From where I stand in my attic, I can see the last of the afternoon light fading from the city, orange and gold on the buildings. I can hear the cooing of pigeons putting themselves to bed, and the occasional clatter of my teacup.
I failed, again. Six months wasted. A good man dead. Red John has eluded me again. Every time I think I've got him, he's three steps ahead. I was so close; Red John really believed he had me, for a while there. I believed that he was within reach.
The worst thing is that I think Red John knows. He wanted Lisbon's head – Red John would not have asked for that if he did not know what she means to me.
Even Lisbon does not know. Oh, she loves me alright. She'd kill or die for me – but here's the thing - Lisbon does not know that I would do the same for her. She's my best friend, my moral compass, and the only person left on the whole damn planet that I really love. Saint Teresa – so generous that even though she has no idea how I feel about her, she'd still give up everything for me.
I slipped up today. "I love you". We were so close to catching Red John, I was so close to being able to tell her that, over and over again. When catching Red John seemed so close, and being allowed to love her being so close, it slipped out. When I held her hand in the desert, I knew that Red John had escaped again, but I held her hand because I couldn't give up hope so soon.
Driving her away is the safest thing to do. The further apart we are, the safer she is. Six months in Vegas I didn't speak to her, although it broke my heart to hurt her so badly. Six months of my life was a small sacrifice to make if it rids me – us – of Red John. The night with Lorelei, was a sacrifice too – I knew who sent her when she arrived at my door. Sacrificing of nine years of celibacy was worth it if it made me free. I can't say I didn't at least partly enjoy it – nine years is a very long time, and Lorelei is attractive. However, there were times that night that I pretended to myself that it was Teresa next to me.
"Find yourself a woman. Start a family" Carter told me.
"When you're dead" I replied. I've come to realize how true that was. People I get close to, Red John hurts. I daydream about a future with Teresa, her in my arms. We're not too old, not yet – we could have a child together. What stops me? If Red John hurt them, I do not think I would survive.
