The Keepsake: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

to the third floor. By now the medical examiner and the CSU team had arrived, carrying all their paraphernalia, and the building echoed with the voices and the creaking footsteps of an invading army, the sounds spiraling up the central stairwell. She paused at the top, suddenly weary and sick of blood and death and failure.
    Most of all, failure.
    The perfectly grilled steak that she had eaten at her mother’s house just hours before now felt like an undigested brick in her stomach. From one minute to the next, she thought; that’s how quickly a pleasant summer Sunday can turn into tragedy.
    She walked through the gallery of human bones, past the skeletal mother cradling the fragments of her child, and headed up the hallway toward the administrative offices. Through an open doorway, she spotted Barry Frost sitting alone in one of the offices, his shoulders slumped, his head in his hands.
    “Frost?” she said.
    Reluctantly he straightened, and she was startled to see that his eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. He turned away, as though embarrassed that she’d glimpsed his anguish, and he quickly swiped a sleeve across his face.
    “Jesus,” she said. “What happened to you?”
    He shook his head. “I can’t do this. I need to be taken off the case.”
    “You want to tell me what went wrong?”
    “I fucked up. That’s what went wrong.”
    Seldom did she hear him use profanity, and hearing that word from his lips surprised her even more than his confession. She entered the room and shut the door. Then she pulled over a chair and sat down facing him directly so that he would be forced to look at her.
    “You were supposed to escort her home tonight. Weren’t you?”
    He nodded. “It was my turn.”
    “So why didn’t you get here?”
    “It slipped my mind,” he said softly.
    “You
forgot
?”
    He released a tortured sigh. “Yes, I
forgot.
I should have been here at six, but I got sidetracked. That’s why I can’t work this case anymore. I need to take a leave of absence.”
    “Okay, you screwed up. But we’ve got a missing woman here, and I need all hands on deck.”
    “I’m worthless to you right now. I’ll just fuck up again.”
    “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re falling apart right when I need you the most.”
    “Alice wants a divorce,” he said.
    She stared at him, unable to come up with an adequate response. If ever there were a time to give her partner a hug, this would be it. But she’d never hugged him before, and it felt fake to start doing it now. So she just said, “Oh man, I’m sorry.”
    “She flew home this afternoon,” he said. “That’s why I didn’t make it to your barbecue. She came home to break the news in person. At least she was nice enough to say it to my face. And not over the phone.” Again, he wiped a sleeve across his face. “I knew something had to be wrong. I could feel it building, ever since she started law school. After that, nothing I did or said seemed to interest her anymore. It was like I’m just this dumb cop she happened to marry, and now she regrets it.”
    “Did she actually say that to you?”
    “She didn’t have to. I heard it in her voice.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Nine years we’re together, and suddenly I’m not good enough for her.”
    Jane couldn’t help but ask the obvious question. “So who’s the other guy?”
    “What difference does it make if there’s another guy? The point is, she doesn’t want to be married. Not to me, anyway.” His face crumpled and he shook from the effort not to cry. But the tears came anyway and he rocked forward, his head in his hands. Jane had never seen him so broken, so vulnerable, and it almost frightened her. She didn’t know how to comfort him. At that moment, she would rather have been anywhere else, even at the bloodiest of crime scenes, instead of trapped in this room with a sobbing man. It occurred to her that she should take his weapon. Guns and depressed men did not mix well. Would he be insulted if she did? Would he resist? All these practical considerations ran through her head as she patted him on the shoulder and murmured useless sounds of commiseration.
Screw Alice. I never liked her anyway. Now the bitch has gone and made my life miserable as well.
    Frost suddenly rose from the chair and started toward the door. “I need to get out of here.”
    “Where are you going?”
    “I don’t know. Home.”
    “Look, I’m going to call Gabriel. You come and stay with us