Fic: Falling Dreams 3/?
Title: Falling Dreams
Author: Demeter
Fandom: Women's Murder Club/ Rizzoli & Isles
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy
Summary: As the search for Lindsay continues, Jane learns some startling facts.
A/N: Set in the VS universe, about half a year after episode 3x8.
Disclaimer: Jane, Gabriel, Maura and O' Donnell belong to Tess Gerritsen and soon TNT. The WMC folks are James Patterson's and ABC's. Maggie Snow belongs to the wmc_vs team, so partly to me. :P
Part 1
Part 2
Contiued from:
The look he gave her would have been sympathetic on another person's face, as it was, the malice shone through. "You said you read about Warren, right? Do you know what he did? Yes?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Well, I guess you're going to find out either way. Soon."
She neither had the wish nor the time to go there now. The next moment, he pressed a damp cloth into her face, the smell just barely registering with her before the room started spinning.
He tossed the cloth into the trashcan, whistling. "Why, Warren," he said to himself. "I'm not gonna be an apprentice of yours. I'm gonna be you. It's just that I'm getting away with it."
***
Cindy had disappered for a few minutes but was back when they later regrouped in Dr. Washburn's office. She also had some information she'd found online. "There are people who meet to pray for David Arnold's immortal soul. There's an online roleplay game called Kiss-Me-Not in honor of--" She broke off, unshed angry tears glistening in her eyes. "And we thought they were insane."
For a moment, Jane wondered how all of this connected, until she continued.
"I'm sorry." Cindy took a deep breath. "About Warren Hoyt, he's got his followers, too. I found 4 chatrroms and 57 websites relating to him. Those were just the more extreme ones."
Jane was glad that both the attorney, Bernhardt, and Dr. Washburn were focused on their friend, so they missed the impact Cindy's words had on her. She'd be the last to deny that there were crazy people out there, but it became harder and harder to draw the line. What did you know? The next person at the supermarket's cash register might fantasize about cutting out some of your inner organs. Way to make a person paranoid. Only that it wasn't paranoia when they already had a body in the morgue with The Surgeon's MO.
Violence against women had a long, gruesome history, one that Warren Hoyt had educated himself in. "Anything standing out?"
"Not yet. I thought we could go over it together... there's not much more we have at the moment." Cindy was trying hard not to sound scared and dejected, and failing.
Jane decided that Gabriel would have it covered on the other end, one of his contacts already assisting the PD with access to their database. "I'll come with you."
***
"Could you wait a minute?" Cindy asked after she'd parked in front of the apartment building. "I just need to get Martha back from the neighbors."
"You have a child?" Jane asked, surprised. She remembered the photograph in the wallet; no kids' pictures there.
Cindy Thomas gave her a tired smile. "Not quite. Martha is a dog. I'll be right back."
She returned to the front door a few minutes later with the Border Collie by her side. Jane wasn't much into dogs, but she figured she could at least go for some platitudes. "My, you're pretty."
Martha backed up a little, growling at her while Cindy unlocked the door.
Jane shook her head at the dog. "Well, at least you've got some sense about you," she mumbled, following her temporary host inside. Leave it to a dog to be able to tell the difference right away.
An eerie feeling got hold of her as she walked along the hallway and into the spacious living room. From the color of the wallpaper to the lamp to the carpet in the middle of the room, it looked too damn much like the apartment she and Gabriel shared. "It's... nice."
Cindy shrugged, a somber look on her pretty face. "Most of it is rather new. We kind of had to move twice in the past year." There were clearly some bad memories involved, but Jane didn't ask. As it was, she had enough bad memories to deal with on her own. However, she remembered the names mentioned by Cindy in the morgue this morning: David Arnold and Pete Raynor.
It seemed like Lindsay had a Warren Hoyt of her own. Monsters weren't that rare.
"How about I'll get us some coffee and we continue with the websites? Claire has me on speed dial if she finds out anything."
