The Scarlet Thread

by LionQueen

It was a strange thing to have in common, but there it was and no one else could ever grasp it, this bond between them. He stared at the red sign, thinking of the painful irony, saw another flash of red in his mind, and then he opened the Door.

1. Red Sandcastles

Title: The Scarlet Thread
Rating: M
Genre: Drama/Angst/Mystery/Tragedy
Characters: Mainly Corin/Abigail/Jane and Rigsby with frequent appearances by Grace/Lisbon and Cho
Warnings: Deeper into the story there will be some disturbing situations, not overtly graphical in nature, just generally uncomfortable. This is the reason for the M rating. Although, my writing is typically free of vulgarity, and cursing is minimal, only used when it would logically be used.

Summary: Picks up in Episode three, Red Tide, when Jane stays on the beach to draw in Flipper, the guy he wants to investigate. In this story, he inadvertently ticks off someone - or is it really inadvertently? The title bears a strong significance to the story, and you will discover what that is.

Author's Note: It goes without saying that the only character I can claim as my own is Corin and her daughter Abigail. I hope more Mentalist fic's pop up on here, I absolutely adore the show! Please enjoy and by all means review! Thanks!

The Scarlet Thread - By LionQueen

Chapter 1- Red Sandcastles

He wakened from a sound sleep, one he'd slipped into while settling too comfortably into the couch. He was alone and that didn't make him feel too easy. Yet, he only needed to see that the door was still locked from the inside and then he knew where she was. It didn't take a genius, or even a mind reader, just a human being with half a brain.

He turned the corridor as if he belonged there, instinctively, as if he'd done so a thousand times before. He was rewarded when he encountered the closed door where hung a red flowered sign that read 'Kids only, No Grown-ups Allowed.'

He hesitated a moment. It was a strange thing to have in common, but there it was and no one else could ever grasp it, this bond between them. He stared at the red sign, thinking of the painful irony, saw another flash of red in his mind, and then he opened the door.

"All the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray. I've been for a walk, on a winters day."

Abigail rolled a frustrated gaze up at the golden-haired woman driving the car. "Mom, that's old people's music."

Corin glanced down at her daughter and smiled. "So, you're sayin I'm old now, huh?"

"Noo, I'm sayin you listen to old music. Can we change the station? Pleeease??"

"Too late." Corin chimed back, sliding into an empty parking space. "We're here."

There, meaning the shining stretch of white sand that lie just on the other side of the wobbly, wooden fence bordering the parking lot and the beach.

To say it was a gorgeous day would be almost insulting. The temperature was perfectly comfortable, with a steady salt breeze blowing in off the water, and the sky draped over them as smooth as fine, blue silk. It didn't take much coaxing to get Abbie out of the car, although she did have to be prodded to help carry a few things. Such as the totes and the blanket. Corin coddled one tote under her arm, and their lunch she held in her hands, while she let Abbie carry her own beach gear.

Abbie didn't swim very well, but she loved to splash through the ocean water, with the sand disappearing under her feet and the tiny fish nibbling at her toes. Corin was happy when Abbie was happy.

So, they played for a while under the California sun, tossing handfuls of water at each other, and selecting unique shells for Abbie's collection. And when they'd tired, they settled into the sand, munching on cheeseburgers and fries. It might not have been the most nutritious, but it was good, and it was fun. And today was all about fun.

"Penny for your thoughts." Abbie said when Corin spent too long staring out over the shore.

She sighed and then smiled, gazing at her daughter's fine, brown hair being swept up in the breeze. She wasn't perfect, and her life wasn't perfect, but her and Abbie got along just fine. That wasn't to say how that might change when the little girl was ready to shed her childhood and merge into a young woman. There would be boys, and then boys … Oh, and boys.

"Ah, you know your mom." Then Corin rose. "Let me get rid of this and then we'll see if the gulls are hungry, okay?"

She gathered the empty bags while Abbie finished off her hamburger and made her way to the trash can. But her pace quickened when she turned and saw a figure dropping down into the sand near Abbie. A man with curly, disheveled blond hair. He'd dropped to his knees and started digging a hole in the sand with his shoe. Abbie stared at him and then gave him her bucket.

Corin approached, visibly wary, trying to hold her composure when he flicked up sparkling blue-eyes. "You must be mom." He said, winking at Abbie, smiling roguishly and then proceeding to gather piles of sand with Abbie's bucket.

