Thank you so much to the people who have read and enjoyed the first chapter.
This chapter has been written on the same day that the first one. The reason I waited so long to publish it was that I wanted to write more, I wanted to feel surer of this story first. This hasn't exactly happened, but I want to continue writing this and I count on your support and your patience if it takes me longer than usual to update…
2.
Detective Willow and Patrick Jane joined the CBI team as they took a look at the crime scene. Lisbon was shocked at the sight; she had read reports, heard comments and even seen pictures, but being in person in a Red John crime scene was a kick to the stomach. As they observed, the psychic, who really turned out to be an idiot, was explaining everything about the serial killer to them; his crimes, the way he did it, what he felt, what he wanted. Lisbon didn't want to be rude in front of the detective, but she was about to lose her temper and tell the clown in a three-piece suit to shut up.
After they left the room, forensics took over and the body was taken to the morgue to be examined by the coroner. The name of the victim was Allison McLane, she was twenty-nine years old and was married. Her husband had found her dead, and had barely been able to call 911. He was now in the hospital, because he had fainted after the police had arrived. He would have to be questioned, so the hospital was the next stop. Lisbon didn't expect anything new to come out of the interview or even the examination of the body and the crime scene; Red John never left any traces, never made any mistakes, at least according to the previous police reports.
"Thanks a lot, Detective Willow," Lisbon said, before getting into the car, where Rigsby and Cho already were.
"Thank you, Agent. Are you going to talk to the husband now?"
"Yes, we are."
"Why don't you take Patrick, here? He's of great help in an interview."
"The psychic?" Lisbon realized she had used a mocking tone. "Thank you, but we won't be needing him."
Jane smirked, a few steps behind Willow. So this Agent Lisbon didn't believe in psychics? Well, he was going to have to make her believe. He had been reading her the whole time.
"Are you sure?" Willow was asking. "This guy knows more about Red John than the entire force."
"I bet I also know more about you than yourself, as well," he said, walking towards her now.
"Oh really?" She folded her arms.
"Really," he smiled. "I know that you've wanted to be a cop since you were very young, probably because of something that happened in your past… Something traumatic."
Lisbon was taken aback. Jane took a few more steps in her direction.
"Maybe you've been abused as a child. Not sexually… By an authority figure. Your father, maybe?"
"Shut up, I have no time for guessing games," she started to turn around, but he went on.
"That cross you wear around your neck. It belonged to someone close to you. Someone you've lost."
"That's enough!" she turned around to fully face him now. "Another word and I'll arrest you for harassment."
Jane raised both hands in front of him.
"I was just trying to show you that my insights are accurate. They can be helpful. And besides, it will give Pete here some peace of mind if someone he knows is still on the case." He had said the last part in a really low voice, so the detective wouldn't hear him.
"No way, I don't ever want to see you again in my life."
"All right, I'm sorry."
She stared at him for a moment.
"You don't mean that."
"Excuse me?" he asked. Had she really caught him in the lie or was she bluffing?
"Have a nice day, Mr. Jane," she said, turning to leave.
Jane held her by her arm.
"Teresa… be reasonable. Do you want to catch this killer or not?"
She looked at him, with fire in her eyes. She moved her arm forcefully to free it from his grip.
"Lisbon," she said, between clenched teeth. "You call me Agent Lisbon. Now get out of my face."
She angrily moved away from him and got into the car. Jane watched, smiling, as the SUV left. Teresa Lisbon was undoubtedly a challenge, and one thing he loved was a challenge. He was going to win, when did he ever lose? Oh, and of course, working with the CBI would give him the visibility to attract more and more clients.
Lisbon still shook a little with anger as Cho drove on the way to the hospital where Mr. McLane was. How could someone be so obnoxious? And how dared he talk about who she had lost or what she had suffered as a child? How did a person like that sleep at night?
"You all right, boss?" Rigsby asked.
"I'm fine," she answered dryly.