She disappeared into the kitchen rather quickly while Jane picked up the printouts and started to read. She cringed at the chat transcript where someone had picked w_hoyt as a user name. Not that it was very original, but stupidity and a penchant for violence was a dangerous combination. Smarts and violent fantasies, even worse. They internet was a Goddamn playground for these people.
A few minutes ticked by before Jane realized that Cindy still hadn't returned from the kitchen. She laid the papers aside, got up and walked to the door, opening it softly. "Are you okay?"
Cindy turned to her with red-rimmed eyes. "No. I'm not okay. I just can't go through this again." She was trembling with the effort to hold back the tears.
As someone who worked to bring justice to the dead, Jane had made a habit of distancing herself from the living's grief and pain, a simple survival measure. She found it impossible to turn away from Cindy though, so she stepped forward and hesitantly embraced the younger woman, awkward as it was for both of them.
When the sounds of the coffemaker announced the coffee ready, Cindy withdrew, giving her a somewhat sad smile not quite revealing to Jane if she had helped at all or just turned the knife.
***
Jane had asked Cindy for a photograph of her 'twin' which the younger woman had reluctantly handed to her, and she showed it to Gabriel later. While he wasn't one to jump to conclusions, he admitted that the resemblance was too strong to be a coincdence. However, if that was true, there was only one person who could give them all the answers now. Jane clearly had enough of the mystery. If the woman missing and most likely in the hands of some psychopaths wanna-be playing Warren Hoyt was related to her in any way, she thought she had the right to know. Now.
"See, Jane, you're tired," Gabriel said reasonably. "This has to come as a shock for you, so maybe it would be better to wait until you've adjusted to the idea some more."
Jane, however, was not in the mood for reason. "I think it's the best to find out right now," she said, all but jumping to her feet as she picked up the phone.
Angela picked up on the fifth ring, but sounded wide awake instantly. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
Not physically, Jane thought. "No, I'm not."
"It's the middle of the night. What's wrong then?"
"You tell me, Ma. You tell me about Lindsay Boxer."
There was stunned silence on the other end of the line, just as Jane had expected. She waited. Silence was a powerful means in an interrogation. "I don't know what you're talking about," Angela finally said, a hint of defensiveness to her voice.
"I think you do. I want the truth."
"But Janie, don't you think we should--"
"No!" She flinched at her slightly shrill tone. "This isn't a coincidence. I have to know what it means. Don't lie to me now."
Angela sighed. "We were trying to protect our family, you know? But I think since your Dad has given up on that, it doesn't count anymore."
"Dad." Jane felt lightheaded. "Is he really my father?"
Angela's silence was all the answer she needed.Jane closed her eyes for a moment. Maybe Gabriel had been right, and this was a bit too much of the truth for one day. "Okay, then who is?"
"You don't have to sound so judgmental," her mother said. "Dad - Frankie - last year wasn't the first time he cheated on me. I was hurt. I took Michael and went away for a while, stayed with a friend who was studying in San Francisco."
Jesus.
"Marty wasn't exactly the most reliable man, but he was kind, and spending time with him I'd forget that I felt - trapped. That was, until I found out that he had a wife who was pregnant."
Jane blushed as she looked up into Gabriel's sympathetic gaze, feeling mortified even though he couldn't hear the other side of the conversation. There were some things you didn't want your parents to share, but she had no choice now. "Just don't tell me we're twins," she said wearily.
"Of course not, but you are less than a year apart."
"Does Dad... Frank, does he know?"
"He does," Angela simply said.
"Okay. Thanks, I guess."
"Regina's fine, too, in case you wanted to know."
Her mother's continuously defensive tone made Jane's temper boil over. "Well, thanks for telling me something right away after all! Do you know where he is now? I want to talk to him."
"You can't. Marty was shot a couple of years ago."
"What?" She slumped into the armchair, feeling defeated. Another dead end. Literally.
"I'm so sorry." Angela hesitated for a few heartbeats, then she asked, "Lindsay, have you met her?"