She should have been cautious, a bit defensive, considering this strange man just plopped down and attempted to engage her young daughter in conversation, but he was so boyish- like, kneeling there with his bare feet poking out of a nice pair of rolled up dress-pants, the breeze tossing around his yellow curls. She should have retrieved her little girl and high-tailed it back to her car, but she was standing there instead, as if in a trance, watching him carefully sculpt piles of sand into recognizable figures.

"What are you doing?"

The smile might have been charming, were it not so unnerving, but yet she was still there, gazing at him. He smoothed out another mound and then answered. "When you were a little girl, what did you dream of being? "

"What?"

"What did you want to be when you grew up?"

She eyed him as he rounded out another peak in his sculpture, feeling as if he were somehow slowly unraveling her. She stared at him hard. He was thirty-ish it seemed, close to her own age. He'd peeled off his jacket, socks and shoes, they sat beside him in a pile. But it was his eyes that set her off balance. Clear blue, and likely to win every staring contest challenge he might ever have accepted. He had a relaxed, direct sort of gaze that was both engaging and disturbing. She blinked, catching a flicker of sun glint off the gold ring he wore on his left hand, and then answered wryly. "Do you wear that ring because you're married, or because you want women to think you're married?"

"Do you always answer a question with a question?" This time he locked a clear-eyed gaze back into hers and waited for a response. Maybe he expected her to break the stare and look away, or shift her weight and then start babbling on about herself. Instead, she kept her eyes on him.

"If I don't trust the question."

"Or the person asking it?" He'd went back to his sculpture, nearly finished, and scaled over it with his hands, smoothing out the rough edges.

This sandcastle had drawn more attention with each crest he added to it. He grinned, as if feeling accomplished, while the crowd grew larger, applauding the overwhelmingly large structure. It was reminiscent, and quite like a replica of Cinderella's castle. He even managed to score one yellow flag to crown it with.

It would have been impressive, had Corin not turned and glimpsed the look on her daughters face. Abbie had made her own sandcastle, while the stranger was building his condo with her bucket. A meager little lump of sand compared to his giant, meticulously crafted one. Insult was added to injury when he smiled and returned the bucket to an awkward Abigail. Corin's expression darkened slightly. "What was your name again?"

"Patrick. Patrick Jane."

She nodded, taking Abbie's hand and pulling her up on her feet. "Well, Mr. Jane …"

"Please, call me Patrick."

"Right. So, Mr. Jane … I'm glad you enjoy attention so much that you'd think nothing of showing up a ten year old. Nice job, congratulations! Really!"

She gathered the blanket and the totes, and nudged Abbie forwards. He stood up, watching her with interest. "I didn't catch your name either…"

"That's because I didn't give it." She retorted.

"It's Corin." Abbie blurted. "And I'm Abigail, but you can call me Abbie."

Eyes twinkling, his mouth was forming a response, but Corin had already flipped her daughter around and was scolding her as they retreated.

"But Mommy … he was funny. "

She slid into the drivers seat and slammed the door. "Don't ' but mommy' me. I've told you Abigail, and I don't want to have to keep telling you …"

Abbie was looking at her shiny-eyed, and then she'd noticed her own raised voice. She hadn't meant to yell at her. She blew out air and then looked at Abbie softly. "I'm sorry. You know, we're all we've got here. You and me. "

She started the car, wondering what on earth had just happened? Who was this man, and how had he managed to hold her there, bouncing words back and forth with him, when any other time she would have fled, Abbie in tow? The conversation, if it could have truly been considered one, rolled around in her head - along with the smooth, gentle tone of his voice. It was unsettling at the least. In an attempt to wipe the encounter from her brain, she eyed the radio. "Guess what? It's your turn to pick the station."

Abbie grinned and reached for the consol, as Corin pulled out of the parking lot. "You know, you're never gonna find a boyfriend if you don't talk, Mom."

With raised eyebrow, Corin smirked, stopping at the light. "Really? And why do I need a boy friend?"

"Well, so you can go out!"

She shook her head as she pulled into the driveway. "Out? Well, that's why I keep you around. Didn't you know that?"

"But it's not the same. Mom, you really need a boyfriend before you get too old."

"Oh. So, you're my Yenta now?" She grabbed the mail before she opened the door. Abbie knew what was next.

"I know… I Know …" She chided playfully. "Boys? Who needs boys?"

They both tumbled into the living room, laughing. "Boys are stupid, throw rocks at them!"

And then Corin sent her daughter to take her bath. They ate popcorn while watching television until they were both dozing off, snuggled under the baby afghan. She woke up, lay for a few minutes listening to Abbie breathing in and out, and then she gathered her up in her arms and took her to bed.

