Chapter One

The nights were the hardest for Maura Isles. Cold winter nights especially, when she felt alone and in need of some company, but her social awkwardness often caused more problems than it was worth and so, she had gotten used to spending her nights alone.

Until she met Tiffany.

It was late one Friday night. She had been down in her lab for most of the day dealing with the usual comings and goings of the morgue. The last body to cross her table had left her emotionally drained, and all she could think about was getting home to a glass of chateau neuf de pap.

In need of a quick shot of caffeine, she had wandered inside the BPD café and joined the line. While she perused the small offering of wilting sandwiches, she could hear the ever-growing sounds of an argument further along the queue. Looking up, she could see the back of a rather tall, dark-haired woman. If she were a guessing woman, and she wasn't, she would think the woman up ahead would be what was commonly known as a woman of the night: a hooker.

Her interest was piqued. She could hear Stanley giving his opinion on her career choice and cringed at the judgemental way in which he spoke to her. All she wanted was a cup of coffee and a stale doughnut, but Stanley was becoming increasingly cantankerous.

Some people left the queue, and before Maura knew it she was delving into her bag and pulling out a pair of latex gloves. Slipping them on, she then reached back into her bag for her wallet, sliding a $10 bill out. She moved around the person in front of her, tapped 'Tiffany' on the shoulder, and waved the note at her.

"Do you mind?" She turned so fast that Maura had to take a step backwards. "You can get your non-fat latte in a minute, all right?"

"No, it's for you." Maura smiled, hoping the woman would find her offer charitable. But then she just couldn't help herself. "And given the vitamin D deficiency…likely from your, uh…from your night work…you're better off with some plain yoghurt and some leafy greens."

Tiffany glared at her. "I have my lice under control, thank you." Her voice was deep and husky, sexy even, as she sneered. "But Stanley here has psoriasis."

"Psoriasis isn't contagious, it's a genetic disease."

Tiffany stared at the latex glove-covered hands still holding the money out to her. "What about rudeness? Is that genetic too?" Her words hurt, hitting Maura like a sledgehammer. She wasn't trying to be rude, she wanted to help, but this was how it always was. Struggling with social cues, she often got it wrong.

"I was simply trying to be nice." She spoke calmly, but the feeling of humiliation only built within her.

"Well, not every hooker has a heart of gold, all right, sister?" Tiffany threw her barbed comment at her and then turned back to Stanley, but not before Maura threw her own comment back at her.

"Apparently not, Sister!" Forgetting all about the coffee she had been waiting in line for, she turned on her expensive heels and click-clacked her way out of the café.

~R&I~

It was a long half an hour later that Maura finally grabbed her coat, pulling it on as she locked the door to her office. She took the elevator back up to the lobby and walked quickly towards the door. The altercation with the prostitute was still on her mind. She couldn't shake it; the woman wasn't what she had expected a hooker would look like. She was attractive. Very attractive.

"Goodnight, Dr Isles," the officer coming in through the door said as she passed him. She was surprised by it and stuttered a quick reply as she headed out into the cold night air. She hadn't been working here for long, just a few weeks really. She barely knew anyone, though she was positive most people knew of her: Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

As she took the steps down to the sidewalk and turned left towards her where her car was parked, she saw her: the tall, lanky form of the hooker. Tiffany was up ahead, leaning back against the wall with one foot raised against it. The outfit was atrocious, Maura had concluded. Some faux fur nylon god-awful coat covered a purple monstrosity of a scarf that covered an equally horrible…well whatever it was she was wearing was on a par with the equally horrendous PVC skirt, but when she got as far as appraising the legs she found herself floundering. They were covered in tacky fishnets and matching PVC stiletto boots, but she couldn't help but feel a little aroused.

She kept her head down, not wishing to cause a confrontation here outside of her place of work.

"Hey, lady," Tiffany called out as she passed by her. Unsure if she was actually being spoken to, Maura ignored her and carried on. "Hey, I'm talking to you." She pushed off the wall and began walking towards Maura. The ME sped up, not wanting to get involved any further in any hostility. "Hey, come on, I just want to talk to you."