"I can't. She's missing." Disconnecting the call, she flipped her cell phone shut and leaned her head against the backrest for a moment. "Just great. Turns out the man I thought of as my father, isn't, and my real father has been dead for two years. My sister might not live long enough for me to meet her. I hate San Francisco already."
That, and she was already questioning the wisdom of trying to clear things up with Angela in the dead of night. Gabriel didn't comment on that, just pulled her close. This was one of the things she loved about him, Jane thought, leaning into his embrace. He wouldn't say, 'told you so'. Even if he possibly thought it.
***
It was not the kind of conversation Tom would have liked to have at 6 AM in the morning, but Detective Rizzoli seemed determined.
"I need to be on this case, Lieutenant. It's the logical conclusion. Hoyt tried to kill me more than once, now these people claim to murder in his honor. I know how they are thinking. You need me."
Tom studied the Boston Homicide detective for a moment, struck by an intense feeling of déjà-vu. Jane Rizzoli didn't just look like Lindsay, she acted with the same attitude. The last thing he needed now was to be reminded of the Kiss-Me-Not case, but Tom had to admit it was back on all of their minds from the moment it was clear that Lindsay's disappearance was due to a crime.
"I'll have to clear it with your supervisor," he said.
"I talked to him," Rizzoli said immediately, holding out her cell phone. "You'll just have to confirm; he's waiting for your call. They wanted me," she added, quieter. "I owe it to Lindsay."
"Emotions like that can get in the way."
If it sounded paronizing, Tom didn't care at the moment. He was testing her, that much was for sure. He was not going to make the same mistake twice.
Tom was treated to a very familiar glare. "If that's the case, then you shouldn't be on this case. Or so I've been told."
He nearly smiled at this not so subtle hint at 'club' grapevine. It wasn't surprising that Jane Rizzoli could go to places that Maggie Snow or Denise Kwon never would. The insinuation, however, would have been reason enough for him to just send her on her way, technically, but she was Lindsay's sister after all as they had learned earlier. She seemed to share her work ethics, too. Truth be told if she could give them an edge with these perps, then it was worth a try.
Jane waited while he was making the call.
***
Alone in the oppressive dark that felt like falling into black nothingness, Lindsay slowly calmed her breathing, trying to find a place in her mind where the nausea and pain wouldn't reach and she'd find the resolve she'd need when the moment arose. To survive. To escape.
In order to achieve that, she couldn't let herself be distracted by anything.
***
Jill had come to her office, some minutes of time before she was due in court, but she wasn't granted a few moments in peace. Which was due to Lindsay being on her mind all of the time, that was a given. She was also completely caught off guard by the visitor. "Maggie. Hi."
At Jill's guarded expression, Maggie let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't be afraid, this isn't a social visit. You might remember I still work in this building too."
"I'm sorry." Jill raked a hand through her hair, trying to hide her sudden nervousness. It didn't mean anything, she told herself. With what was weighing on all of their minds, she didn't need another reason. "What do you need?"
"Richardson." Maggie kept the conversation businesslike. "I need a warrant for all his premises, how soon can you do that?"
"On your desk after lunch. I'll be in court this morning, but I'll get on it." At least some things were less complicated these days. She gave her ex-girlfriend a brief smile.
"Thanks," Maggie said and turned to go, but she halted in the doorway, turning around, hesitating.
Jill looked up at her questioningly.
"You know, the gal from Boston? I have to say I'm mildly offended. I hear you took her down to the morgue, and now Lieutenant Hogan approved her to be on the case. She didn't need long to get into the club."
"She's not..." It was Jill's turn to sigh. She knew Maggie wasn't kidding; her disappointment was heartfelt. And worse, she probably had a reason to feel that way even if they all had graver problems at the moment. "Close the door, please."
Maggie did as she'd been told, leaning against the doorframe.
"I shouldn't tell you this, but... Jane is Lindsay's sister."
Maggie's lips quirked into a wry grin. "Like I couldn't tell from the looks and the attitude. What kind of cop do you think I am?"
