"We got a single homicide here; looks like your guy, Red John. You wanna come down and handle this?"
Special Agent Teresa Lisbon nodded, though the local sheriff of Fresno County, to whom she was speaking could obviously not see her.
"Yeah, we're taking this one. Just have your boys watch the scene, I want it intact to have my team look at it. We'll be there in under an hour." Lisbon had barely hung up by the time she was swiftly rising out of her chair and striding out of her office into the bullpen where her team was, each agent at their desk fiddling with something or other, her consultant pretending to sleep, stretched out on his worn leather couch.
"We're up, guys, we got either Red John or a copycat, either way, it's our deal." The words weren't even out of her mouth when Jane sprung from his sofa, wide awake and was reaching for his suit jacket that was slung over the desk he rarely used. As he shimmied it over his recently unrolled long shirt sleeves he addressed Lisbon, demanding, "Where is it? Who's the victim? What condition is the body-"
Lisbon interrupted Jane and she thrust a brand new case file into his hands, saying, "Relax, we're going in the next few minutes. Victim is a nineteen year old girl called Laura Shannon, college student down in Fresno, she was found in bed in her apartment, killed according to Red John's typical patterns…"
"But we have to go there to be sure of anything…" Jane finished her sentence for her.
Lisbon nodded patiently, "We wouldn't think of doing anything else, Master Jane, now, shall we?" She motioned towards the elevators and Jane followed hot on her heels, the rest of the team trailing behind as they walked, adjusting their jackets, clipping badges into place, checking the guns on their hips. As they whole team crowded into the elevator, which was empty but for them, Jane's anticipation was tangible. He was like a child at a very morbid Christmas.
"Lisbon, this is definitely Red John." So said consultant Patrick Jane within five minutes of entering the crime scene, the victim's bedroom, in which her cold body now rested upon a blood-soaked duvet.
Lisbon hated herself for asking, "How can you be sure?"
"Please, look at those lacerations, this is classic Red John. But why…" Jane spun away from Lisbon and began walking slowing around the room, his hooded blue eyes roaming from corner to corner, scanning each wall and surface, covered in the recently deceased Laura Shannon's personal effects. Lisbon watched him for a moment as he paused to stare at a portion of the wall devoted to what looked like personal photographs, both old and new. Used to this behavior, Lisbon began to twist away, exhaling heavily as she once again caught sight of the still slightly wet signature mark of Red John; the dreaded smiley face, drawn in the victim's blood.
"Well, Jane, as far as I can tell this all looks pretty standard. We can talk to her family, see if it gives us any leads, but more likely than not this is just another dead end, so let's not get our hopes- Jane?" Lisbon stopped her speech mid-sentence, unsure of what Jane was doing. So, nothing new, as far as she was concerned. "Jane, what you got?"
Without answering Jane, eyes still transfixed to the same spot, reached to the wall plastered with pictures and plucked a single photograph from its adhesive tape grip. Lisbon couldn't see what was in the picture, and moved to look over Jane's shoulder, well aware that if she didn't look he wouldn't show her, if she didn't ask he wouldn't tell. "What is it, Jane?"
Jane held the photograph right up, inches away from his face, making no attempt to hide it from Lisbon, as if he'd forgotten she was there. Lisbon came to stand at Jane's left shoulder, and as the picture came into view she gasped. Two little girls stood smiling broadly in the picture, side by side in an outdoor area, probably a park. Lisbon instantly recognized both of them; with her long, straight chestnut hair, bright blue eyes and ears sticking out sweetly, the girl on the right was clearly a young Laura Shannon. She was probably around eight or nine years old, but Lisbon wasn't familiar enough with children to be sure.
The girl on the left was smaller, skinny and blonde, with shoulder length curls that fell endearingly messily around her face and eyes, also blue but slightly greyer, deeper, like…
"Jane, is that your daughter?"
Jane's jaw was clenched slightly and a vein was pulsing in his neck. He didn't take his eyes off the photograph when he next spoke.
