Vanish: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

grunting, every muscle straining as sweat slid into her eyes.
    “That’s it,” the doctor said. “Almost there . . .”
    Come on, baby. Stop being so goddamn stubborn. Help your mama out!
    She was on the edge of a scream now, her throat about to burst. Then, suddenly, she felt blood rush out between her legs. Heard angry cries, like the howling of a cat.
    “We’ve got her!” the doctor said.
    Her?
    Gabriel was laughing, his voice hoarse with tears. He pressed his lips to Jane’s hair. “A girl. We’ve got a little girl.”
    “She’s a feisty one,” the doctor said. “Look at this.”
    Jane turned her head to see tiny fists waving, a face pink with anger. And dark hair—lots of dark hair, plastered in wet curls to the scalp. She watched, awestruck, as the nurse dried off the infant and wrapped it in a blanket.
    “Would you like to hold her, Mom?”
    Jane could not say a word; her throat had closed down. She could only stare in wonder as the bundle was placed in her arms. She looked down at a face that was swollen from crying. The baby squirmed, as though impatient to be free of its blanket. Of its mother’s arms.
    Are you really mine?
She had imagined this would be a moment of instant familiarity, when she would stare into her newborn’s eyes and recognize the soul there. But there was no sense of familiarity here, only clumsiness, as she tried to soothe the struggling bundle. All she saw, looking at her daughter, was an angry creature with puffy eyes and clenched fists. A creature who suddenly gave a scream of protest.
    “You have a beautiful baby,” the nurse said. “She looks just like you.”

TWENTY-TWO
    Jane awakened to sunlight streaming through her hospital window. She looked at Gabriel, who slept on the cot next to her bed. In his hair she saw flecks of gray that she’d never noticed before. He wore the same wrinkled shirt from last night, the sleeve flecked with bloodstains.
    Whose blood?
    As though he’d sensed her watching him, he opened his eyes and squinted at her against the sunlight.
    “Good morning, Daddy,” she said.
    He gave her a weary smile. “I think Mommy needs to go back to sleep.”
    “I can’t.”
    “This may be our last chance to sleep in for a while. Once the baby’s home we’re not going to be getting much rest.”
    “I need to know, Gabriel. You haven’t told me what happened.”
    His smile faded. He sat up and rubbed his face, suddenly looking older, and infinitely tired. “They’re dead.”
    “Both of them?”
    “They were shot to death during the takedown. That’s what Captain Hayder told me.”
    “When did you talk to him?”
    “He came by last night. You were already asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
    She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. “I’m trying to remember. God, why can’t I remember anything?”
    “I can’t either, Jane. They used fentanyl gas on us. That’s what Maura was told.”
    She looked at him. “So you didn’t see it happen? You don’t know if Hayder told you the truth?”
    “I know that Joe and Olena are dead. The ME’s office has custody of their bodies.”
    Jane fell silent for a moment, trying to recall her last moments in that room. She remembered Gabriel and Joe, facing each other, talking. Joe wanted to tell us something, she thought. And he never got the chance to finish . . .
    “Did it have to end that way?” she asked. “Did they both have to be killed?”
    He rose to his feet and crossed to the window. Looking out, he said: “It was the one sure way to finish it.”
    “We were all unconscious. Killing them wasn’t necessary.”
    “Clearly the takedown team thought it was.”
    She stared at her husband’s back. “All those crazy things that Joe said. None of it was true, right?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “A microchip in Olena’s arm? The FBI chasing them? Those are classic paranoid delusions.”
    He didn’t answer.
    “Okay,” she said. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
    He turned to look at her. “Why was John Barsanti here? I never got a good answer to that question.”
    “Did you check with the Bureau?”
    “All I could get out of the deputy director’s office is that Barsanti is on special assignment with the Justice Department. No one would tell me anything else. And last night, when I spoke to David Silver at Senator Conway’s house, he wasn’t aware of any FBI involvement.”
    “Well, Joe certainly didn’t trust the FBI.”
    “And now Joe’s