Patrick Jane sat lightly on the corner of the desk, alone in Lisbon's office, head bent and looking at his faded leather shoes. He turned his gaze to the tile floor, noting that the fake marble pattern repeated every other tile, and some of the marks looked like the outline of a lion. He noticed the scuff marks from Lisbon's shoes. He noticed twelve round pieces of paper left from a hole-punching project Lisbon did the evening before. He smiled delicately at the thought of Lisbon fighting with the three-hole punch as she frantically sorted the mound of papers on her desk. He looked to his left; the mound was still there. Jane's attention was drawn to the door as he noticed the blinds rattle and the hinges squeak.
"What are you doing in here?" Lisbon demanded. She stood commandingly, her black suit jacket unbuttoned and covering her simple maroon blouse.
"I was waiting for you," Jane stated as he looked her in the eyes from his perch, and raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.
"What do you want, now?" Lisbon continued walking toward her desk, passing Jane and quickly taking her seat. She immediately started to sort through papers, fixing her gaze on her hands.
Jane stood and slowly spun around to look at her. He noticed she decided to straighten her hair today. She smelled nice, too: a sophisticated, yet flirty, hint of roses hung around her.
"I have a hunch." He threw one of his amiable smiles to the top of her head.
"About the Myers case?" She said without looking his way.
"Yes." He kept looking at her, waiting for her to look up.
"The case is practically closed. Tammy Quinn confessed." She still watched her own hands as they pushed busy documents into mustard-yellow folders.
"Tammy didn't do it." He smiled wider.
Lisbon sighed to herself and finally looked up with slumped shoulders. "And why do you think that?" She let her hands drop a few papers and rested her elbows on the table, putting her chin in her hands to give him her full attention.
"I don't think so, I know so." He subtly nodded his head and leaned in a bit closer, placing his hands on the desk to prop himself up.
"Then who did?" She knew he would answer whether she asked him or not.
"Sarah Adkins, Greg Meyers' bull-owning customer."
Lisbon impatiently put her hands back to work, "but we already checked out Sarah's alibi. She wasn't even near Oakdale the night of the murder."
"Ah, but she was." Jane kept his grin as he explained his theory. "She said she was in San Francisco visiting her sister Naomi, but we only have Naomi's word."
Lisbon looked up to Jane, his eyes throwing her a "you have to believe me" look.
Lisbon shook her head to combat what she could feel him thinking. "We have credit card statements placing Sarah in the Supermarket in San Fran thirty minutes before the murder," she said matter-of-fact, "and you remember we also have the cashier's testimony that he remembers them both? How could she be in two places at once?"
"Ah, but Lisbon, she wasn't." He moved his face closer to hers as he continued with his theory. "It was her sister who used the credit card." He raised his right hand off the desk and put out his palm as if he were holding the answer in plain sight.
Lisbon watched him put his hand back down, then followed his gray suit jacket-clad arm to his sky blue collared shirt, to his freshly shaved chin. Was that Old Spice? She looked him in the eye."Then explain the cashier's identification."
"He remembers two girls, both blond, petite, pretty... but it was Naomi and someone else. A mystery girl who happens to resemble Sarah."
"Really?" Lisbon looked him in the eye, "you expect me to believe in this mystery girl? One who looks just like Sarah?"
"Yes." Jane stood up straight and bounced gently on his heels to make a point. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, waiting for her response.
"Bring me the mystery girl," Lisbon said as she went back to her folders, "and I'll believe you."
"Of course." Jane smiled, spun on his heels, took two long strides to the door, put his hand on the cold metal handle, and stopped before he opened it.
"Lisbon?" he said, looking at the door handle.
"Yes, Jane?" she answered, looking over a document.
"Cheer up."
She looked up, slightly ponderously, as he swung opened the door, making the blinds rattle again, and bounded out into the hall.
She sighed to herself and shook her head, placing a folder into a cardboard box behind her desk.
***
Jane grabbed the keys to the SUV and walked passed Van Pelt's desk. He knew she would want to know where he was going, and he didn't mind taking along company.