"I'm sorry." Jill couldn't help but chuckle, and she was kind of grateful. There hadn't been a moment to relax in what seemed like forever. For sure, the sentiment was gone soon enough. Maggie seemed to sense her shift in mood. She walked a few steps further into the room, her expression serious. "Look, if you need anything... this is not about you and me. Lindsay's one of our own."
"I know. Thanks."
"It's going to be alright. Those guys are nowhere near--"
"I'm okay," Jill cut her off, not wanting to hear the names that were on the tip of Maggie's tongue, not wanting to finish the thought that even if the perps were the beginners they thought them to be, there's no guarantee they haven't killed her already. "Let me work on those warrants you need now?"
"Sure. Thanks again," Maggie said somewhat coolly. "Just call if you need me for anything."
***
He was back too soon. "I found it online," he whispered. "Hoyt's private library. You use wet rope, because when it dries, it's gonna cut deeper into the skin."
"That's clever," she said, stiffening when his fingers touched the raw skin around the rope. "I bet you're getting all the straight A's." Lindsay readied herself for the blow, but it didn't come. He laughed at her instead.
"You'll lose that attitude yet, I promise."
It wasn't exactly the words, but their tone, the forced intimacy of the two of them in the dark that made her skin crawl. Lindsay sat up straighter even though any movement made the rope catch on already broken skin. She wondered how deep it was and if she could possibly bleed to death from this.
"Nothing left to say, Inspector Boxer?"
"Why, it seems to me that you enjoy hearing yourself talk."
A few seconds ticked by, cold sweat snaking down her spine as she waited, holding her breath. He grabbed her hair and gave a sharp tug, his action deliberate, not really a reaction to her words. She had found that inner calm though to push aside the flashbacks, the dire reality and her own fear.
She knew she would return to her home, to her life, to Cindy. She had survived Pete's fantasy. She would survive this.
When he drew the scalpel across her hand, lightly but with enough pressure to draw a crimson line, Lindsay barely flinched. The next cut he'd make in prison - in his fantasy.
He leaned close enough for his lips to almost brush her neck as he spoke. "Why don't we talk about what else Warren inspired me to? You think I'm his admirer, a copycat? Think twice, Inspector. They caught him. Twice. I am here."
Not for much longer, she thought, but this time she was wise enough not to say it out loud.
***
Jane hated waiting, but there wasn't much of a choice as they were waiting for results from the FBI lab. She was supposed to meet with Maggie Snow in twenty minutes. Jill Bernhardt was currently in court, Dr. Washburn was doing an autopsy.
The impact of the facts she'd learned the night before were finally starting to sink in as much as the realization that time was running out on them. She'd wanted in on the case. Seeing the situation through a cop's eyes, it looked dire. With Gabriel busy as well and Lindsay's friends dealing with fears of her own, she found herself wondering where she could turn.
She went through the numbers in the address book of her cell phone, then hit 'call'.
"Hey Doc. How's it going?"
Maura sounded surprised to hear her voice. "I thought you were enjoying a belated honeymoon. You miss Boston already?"
Jane sighed. "I don't even know where to start." Eventually, she picked the most disturbing fact. "They've got a body here with hoyt's MO and a detective missing. Who, as it turns out, is my long lost sister."
"Wow," Maura said quietly. "That's a lot to take in."
"Tell me about it. I guess... I'm calling you because you can most sympathize about that kind of situation."
The ME's sister, however, had been dead; Maura had seen her first on a slab in the morgue. There was an image and a horrible possibility hanging in the air.
"I'm sorry, I should have brought this up."
"I understand," Maura said softly. "It's okay. Do you have any idea what happened to her?"
"The ones who killed the woman, Hoyt's style. They took her." Jane hesitated for a moment. "They mistook her for me."
"It's not your fault. You know that, right? Jane?"
She did, and so, most likely, did everyone else, but Jane found she was utterly relieved to have somebody say it out loud. She didn't get to answer Maura's question though as the next moment, Jill came nearly running towards her.
"We've got the bastards," she said grimly.
