A/N: Soooo... Another story. I haven't forgotten Insights, but I'm having a hard time finding inspiration. This story was actually a dream at first. This first chapter is frankly not the best, but the following one will be much better ;)
It is an AU, and the characters may be a little OOC. And pardon the mistakes, I've tried my best.
Disclaimer: Still not mine.
When it came to Special Agent Patrick Jane, his coworkers usually used three adjectives to describe him: brilliant, broken and enigmatic. The twenty-three-year-old man had become a myth within the CBI. With more closed case to his credit than most of the experienced agents among the Bureau's staff, he was close to accessing to powerful positions within the CBI.
It must be said that he was one of the most hard-working agent. It was common knowledge that if he was working so hard, it was because it was all he had left to do. His wife and his one-year-old daughter were killed in a plane crash due to a terrorist attack when he was twenty years old. Six months later, he had followed a training to become a policeman, and ended up in the CBI, freshly created. Since then, he had been drowning into work, refusing to create any bonds, avoiding the eyes of the women and barely speaking to his coworkers. He usually worked alone, even if he was supposed to work with a team. He had this gift, this knowledge of people, and he could read everyone like an open book, which was why he was a precious asset to the CBI.
The only friend he had was Agent Kimball Cho. It was no wonder, though, for Cho wasn't much talkative either. Cho was in theory his boss; in practice, Jane was his own boss. As long as Jane didn't interfere in the team's business, Cho didn't interfere in Jane's business. It was the deal, and they were both happy with it. Jane sometimes helped the team when they were stuck, but that was all.
It was late when Cho finally decided to leave the building. He wasn't surprised to see Jane sitting at his desk, a cup of tea by his side, and hundreds of sheets spread over the desk.
"Burning the midnight oil, uh? " he said, sitting by Jane's sides.
He didn't answer, which didn't surprise Cho. He observed his friend discreetly: his blonde curls were messed up, and the dark shadows under his eyes made him look like a ghost. And he really needed to shower.
"The Blackmailer?" Cho asked.
"Yup."
The Blackmailer was Jane's new obsession. A young man, taking compromising photos of stars, politicians, diplomats in order to extort money in return for the Blackmailer's silence. If they refused to pay, they got an email. Then another. Then the email was sent to the Medias. And it was impossible to trace its origin. A few politicians had already seen their career destroyed and the CBI was under great pressure, between the influential people asking for a person to blame, and the FBI wanting to take the lead. It was no wonder the case had been placed into the hands of Jane.
"This guy is careful and smart. You'll only catch him if you accept our help." said Cho.
It was just a statement, and both of them knew he was right. Jane sighed, and ran a hair through his silky curls. He took a glimpse at Cho, who was staring at him quietly.
"Fine. But just you guys. I don't want anyone else involved."
Cho didn't say anything, and simply left the room, which might seem rude, but it was fine by Jane. Talking with Cho wasn't helpful. Cho communicated with signs, and with some sort of unspoken language that Jane had learned to decipher over the months.
Jane got back to work, his green-sea eyes skimming through the papers in front of him. His head was pounding, and his eyes were shutting down, but he didn't want to sleep. He didn't want the nightmares to come back. And this only way not to sleep was to work.
The Blackmailer fascinated him. He was smart, efficient, and secretive. Just like him. The more Jane worked on the case files, the more he wanted to arrest him. He hated him with his guts and, in a twisted way, was attracted to him.
It was his case. He allowed Cho to help him, but in the end, he would be the one cuffing the Blackmailer. He knew it.
...
"Reese! I'm hungry!"
The eighteen-year-old girl rolled her eyes.
"I know, Tommy. Just give me time to cook your eggs, okay? Can't you just say still? " she said aggressively, before regretting it when she heard silence behind her.
She turned round, and saw the childish face of her brother covered with tears. She sighed, and knelt down. Teresa looked deep in her brother's eyes, and cupped his face with her hand, wiping the tears away, before kissing his forehead.
"I'm sorry, Tommy. I didn't mean that. I'm the worse sister ever."
