A/N: Thanks for reading! Warning for a couple of brief descriptions of a gruesome crime scene
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Lisbon called Jane everyday, but he never answered. She left a myriad of messages, imploring him to check in with her but he never called back.
The first week she made excuses for him. He must be busy with his transition. He didn't have a lot to move, but she had no idea where he was going. Maybe his phone died, or he was somewhere without service. Maybe he was just busy. Maybe he really did regret what happened between them.
She was busy herself figuring out the new dynamic with the team. When they solved their first case without him she stayed late at the office and set a cup of tea next to her coffee while she worked. She watched the steam intermingle between the cups. She moved her coffee closer to her keyboard and sighed. She checked her phone. No messages.
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Two weeks out she started to worry in earnest. Maybe something bad had happened to him. Maybe Red John had changed the rules again. Who would know? She called a few hospitals and also checked police reports for unidentified victims. There was no sign of him. She checked with his long term stay hotel to see if they had a forwarding address for him. They didn't.
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Three weeks out she was angry. She still called frequently. Most of her messages were filled with venom. She thought back to her request. He said he would like it if she called, he never said he would answer. Why did he start this thing between them if he wasn't planning to stay, or communicate at all. Then she imagined him listening to each message. Maybe he couldn't talk to her, but she liked to think her messages were getting to him, that they gave him strength. She believed he loved her, but she didn't believe he was letting Red John go. Not really. She grasped her cross and prayed for him. "Keep Jane safe. Bring him back to me."
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One month. Lisbon's phone rang at 4am, calling her out to a crime scene. She was in bed, but she wasn't asleep when they called. These days she rarely slept more than a couple of fitful hours at a time. She missed Jane. She felt nauseous, but she wasn't eating well either, so she pushed through it. She drank some water and choked down a toasted freezer waffle and arrived at the local crime scene in good time.
She followed the flashing lights and parked nearby. Rigsby drove up shortly after her and they walked together up the long drive congested with emergency vehicles. Someone had been murdered in one of the luxurious mansions that dotted Sacramento. The influential owner of the house wanted to keep things discrete. She almost wanted to roll her eyes. Another day, another dollar.
A team from Sac PD was controlling the scene. Lisbon showed her badge at the door and was directed to the man in charge, Officer Sanders. They walked through an expansive entry hall and found him at the bottom of a large double staircase, speaking to someone else in a uniform. The bottom portion of the double wide stairs ran back about ten feet before they split at a landing. The upper stairs created an alcove along the back wall. At this time of day the alcove was cast in shadow. The space around the staircase was open. The walls were covered in a square paneled wood. There were some tall ficus trees set back slightly from the base of the stairs on each side. It was a very impressive room, the ceiling was lost high above them, also in shadow. Lisbon flashed her badge again. "I'm Special Agent Teresa Lisbon, this is Agent Rigsby. What have we got?"
Sanders looked grim. "This is a messy one I'm afraid. Still working on an ID. There is a small servants access room here behind the staircase. They keep cleaning supplies there. It's like a closet - there's hardly enough room to turn around in there, but the body is… it's one of those things you wish you could unsee, you know?"
Lisbon and Rigsby exchanged a look.
"Yeah, well, we'll be okay," Rigsby said encouragingly. He indicated towards the far side of the staircase. "Round here, you said?"
"Yeah, I think the coroner is in there now. You might have to wait a bit."
"Is this the only way to access the closet? Seems like a high traffic area for this kind of murder scene."
"There are a couple of servant access hallways off this room, back in the alcoves. The one in that section leads to the kitchen. There's another entrance to the house beyond the kitchen for staff to use."
"Thanks," said Lisbon. They walked past the officers, continuing to the far side of the stairs.
As soon as they passed the ornate railing and turned the corner, the smell hit them. Lisbon paused, her stomach twisting uncomfortably. Rigsby waited beside her. Yellow tape started about halfway back to the alcove. Another officer was waiting by it, and a couple more people stood past it.
Rigsby touched her elbow. "Hey, boss. You okay?"
Lisbon closed her eyes and breathed carefully, willing her stomach to stop churning. She forced herself into boss mode and opened her eyes. "Yeah, let's see what we're up against."