"Maura? I've got to go."
Author: Demeter
Fandom: Women's Murder Club/ Rizzoli & Isles
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy
Summary: As the search for Lindsay continues, Jane learns some startling facts.
A/N: Set in the VS universe, about half a year after episode 3x8.
Disclaimer: Jane, Gabriel, Maura and O' Donnell belong to Tess Gerritsen and soon TNT. The WMC folks are James Patterson's and ABC's. Maggie Snow belongs to the wmc_vs team, so partly to me. :P
Part 1
Part 2
Contiued from:
The look he gave her would have been sympathetic on another person's face, as it was, the malice shone through. "You said you read about Warren, right? Do you know what he did? Yes?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Well, I guess you're going to find out either way. Soon."
She neither had the wish nor the time to go there now. The next moment, he pressed a damp cloth into her face, the smell just barely registering with her before the room started spinning.
He tossed the cloth into the trashcan, whistling. "Why, Warren," he said to himself. "I'm not gonna be an apprentice of yours. I'm gonna be you. It's just that I'm getting away with it."
***
Cindy had disappered for a few minutes but was back when they later regrouped in Dr. Washburn's office. She also had some information she'd found online. "There are people who meet to pray for David Arnold's immortal soul. There's an online roleplay game called Kiss-Me-Not in honor of--" She broke off, unshed angry tears glistening in her eyes. "And we thought they were insane."
For a moment, Jane wondered how all of this connected, until she continued.
"I'm sorry." Cindy took a deep breath. "About Warren Hoyt, he's got his followers, too. I found 4 chatrroms and 57 websites relating to him. Those were just the more extreme ones."
Jane was glad that both the attorney, Bernhardt, and Dr. Washburn were focused on their friend, so they missed the impact Cindy's words had on her. She'd be the last to deny that there were crazy people out there, but it became harder and harder to draw the line. What did you know? The next person at the supermarket's cash register might fantasize about cutting out some of your inner organs. Way to make a person paranoid. Only that it wasn't paranoia when they already had a body in the morgue with The Surgeon's MO.
Violence against women had a long, gruesome history, one that Warren Hoyt had educated himself in. "Anything standing out?"
"Not yet. I thought we could go over it together... there's not much more we have at the moment." Cindy was trying hard not to sound scared and dejected, and failing.
Jane decided that Gabriel would have it covered on the other end, one of his contacts already assisting the PD with access to their database. "I'll come with you."
***
"Could you wait a minute?" Cindy asked after she'd parked in front of the apartment building. "I just need to get Martha back from the neighbors."
"You have a child?" Jane asked, surprised. She remembered the photograph in the wallet; no kids' pictures there.
Cindy Thomas gave her a tired smile. "Not quite. Martha is a dog. I'll be right back."
She returned to the front door a few minutes later with the Border Collie by her side. Jane wasn't much into dogs, but she figured she could at least go for some platitudes. "My, you're pretty."
Martha backed up a little, growling at her while Cindy unlocked the door.
Jane shook her head at the dog. "Well, at least you've got some sense about you," she mumbled, following her temporary host inside. Leave it to a dog to be able to tell the difference right away.
An eerie feeling got hold of her as she walked along the hallway and into the spacious living room. From the color of the wallpaper to the lamp to the carpet in the middle of the room, it looked too damn much like the apartment she and Gabriel shared. "It's... nice."
Cindy shrugged, a somber look on her pretty face. "Most of it is rather new. We kind of had to move twice in the past year." There were clearly some bad memories involved, but Jane didn't ask. As it was, she had enough bad memories to deal with on her own. However, she remembered the names mentioned by Cindy in the morgue this morning: David Arnold and Pete Raynor.
It seemed like Lindsay had a Warren Hoyt of her own. Monsters weren't that rare.
"How about I'll get us some coffee and we continue with the websites? Claire has me on speed dial if she finds out anything."
