Chapter Four
"Rigsby! My office, please."
Startled, Rigsby turned towards Lisbon's office door. She was standing in it expectantly, tapping her foot on the floor. "Now?"
He quickly stood up. "Sure, boss." He cast a furtive glance at Grace as he walked over. Surely Lisbon hadn't found out about them? They were so careful. Rigsby shouldered his way into the glass cube, Lisbon closing the door behind him. He sat down as she settled behind her desk, looking at him quizzically.
"You wanna tell me why I'm getting phone calls from the chief of police in the LAPD asking if he can borrow you as an interrogator?" She dove right in.
Rigsby blinked in surprise. At a momentary loss, he answered honestly. "I have no idea, boss. Wouldn't they rather take Cho?"
Lisbon tapped her pen on her desk. "Nope. They were quite specific. Apparently they have a suspect in custody who waived his right to an attorney, but in return will only talk to you. A murder suspect named Delacroix?" Her sentence raised at the end, wanting to know if that name meant something to Rigsby. Christ, did it ever.
Rigsby clicked his teeth. "I respectfully decline."
"Not your call, agent. Who is this guy? Why has he asked for you?" Lisbon tried to keep her questioning calm and professional.
Rigsby felt his chest tighten and his palms went clammy. This is exactly what he'd hoped to avoid for the last twenty-odd years. "Please, boss. I'd really, really rather not say. Send Cho. He'll get whatever they need out of him. But I refuse to speak to that man. Personal reasons."
Lisbon watched him carefully as he squirmed in his seat, avoiding her eyes. She sighed in exasperation. "Should his first name clue me into what's going on here? Wayne?" She threw his given name like a dart. Rigsby lowered his head and said nothing. Lisbon leaned across her desk and continued in a lowered voice. "You're my agent. I know your file inside and out. Your dad's a wanted fugitive. Now we have a suspect of the same name and right age asking for you. The least you can do is own up to me, Rigsby. Does the LAPD have your father in custody?"
Rigsby's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Yes," he muttered to the floor.
Silence hung between them. When Lisbon finally spoke, her tone was sympathetic, but her words were all business. "Then we have an opportunity. I want you to drive down to L.A. and interrogate Delacroix. Take Cho or Jane with you as backup, if you want it, but are who he asked for, so you're up. This man is suspected of a lot more than just one murder. He might admit to others." She paused. "This isn't a request."
Rigsby finally pulled his eyes to hers. Lisbon was startled that the gaze of her happy-go-lucky agent was clouded with so much anger and fear. But his voice was nothing but calm acceptance. "I'll go first thing tomorrow morning boss. With just one request."
Lisbon cocked her head. "I'm listening."
"Instead of Cho or Jane I'd like Agent Van Pelt to accompany me."
Lisbon huffed in surprise. "What? Why Van Pelt? She's green in the interrogation room. She won't be able to help you much with this man."
Rigsby's steady gaze didn't falter. "Speaking candidly, this case is difficult for me. Emotionally. I don't need Cho's stoicism or Jane's invasive crap during a six-hour drive. Van Pelt is more respectful of people's personal issues. And questioning Cross would be a good experience for her. Lessen her greenness. Don't you agree?"
He could see the wheels turning in Lisbon's head as she considered his reasoning. His demeanor softened noticeably. "Please, boss. Cross won't talk to Cho or Jane anyway. He's made that clear. And once the nature of this case gets out, I'd rather have moral support from a friend instead of cold rationality or amused prodding from the other two."
Lisbon's green eye sparkled slightly at the word 'friend'. Rigsby didn't react. It wasn't a lie, after all. Grace might be his lover, but she had always been his friend. And while her moral support might be a helluva lot more personal than he was letting on, it was moral support nonetheless. Grace was a good agent. She was a logical choice.
Finally, Lisbon nodded. "All right. You can have Van Pelt. You guys leave early tomorrow morning." She waved her hand at him. "Shoo. And send Van Pelt in here. I'll update her on her new assignment."
Rigsby nodded and headed out. As he signaled to Grace to take his place, he let out a slow breath. As relieved as he was that she was coming, tomorrow was going to be hell.
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Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep!
Rigsby groaned and swatted blindly at the alarm as it rudely informed him and Grace and it was 4:30am. Grace grumbled, burrowing deeper into his arms and pulling the sheets over her head. His hand connected with the snooze button and he brought it back to cup her head gently as she nuzzled into his chest. Her hair was a disheveled, sexy mess. Just the way he liked it. He smiled sleepily. No matter what she said, his childhood had been worth every second if he got to wake up every morning with her soft, warm body curled sweetly into his.
