Thank you so much for the lovely comments and reviews! I had hoped to get back to you all this time - but it's been a crazy week. Please know how touched I was and how glad I am that people seem to be enjoying this little series. I have a few more characters to write so watch for the next installment. Thanks!
He was in a bad mood. He should never have agreed to come. Initially he'd refused – absolutely, categorically refused to come. He wasn't about to leave Austin to help out the FBI in California and that had been the end of it.
And then Cho had asked him to do it for him, as a favor. Damn it, and they accused him of being a manipulator! They needed to see Kimball Cho at work. He was the master of them all.
Because how could he possibly refuse Cho, the man who had been a faithful friend for so many years? How many times had Cho done things for him – sometimes things bordering on the illegal? How often had Cho had his back, even when he'd been – irritating? Okay, when he'd been a downright pain in the ass!
So no, he couldn't say no to Cho, so here he was on a plane, flying to LA.
Initially they'd invited both Teresa and him, but when it had been explained to them that Teresa was on maternity leave, having recently given birth, they'd then asked Jane to come alone.
And he'd refused. His son was barely a month old and he didn't want to miss any days, or nights, watching the little boy grow. He'd lost his daughter, would never get to see her grow up, and he refused to miss out any of his son's life.
And Teresa needed him. She was doing amazingly well as a new mother, but it was hard. Little Michael still woke up at night to nurse so Jane made it a point to change the baby's diaper after he'd been fed. Besides that, he needed to cook healthy meals for Teresa and keep her company. He wanted to be with her, not in California dealing with some stupid case.
The FBI had contacted Cho and asked if they could borrow their Agent Lisbon and the Consultant Patrick Jane for a politically charged, sensitive case. The Governor had decided that it would be expedient to bring in outside help; agents completely unconnected in any way to any of the players.
He'd asked the FBI to find an agent or agents who would be most likely to solve the case, with the minimum of fuss. The answer had been Lisbon and Jane.
Patrick had to laugh at that. Teresa would certainly be able to tiptoe through a politically sensitive mine field – she was good at that, him, on the other hand? He wondered if they'd even glanced at his record.
So, after initially saying no, Cho had taken him out for a beer, which was a mean and sneaky thing to do. Jane figured his so-called friend had intentionally weakened his ability to say no, and then had pulled the "as a favor for me," out of his hat. "The scoundrel!" he muttered.
There was no way he could refuse, so here he was, on his way to Sacramento.
He was in a bad mood.
He arrived at the airport and his mood turned from bad to foul. It was crowded and the traffic jams were horrible. He waited forever for the shuttle to come to take him to the rental car place. When he finally got there, he had to wait in line until he could get his car.
By the time he was done, and on the road, he was in a really bad mood. He groaned as he pulled up to an intersection. He'd forgotten how bad California traffic could be. He really didn't want to be doing this.
And what made it worse was that Teresa had made him promise – promise – that he would be careful and be on his best behavior. He was barred from playing any tricks on people, insulting anyone of importance and running off on his own without telling anyone. He was to stay close to the FBI agents and let them handle anything dangerous. He was supposed to consult! "Meh," he muttered. "I could consult over the phone. If they want me to solve this case, then they should let me do it my way," he'd muttered.
Except he'd promised Teresa, and if there's one thing he'd vowed to himself, it was that he was never going to lie or break promises to her ever again.
She was his salvation, his life, she and now Michael. He was not about to let her down.
But he was in a bad mood.
He arrived at the FBI headquarters after fighting traffic all the way there. He pulled into the underground parking and wished he could turn around and head home. He missed Teresa and the baby.
"Mr. Jane, thank you for coming." A man in a suit approached him the moment he entered the building. Ah, a generic FBI agent, thought Jane. How is it they looked the same no matter where you were? He shook the man's hand and said hello. See Teresa, I'm being good.
Agent Jeremy Carter took him to a conference room where he introduced him to other generic agents who were working the case. They spent the next hour telling him everything they thought he needed to know. He could tell by looking at them, that most of them were not happy he'd been invited onto the case. They looked at him in not-so-hidden contempt, sure that a consultant couldn't possibly do what they'd been unable to do for weeks.
