?”

“You are having withdrawals, aren’t you?” Jane asked dryly, sipping a large cup of coffee as she headed to her desk, her second one that morning. 

“Jane, the longer we delay pursuing leads, the colder the trail will get.  And our most wanted will continue to be most wanted!” he said with frustration.

Jane grabbed the yellow pages from her desk and tossed him the large phone book, with a slight grimace at the exertion.  “Korsak tells me cops used to use things called “phones.”  In his day, they were connected by a wire to the wall.  And they also used pencils and paper.  I know, I know.  It’s crazy,” she said, shrugging as she raised her hands up with dramatic emphasis.

Frost rolled his eyes.

“Did you talk with Korsak?”  Frost shook his head no.  “Someone called in a missing person that fits John Doe’s description.  He’s looking into it,” she said, sitting down gingerly.

“Exert yourself last night, Rizzoli?” Frost blurted with a smirk.

“Actually, I did,” Jane responded with an annoyed smirk.

“Anyone special?” Frost probed curiously.  Jane looked at him.  He was almost as bad as Korsak.

“Where were you last night!?!” Maura marched up to Jane’s desk and demanded. 

“Well good morning to you too,” Jane said to hurricane Maura.  Good GOD did she have to wear that dress again?!?  she thought, immediately noting the cleavage that could be classified as a lethal weapon.

“And ask her why she is so sore too,” Frost said with a snicker, flipping through the yellow pages with interest.

Maura looked curiously at Jane, who briefly glared at Frost before returning her gaze to the medical examiner.  Eyes up, Rizzoli! 

“Uh, I’m sorry, Maur.  I didn’t check my messages until late … well early this morning,” Jane said with an apologetic wince as she busily reached for a safe pen from a safe plastic organizer.  The motion caused a slight grimace.  “I figured I’d catch up to you in a couple of hours so I didn’t call back.  It didn’t sound urgent,” she added, trying the pen on a piece of paper, frowning.  She threw it out and found another one in her desk.  “Is something the matter?” Jane asked with sudden concern. She glanced at Maura worriedly, realizing that Maura might not have felt comfortable saying what it was on the message.


“I . . . called you.  But you were . . . out,” Maura said hesitantly, piecing the evidence together, coming to an unpleasant conclusion.  Jane unavailable all night and the muscle soreness exhibited the next morning . . . .

Seeing the uncomfortable look on Maura’s face, Jane’s eyes widened as she realized what Maura was concluding from the circumstantial evidence.  “No!  I wasn’t…it wasn’t that,” Jane blurted awkwardly, having never found it particularly comfortable to talk about “that” with her.  She glanced over to Frost, gratefully noting he was gone from his desk.

Maura took a deep breath, well aware Jane was having trouble looking her in the eye.  She didn’t need to have a doctorate in human psychology to know that behavior was associated with discomfort, embarrassment, and guilt, which concerned Maura; there was no reason Jane should ever feel any of those things around her.  “It’s perfectly natural, Jane.  You are an exceptionally healthy and beautiful woman,” Maura said, trying to be a supportive friend.  “There is no reason you should feel embarrassed about engaging in sexual int….” 

“I don’t care if it's natural or not,” she hissed, interrupting her.  “And I am NOT embarrassed!” she said, her voice and demeanor not matching her assertion, Maura considered.  “For the record, I was not out for . . . that.  After dinner at Ma’s, I went jogging.  That’s all.  Jogging.  Just lots and lots of jogging,” Jane said, compelled to explain for some reason.

“All night??  I called you several… wait, you went jogging right after dinner?  That is really not advisable, Jane,” she lectured.  Several questions plagued her, but Jane’s health was most important.  “That could cause gastrointestinal dis…” Maura said with concern. 

“Maura,” Jane interrupted wearily.  “It wasn’t a problem.  I hardly ate anything.”

“Jane, you love your mother’s cooking,” Maura said in confusion, more questions piling up.  “Are you feeling all right?” Maura said with concern over the information she had just learned - loss of appetite, excessive exercise.  “You are not attempting to lose weight, are you, Jane?”  she said with disapproval, carefully inspecting Jane’s form.


“At your current height, your weight and body mass index is perfectly healthy.  In fact, you could gain several pounds and still be within healthy stan….” Maura continued.

“Maura!” Jane interrupted, standing up and gaining her curious attention.  “I’m fine,” she said slowly, placing a hand on her forearm to hopefully punctuate that fact. 

“Is there a problem here?” 

Jane and Maura glanced to the Lieutenant.

Maura kept silent and looked at Jane for she was only able to say yes, which she considered unwise to share at this time.  If pressed to explain, Maura knew she would be unable to articulate what that problem was specifically.  On the bright side, Jane was not likely suffering from a body image neurosis.  Though not eating and excessive exercising were symptoms of stress, she considered.  And Jane did seem to be uncomfortable around her new boss….

“Maura was explaining why I shouldn’t jog just after eating dinner,” Jane said easily.  “Which I’m sure is like swimming after eating – a not enough blood flow to the stomach causing cramps sort of thing.  Did I get that about right, Maura?” Jane said, looking at Maura, who nodded weakly.

“You could suffer from stomach cramps,” Maura answered.   “. . . if you jogged immediately after eating a big meal.”

Jane really hoped the Lieutenant would not question them on why the medical examiner had chosen that particular time to lecture her on not jogging after eating.

Glancing between the two women with a sigh, she focused on the medical examiner.
“So Doctor Isles, do you have any more details on the bicyclist yet?” 

“Actually, I do,” Maura said, glancing at Jane pointedly.  Jane would have learned that too, had she answered her phone.  Maura turned her gaze to the Lieutenant with a smile.  “I can show you in the morgue, if you’d like.”

“It does help to see things in addition to reading the reports,” the Lieutenant admitted.  “Lead the way, Doctor,” she said with a smile, politely motioning for the medical examiner to precede her.

“Gladly,” Maura said, leaving a frowning Jane behind.