"Time to get up, baby," he murmured softly.
"Can't talk. Sleeping."
He chuckled and threw the covers back. Grace made a noise of annoyance at the sudden loss of heat. "Meanie," she muttered, huddling closer to him for warmth.
"I'll make you some nice, yummy coffee if you get up," he coaxed.
She huffed and didn't move. "No deal. Sleep."
He sat up and pulled her with him. She whined softly and made no move to support her own weight, so he dropped his shoulder under her stomach and hoisted her up like a sack of potatoes. He smirked when she giggled. He walked into his bathroom and turned on the shower before gently setting her down on her feet. She'd slept naked, so he prodded her directly under the hot stream.
"Shower, then coffee. That should get you moving," he teased softly as he pulled the curtain closed and turned towards the hallway.
"You're not joining me?" Her voice had lost its sleepy edge and held an inviting pitch that almost made him double back and rip that curtain down. But he resisted.
"Coffee or sex? Your call, hot stuff." He smiled as he waited at the door. He heard her huff with frustration.
"Coffee. God, you're evil."
He chuckled and walked out to the kitchen. He loaded up his coffeemaker and hit the button. While it brewed, he pulled out a box of Frosted Flakes for himself and bran flakes for Grace. The minute they'd started dating, Rigsby had dashed out and bought as many wholesome cereals, fruits and non-fat munchies as he could carry. He never wanted her to go hungry in his house, so now his kitchen was a bizarrely altered landscape of rice cakes and yoghurt pyramids where Doritos and frozen meals once reigned supreme. He pulled the milk and a basket of raspberries from the fridge and set them by her bran flakes. The coffee began to percolate at the exact moment Grace wandered into the kitchen, wearing his robe and steaming from the hot water.
"Perfect timing. Food here. Coffee there. Eat. I'll be out in five minutes," Rigsby pointed to each thing in turn before heading back towards the bathroom.
"You're not going to eat with me?" She pouted up at him through her red, wet locks dangling over her eyes.
He swooped in front of her, hooking his thumbs into the terrycloth and dragging her against his naked body. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "If I have to watch you bathe, or watch you eat your cereal in my robe, I'll lock us in this apartment for the rest of the day." He gave her a quick, hard kiss. "Today is going to suck. I don't need my sexy girlfriend prancing around and giving me ideas about staying."
He let her go and stepped back, pointing to the table. "Eat," he repeated and headed for the back. She grinned and did as she was told. She poured herself some joe, then added milk and berries to her plain cereal. The silly grin wouldn't leave her face as she started to eat. Despite her whining, she was thrilled that she was going with Rigsby to interrogate Cross. Lisbon had relayed Rigsby's request to take her with him and she'd been shocked at his boldness. The fact that he said he wanted a friend with him, as well as a partner who could benefit from the experience, it was a risky thing to ask for, what with them sleeping together and all. She took a deep swig of coffee. She felt it warm her stomach and start herding her sluggish blood into a steady trot. Excellent.
She finished her breakfast and rinsed the bowl in the sink before going into the bedroom to dress. She found Rigsby already suiting up, his wet hair sparkling like frost. She smiled and grabbed his towel from the floor. She jumped on his bed and threw the towel over his head, pulling her to him and rubbing the towel briskly over his scalp. He chuckled from under the towel and obediently held still while she dried him off more to her liking.
"Like a dog in from the rain," he laughed as she pulled the cloth back from his eyes. She found them as blue and as happy as she ever wanted to. She laughed with him.
"More like a hedgehog. If hedgehogs were soft." She ran her fingers through his more thoroughly dried hair. Just as she described, spiky to the eyes, soft to the touch. She released him and let him get back to dressing. As he finished and went to eat, she jumped into her good jeans and button down shirt before doing her hair and makeup. They met at the door all ready to go at 5:10 exactly. Not too shabby.
They loaded their SUV up with their overnight bags and supplies. As they settled into their seats, Rigsby flipped the headlights on and looked out into the still-dark parking lot. He turned to her and spoke softly. "Thank you for coming with me."
She smiled and shook her head. "It's nothing, Wayne. I'm glad you asked for me."
"I know. But…thank you. I don't know if I could have done this alone."
Grace leaned over and kissed him softly. "You're never alone. We'll get through this. You and me. This man, he can't ever hurt you again. Remember that, okay?"
He inhaled and nodded. "Okay." He put the car into gear. "Let's get this over with."
