Disclaimer: The Mentalist is still not mine. Pity really.
Patrick is tired and getting sicker. Lisbon is making plans to escape. Time is of the essence for both!
And Their World Came Tumbling Down
Chapter 7 Housekeeping
After coming back to the house from the Airstream, Sally and Teresa ate the remaining biscuits and cleaned up the kitchen. The cabin looked like it had not be properly cleaned for years, and even though Lisbon felt it was disgusting, she decided the work was not hers to do. She had no plans on sticking around long enough to make the place livable. Sally chattered like a little bird and Teresa was able to keep her satisfied with the occasional "uh huh" carefully placed in the conversation. The rest of the time she tried to think of a way out of there. After making a light lunch for Colt and Beau, the women played a game of checkers. Teresa couldn't quite figure out where Colt came from each day. He always seemed to be nearby, but didn't live in the house. Since she was creating a criminal profile in her mind of both men, she decided to take advantage of Sally's talkativeness to learn everything she could about Beau and Colt. It turned out that Colt lived in the barn, in a room where the hay loft would normally have been. No wonder he behaved like the house was his own territory. Lisbon carefully nudged Sally into telling her about Beau and Colts' habits, likes, dislikes, favourite bars and restaurants, friends. There were apparently no friends that Sally could think of. It was a cruel and solitary life on the farm. Beau disappeared regularly and Sally knew better than to ask to go along for the ride. After jabbering on about the men of the house, Lisbon had a much clearer picture of the dangerous and psychopathic nature of both men. Ask no questions, make no demands, follow instructions to the letter and show respect. Not necessarily in that order. That's how to survive as a female around these men. Sally didn't question the fact that Teresa was pummelling her with questions. She was so starved for female companionship that she gladly told Teresa everything she could about life on the farm. Sally just thought Lisbon was unusually curious, so did not hold anything back. Had she been alone, Lisbon would have left the moment the men drove away, but now she knew she could not leave Sally behind. To do so would be to sign her death certificate. So she kept playing along with Sally, while planning and thinking of a way out.
The men did not return for lunch, so the girls ate the stale sandwiches instead. As it got later in the day, Teresa decided to teach Sally how to make a great Italian pasta for supper. This helped to pass the time and to buy some good will with Beau.
When Beau saw what the women had prepared, he was happily surprised. It was not the usual heavy fried food.
"Told you she was a keeper Colt!" he crowed. Lisbon pretended to be flattered.
"My husband hated my cooking" she lied. "He told me every day how lousy my meals were!"
"Damned fool didn't deserve you woman!" Colt chipped in.
"Damned straight" said Beau. Lisbon just smiled and announced soon after supper that she was tired out and was heading to bed.
"So soon?" asked Sally, disappointed to be left alone with the men, again. "Can't we play a board game or somethin'?"
"No - Sorry Sally. Pregnancy really makes me tired out. I just need more sleep right now."
"You let her sleep ya hear!" Beau shouted at Sally.
"Okay Beau, okay."
Lisbon disappeared into the bathroom and then went right to the bedroom for the night. She had hidden her gun and badge under the mattress. She checked again to make sure they were where she had left them, within easy reach should the need arise. She was hoping to use them very soon. Lying down on the bed, her mind restlessly played various escape scenarios through and through, each one hopefully leading to her successful escape and the arrest of Beau and Colt. As night fell, she finally had to let her mind go back to Patrick. She tried not to think about him during the day, because doing so would cause her strong facade to fall and render her heartbroken and weak. Night afforded her the chance to let down her guard and feel the full measure of grief over his death. She thought about their last moments together, before Hell arrived. God how she loved him. Every cell in her body ached for Patrick. The memory of his spicy scent, his large hands holding her in a warm embrace, his dazzling intellect and his mischievous smile filled her heart and her mind. How had she been so lucky to love such a man? If she got out of this, she would tell her baby every day what a great man Patrick had been. She tried to hold Patrick's face in her mind as she drifted off to a restless sleep.
"Good night my love" she whispered.
Night was now upon Patrick and he was shivering badly. Each convulsion caused his injuries to cut through him like a hot knife. So thirsty now. He took another candy out of his pocket, but this time his hands shook uncontrollably. He barely managed to get the candy into his mouth. The flavour was so intense he found it completely captivating. Lemon this time.
"Hold on Patrick" he told himself. "Tomorrow will be warm again. Tomorrow maybe someone will come. Hold on."
He looked out into the night and tried to see Teresa's face in the night sky. He counted every freckle and imagined brushing her lush wavy hair, kissing her lips. He imagined their baby in his arms.
His baby.
Just thinking it made him smile. He wondered what Teresa would name the baby. He had to admit, he didn't care anymore what the name would be. Just to hold that precious gift would be enough. She would name the baby after he was long gone. He feared he would never know his child's name. He hoped Teresa would pass on her generous heart, her fierceness for justice, and her boundless love of the underdog. He also hoped their baby would find joy in all of the quirky things that amused him so much. The warm sun, a good magic trick, and catching fools at their own game. He actually didn't believe he would live to see his child be born. A strange calm had come over him. Having accepted that his death could be imminent if he was not found soon, he just wished that he could have said goodbye to Teresa. That would be wonderful.
Patrick cried into the night tears of sadness, rage and ultimately, resignation. He was in so much pain , and feeling so sick now. Maybe sleep would help somehow. He needed to try to sleep, to help pass the long cold hours unawares. It took a few hours, but he finally succombed to exhaustion and slumbered in the cold night air.
