John Doe (A Rizzoli and Isles short story) (Rizzoli & Isles)
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It should have been a night to remember, but Maura Isles can’t recall a thing.
Maura is at a party. A handsome man approaches. He’s charming and sophisticated. She flirts and drinks champagne. And then nothing. Total blackness. Nothing, that is, apart from these two facts: a man is dead and her address is found in his pocket . . .
her id, released from her darkest subconscious, emerged to take control? Maybe I am not so different from my mother after all. Shaken by the possibility, she closed her eyes, hunting for the flimsiest strand of a memory. Glimpsed lights, heard a voice, distant as an echo. But nothing solid, nothing she could grasp and hold on to. If I killed him, would I recognize the place where it happened? She barely murmured a goodbye to Louise as she walked out, and once again felt her colleagues
was impossible; they had never met. “How do you know my name?” he asked. “I know your daughter was one of his victims.” She gestured down the riverbank, where Scanlon’s body had been found. “I read the article in the Globe. How you threatened him, after she …” Her voice trailed off. He finished the painful thought for her. “After she killed herself.” “I’m so sorry, Mr. O’Brien. I can’t imagine how horrible it is to lose a child.” “No one can. Until it happens. Then it’s all you think about,
punched into O’Brien’s chest, sent him slamming backward against the bookcase. He leaned there staring at them for a moment, an odd smile on his lips, the gun already falling from his hand. Slowly he slid down to the floor, and Sarah dropped to her knees beside him, sobbing, screaming. He had not fired a single shot. Maura crouched over the body, felt for a pulse, and began CPR. But staring into O’Brien’s eyes, Jane saw the light fade away. And she knew there was nothing left to save. A day
the gallery noticed Sarah wasn’t acting right as she got into the man’s car, so she wrote down Scanlon’s license number. That’s how they ID’d him.” “How did that case not end in a conviction?” “Scanlon claimed he only gave Sarah a lift home and left her there.” “If she was raped, didn’t they have his DNA?” “Here’s the part that’s weird. There was male DNA found inside Sarah. But it wasn’t Scanlon’s. And she didn’t have a boyfriend.” Jane stared at him. “Someone else raped her?” Frost
lost. She never stopped blaming herself. Such a smart girl, yet she felt so stupid.” “She was hardly responsible for what happened,” said Frost. “You think I didn’t tell her that a thousand times?” O’Brien shot back. His anger suddenly collapsed and he dropped his head. “She used my gun. So I blame myself, too. I could see how depressed she was and I should have gotten rid of it. I just didn’t think she’d ever …” He shook his head and sighed. “There’s plenty of guilt to go around. But Scanlon’s