Chapter 1
It was a typical morning. Rigsby was trying to get ideas from Van Pelt and Cho for Ben's birthday gift, and it seemed that they were coming up with ridiculous ideas. Jane was semi-asleep on his couch, but awoke as Lisbon walked into the bullpen.
"Let's go, we have a case," she said. "Van Pelt, I want you to stay here and coordinate, we'll send you information when we get it." Van Pelt nodded, and Cho and Rigsby got up to follow Lisbon.
"Jane, come on, you're coming with us," Lisbon ordered, and although Jane looked like he would rather be sleeping, he got up and followed the team.
An hour later, they pulled up to a small, white bungalow. There was already a police car out front.
The team entered the house and showed their badges to the sheriff. "I'm Agent Lisbon, this is Agent Cho, Agent Rigsby and Patrick Jane. What do we got?"
The sheriff led the team into the living room. "72 year old male, blunt force trauma to the head. His name is Victor Garell. He was home alone while his wife was at the store, she came home and found this. Doesn't look like a robbery, nothing seems to be missing," the sheriff said. He had a clear no-nonsense attitude.
Jane takes his time looking around the room. "Married, but they weren't in love with each other. They weren't even really close friends, they just lived together."
"How can you tell?" Rigsby questioned.
Jane smiled. "There's no pictures, no knick knacks, nothing personal at all. This is a house but not a home, neither of them feels any attachment to it, and those feelings extend to their marriage."
"Where is the wife?" Lisbon questioned the sheriff.
"She's in the kitchen, I told her that you guys would want to talk to her. I'm going to head out, we just busted a meth lab and there's a ton of paperwork. You give me a call if you need anything," the sheriff said, gesturing in the direction of the kitchen. It connected to the living room; there was no door in between the two rooms.
"Thank you Sheriff. Jane, you're with me," Lisbon ordered. When they walked into the kitchen, they saw her sitting alone at the table. She looked to be in her mid-to-late sixties, with grey hair tied back in a loose bun. Even though she was sitting, she was obviously not a tall woman. She looked up as Lisbon began to introduce herself and Jane, but the woman cut her off.
"Patrick…of course. Someone's life is ruined and here you are. I should have known you would show up." The bitterness in the woman's voice was tangible, and as Lisbon turned towards Jane, she saw the initial confusion on his face fade away. He turned slightly pale, and although he carefully arranged his features in a neutral expression, Lisbon knew him well enough to see the hint of trepidation behind his blue eyes. Perhaps even more surprisingly, Jane did not say a word. He simply stared at the woman in front of him, and she glared back.