She sat under the dim lighting, feeling a little prickle on the back of her neck, glanced at the window and then called him before he called her first.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Ah, nothin. Checkin up on ya. I just put Abbie to bed."

"Checkin up on me? I'm supposed to be the one checking up on you, yea?"

"Yea, okay." She relented. "Well, I just didn't want the phone to wakeup Abbie. "

"Right.'

The short pause must have prompted concern. He took a breath. "You okay?"

She blinked, watching the tree sway in the wind, blocking out the full moon. "Uh, yea. Yea. It was just … It was a weird day. What's this about the girl found …Washed up on shore?"

"Oh that." He sighed. "It's isolated, no worries. One of those surfers. It was either a relative, or friend."

She nodded. Why, she wasn't sure. He couldn't see her bobbing her head up-and-down no more than he could her hand gesturing, yet, she still did so, regardless. "It's okay. I just … Abbie and I were at the beach earlier. I went to throw the trash away, and overheard some kids talkin about it. Then I went back to Abbie and … This …. Weird guy was sitting down talking to her. "

"Weird guy?"

A flash of twinkling eyes and fine lines curled around a glowing boyish grin flicked through her mind. Yea, total weirdo. She stuck one hand behind her head. "Yea. Yea …It's …It's okay. He was strange, but, we left."

"Uhhuh. " He responded a little protectively and then chuckled a little . "Well, can't be any weirder than the one I work with."

She laughed. "Yea ...What was that? Yesterday he was lining up pencils on your bosses desk?"

"Yeah, "He let out another half-laugh. "Somethin like that. Anyway, we're probably gonna go eat tomorrow after work, you wanna come along?"

"I dunno, is the pencil fetish guy gonna be there?"

She could hear the amusement in his voice. "Yea, he might."

"Mmm … I've got a lot of tests to grade. And then, I'd have to bring Abbie with me."

"Well, that's what I meant." He laughed. "You and Abbie. Just come out and eat with us. It's that place, the seafood place. Look, it's not a 'work' thing, we're just goin for a bite. "

"That seafood place." She nodded again. "Yea, okay, I'll think about it."

She threw her legs from the arm of the overstuffed chair and rose, setting the phone on the coffee table. The wind had picked up a little, as it tossed leaves against the window. Corin made her way to the door, checked the lock's, then the windows. She checked the back door last and then she turned the light out.

She poked her head in and watched Abbie sleeping for a few minutes. She was on her side, grasping a black and white penguin she'd named Elvis. She was safe and warm in her bed, sleeping peacefully. It was the way it should be.

Corin slipped quietly into her own room, leaving the door cracked a little, and crawled under her own covers.

Mom?" Her eyes popped open. She was sitting up straight in bed, Abbie standing at the foot, eying her curiously. "Are you okay?"

She looked at the clock, 5am. "Yea, baby. " Then she held her arms out. "Come on."

Abbie crawled across the comforter, and then slid under it, into her mothers embrace. "You said somethin and then you just sat up."

"Yea?" She answered, kissing her on the head "Oh, I was probably just dreaming. Everybody has dreams."

Abbie nodded and then they dozed off for a couple of hours.

Today was just as beautiful as the day before, with the same welcomed breeze blowing. It hardly seemed like a day to have to work. But she managed to get herself and Abbie through the door, Abbie to school and herself to work.

"Okay, next week, we'll be getting into the Impressionist Movement. So, before you turn in your tests, I'll throw you a bone. If you can tell me who said "I am trying to do 'something different' – in a way realities – what the imbeciles call 'impressionism' is a term which is as poorly used as possible, particularly by art critics." I'll reward you appropriately with some extra credit, and looking at some of your grades, you'll need it."

Everyone laughed as they scribbled their answers and one by one dropped their tests by her desk. She took each of them while nodding and telling them to have a nice weekend.

It was after three and she was running late picking up Abigail. She was gathering her things when her phone buzzed. She grappled with it in her pocket until she'd gotten it to her ear."Yea."

"Hey. I'm pretty close to Abbie, ya want me to pick her up for ya and we'll meet you there?"

"Great timing, yes, thanks. "

She was stopped by a couple of professors and by four she was on her way. She was touching up her makeup at an intersection just off of the interstate when she noticed it. A small white card nestled between the wind-shield wiper and the car. How had she missed it before?

Her hand froze over her mouth as the blood rushed to her face. It was not what she'd wanted to see, not what she'd hoped to see ever again. She jumped in her seat when the horn blew behind her. The next thing she knew, her foot had slipped from the break to the gas and she shot off like a rocket through the intersection.

