LORELEI, the day she visits Red John

What a whirlwind of a year it's been. Vegas. CBI Holding. County Jail. Chowchilla. Getting sprung by Patrick. Taking a road trip with him. Finding out about Miranda. Killing Julia and shooting Lennon.

The best part about it was getting to know Patrick better. Not only is he one-hundred percent all-white meat sex cutlet, he is the sweetest, funniest, smartest, most empathic guy I've ever kicked the crap out of. If I wasn't a torturer and a murderer and he wasn't my main competition in the quest to kill Red John, I would fall madly in love with him.

About my Red John quest. Here's how it all went down. I sneaked into Red John's bedroom with my gun drawn. I took aim at the bed and…one of Red John's winged monkeys clocked me. I hit the floor hard, my gun went flying. I heard Red John's voice from the door behind me. "Idiot, I told you not to hurt her." The idiot looked at him fearfully. "Take the cyanide," Red John pointed at him and, like he was talking to a dog, said, "Go on, take it." The idiot bit down on the pill, fell to the floor dead, and some other idiot dragged him away.

Red John helped me up from the floor and wrapped me in his arms. I noticed he'd maintained his golden curls in my absence. "Hi, Martie, he sighed in my ear. "Long time, no see." He used my nickname. He nuzzled my neck. He dabbed ice on my bruise. I thought, is he hoping we can still make a go of it? Like maybe do couples counseling?

He led me by the hand to the L-shaped sofa in the living room. He had tea set up on his best Bernaudaud china. We sat. "One lump or two?" he queried. "Please, stop dicking around," I said. "Why'd you kill Miranda? He looked sheepish. "The truth is, I believed there was no way I could ever win you unless I did something to…lower your defenses." I slammed down my teacup. "Lower my defenses? Ever hear of roofies?! That's the traditional approach."

I was crying. "You took away the light of my life." Red John held my hand. His voice was soothing. "And I'm really, really sorry about that, Lorelei. Truly I am. If I met you today, I'd have the confidence to walk right up and ask you for a date. But I was painfully insecure back then." I yanked back my hand and said, "Oh well, all's forgiven then. Congratulations on your personal growth!"

I started pacing. I whirled around and walked back to him on the sofa. "And another thing, why didn't you break me out of jail? We both know you could have had me out of there the same night they arrested me. Why did you leave it for Patrick? What's funny is, if you'd gotten me out, I never would have found out about Miranda and I'd be back here living in a fool's paradise with you, my loving boyfriend."

Red John went on the offensive. "Oh yeah? Why'd you tell Patrick the thing about the handshakes?" "It was a mistake, OK?" I got in Red John's face. "I'd just found out that my boyfriend murdered my sister. Cut me some slack, maybe?" He poured himself more tea. I could see he was a little cowed. I wanted to kill him.

I was on a roll. "Besides, what's the big deal if he knows he met you? You're the genius. The mastermind who keeps outwitting Patrick Jane. Of course, it's not as impressive when you consider the fact that you've known all along who HE is. So I'm thinking that the confident and secure person you've become would like the idea that Patrick is narrowing down the list. Leveling the field. We'll finally get to see who's the better man!"

Red John jumped up. "Better man? What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying I suck in bed?"

At that point, I knew I was going to die.

There's a time in every woman's life when she has to say "What the fuck." I started ranking on him saying that it was obvious he would never have Patrick's skills. That Agent Lisbon had told me about 'the thing' that Patrick does to her and that I was positive Red John could never pull it off. "What is 'the thing?" he demanded, his interest instantly piqued. "That's for me to know and for you to find out." Infantile, I know, but I wanted to rub it in.

"Anyway," I continued, "even if you figured out what 'the thing' is, you couldn't do it without 'the stuff.'" I really don't know which orifice I pulled that out of. But it was a genius move. Perfectly designed to nut him up even more. The expression on his face was priceless. "The stuff?" He was practically drooling. "Is it a pill? Is it a spray? Is it some kind of equipment? Do you swallow it? Do you wear it? Do you smoke it? What's it called? Where can I buy it? Is it expensive?" I just smiled.

Minions appeared and started to set up a video camera. Red John gave me a script to read to Patrick. I looked it over. Talk about infantile. "Bet you think you're pretty clever...I'll show you clever." The whole thing read like dialogue for Cartman on South Park. Red John said if I read the script, he would make sure I didn't suffer much.

So I read it, all the while wishing I had told Patrick who Red John is. I wished I could signal him in some way. That I could blink my eyes in code. Give him some kind of clue.

That would have made me happy.