The case involved the murder of a young intern – the adopted daughter of a prominent and very wealthy businessman, and friend and supporter of the governor. There were no suspects and the girl had been found naked and mutilated. The coroner suspected that she had been pregnant, and the fetus removed to prohibit identification of the father.
The businessman, Frank Macelli, was demanding answers and his friend the Governor came down hard on local law-enforcement. When the police hadn't been able to find anything, the case had been turned over to the FBI, who'd had it for over two weeks with no leads. It was then that Patrick had been brought in.
Jane looked around the room at the group of young, arrogant FBI agents and bit his tongue. Be good Patrick, he told himself. You promised Teresa.
"So Jane," Agent William Blair regarded him with a smirk. "What exactly does a consultant to the FBI do?"
"I consult," Jane answered with a smile.
"Yeah? But what exactly is that? You have us get in a circle and sing "Kumbaya" so we feel good about ourselves as a team?"
"Do you want to sing Kumbaya?"
Someone sniggered and Jane smirked and continued to look at the file.
"Figured out who the guilty one is yet?" Blair asked after a few seconds.
The agent was young – he couldn't be more than thirty – and cocky. Jane thought back to his CBI team – all of them had been young when he'd started there, but none had been as arrogant as these clowns. They needed to learn a lesson.
"Agent Blair is it?" he asked. "I'm afraid I haven't had the time to go through everything yet. But you're smart right? Honors student, on the college debate team, joined the FBI because Daddy worried you were a bit of a sissy so you decided to prove him wrong. And now here you are."
Blair turned red, but before he had a chance to speak, Jane went on. "So I assume you checked out Claire Macelli's brother?"
"What?" Blair looked confused. "She didn't have a brother. She was adopted."
"And adopted kids don't have siblings? Well she did. Raymond Ellis is her brother. They were separated when Claire was five. He grew up in foster care after she was adopted."
"How do you know that?'
"By reading the file, which says she was taken away from her drug addicted mother at the age of five and a sibling was placed in foster care. After her mother gave up custody, Claire was adopted by the Macelli's. And of course all you have to do is look at the picture of Ellis and you can tell they were related."
"You can?" Blair grabbed the picture and looked at it. "I don't see it! And anyway, what does that have to do with anything? The only reason his picture is there is because the cause of death was similar. There's nothing that points to any kind of connection between the two."
"And that's why you need a consultant," Jane told him with a cheeky grin. "I don't know what their connection means at this point, but it could be important, especially since Ellis was found dead only a day after Claire."
"Maybe," Blair was forced to concede, "but that still doesn't tell us who the person behind this whole thing is."
"No, that's true although you might want to bring Senator Anderson in for questioning."
"Yeah right," Blair laughed, "and flush our careers down the john!"
"Really?" Jane raised his eyebrows and looked at the assembled agents. "Hmm, well I guess if you're worried I can go to see him." Jane stood up and headed towards the door. "I assume he's at the State House? Does anyone have his room number?"
"Hey, no way," Carter said, jumping up and following Jane. "You can't just go and see a Senator."
"Why not?" Jane asked, stopping and turning. "Didn't the people elect him? Isn't he there to serve the people? Aren't I one of the people? And anyway, I'm sure he'd like the opportunity to clear his name."
"Why would he want to do that?" Agent Lopez asked, looking confused. "He's not been implicated in anything. He doesn't have anything to clear. Claire Macelli didn't even work for him."
"No, but she knew him and he has a bit of a reputation where young ladies are concerned. So, he may not have anything to clear right now," Jane smiled. "But I'm sure he will – soon." On those words he exited the room, a whole group of stunned agents left behind.
"Uh – I'm coming with you," Carter said as he followed Jane out. "I'm been told not to leave you on your own."
"Really? Who's order was that?"
"We got word from an Agent T. Lisbon in Austen. Do you know him? Is he your boss?"
"Oh yeah, I know – Agent Lisbon. As for boss -?", he laughed He was really going to Teresa for this.
"Hey, do you know where you're going?" Carter asked as he followed him out of the elevator.
"Mmm. I used to live in Sacramento," he said, walking towards the front lobby.