Once again, the Lieutenant complimented Maura on her outfit and Maura smiled and returned the compliment on the Lieutenant’s stylish pantsuit.  Jane glanced down at her own wardrobe a thoughtful moment, then shook her head and plopped down in her swivel chair. 

“Frost?” Jane said as he returned with the phone book in hand.

“Did you know they actually have menus in these things?”  he said, looking up from the big yellow book.

Ignoring his grand discovery, she asked: “Since the network is down, can you go to Human Services and get a copy of the lieutenant’s application and any personal records?”  Even if the network had been up, Jane would have asked Frost to pull up the files, not wanting anyone to know she was looking into her new boss.

“I could, but I’m not going to,” Frost said, not looking up at her as he flipped a page.  “And I don’t even know if they still use paper down there.  They may be as screwed as we are.”

She rolled her chair to his desk.  He cringed at her proximity.  “Could you please at least check?” Jane asked quietly.


She looked around the room before speaking in hushed tones.  “Let’s piece the facts together.  She has an ASTON MARTIN.”

“A sweet 6.0 liter V12, Rapide,” Frost said with excitement, causing Jane to roll her eyes.  "That's 470 horse…,”

“Expensive clothes,” Jane interrupted.

“Are you going to investigate Dr. Isles too?” he said dryly, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair and eyed her.

“A ROLEX,” Jane emphasized, ignoring Frost’s stupid question. 

“Really?” Frost said with interest, glancing down at his ironman digital watch.  “I’ve been thinking of saving up for one….”

“Frost!  Stay with me here,” she growled with frustration.


“She is from the Bronx and is a police officer, which is inconsistent with having all those luxuries.”

“Uh huh.”

“Her former precinct had a big, messy corruption case recently.”


“Piece it together, partner,” she said expectantly.

“You think she is a dirty cop because she looks great?” Frost said incredulously.

“Not just because she looks grea…looks okay,” Jane blurted with exasperation.  “Something is just not right.  We need to find out what,” she added with conviction.

“Jane,” Frost said patiently.  “Do you have such little faith in the Boston police department human services that you would think they would hire someone in a senior position that is a dirty cop?”

“They are not cops – they are pencil pushers, Frost.  Jeeze!”

“Do you have such little faith in the New York City Internal Affairs De…scratch that,” Barry said, having read how messy the NYCPD bust was as it included some Internal Affairs officers.

“Her timing in coming here when it got really hot in New York was a bit convenient, wouldn’t you say?  She just doesn’t add up,” Jane said emphatically.  “I feel it in my gut.”

“Maybe you’re feeling the effects of all that jogging after eating,” Barry offered flatly, getting a frown as Rizzoli rolled back to her desk, shaking her head.

“What’s wrong with Rizzoli’s gut?” Vince asked, walking up with a coffee cup and donut as he took a sip.

“Jane’s gut here thinks our new lieutenant is a dirty cop,” Frost said, shaking his head at his hopefully only temporarily insane partner.

“What?” Vince coughed.  “Why??”

“She’s from the Bronx,” Frost offered, counting Jane’s clues on his fingers. “Her last precinct had a messy corruption case which exposed several dirty cops, she has a Aston Martin, looks good in her clothes,” Frost offered and added with great importance “has a ROLEX. Frost said then snorted “and Jane feels it in her gut.”

“Don’t be so quick to dismiss Rizzoli’s gut, Frost,” Vince scolded him and looked at her seriously. 

“THANK you, Korsak!” Jane said, feeling relieved that at least her seasoned former partner was listening to her.

“What are we going to do?” Vince asked gravely, just before he burst out laughing.

“Fine.  Don’t listen.  But mark my words, our new boss isn’t what she seems,” Rizzoli said to the laughing men who just laughed more.  She got up and left her desk.


On the way to the morgue, Jane hesitated as she passed the Lieutenant’s office then stopped, looking around.  Certain no one was paying attention to her, she took a breath and entered, compelled more by a driving need to get to the bottom of her suspicions rather than good sense.

After being stunned by the number of files stacked on the desk, she noticed there were absolutely no personal affects displayed.  She frowned, noting in the corner of the office there were several boxes that had yet to be unpacked.  As she took a step towards those tempting boxes, a clerk startled her, appearing at the door with a handful of files.  Jane smiled weakly as the young clerk passed her.  The clerk paused a moment, looking for a place to put the files.  Spotting only one empty horizontal surface left, she placed the pile on the Lieutenant’s chair.  After completing her task, she glanced around the office then at Jane curiously.

Jane motioned to the room weakly.   “Can never find a cop when you want one, huh?” 

The clerk smiled uncertainly and left her in the office that looked like a bomb had exploded in it, leaving paper shrapnel everywhere.  Jane wondered if she would ever want to get promoted to Lieutenant. 

Alone to complete her task, Jane glanced at the inviting brown boxes in the corner.

“Rizzoli!  There you are.  I’ve got something,” Korsak said coming up to her, then curiously looking at her then the paper-filled office of the Lieutenant’s a moment before frowning.  “Poking your nose in her stuff is NOT a good plan,” he scolded with a meaningful look.

Jane sighed.  “What do you have?”


Maura felt most comfortable in lecture mode as she stood next to the Lieutenant and pointed to the impact area on the head, then the computer rendering of that area, which helped highlight her point.

“. . . and there are smaller indentations within the impact area which would suggest there was a separate, smaller blow to the head; the ground where his head hit causing the larger trauma did not have any similar-shaped protrusions.  The indentations are geometrically distinct – pyramid shapes that are symmetrically spaced,” Maura said, clearly interested in her finding.

“From a round sphere with small pyramid-shaped protrusions?” the Lieutenant asked, leaning in to more closely inspect the computer graphic.

“Yes,” Maura said with confidence and pressed a key, pulling up her graphical representation of the object in question, pleasing the Lieutenant, who smiled at her.  Feeling some satisfaction, Maura continued, “I am confident these markings are caused by an impact that occurred before his head hit the ground.”