They approached the crime scene tape. The guard there smiled at Lisbon with a touch of pity. "It's not an easy one, you might want to skip it if you're not feeling well."
Lisbon glowered at him. "It's fine."
The guard shrugged indifferently and angled his body so he was facing away from the corner where the action was. It was a little crowded on the other side, with two people already occupying the space. The coroner and assistant were decked out in some coveralls, including a hood and a mask, and booties.
The door leading under the stairs was shorter than a standard door and opened into the room so the view of the victim was currently obscured. Lisbon waved across the tape to catch the coroner's attention.
"Excuse me?" Lisbon called
The coroner looked her way, then pulled down her mask and smiled. "Hey, Lisbon. How you doing?"
"Oh, hey, Pat. I'm alright. What's with the get-up? Is there a haz-mat issue here?"
"No. I'm just doing my best to keep human remains out of my hair."
At Lisbon's puzzled look, Pat reached over to the door and swung it fully open, revealing what was inside. The smell got noticeably stronger. It took a few moments for Lisbon to process what she was seeing. Red was splashed everywhere. Something dripped and she realized there was a tangle of blood saturated hair spilling out over a shelf. Then the lump on the shelf above it resolved into a foot. Rigsby made a noise beside her like something was stuck in his throat.
Lisbon clutched her stomach and moved as fast as she could away from the crime scene. She made it to the far side of the staircase and threw up into the pot of the ficus tree.
Rigsby came up behind her just as Cho arrived.
"Boss, you okay?" asked Rigsby.
Lisbon spit out some bile and straightened, the leaves brushing her hair. She batted them away and swore.
"What's up?" interjected Cho.
"It's a fake tree," observed Lisbon.
"And you just threw up in it?"
"Yeah." She ignored the looks she was getting from the Sac PD officers.
"But you don't get sick," insisted Rigsby.
Lisbon tried to glower, but it lacked muster. "I get sick. I just don't let it get it my way."
Cho nodded towards the vomit covered tree. "How long have you been feeling ill?"
"I don't know. A couple days?"
Cho waited.
"Fine, since Tuesday. But this is the first I've thrown up. Stop interrogating me."
Cho turned his attention to Rigsby. "Is this a bad one?"
He nodded. "Yeah. They don't know if they have all the pieces yet."
Lisbon put her hand on her stomach and moaned softly.
Cho pursed his lips. "I'm calling it, you're taking the day off." Her eyes flashed, but he cut her off before she could protest. "You haven't been sleeping, and now you're sick. Just take the day. We'll cover for you. You good to drive?"
Lisbon held his gaze for a few moments before giving up. "Yeah, I'll be alright. Thanks, guys." She stood up straight and started to walk away.
"Hey, boss," Cho called. She turned back. "It's 5am, there is no reason to go to the office. Straight home."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir. Can I stop at the drug store?"
He ignored the sarcasm in her tone. He nodded and turned to Rigsby to get caught up. Lisbon wrinkled her nose at his back and strode away.
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The next day Lisbon arrived at work looking even more haggard and pale than the day before. She went straight to her office without talking to her team. She turned on the computer and then rested her face in her hands as it booted up.
A few minutes later a thump on her desk roused her from her position. She glanced up. "Thanks, Cho," she mumbled and pulled the bottle of water closer to her. She took a small sip and closed her eyes, all too aware that Cho was watching her. She heard him sit down and sighed. She looked at him. "What can I do for you?"
He shook his head slightly. "You planning to see a doctor?"
"Not at this time."
Cho leaned back and studied her. "This is starting to affect your work."
"So I'll get it together. It's just been a rough month -"
"Since Jane left."
She swallowed and looked away. "Yeah," she said quietly.
"Look, you're still a great boss. You're allowed to be human sometimes. We're worried about you. You could take another day if you need it."
She smiled thinly. "Thanks. I need to work. At least for this morning. Anything I need to know about the case?"
"The pieces are starting to come together."
Lisbon grimaced at the phrase. "Literally or.."
Cho stayed as stoic as ever. "Yeah, we got an ID." At her questioning look he added, "Bethany Tramm. She was on the housekeeping staff. You want a full briefing?"
"Give me an hour. Unless there is something more pressing?"
