Red Rover - Sequel to The Scarlet Thread
By: LionQueen (Based off of CBS - The Mentalist)
"TIGER, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night ..." A peaceful darkness had settled in, so calm that not even a breeze disturbed it. Peaceful, except for a small voice. A whisper, soft but unwavering.
"And what shoulder and what art Could twist the sinews of thy heart?" She was moving through the darkness, her naked feet making no sound, as she strayed farther from the light behind her. She was following the voice, the whisper. She knew it. It was guiding her where eyes couldn't see … she was getting closer.
"Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee?" There was something there, or perhaps someone. A flicker of the smallest light ... just a few more steps and she would reach it … she would reach her.
"Abbie?" Then the urgency set in. The light flickered ... as if threatening to disappear, and the voice with it. Careful footsteps became a stride which then turned into a run. She stumbled over debris under her bare feet … running faster … but she wasn't moving.
"Abbie!" There was a small figure there, far beyond her reach. It wasn't so much a figure, as it had no solidity about it. It was a mist, shapely and not very tall, as if an impression left there by a small child.
"He said say goodbye!"
"NO." Her chest heaved in and out with hasty breaths. She blinked and then with all of the energy within, screamed the child's name once more, darting forward, towards the mist. Her outstretched arms were meant to grab onto and hold the figure, but the mist broke into wisps of vapor. The vapor moved between her fingers and then dissolved.
A bright beam tore through the darkness, shooting daggers of light into her eyes. Her arms flew up over her face as she jumped at the horn. "Crazy ass lady, get the hell out of the road. Are you nuts or somethin?"
The hem of her pale blue nightgown rippling in the breeze, she stepped back and then stared bleary-eyed at the car. She continued staring as the driver blurted a few more insults, concluding that she was truly in need of psychiatric help and then tore off, throwing up bits of gravel with the back wheels.
She stood there for a moment, blinking and following the road with her eyes. The fact that she'd walked out into the middle of the street in her sleep didn't seem to phase her. She turned and looked behind, to the path leading up to her house. She fixed her eyes on it for a moment and then began to wander aimlessly over to the side of the road.
She happened on a small path to the left. She didn't know the path, she didn't have a particular destination. Mind blank and thoughts scattered, she just followed it, not caring where it led.. There in her bare feet and the hem of her gown growing damp in the morning dew, she walked in the dark moments before sunrise.
The path turned into a bridge, overlooking the river below. It's rusty metal floor was unusually cool considering the muggy air, and slick from the dew. She gazed over the water, rippling with a strong current and turning pink under the coming break of day. She stood there for hours, breathing staggered.
And like the soulless raven, whispering nevermore, the birds chirped and flitted overhead as though they were mocking her.
"You know, you're never gonna find a boyfriend if you don't talk, Mom." "No, it's my mess. I can clean it up." "Look at your daughter." "Everything I do, every decision I make … It's for Abbie. Do you understand me?"
Her eyes tightly closed, she tried to will away the words. But they rolled through her head faster than movie credits.
"... there's no one who could possibly feel what I feel ... know what I know." "I don't let people get close to her." "Are you going to let one event define you? Set the precedent for the rest of your life?" "He says to tell you …G … Goodbye." "Do you think he planned it this way? That he … Manipulated us?"
Heavy with the emptiness within, she quietly moved over the rail and placed her feet on the wet, serrated edges as if she were perched on the edge of a blade. Shivering, her gown tossed in the breeze while she fixed a steady gaze over the tumbling water underneath the bridge.
Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee? The vapor moved between her fingers and then dissolved. She was alone.
Chapter 1 : Red Kisses
It was a muggy, sticky kind of morning, not typical of the season. Not what most people would consider typical for California. A bleary, sun was breaking over the quiet suburban neighborhood, saying hello to the setting moon.
Beneath the dull haze, a trailer, rustic and rather out of place, sat parked within the splay of brick homes surrounding it. The neighborhood was either sleeping still or barely awake.
The CBI had organized a raid just after dawn. Anthony Sheldon was their target. Not only was he a popular drug dealer but he had also been supplying guns to the leader of a very powerful gang. They had hoped to arrest him and offer a deal in exchange for information and his testimony.
They didn't count on their plan failing.
"All clear." A males voice poured out of the doorway. This was Kimball Cho, the poker-faced Asian man, who could typically be found reading a book in the middle of a stake-out or beating Rigsby to the donuts in the office. He had swayed up to the door of the trailer, but noticed the door had already been opened before he knocked.
He and Wayne went in first. They poked around a little, but the one room trailer was so small that there wasn't much space to cover.
"Yes, Yes ...of course. " Patrick Jane mumbled, sauntering in as if the trailer belonged to him.
"Uh .. Uh Jane" Lisbon protested and then shook her head. "… I swear."
It was a daily challenge, both doing her job and keeping Jane in check. Now, here he was, bolting forward as a kid running after the ice cream truck. She let out a sigh, shook her head and then fell in line through the door.
Van Pelt was next. She tossed a palm over her mouth and nose once inhaling the sharp pungent odor. "What is that?"