"Where are you going?" Van Pelt asked, standing in the ready. Her long ginger hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and she wore a simple light pink button-up blouse.
"To find a mystery girl." Jane grinned.
Van Pelt furrowed her brow, "uh, do you need any help?"
"No, no. I have this." He knew that response still wouldn't deter her.
"Are you sure? I don't mind taking a road trip. Oakdale sounds nice."
"Jane!" Lisbon called from her office doorway, "I'm coming with you." She ran back into her office to grab her gun, leaving her door open.
"Ah! Now you believe me?" Jane called back to the door with the rattling blinds.
"No, that's why I'm coming with you." Lisbon walked briskly out of her office toward Jane. "I need a break from all that paper pushing, anyway."
"Yeah, you could use a drive in the country." Jane jingled the keys and tossed them to Lisbon. He raised his arm over his head and pointed to the exit.
"To Oakdale!"
***
Lisbon's thin fingers held the slowly-cooling steering wheel. Though her eyes were shielded from the sun by large sunglasses, she squinted as the morning rays turned into noon-time glare on Highway 99. She felt the sun hitting her chin and chest and fiddled with the AC controls to direct the air on herself. She could feel Jane, resting his blond curls on his headrest, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Lisbon squirmed in her seat imperceptibly. To break the silence, Jane began humming his own rendition of the Beach Boys' "I Get Around."
"You can turn on the radio," Lisbon said. Jane could hear undeniable the irritation in her voice.
Without lifting his head, he smiled and asked "you don't like my singing?"
"No. I mean, yes. I mean..." she sighed gently, "sing whatever you like, for all I care."
"Well," Jane responded, still resting his head, "we have another hour of driving ahead of us, so I thought I would try to lighten the mood." He turned his head toward her and grinned.
Lisbon took her eyes off the road and turned to look at him. "Who said I need my mood lightened?" The volume of her voice raised slightly.
"Ah, so you admit you're out of sorts today." He turned his head back and stared at the safety-belt warning on the underside of his sun visor.
Lisbon looked back to the road. "I didn't say that."
"But you are." He shifted and sat up, turning to look back to her. "You're particularly irritable this morning."
"Of course, you would notice." She glanced his way and then looked back to the highway.
"Yes, I noticed. But I dont know what's bothering you." A flicker of the emotion known as concern spread to Janes face, raising his eyebrows and wrinkling his forehead.
"Nor will you know." She kept her eyes on the shimmering road, holding her right arm out straight in a subconscious attempt to block Janes perception.
"You're sure you don't want to tell me anything?" Jane shifted again and did his best to turn himself to face her. "You can trust me." This time his smile was softer than usual.
"I know, it's just..." She looked over to him, his genuine sincerity catching her a bit off guard, "it's something I have to deal with on my own. I can't go around telling my team all my personal problems."
"I'm not your team, Lisbon, I'm just Patrick. It's just me, and you, and the car." He leaned in slightly and moved his hand toward her, placing it on the console between them, without touching her. "No one will know about whatever it is that's bothering you, except us."
"I know," Lisbon gripped the wheel with her left hand and dropped her other arm in her lap as she relaxed. "It's not that I don't appreciate your concern, but really, I'm not going to share."
"Not even a little detail?" His cheeky smirk returned.
Lisbon saw his face change, and even she let a delicate smile fall on her lips. "I'm not telling you. Stop asking." She lifted her arm to take the wheel with both her hands again.
"Alright, I'll stop asking." He turned forward again and adjusted himself to be more comfortable, rested his head on the seat, and faced upward, closing his eyes.
Lisbon felt him relax and glanced toward him. She shook her head at the fact that he seemed to give up so easily. "Thank you for being reasonable."
"Well, its not like I have a choice. I AM stuck in this car with you for another hour..."
Lisbon grinned and reached toward him and chuckled, "oh, stop it!" nudging his shoulder with her fist.
Jane looked at her with his ever-present grin. He leaned forward and pressed the little green button that turned on the satellite radio.
"How about some Beach Boys for our drive?"
***