“Do you think the projectile was launched by a sling-shot or someone throwing it?” the Lieutenant asked curiously, then squinted as she flipped through Maura’s thorough and daunting report.  She really didn’t need more paper to wade through, she sighed.

“I can’t determine that, not knowing the distance the projectile covered,” Maura said, wishing she could.  “But the force used was sufficient to leave behind an indentation.”

“Regardless of the method, that first impact wasn’t enough to kill him,” the Lieutenant said absently, staring at the poor guy.

“Actually, it is possible the first impact could have killed him,” Maura said, gaining a surprised look.  “But the subarachnoid hemorrhage that killed him was more likely caused by the larger trauma to the head when it impacted the ground.”

“A sub…what??”

“A hemorrhagic stroke from a ruptured aneurism.”

“Let me guess, Lance Doe here had a history of circulatory disease and a genetic predisposition?”

Maura looked at the Lieutenant impressed with the question but curious about the name.  “Lance?”

“Lance Armstrong?”

“The accomplished bicyclist?” Maura asked.

“Yeah.  And cancer survivor,” she added.  “So is the guy susceptible?”

“How does being a cancer survivor have any relevance to the case?”

The Lieutenant looked at her a moment.  Seeing the curious look on her face, she recognized Maura’s question was genuine.  “Nothing that I know of, Dr. Isles.  Just sharing an interesting fact.”

Maura accepted that answer with a smile, appreciating interesting facts, then continued as if they hadn’t veered off on a tangent. “I can’t confirm his history until I see his medical records or conclusively determine his genetic disposition until the lab tests get back.”

The Lieutenant nodded and sighed heavily.  “Unlucky bastard.   I’ve seen this before.   A prank ends up killing someone.  Instead of a misdemeanor, we’re looking at manslaughter,” the lieutenant said, eyeing Maura. 

“Isn’t it premature to assume the act was a prank?” Maura said.

“You are right, Dr. Isles,” she allowed with a small, satisfied smile and nod.  “Until we get more evidence, it would be premature to conclude that,” she said, gaining a pleased smile from the medical examiner.  “I don’t suppose you or the team happened to pick up the subject projectile,” she asked doubtfully, suspecting Dr. Isles would have told her.

“Unfortunately, no.  As you noted when we were there, the ground conditions were muddy.  It may have been obscured and still be there,” Maura noted.

“I guess we’ve got some more…,” she responded with a shrug, but was interrupted by a tall brunette storming into the morgue.

“Hey Maura, I . . . ,” Jane said with enthusiasm, causing the two women to snap their heads towards Jane.  “. . . have some information,” she finished awkwardly, noting the Lieutenant’s slight frown.  “Excuse me,” she added weakly; her mother did teach her SOME manners after all.

“Seems our bicyclist died because of a cerebral aneurism,” Maura quickly volunteered, hoping to diffuse the situation.  Jane and her boss did not seem to get along very well.

Jane nodded, grateful for the diversion.  “Korsak checked up on the missing persons report and it looks like our John Doe is Greg Johnston, twenty-nine.  His family is coming to positively identify the body,” Jane said, glancing at Maura, who nodded and glanced around the room to verify it was ready for outside visitors.  She really hated that part of the job. 

“He had a history of epilepsy – rode his bike everywhere,” Jane added, then looked at the body, confused.

“Then he’d likely have a helmet?” Maura said what Jane was thinking and provoked a nod. 

“I checked with the family.  They said that the path we found the body on was his normal route to and from his job.  I wonder if someone took his helmet so he didn’t have it that day,” Jane said thoughtfully, glancing back at the body then Maura.

“I found that there was a smaller indentation within the area of the larger head wound, indicating a separate impact,” Maura informed Jane, pointing to the injured area on the body then the amplified picture on the computer screen, then the picture of the resulting projectile model calculated from the injury shape.  Jane migrated closer to Maura and the information.

“Like from a sling shot?”  Jane asked, causing Maura to glance at the Lieutenant, who smiled silently.  She had been closely watching their interaction with interest.

“Possibly.  But the evidence is inconclusive,” Maura acknowledged uncomfortably, never liking to be under scrutiny.

“Would that have caused…?”

“Not likely.”

“Normally a blow to the head like that would cause a concussion not death…was it a brain tumor or something?”  Jane said with a sparkle in her eye, getting an exasperated look from Maura.

“If you would stop guessing, I’ll tell you,” Maura scolded her. 

Jane held up her hands in silent promise to not guess and just listen.

“Death was caused by an aneurism, brought on from the head trauma likely from the larger impact to the cranium.” 

“Poor guy,” Jane said, looking at the body.  Maura looked between Jane and the Lieutenant, who appeared to have similar responses to the misfortune of the victim.

“Well, Rizzoli,” the Lieutenant spoke, almost causing Jane to jump, Maura noticed curiously.  “Sounds like you have a projectile to find.”

“And its owner,” Jane added with a determined look as she glanced at the body on the table again.  Maura knew Jane would do everything she could to find the murderer. 

The Lieutenant also saw that look and respected it.  “You may dazzle me yet, Rizzoli,” she said, handing Jane the report, and left the two women alone.

Maura smiled, knowing that the Lieutenant would not have to wait long to see how exceptional Jane was at her job.

“Thanks,” Jane said weakly, looking down at the report and flipping quickly through it.

“Jane, what is with you lately?”  Maura asked gently, knowing she was treading on a potential minefield.  Jane’s reaction was unpredictable when she tried to help.

Jane frowned and started to protest the observation but couldn’t once she looked into Maura’s concerned eyes.  She let out a long sigh.  “I don’t know.  I just seem to be off.  And I think that’s why I seem to keep upsetting you.  I hope you know I don’t try to be an ass,” she said with a shrug.  “I just don’t think about what comes out of my mouth sometimes.”

“I know you don’t, Jane,” Maura said warmly, getting an annoyed look.  “What?  I’m just agreeing with you – you happen to be right.”