As she reached her car, she dipped into her bag for her keys. Finally, she found them. Her hand was shaking as she tried to pull them from her bag, only for them to snag on her wallet. When she yanked them, the wallet and her compact all fell out. The doctor scrambled quickly to the ground to pick the items up. So did Tiffany. "Hey, why'd ya run off like that?" she asked, handing over the expensive wallet.

When the doctor looked up and into the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen, she felt her breath escape her lungs. "Thank you…I, uh…I wasn't sure why you would want to speak with me," she answered, standing back up.

Tiffany stood too, her body between the doctor and her car. "So, you thought I was going to mug you or something?"

Her inability to read social cues didn't mean she was unable to read a person and their intentions. Tiffany wasn't showing any signs of being hostile. Not now anyway. The doctor found her confidence returning instantly.

"I had no idea what you might want, I just wanted to get home. It's been a rather…challenging day." She smiled casually at the woman. "And I am sure you have other things that you would rather be doing tonight."

"You think I wanna be out here in the cold, putting up with half-assed ugly guys trying to stiff me…in more ways than one." She grinned at her little innuendo, but then realised the good-looking woman in front of her hadn't gotten the joke. "So, anyway…look, I wanted to say thanks and apologise for… ya know, earlier. I was pissed with Stanley and you, you meant well…" She smiled again. When she did, the dimples appeared, and Maura found herself interested in them a little more. "Though, latex gloves? Really?"

"One can never be too careful," Maura answered, her own dimples making themselves known as she grinned.

"Yeah, well…I'm clean, just so we're clear on that."

"I am sure you are. And I apologise if my latex gloves said otherwise."

"Right, well just so long as that's cleared up, cos ya know…it's bad for business." She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. The temperature had dropped dramatically in the last few days.

Maura looked around; they were alone. "Look, why don't I give you a lift somewhere. I am sure you won't be doing any business here, next to the police department."

"Oh, thanks, but I uh…" She looked at her watch. It was nearly midnight on a Friday night. Only the drunks and perverts would be around now, not the kind of men she was trying to catch. She was brought from her thoughts by the woman talking to her.

"Of course, there is always the other option." Maura found herself looking into those eyes once more. "If I were to pay you for your…time?" She wanted to make sure that she used the right terminology, should anyone ever find out that she was about to proposition a hooker. "I mean, that's assuming that you take female…clients?"

"You, uh, you wanna pay me?"

"For your time, yes. Why not? I would enjoy the…company." She could tell that the dark-haired hooker was considering it, but she wasn't quite sold on the idea. "What are your rates?"

"Huh?"

"How much do you charge, for your time?"

"Uh, a hundred bucks," she threw out. It was way more than someone like her would charge, and hopefully it would be enough to put this put-together, well-classed and strikingly beautiful women off of continuing down this route.

"Right, so what you mean is $50 per hour, yes?" Maura Isles was many things, but a fool wasn't usually one of them.

"For the hour, yeah," Tiffany added quickly. She pulled at her coat again. It was freezing.

"Okay, I'll pay you for 48 hours. That's $2400, right?"

Tiffany looked dumbfounded at this woman who wanted to pay her for her time, what did that even mean?

"Look, lady…I dunno what you think this is but, I ain't gonna come around and keep house for you."

Maura chuckled. "Oh my, that is…" She looked her up and down. "That is an image." Sensing she was losing the woman's attention, she added, "Okay, do you have any better offers?" She raised her brow at her and waited, knowing there would be no answer. "I'm offering you a very simple and easy way to earn more money than you probably earn in month, and all you have to do is spend two days with me."

It wasn't as if the woman wasn't attractive. She was more than that. This was just a job for Tiffany. In the daylight, a woman like this was just the kind that she would be interested in. What would it hurt to have a little fun on the side?

"Alright." The raven-headed hooker swung her hips as she moved around the car to the passenger side. "Let's go."

AN: I will try and upload as often as possible! In the meantime, if you're looking for something to read. My latest novel, The Promise, Has just been released, YOu can find it on Amazon. Just search Claire Highton-Stevenson, Cheers