"Oh God!" She blurted, holding onto the wheel and slowing the car. She screeched into the parking lot, and quickly haulted inside an empty space. She sat there a minute, breathing in and out, staring out straight. Then she loosened her white knuckled grasp from the wheel, opened the door and stared at the white card. She glanced around briefly, taking it in her hand, fearing that her face was turning pale. Then she drew a long breath, while straightening herself. God only knew who, if anyone, had witnessed the event. Her skidding into the lot like a mad woman, and then gawping white-faced at the card left on her windshield. She toussled her hair a little, smoothed her top, and then made her way to the entrance.

He was standing by the door when he noticed the car skidding into the lot. He raised his eyes and recognized the golden-haired brunette immediatly. She'd evacuated the car rather promptly, turned and hovered over the windsheild. He watched her regain her composure as she slipped something into her purse and then made her way to the entrance.

Her mouth dropped open when she saw him. "What the…?"

"Hello Corin, you clean up very well."

"What? You …What are you doing here?"

She was staring at him the way an animal looks at a potential threat. Attempting to appear strong and defensive. At least it seemed that way to him. He tried to disarm her with a crooked smile."Well, I'm here for dinner. They do serve dinner here right?"

He noted the way she held the purse closely to her side. She flicked her eyes across his face, and took a step backwards.

"Corin." She fought to hide the start when Wayne called her. She turned and found he and Abbie standing there. She smiled. "Hey."

He had a slight look of worry on his face. "Are you okay?"

"What?" She tried to hide her stammering."Yea, I'm fine. Why?"

She knew very well why. Her face was warm and flushed, she couldn't hide it. But she tried to shrug it off by playing oblivious, hoping he'd change the subject. Then he sighed. "Alright ... Well , Corin, this is Jane. He's been working with us at the CBI."

The CBI was the short version of The California Bureau of Investigation. Wayne loved the job, and being a man with a high sense of justice - right and wrong - it fit his temperament, as well as his personality, quite well.

"Already had the pleasure." Patrick responded. "Abbie let me use her sand bucket yesterday."

"Yea Uncle Wayne, he made a huge castle, like Cinderella!" Abbie added.

"Yesterday?" Wayne answered, with a puzzled expression. Then his mouth formed an 'O' as he stuck a finger out at Jane. "Wait … This is the weird guy?"

"The weird guy?" Jane interrupted.

Corin shook her head, things like this could only happen to her. "Yep …This is the weird guy."

Wayne laughed. "I shoulda known."

"Wait, " Corin put a finger over her mouth as she thought about it. "So, this is pencil fetish guy?"

Jane's mouth dropped a little."Pencil fetish?"

Wayne shook his head too. "Yep …This is the weird guy."

She and Wayne turned to the door, Abbie between them. Patrick trailed after them. "The Weird guy?"

Grace and Teresa were already at the table, the four joined them. Wayne pulled out a chair for his sister and then sat next to Grace."Where's Cho?"

"Dunno. He said he'd be late." She turned to Corin. "Hi, I'm Teresa and this is Grace."

"Oh … yea …" Wayne stammered awkwardly. "Um, this is Corin and Abbie, everyone."

Theresa was a bit stoic, with pale, luminescent skin and dark, straight, shoulder length hair, swept to the side. Her squared jaw was defined by high cheek bones, and a small but defined chin. There was a hint of femininity showing through her masculine features. Grace, was just the opposite, with a beautiful, but understated diamond shaped face accompanied by elegantly arched eyebrows and straight dark-red hair that she wore in a long braid over her shoulder. Corin could see why her brother was so taken with her.

"Mr. Patrick? " Abbie and Patrick had been exchanging glances during the conversation. He was smiling at her and she was fighting a huge grin. She tilted her head playfully. "You're not weird."

Wayne stifled an outright laugh, while his other two coworkers smiled. Patrick kept a steady sparkling gaze on Abbie. "Thank you Abbie. "

"So, Corin." Grace continued while they waited for their orders. "Have you been settling in okay?"

Corin picked at a piece of table bread. "Yea. It's okay. I mean, it's been a couple of months already."

"Wayne said you teach music?"

"Umhum." She nodded, taking a drink of water. "Music theory..."

"A pianist." Patrick thoughtfully interjected.

"Yep. She's good too!"

He noted the way Corin eyed him, ignoring her daughters contribution. The questioning was all over her face, but she wasn't going to humor him. The corners of his mouth turned up and he answered as if she'd asked. "It's your posture, of course. The way you sit up straight, elbows to your sides. Long and slender fingers, carefully preened nails. Not too long."