They identified themselves at the hospital and asked where Mr. Bradley McLane's room was. A nurse took them there and told them he was fine, but had been crying for hours. They entered the room slowly. The man wasn't crying now, but his face was swollen like he had been crying for a long period of time, not long before that.
"Mr. McLane?" Lisbon said.
The man, who seemed to be in his early thirties, turned to look at her.
"I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon, and these are Agents Rigsby and Cho. We're with the CBI."
McLane didn't answer; he just looked back at her, with hopelessness in his expression.
"And I am Patrick Jane," came a voice from the door.
Lisbon turned around to look, incredulous. Jane smiled at her.
"We need to ask you a few questions," Cho was saying, ignoring the intruder.
"What are you doing here?" Lisbon snarled at Jane.
"I'm here to help," he answered, in a low voice and with a serious expression.
"We don't need your help," she replied, turning to look at McLane again.
"… all I know is that when I came home…" McLane was saying, and then he stopped talking and started crying.
"Mr. McLane," Jane said, walking further into the room and past Lisbon. "We believe that the man who murdered your wife might have been watching her for some time, targeting her. Did you notice anybody or anything out of the ordinary?"
"No, I didn't, and neither did she," the man answered through his tears. "She would have told me if she had noticed anything."
Lisbon saw Jane smirk. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" McLane asked.
"Well, she obviously didn't tell you everything. She was having an affair."
"What?" McLane asked, looking horrified.
"That's enough," Lisbon said, getting a hold of Jane's arm and pulling him outside the room.
As soon as they were out in the hallway, she took him by the collar of his shirt and threw him against the wall.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? The man is mourning his dead wife!"
"Whoa," he said, smiling, "Teresa, I do like it rough, but the thing is… I'm married." He lifted his left hand to show the ring.
"This is the last time," she said, "that I'll warn you to call me Lisbon. I'm not Detective Willow and this is not your amusement park. This is the California Bureau of Investigation. You show some respect."
He smiled crookedly. "In fact, this is a hospital."
Lisbon let go of him. He straightened his clothes, thinking that he should give up on calling her by her first name; in her case, that approximation technique didn't seem to work very well.
"All right then, Lisbon. Why do you hate the idea of me helping you so much? You're afraid you'll no longer be the smartest person in the room?"
"The reason I hate the idea is because I hate you. You're arrogant, disrespectful, pushy, inappropriate, and a complete pain in the ass!"
"My first impression of you was very good, too."
"How did Detective Willow even put up with you at all? Did he let you talk to people like that? You can't talk to people like that. And how the hell did you know that anyway?"
"Well…" his voice trailed off, and he shrugged. "It's what I do. I know things."
"Still, you could have used your psychic powers to gather something useful to the case."
"There was nothing useful to gather here."
Lisbon hesitated in firing back; she didn't want to admit he was right. The husband didn't know anything. Jane seemed to realize what was on her mind, because he smiled smugly.
"You're a piece of work," she said.
"I get results. Let me stick around for the day. You won't regret it."
"I already do." She paused for a while. "Look, you want to tag along, fine. But make sure you stay out of my way."
With that she left, and he watched her walk away, smiling at his first small victory. A few minutes later, the other two agents got out of the room, eyeing him with a mixture of curiosity, amusement and annoyance. He nodded at them, smiling widely.
"Agent Rigsby. Agent Cho."
Then, he followed his new colleagues out of the hospital. Lisbon was standing next to the SUV when the three arrived at the parking lot.
"McLane didn't know anything," Cho said.
"Apparently, he really didn't know anything," Rigsby commented, grinning.
Lisbon just glared at him, making him stop immediately. Jane was smiling at the whole thing.
"Waste of time as expected," she said. "Let's go."
When she and the two other agents were already in the car, Lisbon lowered the driver's side window.
"Are you coming?" she asked Jane.
He seemed unsure, squinting at the sunlight.
"Well, actually I'm going home, to have lunch with my daughter. Would you drop me off at the precinct? I left my car there."
Lisbon scoffed.
"Take a cab."
And she pulled away, leaving him standing there by the curb.