Body Double

“No, I’m just pointing out the parallels. A single gunshot wound to the head. Women in public jobs. It just makes you think.” Rizzoli struggled to her feet. It took some effort to push herself out of the easy chair. Frost was quick to offer her his hand, but she ignored it. Though heavily pregnant, Rizzoli was not one to reach for assistance. She hoisted her purse over her shoulder and gave Maura a searching look. “Do you want to stay somewhere else tonight?”

“This is my house. Why would I go anywhere else?”

“Just asking. I guess I don’t need to tell you to lock your doors.”

“I always do.”

Rizzoli looked at Eckert. “Can Brookline PD watch the house?”

He nodded. “I’ll make sure a patrol car comes by every so often.”

“I appreciate that,” said Maura. “Thank you.”

Maura accompanied the three detectives to the front door and watched them walk to their cars. It was now after midnight. Outside, the street had been transformed back into the quiet neighborhood she knew. The Brookline PD cruisers were gone; the Taurus had already been towed away to the crime lab. Even the yellow police tape had been removed. In the morning, she thought, I’ll wake up and think I imagined the whole thing.

She turned and faced Father Brophy, who was still standing in her foyer. She had never felt more uneasy in his company than at this moment, the two of them alone in her house. The possibilities surely swirled in both their heads. Or just mine? Late at night, alone in your bed, do you ever think of me, Daniel? The way I think of you?

“Are you sure you feel safe staying here alone?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine.” And what’s the alternative? That you spend the night with me? Is that what you’re offering?

He turned toward the door.

“Who called you here, Daniel?” she asked. “How did you know?”

He looked back at her. “Detective Rizzoli did. She told me…” He paused. “You know, I get calls like this all the time from the police. A death in the family, someone needs a priest. I’m always willing to respond. But this time…” He paused. “Lock your doors, Maura,” he said. “I don’t ever want to go through another night like this one.”

She watched him walk out of her house and climb into his car. He did not immediately start the engine; he was waiting to make sure that she was safely inside for the night.

She closed the door and locked it.

Through the living room window, she watched Daniel drive away. For a moment she stared at the empty curb, feeling suddenly abandoned. Wishing, at that moment, that she could call him back. And what would happen then? What did she want to happen between them? Some temptations, she thought, are best kept beyond our reach. She scanned the dark street one last time, then stepped away from the window, aware that she was framed by the light in her living room. She closed the curtains and went from room to room, checking the locks and the windows. On this warm June night, she would normally sleep with her bedroom window open. But tonight, she left the windows closed and turned on the air conditioner.

In the early morning she awakened, shivering from the chill air blowing out the vent. Her dreams had been of Paris. Of strolling under blue skies, past buckets of roses and star-gazer lilies, and for a moment, she did not remember where she was. Not in Paris any longer, but in my own bed, she realized. And something terrible has happened.

It was only five A.M., yet she felt wide awake. It’s eleven A.M. in Paris, she thought. There the sun is shining and if I were there now, I would already have had my second cup of coffee. She knew that jet lag would catch up with her later today, that this burst of early morning energy would be gone by afternoon, but she could not force herself to sleep any longer.

She rose and got dressed.

The street in front of her house looked the same as it always had. The first streaks of dawn lit the sky. She watched the lights come on in Mr. Telushkin’s house next door. He was an early riser, usually heading off to work at least an hour before she did, but this morning, she’d been the first to awaken, and she saw her neighborhood with fresh eyes. Saw the automatic sprinklers come on across the street, water hissing circles on the lawn. She saw the paperboy cycle past, baseball cap turned backward, and heard the thump of The Boston Globe hitting her front porch. Everything seems the same, she thought, but it’s not. Death has paid a visit to my neighborhood, and everyone who lives here will remember it. They will look out their front windows at the curb where the Taurus was parked, and shudder at how close it came to touching any one of us.

Headlights swung around the corner, and a vehicle drove along the street, slowing down as it approached her house. A Brookline police cruiser.

No, nothing is the same, she thought as she watched the cruiser drive past.

Nothing ever is.

She arrived at work before her secretary did. By six, Maura was at her desk, tackling the large stack of transcribed dictations and lab reports that had accumulated in her in-box during the week she had been at the Paris conference. She was already a third of the way through when she heard footsteps, and she looked up to see Louise standing in the doorway.

“You’re here,” Louise murmured.

Maura greeted her with a smile. “Bonjour! I thought I’d get an early start on all this paperwork.”

Louise just stared at her for a moment, then she came into the room and sat down in the chair facing Maura’s desk, as though she was suddenly too tired to stand. Though fifty years old, Louise always seemed to have twice the stamina of Maura, who was ten years younger. But this morning, Louise looked drained, her face thin and sallow under fluorescent lights.

“Are you all right, Dr. Isles?” Louise asked quietly.

“I’m fine. A little jet-lagged.”

“I mean-after what happened last night. Detective Frost sounded so sure it was you, in that car…”

Maura nodded, her smile fading. “It was like being in the Twilight Zone, Louise. Coming home to find all those police cars in front of my house.”

“It was awful. We all thought…” Louise swallowed and looked down at her lap. “I was so relieved when Dr. Bristol called me last night. To let me know it was a mistake.”

There was a silence, heavy with reproach. It suddenly dawned on Maura that she should have been the one to call her own secretary. She should have realized that Louise was shaken, and would want to hear her voice. I’ve been living alone and unattached for so long, she thought, that it doesn’t even occur to me that there are people in this world who might care what happens to me.

Louise stood up to leave. “I’m so glad to see you back, Dr. Isles. I just wanted to tell you that.”

“Louise?”

“Yes?”

“I brought you a little something back from Paris. I know this sounds like a lame excuse, but it’s packed in my suitcase. And the airline lost it.”

“Oh.” Louise laughed. “Well, if it’s chocolate, my hips certainly don’t need it.”

“Nothing caloric, I promise.” She glanced at the clock on her desk. “Is Dr. Bristol in yet?”

“He just got here. I saw him in the parking lot.”

“Do you know when he’s doing the autopsy?”

“Which one? He has two today.”

“The gunshot from last night. The woman.”

Louise gave her a long look. “I think that one is second on his schedule.”

“Do they know anything more about her?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Dr. Bristol.”

THREE