Disclaimer- I do not own the mentalist, I do not make any money from Fan fiction- Who know writing a story could be so depressing?
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It was like a song, the CBI office. One endless piece of minimalism, only little things ever changing in the big scheme of things. Patrick Jane knew that; Patrick Jane saw it in action. Every second of every minute, every minute of ever hour, every hour of every day, every day of every week, every week of every year Patrick observed this song in action. Listened to it's every beat; It's every success; it's every failure; it's every change. He observed every change. He noted every change. He analysed every difference. And yet, he missed so many things. Getting caught up in the details, it left him ignorant to the broadest strokes of the paint brush. Missing these things could - would- cost Patrick Jane more than he could ever imagine, but he wasn't to know that for some time yet. He wasn't to know of the dangers in place- the trap that had been set- until he was caught. Until he and everything-everyone- he loved was gone.
Patrick Jane just didn't know that yet.
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Click. Click. Click. Constant typing. The first part of the song. Hard nails hitting plastic keys- short stubby fingers making contact with the buttons of a mouse. The feminine sound of Van Pelts typing as her fingers flew from one key to another. Cho's page turning of the most recent novel that was so big it would fill a bottomless hole. Rigsby chewing on a pen, already considering what his excuse would be to go and empty the fridge again. All just notes in the song; words to the poem; stem to a flower. These are the people who hold the world together, Patrick Jane smiled as he continued starring at the roof of the CBI building, lying on his couch. He hadn't yet noticed the little change of the day. The missing note in the song. The spelling mistake made by the poet. The footsteps of a person filled with rage became apparent, as Jane smiled at the thought of the argument that was about to occur.
"Where is Agent Lisbon?" La Roach bellowed oncee he was standing just a few feet away from each agent. "She isn't answering he phone and hasn't come to see me, as I asked her to." His eyes filled with rage as he looked at the bewildered agents.
"Where. Is. Lisbon." His jaw clenched as Cho stood at full height. Despite being several inches shorter than everyone else, he was still intimidating. Screw intimidating, Cho was damn right terrifying.
"Calm down, La Roach. I'm sure everything is fine. Personally, I haven't seen Lisbon today, but I think she is in her office. You need to calm down before yo-"
"She is not in her office, Cho. YOU REALLY THINK I DIDN'T LOOK THERE FIRST!" He shouted in the younger Agent's face. Cho's jaw locked. "Find me Agent Lisbon. Now."
La Roach turned on his heel and stormed out off the office. Cho dropped the stress ball he has been destroying and looked at his team.
"Has anyone else spoken to Lisbon today?
Jane sat up on his sofa and looked for everyone else's responses as he shook his head to indicate no himself. Rigsby and Van Pelt shook their heads too.
"It's 10AM and she's not here. That isn't just lateness. Van Pelt, try calling her. If there is no reply we will go to her apartment. Rigsby, start doing backgrounds on her. Find out if she has any family in the state. Find out if there is any reason she would have just picked up and left like this- family emergencies, anniversaries, anything. If you find nothing there, start looking at her old cases and see if anyone has been let out or if there are any family members of the people she has put away that have had an opportunity to get to her. I'm putting a BOLO out on her." Cho said, taking charge instantly.
"Cho?" Van Pelt piped up a few moments later. She had just put her phone down, after clearly having had no success with calling Lisbon.
"There's no answer. I did a GPS on her phone…" Van Pelt swallowed nervously, looking down.
Clearly the urgency of the situation had just begun to hit her. Jane swallowed and walked out of the room, picking up his car keys from the desk.
"Her phone is at the bottom of Folsom lake, in Folsom."