She felt his tiny arms encircling her waist, and she hugged him back, kissing his shoulder.
"Where are mum and dad? You said they were coming back. It's been more than a year, Reese." he sobbed.
She felt her heart breaking into a million pieces, and she pulled him closer.
"It's going to be okay. We'll be just fine." she said, feeling the tears streaming down. They remained silent for a while, enjoying each other's company, when a knock at the door made them jump. She reluctantly let him go, and she got up.
"Give me one moment! " she shouted.
She took her brother's meal out of the oven, and served her brother, before hurrying to the door. When she opened, the bruised face of Wayne Rigsby welcomed her.
"Rigs! What happened?" she said, motioning him to get in.
"I got into trouble with kids. Nothing serious, though. On the other hand, I think a police officer saw me taking pictures. And I think he took a picture of me as well. "
"Sheep dip!"
Her mind was racing. She couldn't let the police catch her. Her brothers would have nobody to rely on anymore, and they would have no money.
She had never wanted to go down that path. But she didn't have a choice. When her parents disappeared about eighteen months ago, she was left all by herself to take care of three children. At first, she thought she could manage to earn enough money just by working as a waitress. But, of course, things didn't go as she planned. Between the bills, the food, she was rapidly overwhelmed. And when, one day, she saw a famous politician kissing a prostitute, she saw an opportunity.
She had created herself a network spread all over the city, ready to give her compromising information about famous people. If they obeyed her, it was only because she knew things about them too. Things that could lead them to their death, or even worse, if they went public. Teresa's mother had always told her that knowledge was power, and she was right.
But from the beginning, she knew it was a dangerous path to go down. One day, the whole thing would backfire on her. She just refused to think about it, focusing on her brothers. And it seemed this day had come.
Unless...
"Okay, Wayne, this is what you're going to do. Hide. Keep a low profile, and if you're arrested, well…"
She paused. She hated what she was going to say, but she didn't have a choice. She took a deep breath, and whispered menacingly:
" Don't say anything about me. If you do… Well, let's say there will not be any place for your father to hide."
His eyes widened, and she avoided his pained gaze. She knew Wayne trusted her, and hold her in high esteem, and she knew he'd help her even if she didn't know his pressure point. She hated to betray him like that, but her brothers' sake was more important than anything.
" I see."
His voice was cold and distant. He got up.
" Well, I should get going."
He abruptly left the room, and she sighed, her shoulders shaking as she sat on the sofa, tears streaming down her face. She hated her life.
" I'm sorry, Wayne. I'm so so sorry." she whispered.
...
" Jane ! We got something !"
Everything was blurry as Jane woke up. His muscles ached, and he realized he had been sleeping on his desk. He rubbed his eyes, moaning, and looked at the read-head girl standing in front of him, smiling widely.
" Grace ? What is it? "
"About the Blackmailer. Meyer saw somebody taking pictures of a oil tycoon with a journalist. She took some pictures of him, and tried to chase him down, but he was too fast. Anyway, here's what she got."
Jane got up, fully awake. This couldn't be a coincidence. On the photograph Meyer took was a tall guy, around the age of twenty-five years old, holding a camera. Jane observed him for a long time. He was probably just an accomplice, but he could lead them to the Blackmailer. Jane had never be so close.
"Did you identify him already?" he asked, excitement in his voice.
"Wayne Rigsby, 26 years old. Lives with his father in a small town near Sacramento. I thought you might want to join us to arrest him."
Jane didn't like guns at all. He'd tried, but since his family died, he hated that kind of stuff.
"Go without me, arrest him. I'll question him instead. I save myself for the Blackmailer."
...
Wayne Rigsby was a tough guy. He refused to answer to any of Jane's questions, and just kept smiling insolently. But Patrick didn't mind. He knew that he always won at this game. It was just a matter of time.
"Well, Wayne. I see you've been busy. Stolen cars, streets fights, drugs… You have a hell of a reputation. Why would you work for someone? Obey him?"
