Red Letterbox
A/N: I haven't finished my other fanfic as yet, but I am suffering some writers block concerning that one. However, this little idea came to mind. I hope you enjoy it. A secondary title could be "Lost In The Mail". It will probably be a little creepy, but that is the sort of mood I'm in today. Enjoy.
Chapter one
The mail arrived at the usual time that morning, and Teresa Lisbon thought nothing of it. The postal service in Austen, Texas was surprisingly more efficient than in Sacramento. It was still early, and Lisbon didn't need to go in to work yet.
She picked up her mail, and sifted through an assortment of bills. A bright flash of crimson caught her eye, and she dropped the remaining letters onto the coffee table. The envelope was crimson, with neat black writing on it. What interested her was the original address. It was her old apartment in Sacramento. That address had been crossed out, and her new one studiously handwritten in next to it in blue pen.
She sat down and flipped the envelope over. There was no return address. She ripped it open and pulled out a letter. It was the same handwriting as her original address had been. She smoothed out the crisp white paper.
"Teresa." It began.
"I know that, for you to be reading this, I must have been killed. It's hardly unexpected, after Lorelei gave away such vital information. I never did like her. You must congratulate Patrick for finishing what he set out to do. It only took him ten years to figure it all out. I mean, I didn't think he would ever find out my true identity. So, congratulate him for me.
But ask yourself, is he satisfied with my death? Did killing me really bring back the family I took from him? And will he ever really move on from what happened?
I know that you have all moved on,
to greener, fairer grounds.
The CBI is now no more,
and happiness abounds.
Patrick Jane had his revenge,
a killer has deceased.
And now a life so broken up
can once more be increased.
But remember this one thing,
as you now all move on.
"Red John" left a legacy
even though I'm gone.
And one other thing, Ms Lisbon,
as you probably agree.
Life in Austen seems quite nice,
now that you both are free.
The expression on your face right now,
I wish that I could see.
"Red John" is always watching,
and you'll always think of me.
Remember, Teresa, I have friends. Even though I'm dead, you are still being watched.
Regards
Red John."
Lisbon dropped the paper like it was a burning coal. Her heart thumped in her chest, and she tried to calm herself down. This letter couldn't be from Red John. He had been dead for two years. And her move to Austen had only happened in the last six months. She picked up the crimson envelope, and read the postmark. The date stamped onto it made her hands quiver. It was postmarked as being sent shortly after Red John's death, from Sacramento itself. "But how?" wondered Lisbon out loud. "How did Red John know? I haven't even been here long."
The envelope was beginning to shake so much that Lisbon couldn't read the writing. This letter was definitely something that Jane would need to read. He would know if Red John had sent it.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Lisbon called Jane over to her desk. It had been a quiet afternoon at the FBI, and so there was some spare time. "Jane," said Lisbon as the man approached her desk. "Take a look at this."
Jane took the letter from her and read it carefully. When he was done, he looked at Lisbon. "When did you get this?"
Lisbon glanced around. "This morning. It arrived with all of my other mail."
Jane nodded. "Before we go any further, I want to say that this is definitely Red John's handwriting. I am sure of that much."
Lisbon's hands shook. "I don't know what to do about it, Jane."
Jane handed the paper back to her. "Ignore it. The man is gone. It is just a last attempt to intimidate us, Lisbon. But we know he's never coming back."
Lisbon nodded, wondering how he could brush it off so easily. Jane went and lay on his couch, and tried to come up for a reasonable explanation of how Red John would know where Lisbon had moved. But no solution came to him. The afternoon wore on, bus still no explanation. Jane hated puzzles without solutions.
Lisbon's mind wouldn't let her forget the poem, so neatly written. She had no idea how Red John could possibly have known where she was moving to. It disturbed her greatly, and she got very little work done that day.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Lisbon sat awake, unable to relax. The letter was sitting on the table in front of her, and Lisbon watched it fearfully. It seemed as though the paper itself might become the image of Red John if she stared long enough. Of course, nothing happened. But Lisbon couldn't help but ask the question; how? The word continued to spin through her mind. There were not possible solutions she could come up with that made sense. This letter had thrown a spanner into her careful engine, and threatened to destroy it all. Lisbon knew she could find no possible answer; but still, she tried.
There was no answer. And that was possibly the scariest thing of all.
A/N2: I hope you have enjoyed this installment. Please leave me a review and tell me what you think of my efforts. I would greatly appreciate it.