"Come on, I'll drive you," the agent said, motioning for him to follow. "Were you with the FBI?" he asked.
Jane looked at him in surprise. "I was a consultant with the CBI," he said, wondering if the penny would drop and Carter would realize who he was. Anyone who had lived in Sacramento had to have heard of him.
"Really? Wow, I heard about them. I'm from Michigan – only came hear a year ago but I heard that the CBI was dismantled after they found a whole bunch of crooked cops had infiltrated it."
"Mmm – and the FBI and in government – it wasn't just the CBI."
"No? It was something, though, wasn't it. People still talk about what happened and about that serial killer – Red John – who was part of the corruption. I was told he got strangled. Some guy chased after him for years after his family was murdered and finally got him. Good riddance, I say. Were you here when all that when down?"
"Yes," he said shortly.
"Yeah? Did you know the guy?"
"Guy?"
"The guy who killed Red John. He also helped bring down the Blake Association. He was a psychic or something weird like that."
Jane wanted to groan. Cho so owed him for this! "Not a psychic," he said. "There are no such things."
"You're not a believer huh?" Carter grinned as he opened the car door. "I don't know – I heard this guy was pretty amazing. He helped solve a lot of cases."
"Mmm, did he?"
"Yeah, that's what they say. I even heard one story where he actually buried a guy alive to make him confess. Of course I didn't believe it. No one could do that and get away with it, but it did make for a good story."
Agent Carter chatted all the way to the State House – which fortunately wasn't too far away. Jane wanted to either jump out of the car, or laugh. He'd become a legend in his own time. He'd have to tell Teresa.
"So, we're here. What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to go talk to the Senator and ask him about Claire."
Carter looked skeptical, but faithfully followed him into the State House. He was about to see a master at work.
By the end of the day Jane had gotten the Senator to confess that he'd seduced Claire Macelli and had gotten her pregnant. At the urging of her brother, Raymond Ellis, she'd tried to blackmail Anderson, which would have destroyed his reputation, his marriage and his political career.
The Senator had then arranged to have her killed, at which point Ellis had come forward, demanding even more money. Unfortunately his greed was greater than his intelligence and he'd ended up dead soon afterward.
Jane had closed the case in one day, to the dismay of the agents assigned to the case, and to the relief of the governor. He got a personal phone call from the man, which he couldn't have cared less about, although he'd have to tell Teresa he'd been on his best behavior and had responded appropriately. The call from Cho was different – he really did appreciate that one. And the call from Teresa was the best one of all.
"So, I heard the Governor is a happy man," she'd said. "He told the Director that you'd performed a miracle and found the culprit in less than a day."
"Pfft, it was easy. You would have figured it out weeks ago. I don't know who the FBI is hiring now, but they're not very bright."
"Yes, well if the Governor is happy, the Director is happy, which makes Cho happy – and makes him look good.
"Cho serves it. And no wonder the Governor is happy. This destroyed a major political rival of the Governor. Anderson was planning to run for Governor himself, and early polls showed him with quite a lead."
"Wow – you do think that he was guilty though?"
"Mmm hmm – absolutely." He chatted for a few more minutes with Teresa, and spoke to his son – who Teresa told him was listening on the speaker phone. He then told them both he loved them and clicked off his phone. He wished he was back in Austen.
He made his way out of the FBI building, planning to head back to his hotel. A couple of the agents – Carter and a guy by the name of Fields, who seemed pretty decent, had invited him out to dinner, but he'd declined. He didn't feel like being on his best behavior that evening.
He was in a bad mood.
"Patrick Jane – what brought you here to disturb our calm tranquility?"
He swung around, a grin on his face, when he recognized the voice. "Virgil! What are you doing here?"
Virgil Manelli regarded him somberly. "I heard that someone had come in and solved a difficult case in a few hours and had pissed off some FBI agents in doing it. I instantly knew it could only be Jane."
"I missed you too Virgil," Patrick replied, walking up and giving him a hug. He stepped back. "But how did you hear about it so quickly? You're no longer with law enforcement."