"How did you find me? I was…"
"Hiding, I know." Jane interrupted him. "But, really? Hiding with the hobos under the bridge? It was too easy, my boy. "
Frankly, it wasn't. They had a tough time finding him, and they spend days and days questioning his family, his friends. Finally, one of Jane's "friends" among the hobos tipped him about a strange fellow who had joined them a few days back. The rest was a piece of cake.
But Rigsby didn't need to know that.
"I'm not telling you anything. You're wasting your time here." Rigsby warned him.
"Really?"
Jane's voice was menacing now. He had done his researches about Rigsby and had found some interesting things.
"It's delusive to think you can resist me, young man. You remember,when I asked you why you would work for someone ? I already knew why. I was just testing you."
"Yeah ? Tell me, then. Why am I under the orders of somebody?"
Rigsby wanted to look confident, but his voice was unsure.
" He has something on you. He's blackmailing you, like he's blackmailing all the other ones who work for him. But he's not the only one who can play this game. I can."
Rigsby was sweating now. He squeezed his hands, and avoided Jane's gaze.
"Perfect. Now, the final touch."
"I'm sure you don't want your father to be arrested for his activity."
Rigsby gasped, and Jane grinned widely.
"Now, this is a dilemma. Either you don't say anything; we arrest your father, who will probably die in prison after the whole story goes public. Or you spill the beans out, now, we offer you protection and we can make a clean sweep of the past. Imagine? You could even get a job here."
Rigsby looked at him, his fists clenched. He was trapped, and he knew it. Finally, he gave up.
"Fine. If I tell you everything, I want you to protect me and my dad."
"It's a deal."
"Her name is Teresa Lisbon. She's living just next door, and…"
"The Blackmailer is a she?" Jane asked, stunned.
" Yeah, of course. She's eighteen, and she's living with her three brothers. She does that to earn money for her brothers, that's all. "
That was a bit disappointing. Jane had pictured himself some kind of a business man, in a nice suit, a true devil. And he had found out she was just an innocent poor kid wanting money.
" And you say that she is the one who blackmailed all those influential politicians and stars ?"
" Yeah. She pays us, and she has a big network, so she has to earn enough money. And like you said, we obey her because she knows things."
Jane got up, his mind racing: he could felt resentment against the young woman in Rigsby's voice. Maybe she wasn't as good-hearted as Rigsby pictured told him.
" Thank you for your time, Wayne. You'll have to sign a statement, and then, we'll see about your protection."
He got out of the room. Cho and Van Pelt were waiting for him, the first one smiling faintly and the second one barely hiding her excitement.
" Well, let's catch ourselves a criminal, shall we ?"
...
Teresa was taking care of her youngest brother when she heard police sirens. Her heart began to pound in her chest. They were coming for her. She didn't how she knew it, but she was sure of it.
She got up, and kissed her brother James on his temple, who began to protest.
"I'm coming back, okay? "she said softly.
The three-year-old boy nodded with innocence and she couldn't help smiling. After stroking one last time his black curls, she rushed upstairs. Before entering her parent's bedroom, she took a deep breath. Since their disappearance, she hadn't dared to enter their room. But she needed too.
The room was just how they left it, exception made for the thin layer of dust on the furniture. She came in, shyly, and headed directly to her father closet. She opened the third drawer, and there it was: her father's Glock. She took it, carefully. It was heavy on her hand, but it seems to fit her small hand perfectly. Now she was ready.
"Drop your weapon !" a masculine voice shouted behind her.
She froze. She was about to turn round to shoot him, but she felt his hand grasping her arm and twisting it. She dropped the weapon as the pain radiated in her arm, and he immediately cuffed her.
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense."
He paused, and even if she couldn't see his face, she could sense a triumphal smile.
" Finally. I've got you."
...
A/N: So. I know this is happening fast, but this is not the most interesting part of the story. I don't want you to get bored. In the next chapter, Patrick will be questioning Teresa, and things will not go as he planned, uhuh.
Anyway, make sure to drop a review, that would be awesome !
Thanks for reading this story ;)