She disappeared into the kitchen rather quickly while Jane picked up the printouts and started to read. She cringed at the chat transcript where someone had picked w_hoyt as a user name. Not that it was very original, but stupidity and a penchant for violence was a dangerous combination. Smarts and violent fantasies, even worse. They internet was a Goddamn playground for these people.
A few minutes ticked by before Jane realized that Cindy still hadn't returned from the kitchen. She laid the papers aside, got up and walked to the door, opening it softly. "Are you okay?"
Cindy turned to her with red-rimmed eyes. "No. I'm not okay. I just can't go through this again." She was trembling with the effort to hold back the tears.
As someone who worked to bring justice to the dead, Jane had made a habit of distancing herself from the living's grief and pain, a simple survival measure. She found it impossible to turn away from Cindy though, so she stepped forward and hesitantly embraced the younger woman, awkward as it was for both of them.
When the sounds of the coffemaker announced the coffee ready, Cindy withdrew, giving her a somewhat sad smile not quite revealing to Jane if she had helped at all or just turned the knife.
***
Jane had asked Cindy for a photograph of her 'twin' which the younger woman had reluctantly handed to her, and she showed it to Gabriel later. While he wasn't one to jump to conclusions, he admitted that the resemblance was too strong to be a coincdence. However, if that was true, there was only one person who could give them all the answers now. Jane clearly had enough of the mystery. If the woman missing and most likely in the hands of some psychopaths wanna-be playing Warren Hoyt was related to her in any way, she thought she had the right to know. Now.
"See, Jane, you're tired," Gabriel said reasonably. "This has to come as a shock for you, so maybe it would be better to wait until you've adjusted to the idea some more."
Jane, however, was not in the mood for reason. "I think it's the best to find out right now," she said, all but jumping to her feet as she picked up the phone.
Angela picked up on the fifth ring, but sounded wide awake instantly. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
Not physically, Jane thought. "No, I'm not."
"It's the middle of the night. What's wrong then?"
"You tell me, Ma. You tell me about Lindsay Boxer."
There was stunned silence on the other end of the line, just as Jane had expected. She waited. Silence was a powerful means in an interrogation. "I don't know what you're talking about," Angela finally said, a hint of defensiveness to her voice.
"I think you do. I want the truth."
"But Janie, don't you think we should--"
"No!" She flinched at her slightly shrill tone. "This isn't a coincidence. I have to know what it means. Don't lie to me now."
Angela sighed. "We were trying to protect our family, you know? But I think since your Dad has given up on that, it doesn't count anymore."
"Dad." Jane felt lightheaded. "Is he really my father?"
Angela's silence was all the answer she needed.Jane closed her eyes for a moment. Maybe Gabriel had been right, and this was a bit too much of the truth for one day. "Okay, then who is?"
"You don't have to sound so judgmental," her mother said. "Dad - Frankie - last year wasn't the first time he cheated on me. I was hurt. I took Michael and went away for a while, stayed with a friend who was studying in San Francisco."
Jesus.
"Marty wasn't exactly the most reliable man, but he was kind, and spending time with him I'd forget that I felt - trapped. That was, until I found out that he had a wife who was pregnant."
Jane blushed as she looked up into Gabriel's sympathetic gaze, feeling mortified even though he couldn't hear the other side of the conversation. There were some things you didn't want your parents to share, but she had no choice now. "Just don't tell me we're twins," she said wearily.
"Of course not, but you are less than a year apart."
"Does Dad... Frank, does he know?"
"He does," Angela simply said.
"Okay. Thanks, I guess."
"Regina's fine, too, in case you wanted to know."
Her mother's continuously defensive tone made Jane's temper boil over. "Well, thanks for telling me something right away after all! Do you know where he is now? I want to talk to him."
"You can't. Marty was shot a couple of years ago."
"What?" She slumped into the armchair, feeling defeated. Another dead end. Literally.
"I'm so sorry." Angela hesitated for a few heartbeats, then she asked, "Lindsay, have you met her?"