"Come on – let's go get a drink and I'll tell you about it. Oh, and you're paying." Once they'd arrived at a little pub close to the State House, Virgil found them a quiet corner and sat down. The two men ordered beers and then Virgil explained.
"The Governor is a fishing buddy of mine. Who do you think told him about your team?"
"You're telling me I have you to thank for dragging me out here, away from my family," Patrick asked.
"Yes." There was a pause. "Your family? Is there something I should know?"
Patrick looked puzzled. "You know about Teresa – that we're married?"
"Yes, I knew that, although I would like to point out that you did not invite me to the wedding, even though I was the one responsible for bringing you together."
"You were?" Jane sounded amused.
"Yes. Who saw the potential in you? Who hired you? Who gave you a chance when no one else would? Who had you report to Lisbon? All of those things led to the two of you getting together and I was the one responsible."
"But I must point out that you did nothing to try and encourage a relationship between Teresa and me. In fact it was years later before we became a couple."
"Yes, but I sewed the seeds! It was obvious, even early on, that Teresa felt something more for you than she felt for the rest of her team. I was definitely the one who brought you together." Virgil looked suitably proud of himself.
"Yes – well, thank you – and I'm sorry we didn't invite you to the wedding but there really wasn't time. It all happened rather suddenly."
"Mmm – okay," Virgil agreed. "Just don't do it next time."
"I don't plan for there to be a next time," Jane said definitively.
"No, I don't suppose you do," Virgil answered, for once looking sincere. "But you said family – or did you just mean Teresa?" he asked, realizing he needed to change the subject.
Jane grinned and pulled out his phone. He turned it on and searched until he found what he was looking for and then handed it to Virgil. "Michael Charles Jane, three and a half weeks old and the pride and joy of his parents."
Virgil tilted his head back and pushed his glasses up peered at the picture of his former agent holding a newborn. He laughed softly and then handed the phone back. "Congratulations Jane. You have a beautiful family there."
"I know," Patrick said softly, staring down at the screen. "I miss them."
"I must admit, I never thought I'd see this day," Virgil mused. "I figured you were too -" he paused as if searching for the work.
"Obsessed? Crazy?"
"Irritating!" Virgil snapped back.
Patrick laughed. "It's a gift."
"More like a curse! My curse. Do you have any idea how many complaints I had to field about you?"
"Yes. Teresa reminded me all the time. But if I was so – irritating – why did you keep me on?"
The older man considered him for a moment and then took another sip of beer, which almost, but not quite, hid his smile. "You solved cases, which made me look good. And you were amusing. Life was getting too predictable until you came along."
"I'm glad to have been of service," Jane raised his glass in a salute.
"Mmm." Virgil sat back and stared at the other man as if deciding whether or not to speak. Finally he leaned forward and looked earnestly at the man across the table. "I was actually going to say "damaged" he admitted. "You were a broken man when you first came to us."
Patrick looked down, not moving. A second later he took a breath, and his finger suddenly started tracing the rim of his glass.
"Yes, I was," he answered, so quietly the other man could barely hear. "Still am, in some ways," he admitted with a grin, although his eyes remained serious. "But Teresa – brought me back."
"I believe she did," Manelli nodded. "But you know that you were the saving of her too, don't you? She was much more interesting after you came alone."
"Was she?" Jane grinned. "I'll have to tell her you said that."
"Don't you dare!" Virgil glared at him. "You and she are a lot a like. She was almost as obsessed as you, although in a different way."
"Her work?" Jane asked, although he knew the answer already.
"Mmm hmm. Lisbon always felt she had to save the world – and then you came along and she was so busy keeping you from getting killed, getting others killed, or ending up in jail that she no longer had to obsess about the job. So, you see, not only was I responsible for bringing the two of you together, I was indirectly responsible for providing you with an entire new outlook on life!"
Jane laughed – suddenly glad he'd come to Sacramento. He'd forgotten how much he liked this man. "I guess I owe you one Virgil," he gave another salute with his beer.
"That you do," Manelli nodded. "I suppose I should say that coming out here and solving this case helped cancel some of the debt."
"Just some?"
"Don't be greedy Patrick. And the Governor is a friend, but not that good a friend."
