Body Double

Maura nodded. Now you’re going to die, too.

“We both thought it was just psychotic rambling,” said Rizzoli. She looked down at Van Gates. “It seems pretty clear now that it was a warning. A threat.”

“Why? I don’t know any more than you do.”

“Maybe it’s because of who you are, Doc. Amalthea’s daughter.”

An icy wind swept up Maura’s spine. “My father,” she said softly. “If I really am her daughter, then who is my father?”

Rizzoli didn’t say Elijah Lank’s name; she didn’t need to.

“You’re the living proof of their partnership,” said Rizzoli. “Half your DNA is his.”

She locked her front door and turned the dead bolt. Paused there, thinking of A

Headlights trailed across the closed curtains of her living room. She glanced out and saw a police cruiser glide by. Not Brookline this time, but a patrol car with BOSTON POLICE DEPARTMENT emblazoned on the side. Rizzoli must have requested it, she thought.

She went into the kitchen and mixed herself a drink. Nothing fussy tonight, not her usual cosmopolitan, just orange juice and vodka and ice. She sat at the kitchen table and sipped it, ice cubes rattling in her glass. Drinking alone; not a good sign, but what the hell. She needed the anesthesia, needed to stop thinking of what she’d seen tonight. The air conditioner hissed its cool breath from the ceiling. No open windows tonight; everything was locked and secure. The cold glass chilled her fingers. She set it down and looked at her palm, at the pale blush of capillaries. Does their blood run in my veins?

The doorbell rang.

Her head snapped up; she turned toward the living room, her heart beating a quickstep, every muscle in her body rigid. Slowly she rose to her feet and moved soundlessly down the hall to the front door. Paused there, wondering how easily a bullet might penetrate that wood. She eased toward the side window and glanced out to see Ballard standing on her porch.

With a sigh of relief, she opened the door.

“I heard about Van Gates,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“A little shaken up. But I’m fine.” No I’m not. My nerves are shot, and I’m drinking alone in my kitchen. “Why don’t you come in?”

He had never been inside her house. He stepped in, closed the door, and eyed the dead bolt as he locked it. “You need to get a security system, Maura.”

“I’ve been pla

“Do it soon, okay?” He looked at her. “I can help you choose the best one.”

She nodded. “I’d appreciate the advice. Would you like a drink?”

“Not tonight, thanks.”

They went into the living room. He paused, looking at the piano in the corner. “I didn’t know you played.”

“Since I was a kid. I don’t practice nearly enough.”

“You know, A

“I didn’t know that. It’s so eerie, Rick, how every time I learn something new about her, she seems more and more like me.”

“She played beautifully.” He went to the piano, lifted the keyboard cover, and plunked out a few notes. Closed the cover again, and stood staring down at the gleaming black surface. He looked at her. “I’m worried about you, Maura. Especially tonight, after what happened to Van Gates.”

She sighed and sank onto the couch. “I’ve lost control of my life. I can’t even sleep with my windows open anymore.”

He sat down, too. Chose the chair facing her, so that if she raised her head, she would have to look at him. “I don’t think you should be alone here tonight.”

“This is my house. I’m not going to leave.”

“Then don’t leave.” A pause. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

Her gaze lifted to his. “Why are you doing this, Rick?”

“Because I think you need watching over.”

“And you’re the one to do it?”

“Who else is going to? Look at you! You live such a solitary life, all by yourself in this house. I think about you alone here, and it scares me, what could happen. When A

She looked down at his hands, covering hers. “You loved her, didn’t you?” When he didn’t answer, she looked up and met his gaze. “Didn’t you, Rick?”

“She needed me.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I couldn’t stand by and let her get hurt. Not by that man.”

I should have seen it from the begi

“If you’d seen her that night, in the ER,” he said. “The black eye, the bruises. I took one look at her face, and I wanted to beat the shit out of whoever did it. There aren’t many things that’ll make me lose it, Maura, but any man who hurts a woman-” He took a sharp breath. “I wasn’t going to let that happen to her again. But Cassell wouldn’t let go. He kept calling her, stalking her, so I had to step in. I helped her install some locks. Started dropping by every day, to check on her. Then one night, she asked me to stay for di

Especially when she’s an attractive woman.

“I tried to keep her safe, that’s all.” He looked at her. “So, yes. I ended up falling in love with her.”

“And what is this, Rick?” She looked at his hands, still grasping hers. “What’s happening here? Is this for me, or for her? Because I’m not A

“I’m here because you need me.”

“This is like a replay. You’ve cast yourself in the same role, as the guardian. And I’m just the understudy who happened to step into A

“It’s not like that.”

“What if you’d never known my sister, if you and I were just two people who’d met at a party? Would you still be here?”

“Yes. I would be.” He leaned toward her, his hands tight around hers. “I know I would be.”

For a moment they sat in silence. I want to believe him, she thought. It would be so easy to believe him.

But she said, “I don’t think you should stay here tonight.”

Slowly he straightened. His eyes were still on hers, but there was distance between them now. And disappointment.

She rose to her feet; so did he.

In silence they walked to the front door. There he paused and turned to her. Gently he lifted his hand to her face and cupped her face, a touch she did not flinch away from.

“Be careful,” he said, and walked out.

She locked the door behind him.

TWENTY-NINE

MATTIE ATE THE LAST STRIP of beef jerky. She gnawed it like a wild animal feeding on desiccated carrion, thinking: Protein for strength. For victory! She thought of athletes preparing for marathons, honing their bodies for the performance of their lives. This would be a marathon, too. One chance to win.

Lose, and you’re dead.

The jerky was like leather, and she almost gagged as she swallowed it, but she managed to wash it down with a gulp of water. The second jug was almost empty. I’m down to the bitter end, she thought; I can’t hold out much longer. And now she had a new worry: Her contractions were starting to get uncomfortable, like a fist squeezing down. It didn’t qualify as painful yet, but it was a harbinger of things to come.

Where was he, goddamn it? Why had he left her alone so long? With no watch to track the time, she didn’t know if it had been hours or days since his last visit. She wondered if she had made him angry when she’d yelled at him. Was this her punishment? Was he trying to scare her a little, make her understand that she had to be polite and show him some respect? All her life, she’d been polite, and look where it had gotten her. Polite girls got pushed around. They got stuck at the end of the line, where no one paid them any attention. They got married to men who promptly forgot they even existed. Well, I’m through being polite, she thought. If I ever get out of here, I’m going to grow a spine.