"This girl- Laura Shannon- went to school with my daughter, they went from kindergarten to third grade in the same class..." Jane didn't feel the need to add that they only stopped going to school together because Red John had struck in early September, just weeks before his girl Charlotte was supposed to start her year in the fourth grade. He knew Lisbon could surmise that for herself. And he couldn't bear to remember how excited Charlotte had been to start her new school year, eager to use her new 'big kid' backpack (plain blue, with a butterfly on the front pocket, instead of Disney characters), how she'd been thrilled to get her new teacher's summer reading list, on which was included Charlotte's Web, which she'd read twice by the end of August, once with her dad reading aloud to her at bedtime, and again by herself, carrying it outdoors to read while she laid on her belly in the grass. She'd been heartbroken when Charlotte died, turning too her father with tears in her eyes, asking, "Why did Charlotte have to die?"
Why did Charlotte have to die? These words had been rattling around Jane's head for ten years.
"Jane? You still here?"
Jane stirred at the sound of Lisbon's voice. He cleared his throat and lowered his arm, the pictured still clenched tightly in his hand. "I think this is supposed to be a message for me. It can't be a coincidence that this girl was friends with my daughter, it has to mean something."
Lisbon looked skeptical. "Well then, what does it mean, Jane?"
Jane shrugged, tucking the picture into the inside pocket of his jacket, and then stuck his hands in his pockets. "Well, that I don't know, Lisbon, but I'm positive that it will reveal itself in due time."
Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Great, then let's not do any police work, we'll just sit back and let the case solve itself? Hmm, what to do with all this free time?"
Jane enjoyed Lisbon's sarcastic side, and knew she was doing it to cheer him up, how she hated to see his forlorn attitude when he was reminded of his loss at Red John's hands. "I hear roller skating is back in vogue…"
"Seriously Jane, we need to be realistic about the fact that this could just be a coincidence. I mean, we already know that Red John likes to hurt young women and there are only so many of them in California. After ten years this had to happen at some point. There must have been, what, at least ten other girls in your daughter's class?"
As Lisbon spoke Agents Cho and Rigsby entered the room. Rigsby's eyebrows raised upon hearing what Lisbon was talking about, but Cho's face remained calm and stern, and he spoke first, saying, "Hey Boss, Jane. We've canvassed the neighborhood within a two-mile radius, didn't get a whole lot besides a few elderly neighbors who said the victim was a friendly girl, helped them out a few times. Most people around here haven't had direct contact with her, though." Rigsby added, "We got a number for her family home from her cellphone, her parents live in Madera, a Mr. and Mrs.…"
"Robert and Martha Shannon." Jane wasn't even looking at the rest of the team, as he had gone back to staring at the rest of the pictures on Laura's wall, now with an incriminating white space that had once housed the picture of two little girls who were both condemned to die young. Rigsby checked his notepad. "Er, yeah." Rigsby closed his notepad sheepishly and looked around at the rest of the team. Lisbon took a last sweeping glance around the room and then said, "Okay, Rigsby, take Jane and talk to the parents in Madera, Cho and I will go to her college and talk to some professors, students. You two meet us there when you're finished."
All three men gave Lisbon a questioning look, wondering why she was splitting up the team's usual combinations. Lisbon answered the question none of them asked. "We need Jane with the parents, it's most likely one or both of them knows something, and we all know he's the only one who'll be harsh enough to get anything out of them. Rigsby hates teenagers." Cho shrugged and left the room, apparently satisfied with this explanation. Rigsby looked embarrassed.
"Boss, I don't hate teenagers, I just- they're just rude, I don't understand why they have to-"
"It's okay Rigsby, just go see the parents." Lisbon turned to leave, and stopped, turned back to face Jane and said, "Behave. I get that you have to be tough to get answers, but there is a line between tough and cruel, and you know exactly where it is."
And with that Lisbon left the room, leaving Jane and Rigsby alone. Jane put his arm out with a flourish, pointing towards the door. "After you, sir." Rigsby rolled his eyes and led the way out.