“Ooh.  I’m right about something.  It’s about damn time.  Though I’d wish it wasn’t about me being an idiot,” Jane joked.

“I didn’t say idiot,” Maura gently corrected, uncomfortable whenever Jane put herself down, even when joking.

“So we’re good?”

“Right as rain,” Maura said warmly, making Jane smile.

“Now why do people say that?” Jane said innocently with a twinkle in her eye, launching Maura into the expected explanation.

“Well the origins are not definitive, but that phrase is thought to be invented by the English, as their weather is normally rainy.  So being right as rain, is being….” Maura finally slowed down, noticing Jane’s big smile.

“Normal,” Jane interjected.  “So we’re normal?” she asked with a grin.

“I’m starting to seriously question that,” Maura said with feigned irritation.

“So, did you get a new dress for the policemen’s benefit?” Jane asked, causing Maura to brighten; she loved shopping for clothes.

“I did.  It’s too bad you have to wear your uniform, I saw the perfect dress that would accentuate your long legs,” Maura said easily, looking down at them with a smile, imagining the look.

“Would it require high heels?”

“Of course,” Maura said, wondering why Jane would even ask.

“Then I’ll stick with my monkey suit, thank you,” Jane said.

“At least you’ll look good in it,” Maura said honestly, making Jane smile.  “Unfortunately, the uniform does not tend to flatter most female officers.  Though, I suspect the lieutenant will look good in hers too,” Maura said, glancing where the woman left.

“Really,” Jane said flatly.

“Don’t you think so?”

“I . . . actually hadn’t thought about it,” Jane added with pursed lips.

“You know, I think she might be gay,” Maura offered, looking at Jane with interest.

“What?!?” Jane sputtered.  “Why would you think that?  Did she come on to you?!?” Jane blurted protectively, then froze as the words caught up to her.

“No!  The lieutenant is nothing if not professional.”

“Oh,” Jane said, feeling an odd sense of relief.  “You really should be careful about accusing her of being gay,” she added with concern.

“I wasn’t accusing her of anything,” Maura responded with surprise.  

“So your gaydar had a ping, was that it?” Jane snapped back irritably, surprising Maura.

“You surprise me, Jane,” Maura said disapprovingly.  “You act like it would be a crime to be gay.  I never thought you were prejudiced against homosexuals,” she said.

“I’m not!  It’s just . . . ,” Jane said, then blew out a frustrated breath and continued.  “Just because she has a tough image or a typically male job doesn’t mean she’s gay!  Policewomen constantly get unfairly branded and harassed about their sexuality all the time,” Jane said emphatically.

“I wasn’t trying to brand or harass anyone,” Maura countered strongly.  “Besides, gender studies indicate that there is a larger percentage of lesbian women in the law enforcement….”

“Maura!”  Jane interrupted with a moan, really not wanting to hear about gender studies or how many homosexuals are estimated to be on the force.

“I’m just saying that…”

“So you are branding her gay because….?” Jane said.

Maura frowned.  “I wasn’t branding!  I was . . . speculating,she admitted distastefully.  “Which I’ll admit is highly out of character for me and that I should never have attempted to discuss my thoughts without sufficient substantiating data,” she said tersely.  “Is there anything else, Detective?”

“Maura…” Jane said wearily as Dr. Isles turned to the dead body, which apparently was far more interesting than the live detective in her morgue.  Knowing she wasn’t going to make things any better by trying to force a mad Maura to talk to her, she reluctantly left.

Chapter 3 – Evidence Gathering

Jane shook the small metal detector with irritation.  It didn’t even detect the 35 cents in change she found by her good old-fashioned flashlight and blind hand sifting.  With a growl, she tossed the worthless device aside and pointed her trusty flashlight under another bush, what felt like the millionth one that evening.  She was about to give up hope of finding the bloody projectile when a small reflection in the dirt caught her eye.  With a spark of anticipation, she crawled on her knees, which were soaking up the moisture from the still muddy ground. 

She growled when one of the branches she had pushed out of the way sprung back and slapped her in the face.  Once she got to the shiny speck, her purple-gloved fingers dug through the muddy dirt to reveal a spherical object with pointed protrusions.  “Ha!” she said victoriously and quickly bagged the evidence.

“Frost!  This is it!” she said triumphantly.  

“Thank god we’re done!” he said, standing up from an adjacent bush where he had been scanning with a hand-held metal detector.  He groaned as he rubbed his back.

“You’re too young for back pains,” she commented with a smirk.

“I’m too young to be out this late,” he countered as he walked up to her. 

She stared at the overhead bridge, then looked at him.  “If we assume someone was on the overpass with a slingshot, we should be able to figure out the height of the unsub with what we have right?”

Frost took the evidence bag and looked at the bridge.  “I’ll need to get the height of the bridge and then use Dr. Isles’ data from the body, with a few assumptions about the position of the head . . . we could get a range of heights,” he said.  “Not exactly conclusive, Rizzoli.”

Jane frowned.  “You’re sounding like Maura.  Come on, let’s start measuring!”


“No time like the present,” she grinned.

“To sleep!” Frost complained, getting a heavy sigh from his partner.

“All right sleeping beauty,” she relented.  “Go home and get some zees.  But you’d better be bright-eyed and bushy tailed and ready to kick ass tomorrow!” she called out to her partner, who had already departed for his car.

Jane shook her head and sighed with a smirk.  Vince would have never admitted wanting a break first.  Guess that’s the difference between old school and today’s batch of detectives, she thought.

The sound of footfalls startled Jane, whose hand instinctively went to her weapon as she quickly turned to face the unexpected noise.  She stopped herself from drawing her gun when she saw who was there. 

“You really don’t like donuts do you?” the Lieutenant said wryly, walking up with a bag and a tray of three coffees.  Impeccably dressed as always, Jane thought, absently glancing down at her wrinkled shirt and muddy jeans with irritation.

“Checking up on me?” Jane blurted with irritation.