"I can't. She's missing." Disconnecting the call, she flipped her cell phone shut and leaned her head against the backrest for a moment. "Just great. Turns out the man I thought of as my father, isn't, and my real father has been dead for two years. My sister might not live long enough for me to meet her. I hate San Francisco already."
That, and she was already questioning the wisdom of trying to clear things up with Angela in the dead of night. Gabriel didn't comment on that, just pulled her close. This was one of the things she loved about him, Jane thought, leaning into his embrace. He wouldn't say, 'told you so'. Even if he possibly thought it.
***
It was not the kind of conversation Tom would have liked to have at 6 AM in the morning, but Detective Rizzoli seemed determined.
"I need to be on this case, Lieutenant. It's the logical conclusion. Hoyt tried to kill me more than once, now these people claim to murder in his honor. I know how they are thinking. You need me."
Tom studied the Boston Homicide detective for a moment, struck by an intense feeling of déjà-vu. Jane Rizzoli didn't just look like Lindsay, she acted with the same attitude. The last thing he needed now was to be reminded of the Kiss-Me-Not case, but Tom had to admit it was back on all of their minds from the moment it was clear that Lindsay's disappearance was due to a crime.
"I'll have to clear it with your supervisor," he said.
"I talked to him," Rizzoli said immediately, holding out her cell phone. "You'll just have to confirm; he's waiting for your call. They wanted me," she added, quieter. "I owe it to Lindsay."
"Emotions like that can get in the way."
If it sounded paronizing, Tom didn't care at the moment. He was testing her, that much was for sure. He was not going to make the same mistake twice.
Tom was treated to a very familiar glare. "If that's the case, then you shouldn't be on this case. Or so I've been told."
He nearly smiled at this not so subtle hint at 'club' grapevine. It wasn't surprising that Jane Rizzoli could go to places that Maggie Snow or Denise Kwon never would. The insinuation, however, would have been reason enough for him to just send her on her way, technically, but she was Lindsay's sister after all as they had learned earlier. She seemed to share her work ethics, too. Truth be told if she could give them an edge with these perps, then it was worth a try.
Jane waited while he was making the call.
***
Alone in the oppressive dark that felt like falling into black nothingness, Lindsay slowly calmed her breathing, trying to find a place in her mind where the nausea and pain wouldn't reach and she'd find the resolve she'd need when the moment arose. To survive. To escape.
In order to achieve that, she couldn't let herself be distracted by anything.
***
Jill had come to her office, some minutes of time before she was due in court, but she wasn't granted a few moments in peace. Which was due to Lindsay being on her mind all of the time, that was a given. She was also completely caught off guard by the visitor. "Maggie. Hi."
At Jill's guarded expression, Maggie let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't be afraid, this isn't a social visit. You might remember I still work in this building too."
"I'm sorry." Jill raked a hand through her hair, trying to hide her sudden nervousness. It didn't mean anything, she told herself. With what was weighing on all of their minds, she didn't need another reason. "What do you need?"
"Richardson." Maggie kept the conversation businesslike. "I need a warrant for all his premises, how soon can you do that?"
"On your desk after lunch. I'll be in court this morning, but I'll get on it." At least some things were less complicated these days. She gave her ex-girlfriend a brief smile.
"Thanks," Maggie said and turned to go, but she halted in the doorway, turning around, hesitating.
Jill looked up at her questioningly.
"You know, the gal from Boston? I have to say I'm mildly offended. I hear you took her down to the morgue, and now Lieutenant Hogan approved her to be on the case. She didn't need long to get into the club."
"She's not..." It was Jill's turn to sigh. She knew Maggie wasn't kidding; her disappointment was heartfelt. And worse, she probably had a reason to feel that way even if they all had graver problems at the moment. "Close the door, please."
Maggie did as she'd been told, leaning against the doorframe.
"I shouldn't tell you this, but... Jane is Lindsay's sister."
Maggie's lips quirked into a wry grin. "Like I couldn't tell from the looks and the attitude. What kind of cop do you think I am?"
