AN: I'm back, thank God! :D
Hi all. Miss me? Well, since my pc chose to break down about a month ago, I think it's time for me to start writing something for your entertainment, don't you? So, here it is, one more chapter. Btw, Rachel is around 15, meaning she was 10 when Red John killed her mother.
Disclaimer: I can honestly say I don't own a thing, but Rachel is mine.
5 YEARS LATER
He opened his eyes to see the red smiley face staring back at him.
He couldn't sleep. He knew that his dreams would be haunted with images of his wife laying in a pool of her own blood.
5 years passed since her death, but to him, everything seemed to have happened yesterday. The memories were still fresh in his mind.
Glancing at the clock, he saw the alarm would went off in ten minutes so he still had the time to think about what he would do that day.
After dropping off his daughter in school he would head to Sacramento for an appointment with the Director of the Californian Bureau of Investigation.
Apparently, the Serious Crimes Unit had the Red John file, so off he was to find more clues about his wife's murderer. He already knew everything about the serial killer and basically, only one thing was still missing: Red John's identity.
Hellbent on avenging his wife's death, he dismissed every single woman who hit on him with the exception of the woman in his life...
BEEP BEEP BEEP
And he was waking her up right now.
His fingers tickled her mercilessly.
"Dad, please. I'm awake, I'm awake."
"Come on missy, you need to shower and get dressed. I'll drop you off at school."
His daughter sighed dramatically and mumbled something dark about school and crazy schedules.
"You know dad, I could follow your footsteps and become a fake psychic."
"Meh, you need to study to become a psychic."
"Oh really? So how come you never went to High School?"
"That's because your grandfather discovered my skills and made me a famous person."
"At a carnival."
"Still counts."
"Does not."
"Yes, it does."
"Then why can't you discover my skills?"
"Because you're my daughter and I would never use you as a meaning to an end."
She crossed her arms and grumbled, glaring at him.
"That's not fair."
"Life's not fair young lady, you'll learn that through the years sweetheart. Now, get your lazy butt out of bed and get ready. I'll be in the kitchen making breakfast."
"Pancakes?"
"With a LOT of syrup."
"Love you."
He was amazed. His daughter, even with what had happened, had never tried to find support in others but him. She had never done anything wrong in her 15 years to deserve the death of her mother and a selfish bastard as a dad, but still, she loved him and she supported him in everything he needed.
His stomach grumbled and he decided it would be better to prepare the so loved pancakes before his daughter turned into a monster, since she was in that time of the month.
"You'll sleep at Cris' house tonight?"
"Yeah. Her mother will drop us off tomorrow."
"Okay then. Listen Rach, call me..."
"If I need anything."
"Yes and, please, just..."
"Be careful."
"Good. I..."
"I love you too dad."
"Hang on a sec. How did you know..."
"You were going to say that? What can I say? I'm a mentalist's daughter. See you tomorrow dad."
The smile, the cockiness, well, she was a mentalist's daughter alright.
"Smartass."