Grace was smiling impressively. Everyone else waited, while the conversation transpired. True that there was a part of Corin that might have been intrigued by his spot on observation, but it was at odds with the other side that thought maybe smacking him might make her feel better. She choked back the first snarky response that popped into her head and then confirmed his guess rather curtly. "Yes ... I play piano."

"She's being modest." Wayne piped up. "She was one of the best in her class. She was supposed to tour, but she's teaching instead. "

If the table was a stage, the people around it were the spotlights, focused on her, capable of exposing every detail. This is why she wasn't very keen on going out in the first place. A group of people, especially coworkers, on a social event was breeding ground for all sorts of nonsense. In a desperate rush of self-preservation, she set out to place the instigator of this intrusive conversation in the hot-seat.

She settled a straight forward gaze into Jane's bright-blue eyes. " I'm sorry the wife couldn't join us tonight."

She could not have predicted the air of tension that had swiftly blown through them. Jane sat straight, wearing a hint of quiet regret in his expression. The moment was brief, but it was clear that she had finally succeeded in touching upon a nerve. One that didn't seem quite as entertaining as she thought it might be. He blinked, and then smiled impishly at the child. "Abbie, have you ever seen Mexican Jumping toothpicks?"

Abbie shook her head slowly as she watched with building interest, Patrick securing two tooth picks, crisscrossing each other in his palm. The rippling movement was slow at first, hardly detectable, until one tooth pick seemed to leap off of the other, and then randomly jump up and down like a rubber ball on cement. Eyes wide, and glowing with amazement, Abbie could hardly control her enthusiasm. "How'd you do that?"

Corin abruptly reached across the table and drew a pair of tooth picks of her own. She knew this trick. "I'll show you. I learned this at Girl scout camp." She carefully placed one toothpick between her thumb and index finger and then she set the second toothpick upright in the palm of her other hand while resting the end of it on the first toothpick. All she needed to do was to rub across the first toothpick with her middle fingernail and the vibrations would cause the toothpick to dance around like magic.

She hesitated when she realized that everyone at the table was staring at her. She'd so purposefully nabbed the toothpicks from their holder, so knowingly positioned them. They were all waiting for her to make them jump, just as Jane had. He was watching her too. She blinked, moved her hand a little, and then catching a glimpse of Abbie staring up at her, she smiled weakly. For the childlike wonder of her daughter, she could subdue the urge to upset Jane's ego a bit. "Well, I … I thought I had this one … But I guess not."

"Do it again Mr. Patrick!" Abbie pleaded with big brown eyes.

Patrick eyed Corin, and then he leaned forwards. "Those aren't Mexican Jumping toothpicks, you know. But we can turn them into a pair, do you want me to show you?"

Abigail looked at Corin until Corin bobbed her head."Fine. Go ahead."

They whispered for a few minutes, followed by a giggle from Abbie, and then he nudged her forward. "Go on."

Abbie returned to her mother, smiling mischievously. She placed the toothpicks in her hands the way Corin had and then grinned when the one bounced about on top of the other. Everyone clapped, praising Abbie for doing such amazing trick. Patrick was leaning on his elbow, smiling with his eyes while Abbie glowed. For now it didn't matter if he knew how to get under her skin. Her daughter felt special for a moment, and she couldn't argue with that.

They were dispelling into the parking lot, Corin had already said goodnight to Wayne. She was loading Abbie into the car when Patrick joined her. She looked up, brows drawn in. "Mexican Jumping toothpicks, very nice. Although, I hope you aren't under the impression that you can woo the mother through the daughter."

He laughed. "You think I was wooing you?"

Corin shrugged. He rolled his eyes as if to say whatever. "Well, anyway. Back there, on the beach."

"Uhhuh."

"I was on a case."

"A case."

"Meaning …I wasn't intending on stealing Abbie's thunder."

She folded her arms and smirked. "A case. So, you consider constructing condominiums in the sand as you working on a case."

He rubbed his chin while chuckling lightly. "Well, perhaps my methods could seem a little unorthodox to some people."

She studied him for a moment, then sighed. "A sailor."

"Huh?"

"I wanted to be a sailor."

He backed up some when she made her way to the drivers side, while squinting a little. "A sailor? Really?"

She smiled. "Yea, really."

"Interesting."

She opened the drivers side and slid into the seat. "Goodnight Mr. Jane."

He watched her start the car, and pull out of the parking space, Abbie discreetly waving goodbye at him from the back seat.

"Please." He waved back, murmuring out loud. "Call me Patrick."