“Do I need to?”  The Lieutenant countered conversationally as she went to a bench and sat. 

“No,” Jane said tightly, wanting to punch her.  Thankfully, she didn’t need Korsak to recognize that was a bad plan.

“I got old-fashioned ones.  I prefer chocolate-covered but the icing always gets stuck to the bag,” she said with a slight frown.  “The coffee is black – I don’t like to bother with sugar or cream packages,” she said, leaning towards the still-standing detective to hand over a coffee to a confused detective. 

“Thanks,” Jane said uneasily and sat down.  She glanced over to see a donut being offered.  She hesitantly accepted it, looking at it as if she had never seen a donut before.

“So, what are your thoughts on the case?”  the Lieutenant asked, dunking a donut in the coffee and taking a healthy bite.

“You weren’t lurking in the shadows listening??” Jane asked flippantly.

“Didn’t get here soon enough,” she said, sipping her coffee.

“Why are you here?  I’m getting the impression that you don’t trust me.  And I have done absolutely nothing to warrant that lack of trust on a case.  I may not have conducted myself as smartly as I should have but . . . why are you here?”

The Lieutenant chewed her donut a moment and looked at Jane.  After swallowing, she took a sip of coffee before speaking.  “I’ve known a lot of police officers in my career.  On paper and by reputation, they were outstanding.  Almost super-cops.  But I’ve been disappointed too many times to trust that paper and those reputations,” she said, sipping her coffee.  “So I’ve learned to only trust my own observations.”

“And from your observations so far, I’m a total fuck-up,” Jane said flatly.

“Jury is still out on that, Rizzoli.  Though I still think you have your head up your ass,” she offered, biting her donut.

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Jane said with annoyance.

“No,” she said, making Jane more frustrated.  “But you are letting yourself get distracted.”

“Well with my head up my ass, it is rather hard to concentrate on anything else…not to mention sit down comfortably,” Jane countered sarcastically.

The Lieutenant chuckled.  “You should really try the donut,” she said, finishing hers.

Jane looked down at hers.  “Isn’t this a little cliché?  Cops and their donuts?”

“Perhaps.  But I don’t worry too much about stereotypes or what people think of me anymore.  I’ve learned that as long as I do my job well, it’s no one’s fucking concern.  I’m a cop who loves donuts - deal with it!” she declared defiantly.

Jane looked at her with reluctant amusement, then looked at her donut and took a bite, which melted in her mouth.  “Good GOD these are good!” she said with a mouthful, looking between the unexpectedly delicious treat and her boss with amazement.

“Told you,” she said smugly, sipping her coffee.

“Where did you get them?” Jane asked, knowing she would have heard about a bakery that made donuts as good as these.


“You made them?” Jane asked with surprised.

“Hell no.  I don’t cook.”

“I can cook,” Jane blurted, then felt stupid, gaining the Lieutenant’s thoughtful gaze.  It was a long uncomfortable moment before she responded.

“And you're taller than I am,” she stated with an annoyingly knowing smirk.

“You dress nicer,” Jane offered lamely.  That much would be evident to a blind woman, Rizzoli thought with an internal groan.

“Only after years of training by someone who really cares about clothes,” she said with a laugh, then sobered and looked at her curiously.  “Are you really worried about being compared to me, Rizzoli?”

“I . . .” Jane said, not knowing how to answer that.

“Don’t be.  You’ve got a lot going for you, even if you're not on your A-game at the moment.  I had a similar problem once.  And I got through it, so there’s hope for you yet,” she said, standing up and sticking her hands in her coat pocket.  “I know I’m going to regret this but…if you need to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

Jane was wondering what the hell she was talking about, though it sort of seemed like a pep-talk, in a back-handed complimentary sort of way.  But what problem??  Talk about what??

“Kids these days,” the Lieutenant said, motioning to the third coffee and shook her head.  “My partner, Harry, would never have admitted he was tired before a mere woman,” she chuckled at the memory.  “Goddamn chauvinist pig,” she muttered fondly, making Jane chuckle in spite of her confusion.

“If you want, you can tell Frost I came by and was wondering where he was,” she said with a slight grin.

Jane chuckled again, considering it.  “He’d be on pins and needles around you all day, hell, probably all week.”

“Yeah,” she readily acknowledged, her smile still in place.  “See you tomorrow, Rizzoli,” she said and walked off into the darkness.


“Hey, Jane!  The computers are back!” Frost greeted her happily as she came to her desk the next morning.  He was well rested and on his computer, finishing the projectile path calculations.  “But…I have coffee,” he said curiously when Jane placed a large cup on his desk, next to his cup. 

“That’s from the Lieutenant,” Jane said with a shrug as he picked it up.

“It’s . . .why would she give me cold coffee?”  he said, glancing towards the Lieutenant’s office curiously.

“It wasn’t cold when she stopped by last night, after you left,” she noted conversationally, logging onto her computer.

“She was at the scene last night??”  He squeaked, which was a new sound for him, Jane noted with amusement.

“Brought coffee and donuts.  Damn good donuts,” she said appreciatively.

Frost looked at her suspiciously, trying to gauge her.  His eyes widened when he spotted the Lieutenant walk towards Vince with a folder.

“Lieutenant, thanks again for the coffee and donuts,” Jane said to her.

“Thought you might appreciate it, after putting in all the extra hours last night,” she answered, then eyed Frost for a long moment.  He physically shrank in his seat.

Wondering what was going on, Korsak eyed Jane curiously, receiving an innocent shrug from his former partner.

Jane barely withheld a grin as she logged onto her computer, considering the Lieutenant might work out after all.


“Guess who has a three million dollar life insurance policy?”  Jane said with a big smile as she went into Maura’s office.  

Maura looked up with a welcoming smile that always lifted Jane’s spirits.

“Greg Johnston?”

“Ding ding ding, give the lovely lady a prize!” Jane said with a grin, sitting on the edge of Maura’s desk.