Rigsby tilted his head over the couch in the center of the room. "That is ... Mr. Sheldon." Then he tilted his head back towards Grace. "At least I think."
In Cho's initial assessment, he'd failed to mention the dead body melting in the heat. Yet, it's presence was obvious as the nose on your face.
The home was rather neat, considering it's occupant. The floors were carpeted and bare. A small older model television unit was set atop a small coffee table across from the couch. One would assume Sheldon slept on the couch as there was no bed to be found, if there was room for one at all.
"Well, '' Lisbon noted. " Looks like Pike got to him first and … Jane, what are you doing? … Jane? "
Patrick peeked over the refrigerator door, one side of his mouth curling upwards. " Oh, just looking."
He straightened himself upright, feeling duped at coming up empty handed, when he was hoping for a leftover something. Every kitchen, even the ones belonging to the most hardened criminals, had something to eat, some sort of tasty snack lurking around. Potato chips, cookies … a muffin maybe?
This one was bare … who ever heard of such a thing … not even a crumb.
He was sniffing around the cubbard above the stove when he stiffened slightly at the thump to the right of him. It wasn't so much the thump that disturbed him, but the four guns aimed in his general direction.
Patrick Jane hated guns. They were distasteful things, necessary - but unsettling. Every time his eyes moved over one, or his ears heard the familiar " pop", he was reminded that eventually he would have to push aside all this uneasiness, the rational part of himself, and let the crazy out. Regardless of what anyone else believed, or whatever faith they had invested in him. He knew, as sure as the breath moving through his chest ... the moment would come.
He slid his hand out of his pocket and waved off their concern, unconsciously and without actual words, saying "Put those things away."
Ignoring Lisbon's verbal warning, he stepped deliberately to his right, as the others leaned forward. They leaned forwards even more when he ducked down, beyond their view.
Lisbon lifted her chin a bit, thinking the last time he'd disappeared behind a car door. He'd, then, reappeared with with a baby in his arms. What would it be this time? A puppy ?
His golden locks rose up from behind the counter along with his usual sheepish grin. Tucked in his arms was a ball of auburn fur and a black nose with a hint of a pink tongue. Lisbon nodded her head. A puppy.
"Oh how cute!" Grace's face lit up as a girlish smile spread across her cheeks.
Lisbon glanced at Van Pelt with a hint of envy. Grace was tough enough to catch a criminal and soft enough to gush over babies and puppies. She could do her job and yet still walk away retaining her caring, nurturing nature. Something Lisbon found very difficult to do while keeping up her hard exterior.
When Lisbon had endured as much of the mush as she could stand, she set her shoulders back and drew a breath. "Ok. Nothing left for us here … let's go."
The emt's were weaving their way into the cramped trailer as the CBI team left one by one through the door and out into the open air.
"Oh thank God." Rigsby blurted. "I thought I was gonna barf in there … that smell."
He turned to Cho, who's expression had not changed from the moment they walked into the door until they walked out again. "How the hell can you do that?"
"Do what? " Cho responded, gazing straight forwardly at Rigsby.
'Well you … I mean it was ….the odor in there … and ..." Wayne tried to continue, but Cho's unbroken expressionless gaze wouldn't allow him. He shook his head as he turned from Cho. "Never mind."
Cho shrugged and then headed for the car.
Lisbon was almost to the drivers side when she spotted Jane cuddling a box under his arm. "Jane, please don't tell me ..."
Patrick made his way around the front end until he was standing next to her. "What?"
A black nose popped up from the edge of the box, threw out a long pink tongue and licked Lisbon's cheek. He smirked, turning to get into the back seat.
"Ok. I won't tell you."
"Jane, you can't bring that puppy into the CBI."
"Oh, shush. " He playfully bit back. " Must you be so anal about everything? "
Cho sitting in the middle next to him, reached a hand out to the puppy.
Rigsby slid into the seat across from Jane, holding his head down, attempting to hide his own smirk. This earned him an elbow poke from Van Pelt who was seated on the passengers side.
"Anal!" Lisbon grumbled. "Anal? You don't even know anal, so don't talk about what you don't know. We're going back to the station and then you are going to do something with that dog! "
"Ok."
"I don't care " She continued as if he'd begun telling her what he would do with it " …. but you are not bringing it into CBI ... that's final."
"Ok." He repeated until she glared at him from the rear view mirror. " You better not be mocking me."
"Bah! Mock you?" He laughed. "Now why would I do that?"
"Just get rid of that dog!"
Hello fellow writers! Hope things are well with you. I've had this story, as well as my story from Lost, rolling around in my head for quite sometime now. I've also still got my Christmas fic for The mentalist coming ... my personal life has just taken over. Anyway, early on during the first season of The mentalist, I began writing "The Scarlet Thread." The reviews were wonderful and the reviewers were equally wonderful.
There are a few blunders in that one which I will eventually revisit and fix - Cho's name and Rigsby's dad, for instance. If you've read the first part of the story then you know what's up. If you haven't read it, then you'll miss some of the nuances but you still might enjoy the story anyway. Hope you like and I'll try to update soon. Thanks! ~ LionQueen