Chapter 2
AN-Okay, so you guys are all asking…why so long? The Holidaze. I was really busy over Thanksgiving, so…my apologies. Thanks to all who were so kind to review and the folks who added me to their alerts. I love you all!
Here you go!
Teresa stared at the happy face that Red John left Patrick Jane five years ago. The blood had dried to a rust color that would never leave the paint on the wall. It was happy yet angry at the same time. The mere thought that Jane had left it on the wall for so long was the sign that something was seriously still wrong with him. She had to push that entire train of thought out of her mind and focus on what was in front of her, the scene of what looked an apparent abduction of Patrick Jane.
To go through such tragedy and come out the other side somewhat sane was a tribute to him, but everything she and her team had studied about the human mind made her wonder. She looked around the room for what felt like the hundreth time, seeing if anything could place where Jane might have been taken. She had called the Attorney General when the local PD arrived, it was important that he knew about Jane's disappearance before the media and she sent Van Pelt to deal with the press. Cho was too fired up to stop working the scene and Grigsby had stepped out of the room to send materials to be processed back to the lab.
"Boss, can you think of anything else?" Cho asked looking up from his photography.
"No," Lisbon replied, trying to hide her frustration, "You do realize that this is literally two crime scenes in one. We don't know where the original case ends and last night starts."
"He hasn't made it easy for us," Cho said, "I can't seem to figure out if the fingerprints are his or others."
"You've taken them all?" Lisbon asked.
"Yes, I have," Cho continued, "It seems like there was some form of fight, but they overpowered him pretty fast."
"Overpowered Jane," Rigsby surmised, "He's not the fighter type so, did they knock him out or drug him, that's my question."
"Mine as well," Lisbon added, "We need to go over the original scene back at the office, gentlemen, add this one to it. We also need to figure out who would be after Jane. Who would kidnap him?"
"Red John," Rigsby said softly, trying to hide the fear that edged it, "He's got to be our first suspect."
"Agreed, but," Cho thought for a second, "Jane has managed to anger enough people from his old job. Could one of them be after him?"
"I've got Van Pelt working on his Red John case," Lisbon interrupted, "His history as a psychic is pretty varied. He never mentioned anything about problems from that past."
"Yeah, but who would want to take him like this?" Rigsby asked again, "He didn't go willingly. This person would have to know his life now compared to then."
"Would they know that we're involved now?" Cho asked.
"They would have to, Jane's still well known enough to make the news when he works with us," Lisbon said, "Guys, let's go back to the office and work on this now."
They agreed and drove back to the main office of the CBI. After dealing with the varied questions of the media, Grace Van Pelt was already hard at work on the history of Jane, his picture on their main board with his life story already written out. She plugged in what he had told her about his life in with the timeline she built.
Because the information was so vast, she put the rest of the information in one of the briefing rooms. Slowly each wall was marked by his past and his present. Internet searches gave her his early life, one that had a number of interestingIt told an impressive story. The main crux was his life before Red John and that had some holes. He had very little issues with his fans, but like with every celebrity, he had a share of stalkers. From the list she had, Van Pelt ran the names through every possible agency, hoping and praying for a hit.
The sight of Jane's door hanging open sent her into a panic. She had experience in crime scenes, very bad ones in fact, and she usually wound up taking care of the survivors in the aftermath. She felt like a survivor already.
Taking a deep breath she stared at the scene again and started to work through it. Basic criminology was to study what happened and how. She had to work through the original scene so that when the rest of the team returned she could be the expert and tell them where there were differences.
The pictures told the story in graphic detail. What Jane had walked into was a textbook killing from Red John, his family displayed for maximum effect. The nature of the killings was horrific, but Van Pelt looked at it like it was a textbook. To think about it in any other way would reduce her to tears instantly. It was hard to believe that even five years later that Jane could even speak.
She was staring at the wall she had created when Rigsby walked in behind her. He put a hand on her shoulder. Van Pelt covered his with hers.
"We're back and we're going to run it in the main room," he said softly, "You okay?"
"Yes," she replied softly, "You guys run your photos yet? I want to put them against the original crime."
Rigsby looked around the room. Her care was meticulous in making a timeline that they all could read and understand. Cho's pictures would only make it better.
"Great work," he cheered her on, "This will help us."
"That's the idea," Grace said, "I keep telling myself that I have to think like Jane."
"Yeah, I think we all have to," Rigsby continued, "Let's go see Lisbon and run this."
As she walked into the main room, Lisbon was waiting for her.
"We're waiting for the photos and prints to run," she began, "But let's start at the top. Our Crime Scene has it own past. Van Pelt, what can you tell us about the bloodstains. Are they all from the previous crime? Or is anything different?"
"As far as I can tell, the bloodstains on the wall are from the first crime," Van Pelt answered, "I have studied every picture. Nothing from the scene was fresh on the wall. The results from the sample Rigsby brought me is fresh and from what you told me is from the floor. Early results didn't match Jane or his family."
"So, it's a break," Cho said, from his computer.
"Possibly," Grace continued, "Keep in mind that we have the first scene to work back through. It doesn't help us."
"No, it certainly doesn't," Lisbon added, "You've put together a timeline from that case?"
"It's huge," Van Pelt responded, "I put it in briefing one to spread it out. I was just going to start on his past clients who had issues when you guys came in."
"Show me," Lisbon said.
The team followed her into the first briefing room. Lisbon was stunned. Van Pelt had very logically created a timeline that would help them. While Jane was good at the first glance of a situation, Van Pelt had created a background to every moment of the line. It was precise work and done in a short amount of time.
"Impressive," Cho said, falling in behind Lisbon, "Where does today fit in?"
Van Pelt pointed to the furthest part of the room. She had a few photos up of the scene they had just left and had marked the points on the carpet that weren't from the earlier attack. It made a completely different pattern from the other, but was easy to track. They had rushed the scene.
"Any word on the blood stain?" Lisbon asked, hoping for another angle.
"Not yet," Grigsby added, "They are nearly there. It's running through the FBI database and the state database."
Lisbon looked around the room, all they could now was wait.
Light was the first thing that he realized was trickling into the room. He then felt the material that was beneath his body. It had the same cold texture as cement. Using tricks he remembered from a long time ago, he opened his eyes for a brief moment, spread his palms on the cement and turned.
He hadn't heard any voices for a few minutes or what could have been hours, so he had the feeling that he very well could be alone.
The sudden intensity of sound made him remember he wasn't where he should be and the nausea, fogginess and general disorientation made him remember that he had been drugged. He knew that it had been some time since he was drugged, but there was always the possibility that it could happen again.
Slowly sitting up, his stomach reminded him that was probably not the greatest idea but his brain overrode it. He looked down at the floor and surveyed the room. He wasn't surprised by the video camera hooked up just far enough above his head for him not to reach it.
He was in cell, that was obvious, it had a bed, a small table with food on it and a light. Slowly moving toward the table to sit back down, he looked at the food and there was a typewritten note on top of it. While his eyes struggled to focus on the typeface, he was brought back to the horror of the past by the note's signature.
'Thought your arrogance could help the most arrogant, let's see them find you' was what the note said, when he could make out the words. The signature was one he knew too well. It was the red ink happy face of Red John.
