But she isn’t the murderer because the first person they interview is never the murderer. Also she puked all over the interrogation table after they showed her the victim’s bloody picture. And for that brief shining moment Frost wasn’t the biggest baby when it came to blood in all of Boston.
The detectives are puzzling over who the victim could be. Hockey mom? Sales woman? Circus clown? Monkey wrangler? The possibilities are endless because the killer took everything that could identify her, including her car. Jane knows she must have had a car because there is no public transit or taxi records in that area and she was wearing heels a person can only walk half a block in. See, Maura is rubbing off on Jane. She knows exactly the distance her girlfriend can walk in exactly what kind of heels. Also she’s been keeping her foot elevated, just like Maura told her to.
Just then who should interrupt them but Maura, with an emergency. Cailin is missing. Or, more accurately, Maura hasn’t talked to Cailin in four hours. So, by all means have your Boston Homicide detective girlfriend call the state troopers and put out a missing persons bulletin. Four hours of silence means she was clearly eaten by wolves and her bones were scattered across the high plains.
Oh, never mind, Cailin just walked in Maura’s front door. She was at a dangerous place called the library where they expect you to turn off your phone and read books. Crazy, I know. Maura grills her on where she was and what she was doing and why she’s such an irresponsible selfish teenager. Especially because she brought pot brownies to her house and hasn’t shared them. Kidding! She always shares.
Mama R comforts Maura and tells her that’s what sibling fights feel like. Actually sibling fights feel more like when you yell at your little sister and she retaliated by digging her own nails into her forearm and then running to mom saying you did it. Poor, Maura. She’s only ever engaged in adorable bickering with her girlfriend. The battleground of sister-on-sister violence is totally new to her.
The next morning Maura emerges – in a short silky robe, thanks wardrobe department – to find her kitchen has been overrun by co-eds. Cailin has two of her friends over and they’re making breakfast after pulling an all-nighter studying. Making breakfast is a little misleading. They’ve ripped open and scattered every ingredient in Maura’s kitchen across her counters.
Cailin gets all embarrassed about her friends seeing her big lezzie sister in her sexytimes robe. But her friends are like, dude, it’s 2013. Love is love, get over it. Then one of the girls ruins the moment by saying how great it is when women Maura’s age look good even without makeup. Ohhh. You in danger, gurl.
But before Maura can stab her to death with her glare, a long-haired vagrant walks into her kitchen. Sorry, not a vagrant, just a Santa Cruz student who was sleeping under the stars on her doorstep. So perhaps I was right in the first place? Kidding! They give their students real grades now and everything.
Maura is perturbed on so many levels. A 19-year-old just called her old. A hippie is eating pancakes in her kitchen. Cailin attempts to win her over with breakfast foods, which we all know are the secret peacemaker of the world. How can you be mad at the universe when there’s bacon to be eaten? Don’t worry, vegans, we’ll even substitute tofu bacon for you.
After Cailin and her crew leave, Maura is left to passive aggressively scrub down the kitchen with Mama R. Leave it to Maura to have the world’s cutest rubber kitchen gloves and apron. Mama R tells her she needs to set boundaries with Cailin, just like she never did with Jane. Can’t she just give Cailin a noogie and threaten her with wedgies if she doesn’t clean up after herself?