"But you made me leave my wife and new son," Jane reminded him.
Manelli sighed "True. I understand now why you weren't happy to have been brought here for this case. And here I thought you'd enjoy a chance to get back to Sacramento."
Jane looked around briefly. "Maybe I would have if it wasn't for Teresa and the baby. And I don't really know too many here anymore – except you," he chuckled. "Do you know, I was talking to one of the FBI agents here, and he asked me if I'd ever heard about the Blake Association or Red John. He had no idea who I was. I must admit it was refreshing."
"I imagine it would be. What did you say?"
"Not much, just that I'd heard about it. That – chapter – in my life is closed and I didn't want to get into it. But enough about me. Tell me, how are you doing? Still spending all your time fishing?"
This time Virgil reached for his phone and hit the screen a few times. A few seconds later he handed it to Jane.
On the screen in front of him was a picture of May – but she wasn't alone. Sitting with her were two children, who looked to be about eight and ten years old.
"So, you and May?"
"Mmm hmm – married two years."
"I don't remember getting an invite to the wedding Virgil."
"Touché," Virgil chuckled. "We just went to the court house. No guests."
"Congratulations, she's a great lady. And I would like to point out that I was directly responsible for getting the two of you together. So the truth is that you owe me!"
"Okay fine," Manelli said, rolling his eyes. "Let's say we're even."
"Uh uh," Jane answered with a smirk. "Sorry. You still owe me."
"You haven't changed, have you?"
Patrick grinned. "Or, you could tell me who the two young kids are in the picture, and then we'll call it even." the former consultant told him.
Virgil looked down again at the picture, and smiled. "May always wanted children. We're too old, of course, so we decided to take in foster children. These are Veronica and Octavio."
"Foster kids? Good for you Virgil."
"Actually, we were able to adopt them," the former agent said. "Best thing, after May, I ever did." He chuckled. "She's now saying we should take in some more kids although I keep telling her I'm really too old for this but she just sighs and rolls her eyes. I expect we'll have at least a couple of more to live with us."
"So, grumpy old guy with a lovely wife and a household of kids? I couldn't be happier for you Virgil. You deserve this."
"Thank you Patrick. So, you see that everything worked out just fine. Getting Hannigan to hit you was probably one of the smartest things you ever did."
"I have a knack for it," he said, unconsciously rubbing his nose. "But yes, I thought so."
"Don't tell me you planned it?" laughed Manelli.
"Well – I didn't plan to get hit but once I had, I quickly saw the – opportunity."
"I don't know why I didn't figure that out. But at least we both benefitted from it."
"I wonder what ever happened to him?" Jane mused.
"Hannigan? Oh, he got fired. Got mad at an Assistant DA over some case and broke his nose. I hear he's a mall cop now."
"Poor guy. That's what happens when you let anger control your life."
"Yeah, I guess. So, you headed back to Texas right away?"
"Mmm hmm. They wanted me to stay and do some interviews but I told them no. I'm heading back tomorrow morning."
"I'm glad we had a chance to get together."
"Me too," Jane gave a sweet smile – one he reserved for true friends. "And give my love to May. If you guys ever get out to Texas, look us up."
"Thanks. And give my love and congratulations to Teresa – and tell her how much I admire her courage."
"She is courageous – but I assume you're referring to something specific?"
"She took you on for over ten years and then married you. That takes real courage."
Instead of laughing, Jane's expression became serious and he looked down. A moment later he lifted his head and regarded Manelli. "It does – more than you'll ever know. She – saved me." He paused. "But so did you Virgil – and for that I want to thank you. I may have sounded glib about it, but you hiring me, working at the CBI – that gave me a purpose in life other than vengeance. And it gave me friends and – a future with my wife and child. I can't really ever repay you for that, so – thank you."
Virgil stared back at him, his face somber, his eyes full of some deep emotion Jane knew was a combination of compassion for what he'd gone through, pleasure that Jane was now happy, and pride in him for how far he'd come.
A slow and lop-sided grin appeared on Virgil's face. "Yes you can. You can buy me another beer."
Patrick grinned in response and he nodded. "Bartender," he called, "another beer for – my friend."