"Nah, Van Pelt is crunching some numbers and we have some calls to make. We'll know more in an hour." He got up to leave.
"Thanks, Cho," Lisbon called after him.
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An hour later Lisbon joined the team in the bullpen. They gathered around a bulletin board that showed a time line of events and key witnesses. A large photo in the middle was labeled Bethany Tramm. She looked to be about 27 years old with dark hair, and a nice smile.
Lisbon smiled at her team tiredly. "Thanks for covering for me yesterday."
"No problem, boss," Van Pelt said sweetly.
"You feeling any better today?" asked Rigsby.
Lisbon took a small sip of water from the bottle she carried. "Not really. But we gotta keep catching the bad guys. So tell me about this case."
"Right." Cho started. "Homeowner Vincent Drake recently held a party. It lasted a few days. People finally started to fade out and go home. Sounds like the last guest to leave had stayed to entertain Drake 'privately'. She woke up about 2am and decided she didn't want to stay until morning. Coming down the stairs, she heard a noise. She thought maybe the staff was still cleaning up, but didn't see anyone. They keep the entry lit at night. She poked around and the closet door was slightly ajar. Finding the gruesome scene, she screamed her head off until Drake came down and subsequently called 911."
"What kind of party are we talking, here?"
"The kind that no one wants to talk about," answered Rigsby. "Lots of bedrooms upstairs. Sex, alcohol, probably drugs. Drake didn't want to reveal his guest list either. Still working on tracking everyone down."
"How many people were there?"
"In and out over several days… upwards of fifty."
"What about the staff?"
"We talked to most of them. Housekeeping, including our vic, was employed throughout the event. There was also a team of chefs to keep a snack table well stocked. Bartender upstairs. Everyone was instructed to be discrete, stay out of the way."
"You think the vic saw something she shouldn't?"
"Hard to say," said Cho. "I'm not getting any details."
"What about the closet? Was the party in that part of the house? Would guests know about it?"
"Guests primarily stayed upstairs. But the party was ongoing for nearly a week, so if they were coming and going the staircase was the main way to go. The alcove closet is out of the way though, hidden."
"Hmm," Lisbon thought for a moment, then turned to Grace. "What have you found?"
"So far I've mainly been looking into the victim's financials. Nothing suspicious or outstanding. Looks like she was an honest, hard worker."
Lisbon looked at the board, at the smiling picture. "Was she happy?"
Rigsby cleared his throat uncertainly. They didn't usually speculate about happiness. "Seems so. She was married, one kid at home. Everyone liked her."
Lisbon closed her eyes and willed some nausea to pass. "I probably shouldn't do any interviews today. Do you have any witness reports I can look through?"
Cho handed her a file. Lisbon started to leaf through it idly while directing her team. "Alright, Cho and Rigsby, work on the guest list. See if you can put together a time line. Van Pelt, look into the staff. They would be most likely to know about the hidden closet. Let's -" She flipped a page and paused. The coroner's report, with a picture. A disjointed body was laid out on a mortuary slab. The blood was washed away, showing every ragged cut. The face was stretched unnaturally over the skull like a surrealist painting. She felt bile rising in her throat, shoved the file to Van Pelt next to her, and took off for the closest bathroom.
"Sorry, boss," Rigsby called after her. "I forgot that was in there."
Van Pelt shot him a dirty look. "I'll go check on her." She hit Rigsby with the file, making him take it as she left the room.
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Van Pelt heard retching noises as soon as she opened the door to the bathroom. It looked like she and Lisbon were the only occupants.
"Boss? Lisbon?" Van Pelt called out as she neared the stalls.
Lisbon was in a stall with the door still open, breathing shallowly with her eyes closed as she tried to recover control of her bodily functions. She spat and flushed the toilet, turning to Van Pelt. There was a line of sweat on her forehead and she looked miserable.
"Hey, Grace." Lisbon walked to the sink and put one arm on each side of the bowl, resting her weight on it. Van Pelt grabbed a couple of paper towels and dampened them with cool water before handing them meekly to her. Lisbon took them gratefully, wiping her face and neck.
"Are you okay, boss?"
Lisbon sighed. "I fear that question is going to get very old. I'm not sick, Grace." She smiled slightly at Van Pelt's puzzled expression. "I'm pregnant."