“That is certainly an interesting bit of information,” Maura allowed.

“It certainly is.  There’s more,” Jane said enthusiastically, making Maura smile; Jane’s recent funk seemed to be over.

“Do tell,” Maura said with interest.

“I shall,” Jane answered primly.  “His only remaining relatives are his brother Richard and sister Gwyneth who are, interestingly, the beneficiaries.”

“Hmm.  They came in yesterday to identify the body,” Maura said thoughtfully.  “They both seemed quite upset.”

“I’m sure they were,” Jane said with a thin smile.  “Seems our investigation is interesting the insurance company; they’ve placed a hold on a payout until the cause has been determined.  So how’s the forensics on the projectile?”

“The blood found matches the victim and the shape matches the indentation.  It is the object that hit Mr. Johnston,” she said confidently.  “Though I am not familiar with the projectile’s origin,” she added with a frown.

“Ah,” Jane said with a satisfied smile.  “Well, it seems that this is a specially made martial arts weapon used in martial arts tournaments,” Jane said and saw Maura’s face cringe in confusion.

“Why would anyone compete with a throwing weap…?”

“Illegal tournaments - like the Fight Club,” Jane explained. 

“Fight club?”

“An underground fight with no rules that people gamble on?” she explained.

“They fight in . . . mines?”  Maura said in confusion.

“Maura!  Fight Club is….”

“Whoa, Rizzoli!  What’s the first rule of Fight Club?” the Lieutenant said, joining them in Maura’s office.

“Don’t talk about Fight Club,” Jane replied solemnly, completely confusing Maura.

“Why on Earth not?!?” Maura said with irritation, looking between the amused women.

The Lieutenant motioned to Jane to have her explain. 

“We were quoting the movie lines from the movie Fight Club.”

“I see,” Maura said flatly, clearly unimpressed, which made the women more amused.

“Ok Rizzoli, how would you like to visit the brother with me?” the Lieutenant said, looking at her expectantly.

“No Frost?”  Jane asked curiously, wondering why the Lieutenant wanted to do an interview with her.  Was it that she still didn’t trust her?  Jane wondered with niggling irritation. 

“He’ll be with Korsak, visiting the sister.”

“OK?” Jane said uncertainly, seeing the Lieutenant nod and walk out.  Jane frowned slightly.

“I’ll meet you at my car in fifteen,” the Lieutenant said, pausing at the door.  “Very nice outfit, by the way, Dr. Isles,” she said with a warm smile and walked out.

“Thank you,” Maura called out with a smile.

Jane glanced over Maura’s outfit.  Of course the outfit was very nice; it was always very nice.  When her eyes lifted up, pausing at Maura’s chest, her friend spoke, jarring her out of her appreciation of her . . . outfit.

“Seems you two are getting along better,” Maura said happily, looking where the Lieutenant left with a warm smile.

“Yeah, I guess.  Something is still . . . ,” Jane said before pausing and shaking her head.

“Still…?” Maura prompted curiously.

“Off,” she said, shrugging, not wanting to get into it any further, suspecting she would end up annoying Maura . . . again.

“How so?”  Maura really wanted to help Jane through her difficulties with her boss, who seemed so much like Jane that she was honestly surprised the two had not hit it off.

“Uh, I’m not sure,” she said honestly but quickly added “I’ve gotta go.  Don’t need to annoy her by being late,” Jane said wearily.

“Don’t worry, Jane.  I am sure things will work out well between you,” Maura said with a confident smile.  Jane had an ability to make people comfortable that she had always admired.

Jane was warmed by Maura’s tireless support.  “I’ll see you later.  Oh, and I love your dress,” she offered, glancing over her outfit once more with a smile, surprising Maura, who silently watched Jane quickly leave to meet her boss.

Maura’s fingers absently trailed down the seam of her plunging neckline as a pleased smile formed.

Chapter 4 – Planting Seeds

As they walked to the Aston Martin together, Jane looked at the nice ride, then at her boss curiously, wondering if she might get to drive.  As the Lieutenant put her sunglasses on, she said “No chance in hell, Rizzoli,” before going to the driver’s side.

With a sigh, Jane got in, glad she had not embarrassed herself more by actually asking; but it was a sweet ride, she considered as she buckled up.


As they arrived at their destination, Jane looked curiously at the storefront.  “Johnston’s Martial Arts school?  I thought he was a banker,” Jane said in confusion.

“He is.  I checked out other leads based on your research of the projectile.  This is a business investment of his and a part-time hobby,” the Lieutenant said.  “Lose the badge and sidearm.”

“I’m sorry?” Jane said in confusion, staring at her as she took her own weapon and badge and placed them in the center console.

“I want to feel them out without the hardware,” she said, opening up the glove box for Jane, who hesitantly took her badge and weapon and placed them in the glove box.

“Just follow my lead,” she said, getting out of the car.   An uneasy Jane followed.


“May I help you?”  A muscular man in a black gi emerged from behind the front counter and approached them with a pleasant smile.

The Lieutenant took her sunglasses off and surveyed the room, not immediately answering.  Trophies and pictures of students at tournaments adorned the wall.  At the center of the room were mats, where a student and a curly haired blond, female instructor were going over forms.  On the front counter, a clear collection can for the American Cancer society sat, with only a few handfuls of small change in it.  Next to the counter was an antique gumball machine, which was almost full with colorful spheres.  Finally, her gaze returned to the man.  “I hope so,” she said with a smile, which was returned uncertainly by the man.

“My friend and I were wondering if there were any martial arts tournaments coming up.”

“Are you interested in competing?” he asked with surprise, looking over the two women critically.  Normally younger people pursued the tournament circuit.  Though these two seemed in good shape, he considered.

Jane’s eyes widened as she wondered what the hell her new boss was getting them into.