Patrick slept the whole night through, or at least was unconscious the whole night, until a bizarre noise roused him from his lethargy at the crack of dawn. He was slumped over, in the state between wakefulness and sleep, when a loud beeping noise invaded his solitude.
He somehow knew that sound. What was it he wondered.
What is that?
Beep…. Beep… Beep.
Another sound hit him and again, he knew it. What was it? It sounded like a hydraulic lift mechanism.
A truck backing up! he reasoned. A truck backing up and dumping something! He snapped awake and looked up just in time to see a cascade of garbage come spilling out of the back of a truck. Bottles, cans, bags of trash, newspapers, magazines, liquor bottles, boxes, all came tumbling down the face of the cliff. Most of the garbage fell and disappeared into the canyon below. Some of the bottles bounced off the rocky outcroppings and shot over towards Patrick's ledge, where they rattled around and finally came to rest. More followed. It was all over very quickly. Within two minutes the truck had come into sight, disgorged its' filthy load and then quickly left before being noticed by anyone passing by.
Patrick looked around himself in dismay. He was lying in a pile of garbage. A bag had ripped open, spilling its' load of paper and lunch box remains all over the ledge.
"Must have come from a school cafeteria" Patrick guessed.
He checked all of the bottles that had landed near him to see if one or two contained any leftover drinks. Only one plastic bottle contained some yellow fluid.
"Apple juice" was printed on the label. Patrick managed to snag the bottle with his fingertips, unscrewed the lid and inhaled. Yes! Apple juice! He greedily started to swallow the contents of the bottle, and then reluctantly stopped himself. This would have to last a bit longer. With regret, he recapped the bottle and searched the trash for more food items. 'Kids throw out so much good food' he thought to himself. So what did some mother pack that was rejected by her kid…?
After a bit of digging, Patrick found an unopened sleeve of crackers. Upon opening it and checking for dampness or decay, he realized the crackers were still perfectly edible. He tried to eat slowly, but after two days without food or water, this was a very difficult task.
Crackers eaten, he drained the rest of his juice and lay back. He observed the garbage again and was struck by an idea. Reaching the garbage bag that had come from the school, he dug around for a clean piece of paper. After a careful search, he found a sheet of paper with a childish drawing on one side. Turning the paper over, Jane smiled for the first time in a long time. Two long fingers reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small retractable pen. Patrick got to work, writing. He needed to send a message to Teresa, in case he did not live out the day. He also wanted to give the FBI as much information as he could to catch Beau and Colt, and maybe even rescue Teresa.
He closed his eyes in concentration, and then, began to write.
'To Whomever Finds Me:
My name is Patrick Jane. I have been shot and thrown over the cliff by 2 men, Beau and Colt. I believe they may live near here. They have kidnapped my pregnant wife Teresa and stolen my Airstream RV. My wife and I both work for the FBI out of the Austin office. Please call that office and tell Senior Agent Kimball Cho that you have found me. Do not call the local police or the fire department. Word of my discovery could endanger the life of my wife, if she is still alive. '
A tear ran down Patrick's face, as he held the pen tighter.
'Find Beau and Colt and you will find my wife. They are in the business of killing people for their cars. Please save my wife.'
Patrick then turned his attention to speaking one last time to Teresa.
'Dearest Teresa,
Firstly, lastly and for always, I love you. I am so sorry you have to go through this. I promised I would always save you, and I hope somehow this note will help to do that. I love you more than my life, and I love the child you carry, our child. Let our baby know someday that love brought us together, and that if love was enough, I would be with you forever.
Teresa my love, be strong. Lean on our friends for comfort and help. Catch the bastards who did this to us. I believe my time is running out. I think of you every moment. I wish I could hold you in my arms right now, inhale your sweet scent and feel your heart beating in sync with mine.'
Patrick was now openly sobbing. How do you tell the woman you love everything that is in your heart, but on a small scrap of paper?
'Teresa, my wife. I will never get tired of saying that. Promise me you will take good care of yourself, and our precious baby, because both of you are my future. Live every day with joy and remember me on sunny days, or when you walk at the edge of the ocean. I will be there with you.
I love you Teresa. I kiss your face and hold you in my arms as I write this. Please know that I will try to be brave. You are always with me so what can I fear now?
You are the best part of me. All my love forever.
Your Patrick'
Jane dropped the pen and sobbed. It wasn't good enough, didn't say enough. How could he convey the depths of his feelings for Teresa in so few words? He prayed she would understand. He carefully took the paper and folded it into a smaller square and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. Hopefully someone would find it easily there instead of missing it if he hid it in a pocket. He was completely drained of energy now. Writing had taken all of his remaining strength. Leaning back against the wall, he looked around and realized he was lying in a mound of garbage. A sudden surge of anger filled him. He did not want the indignity of being found discarded like the trash that surrounded him. His final act would be to wildly kick away the garbage bag and its' contents so they fell over the ledge and down into the canyon below. He swept his good arm back and forth to push the bottles and food wrappings over the edge too. Lying once again upon the clean rock surface, he closed his eyes, perhaps for the last time.
It's almost over. Perhaps Patrick will finally get the peace he so greatly wants. Will his note help Teresa in time?
Next chapter up as soon as I can get to it. Thanks to everyone for their kind words and saves!