"I'm sorry." Jill couldn't help but chuckle, and she was kind of grateful. There hadn't been a moment to relax in what seemed like forever. For sure, the sentiment was gone soon enough. Maggie seemed to sense her shift in mood. She walked a few steps further into the room, her expression serious. "Look, if you need anything... this is not about you and me. Lindsay's one of our own."
"I know. Thanks."
"It's going to be alright. Those guys are nowhere near--"
"I'm okay," Jill cut her off, not wanting to hear the names that were on the tip of Maggie's tongue, not wanting to finish the thought that even if the perps were the beginners they thought them to be, there's no guarantee they haven't killed her already. "Let me work on those warrants you need now?"
"Sure. Thanks again," Maggie said somewhat coolly. "Just call if you need me for anything."
***
He was back too soon. "I found it online," he whispered. "Hoyt's private library. You use wet rope, because when it dries, it's gonna cut deeper into the skin."
"That's clever," she said, stiffening when his fingers touched the raw skin around the rope. "I bet you're getting all the straight A's." Lindsay readied herself for the blow, but it didn't come. He laughed at her instead.
"You'll lose that attitude yet, I promise."
It wasn't exactly the words, but their tone, the forced intimacy of the two of them in the dark that made her skin crawl. Lindsay sat up straighter even though any movement made the rope catch on already broken skin. She wondered how deep it was and if she could possibly bleed to death from this.
"Nothing left to say, Inspector Boxer?"
"Why, it seems to me that you enjoy hearing yourself talk."
A few seconds ticked by, cold sweat snaking down her spine as she waited, holding her breath. He grabbed her hair and gave a sharp tug, his action deliberate, not really a reaction to her words. She had found that inner calm though to push aside the flashbacks, the dire reality and her own fear.
She knew she would return to her home, to her life, to Cindy. She had survived Pete's fantasy. She would survive this.
When he drew the scalpel across her hand, lightly but with enough pressure to draw a crimson line, Lindsay barely flinched. The next cut he'd make in prison - in his fantasy.
He leaned close enough for his lips to almost brush her neck as he spoke. "Why don't we talk about what else Warren inspired me to? You think I'm his admirer, a copycat? Think twice, Inspector. They caught him. Twice. I am here."
Not for much longer, she thought, but this time she was wise enough not to say it out loud.
***
Jane hated waiting, but there wasn't much of a choice as they were waiting for results from the FBI lab. She was supposed to meet with Maggie Snow in twenty minutes. Jill Bernhardt was currently in court, Dr. Washburn was doing an autopsy.
The impact of the facts she'd learned the night before were finally starting to sink in as much as the realization that time was running out on them. She'd wanted in on the case. Seeing the situation through a cop's eyes, it looked dire. With Gabriel busy as well and Lindsay's friends dealing with fears of her own, she found herself wondering where she could turn.
She went through the numbers in the address book of her cell phone, then hit 'call'.
"Hey Doc. How's it going?"
Maura sounded surprised to hear her voice. "I thought you were enjoying a belated honeymoon. You miss Boston already?"
Jane sighed. "I don't even know where to start." Eventually, she picked the most disturbing fact. "They've got a body here with hoyt's MO and a detective missing. Who, as it turns out, is my long lost sister."
"Wow," Maura said quietly. "That's a lot to take in."
"Tell me about it. I guess... I'm calling you because you can most sympathize about that kind of situation."
The ME's sister, however, had been dead; Maura had seen her first on a slab in the morgue. There was an image and a horrible possibility hanging in the air.
"I'm sorry, I should have brought this up."
"I understand," Maura said softly. "It's okay. Do you have any idea what happened to her?"
"The ones who killed the woman, Hoyt's style. They took her." Jane hesitated for a moment. "They mistook her for me."
"It's not your fault. You know that, right? Jane?"
She did, and so, most likely, did everyone else, but Jane found she was utterly relieved to have somebody say it out loud. She didn't get to answer Maura's question though as the next moment, Jill came nearly running towards her.
"We've got the bastards," she said grimly.
"Maura? I've got to go."