“Oh no,” the Lieutenant said with a chuckle, to Jane’s relief.  “We’re purely spectators,” she added.  “Frankly, I’m tired of baseball and football and just discovered martial arts.  I had no idea how exciting they were to watch until I saw a match in New York,” she said, getting him to smile slightly.  “Person against person, matching the physical skill and wit of each competitor.  Art mixed with an incredibly intense sport.  It’s  . . . exhilarating.”

Jane thought she was laying it on a bit thick until she saw the man’s broad smile; he clearly agreed with her assessment.

“Well, if you are staying a while, we have a city tournament coming up in a week, then a county event in two.  Our members are expected to make a good showing,” he said helpfully.

“Oh,” she said with disappointment.  “I was hoping for something a bit more…aggressive to watch.”

“I’m sorry?” he responded hesitantly.

“Something that one might wager on?”  Jane spoke up, getting a nod from her boss.

“I’m afraid I don’t know anything about what you’re interested in,” the muscular man said uncomfortably.

“Too bad.  Is the owner here?” the Lieutenant asked, glancing once again around the dojo.

“No, he works . . . elsewhere,” he said vaguely, growing more uncomfortable at the questioning.

“Oh, too bad.  Well, if you hear something about what we’re interested in, I’d love a call,” she said handing him a business card with a hundred dollar bill, neatly tucked beneath it.

Jane’s eyes widened.

He looked down at the card.  “I’m sorry I don’t think there’s anything I’ll find like that, Ms. Largo,” he said reading the name on the card and attempted to hand back the money.

“Marie, please.  And I do understand quality entertainment is not cheap,” she said with a smile, pushing back the card and bill.  “Thanks for your time.”

As they walked to the car, Jane whispered, “Do you always carry around business cards with false names and hundreds for incentive?”

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” she said, getting into the car.

Inside, the curly haired woman finished with her student and joined the muscular man behind the counter.  “Who were they, Bob?” she asked, curiously, glancing out the window to see a green Aston Martin with New York license plates drive away.

“Some women looking for an “aggressive” match to bet on.  Not sure why they thought this place would be connected to anything like that.  This is an honorable school,” he said shaking his head with disapproval, throwing the business card in the trash.  After depositing the hundred into the collection can on the counter for the American Cancer Society, he shook his head a sad, thoughtful moment.

“The next class will be arriving soon,” he said briskly, looking at the clock on the wall.  “I’ll take out the towels from the dryer.”

As he left for his chore, the woman instructor eyed the hundred in the collection can and glanced down to the card in the trash with a raised brow.


“Any luck with the sister, Gwyneth?” Jane looked up from her computer and asked Frost, who returned just after she and the Lieutenant did.

“Other than making her cry?” he said with a frown, sitting at his desk.  “I think the highlight was when she threw us out after we suggested the brother might have motive.  All in all, a pleasant afternoon” he said dryly.  

“Why suggest the brother to her?”  Jane asked curiously, though it did appear that there was interesting circumstantial evidence with the dojo connection.

“Well, Korsak brought a copy of the policy from the insurance company, which checks out with her story that she knew nothing about is.  While they both are beneficiaries, her brother’s signature was the only one on the policy.”

“Hmmm,” Jane offered as she tapped on her keyboard.  “Korsak dig anything up on their finances yet?”

“No.  He got his subpoena this morning.”

“Hmmm,” Jane responded again, still tapping on her keyboard.  “Do you know how their parents died?”

Frost looked at her and blinked.  “Car accident, why?”

“I wonder if there are any unusually high life insurance payouts for them,” she offered with a shrug.  He blinked at her again.  “Hey, I just happen to believe in the innate badness of all people,” she said unapologetically.   “Well, except Maura.”

“You’ve been around the block a few more times than I have,” he acknowledged, quickly jotting down a note.  “How did your visit with the brother pan out?” he asked, looking up.

“It didn’t.  We never saw him,” Jane said, glancing back to the Lieutenant’s office.

“Missed him?”

“I don’t think the Lieutenant ever expected to see the brother,” Jane said thoughtfully.

“So what did you do?”

“Plant some seeds,” Jane said with a shrug.  “The guy we talked to seemed on the up-and-up when we asked about interesting tournament gambling opportunities.  I’m not so sure we'll get any bites,” she said with a sigh.

Jane frowned, still pondering why the Lieutenant had a business card with a false name.  She leaned back and stared over at the empty office a perplexed moment, before her cell phone went off.

“Rizzoli,” she said briskly.  “Hi, ma,” she said wearily, sitting up straight and glancing at Frost, who had a smirk on his face.  “Yeah.  Yeah, ma.  I’m not so . . . all right.  I’ll ask her but…. I know, six sharp,” she said with a sigh.  “Yeah, ma.  Love you too.”

She shut her cell and stared at it a moment, wondering what life might have been like before having that device.  Much quieter, she quickly concluded and stood up. Looking over to the Lieutenant’s empty office again, she smiled as an idea struck her and turned her gaze to a very happy Frost, who was typing away on his computer.

“Frost, I need you to run a check for me.  A Marie Largo, Caucasian, mid-forties.  Can you see what you can dig up on her?”

“Was that someone you met today at the dojo?” 

“Yeah.  Will you run the check?  I need to…” Jane said, absently motioning towards the elevators and the morgue.

“…invite Dr. Isles to your mother’s for dinner,” he finished for her with a smug smile.

“Are you sure you want to be a detective and not a SPY?” Jane said with a frown.  “So you’ll do it?”

“Yeah.  I wish your mom would invite me to dinner,” Frost complained.

“I’ll save you some leftovers, will that do?”

“Yeah!  Don’t forget the garlic bread,” he said with a happy smile.

Jane looked at him and shook her head as she left.


“So, if the perp knew about the medical condition, what is the probability that they would have known their actions would have likely caused the victim’s death?” the Lieutenant leaned against Maura’s desk with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I am not sure how to assess that probability,” Maura said honestly.

“Someone deliberately hit him in the head with that . . . spiky ball thing,” she blurted, at a loss for the right name for the object, getting an amused smile from Maura.  “Don’t start,” she warned the medical examiner whose smile widened.  “Anything from toxicology?”

“I just got back the results, which were surprising,” Maura offered.

“They drugged him too??” the Lieutenant asked.

“No, but if you let me finish,” Maura scolded her.  What was it with detectives and guessing, she wondered with mild frustration.

The Lieutenant raised her hands in surrender.  “Enlighten me, doctor,” she said with a smirk, getting a reluctant smile.

“The victim was taking a drug, abiraterone acetate.”

“He’s only twenty-nine and he has prostate cancer?”  she responded with surprise.

“His private medical records have not been released yet but from my preliminary examination, it appears to have metastasized to the bladder and rectum - he was in an advanced stage.”

“Doesn’t make sense to risk the insurance – why not just wait for him to keel o…uh, die,” the Lieutenant amended, not wanting to offend the medical examiner.

“There can be successful treatment, even in the advanced stages of cancer,” Maura offered.

The Lieutenant nodded.
Maura eyed the brunette curiously.  “How did your trip to the brother go?” Maura asked nonchalantly, actually more interested in how her trip with Jane went.

“We didn’t find anything yet.  But it seems like an interesting coincidence that the . . . the,” the Lieutenant stumbled, looking for the right word.

“Spherical shuriken?” Maura supplied helpfully.  “Though the typical shape of a shuriken is flat,” she noted.

“A martial arts expert too, Doctor?” the Lieutenant asked with a smirk.

“Oh no,” she readily admitted.  “I just did some research on what Jane…Detective Rizzoli had found,” Maura corrected herself.

“Dr Isles, I know you and Jane are friends.  As long as it doesn’t adversely affect the job and isn’t illegal, I don’t care who you or Rizzoli associate with in your free time.”

Maura looked at her with a smile.  “I can assure you our friendship positively affects our job performance,” she said and added with amusement “and is not illegal.”

The Lieutenant smiled slightly, not so sure about the effects on Rizzoli’s job performance at the moment.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Maura asked with a hopeful smile.  “I think knowing you better will also positively affect our job performance,” Maura added, considering it also might help Jane if they knew her better.

“I’d . . . like that,” she responded with surprise.  “Fiona never joins me for dinner,” she grumbled. 

“Whose Fiona?” Maura asked.

“Oh…the housekeeper.  Amazing cook, but goes home as soon as my dinner is on the table,” she noted.   “I can’t say that I blame her.  She has her own family to think about.”

“You have a housekeeper?”  Maura asked curiously; she really didn’t seem to be the type to have a housekeeper.  She appeared to have the means, but seemed far too private and independent to let someone take care of her, Maura considered.  Like Jane, she thought, then acknowledged that her people skills were a bit lacking and she might be reading the Lieutenant wrong.

“My better-half insisted,” she said sheepishly with a shrug. 

“You’re married?!?” Maura said with great surprise, immediately glancing to the Lieutenant’s left ring finger, which now sported a simple gold band.  She was surprised she hadn’t noticed it before.

“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” she said flatly.

Maura was aghast with embarrassment.

“No!  No, not at all!  I was just surprised.  Not surprised because I didn’t think anyone would marry you because obviously you would be quite the catch,” she blurted rapidly.

The Lieutenant eyed her silently; it was just too easy to tease the Doctor. 

“…I mean it!  Well, obviously someone thought so,” Maura added, then winced at the surprised look on the Lieutenant’s face.  “Not to mean that . . . uh . . . I just hadn’t realized, really,” Maura blurted weakly in defeat, deciding further discussion was fruitless and would only serve to make things worse.

Seeing the worry on Maura’s face, the Lieutenant started to feel guilty. 

“Relax, Doc.  I shouldn’t tease you.  I’m sorry,” she said with an apologetic smile, relieving the medical examiner.  Lifting her hand, she caressed the gold band with her thumb with a satisfied smile.  “I’m married.  Happily.  Still want to have dinner with me?”

“Why would your marital status have any bearing on whether I would like to have dinner with you?”  Maura asked honestly. 

The Lieutenant just chuckled.  “No good reason,” she said with mild amusement, getting a slightly confused look from Maura.  “So when, where?” she continued, expecting the evening to be…interesting, for Dr. Maura Isles was certainly that.  “I’m still new to the area and I trust your…,” she continued, but was interrupted when Jane barreled in.

“Maura!  Ma wanted me to invite you to . . . ,” Jane blurted, then stopped seeing her boss in Maura’s office.  “. . . dinner,” the word left her mouth in a frustrated exhale.  “Sorry.”

“You’ve got interesting timing, Rizzoli.  I’ll give you that,” the Lieutenant said, eyeing her with a small smile.

“Jane, I’ve already made plans this evening,” Maura said apologetically.

“I’ll understand if you want to make it another night, Dr. Isles,” the Lieutenant offered graciously, causing a look of consternation on Jane’s face as she realized Maura’s plans were with the Lieutenant.

“No, no,” Maura quickly countered.  “I meant it.  I’d really like to have dinner with you tonight.” Maura turned to her friend.  “Jane?”

Jane blinked at her, still wondering why Maura would really like to have dinner with the Lieutenant. 

“Please tell your mother thank you for the invitation . . . but I have other plans,” Maura said apologetically.

“Uh . . . sure.  Sure!  Don’t worry about it,” Jane said, plastering on a smile. 

“Are you ready now?  I’m starving.  We never got a chance for lunch,” the Lieutenant said, motioning to Jane, who blankly looked between the two women…who were going out to dinner.  Together.

“Let me get my purse,” Maura said warmly and quickly retrieved the designer bag.  Pausing in front of Jane, she asked with a slight wince  “You’ll tell her I look forward to a rain check?” she asked hopefully.  She really enjoyed dinner at the Rizzoli’s - and not just for the delicious food.

“Sure, don’t worry about it.  Ma likes you best anyway, so you’ll always be welcome,” she joked, getting a big smile that would have made her feel really good, had Maura not been leaving with the Lieutenant.

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