Author's Note: I'm so sorry it took me this long to put up the last chapter. The only excuse I have to offer is that I have been very busy lately, and because of that I very likely will not be posting anything new any time soon. (I'm not sure yet, but it may even be an indefinite thing.)
Chapter 8
Lisbon decides that as far as telling Minelli what we're up to is concerned it would be better if she told him about this particular idea. I can't say as I think she's wrong. He's less likely to blow a blood gasket if she does the talking. Virg has always had more of a soft spot for Teresa, which I certainly can't blame him for. I've got one the size of the Grand Canyon. Anyway, as I was saying, for Minelli, Lisbon is like the daughter he never had. He's known her quite a few years longer than I have. About five years more I think. He hired Lisbon after hearing about her from an old colleague, Samuel Bosco. Apparently, he was a mentor to her, or something like. He was a former cop and the one who helped her get into the private detective business in the first place. However, Virg is the one who takes the credit for how good she is at her job. I remember him telling me once, "Sam may have gotten her started, but I'm the one that taught her practically everything she knows." That might sound overly prideful on his part, but it's not himself he's proud of, it's Teresa. As I said, she's like the daughter he never had, and as such he's about as proud of her as any natural father would be.
I'm suddenly roused from my thoughts by a light laugh from Miss Van Pelt.
I groan inwardly. Maybe it wasn't the best idea letting Rigsby come along with Cho to see our office.
It's not that I begrudge Wayne the chance of getting a lovely young woman like Grace to go out with him, but really, he's such a bad flirt it's painful to listen to. But, she doesn't appear to be bother by the unsophisticated small talk so who am I to judge.
Cho doesn't seem to mind it, but then again, you can hardly ever tell with Cho.
Lisbon opens the door from Minelli's office and I know from the look on her face that it went as well as can be expected.
"How'd it go?" Cho asks.
"He's okay with it," she answers, exaggerating a little. Her expression tells me that he wasn't "okay" with it.
But instead of pointing this out I say, "I knew he would be."
"Oh really? And just how did you know that?" she questions, her tone sounding somewhat on the mocking side. (And by somewhat I mean a lot.)
"Because you were the one telling him."
"As if I have any kind of influence over him."
"You do. He likes you more than he does me."
"Mm, can you blame him?" she teases cheekily.
"No," I say seriously. "I can't."
I look at her warmly and she flushes slightly. She's thinking about our kiss, and I most certainly am as well... I have been since it happened. I can't stop really, and I don't want to. Recalling how wonderful it felt to have her lips on mine makes me want to wrap my arms around her, pull her close and do more than just recall what she felt, smelled, and tasted like.
I hear Cho clear his throat.
Lisbon and I both jump at the realization that we've been staring at each other longer than is quite proper in our current setting. Our eyes dart quickly away from each other and Lisbon shifts in a awkward sort of manner.
Rigsby's grinning at us like we've just won him some kind of bet and Grace is smiling in that way girls do when they see such 'dreamboats', I believe the term is, as Clark Gable romancing their lady loves.
"Yes, right, well, good then. Thank you, Lisbon," I say in a flustered kind of way.
Mercy, what that woman does to me. I'm never flustered.
"Yes, sure," she answered back in much the same tone as affected my vocal chords a few moments before.
Well, at least I'm not the only one who's having trouble concentrating on the task at hand. It's comforting in a way.
Shaking myself back into the real world I clap my hands together and say exuberantly, "Alrighty then. I think it's time to bring Mashburn in for questioning again."
Rigsby looks confused. "What for?"
"He's the lead suspect in the murder of Summer Edgecomb."
"What!"
"Try and keep up, Wayne," I say in a patronizing manner.
"Jane," Lisbon scolds. "Be nice. Besides he asks a reasonable question. Murder of Summer Edgecomb? Do you mind clarifying that for us slower folks?"
"You're not slow, Lisbon. Not as fast as I am, but certainly not slow," I say kindly.
She knows I'm teasing her. I can tell from the way her eyes twinkle with the smile she manages to keep from making itself known on her face.
"I'm very flattered you consider me acceptably speedy, Jane," she replies sarcastically. "But I'd rather have an answer to my question than be paid, what you apparently considered to be, a compliment."
I can't help but smirk. I've always loved her sassy spirit.
"Fine," I comply. "We need Mashburn and Erica to let their guards down, give us an opportunity to show Peter that she's been two timing him. What better way to lull them into a false sense of security than to take away one of the witnesses that could disprove Erica's alibi?"
"I don't know... It sounds like we're taking a big risk that this will work."
"Meh, the risk is minimal. If it doesn't work we'll just go to Plan B."
"Which is?"
"How should I know? There no point in coming up with a Plan B if Plan A works."
"I have to say, Jane, this has got to be one of the stupidest ideas you've ever come up with. Funny thing is, it's so stupid it just might work."
"Thank you, Lisbon. At least someone trusts that I know what I'm doing."
"Yes, well, I didn't say anything about you knowing what you're doing, but you're welcome.
She trusts me really. She just doesn't want to admit it.
"Okay, so now come the tricky part. We have to convince Peter of Erica's infidelity."
"How do you plan on our doing that? Are we going to sneak around peaking through key holes like nosy reporters?"
"Hardly, Lisbon. You'll just have to wait and see."
She scowls at me.
"Have I told you how much I dislike surprises, Jane?"
"Oh come now, you love surprises. Remember that birthday present I got you last year? You enjoyed that surprise very much as I recall."
"That was a completely different situation..."
Lisbon's rant is interrupted by an uncomfortable sounding cough from Rigsby.
"Uh, so what about the Clarridge kid?"
"No need to worry, Wayne. I have it all under control."
"Which is why there is no Plan B," I hear a snarky Teresa murmur under her breath.
"Just for that, dear, you don't get to come along and watch me work over young Peter with me brilliant skills of persuasion."
"Good," she snaps in annoyance. "I don't give a hoot about watching your self exaggerated skills of persuasion."
Her gorgeous eyes are burning with irritation, but making her angry is worth it. She's beautiful when she gets worked up. Besides, it does her good to let off steam. I often provoke her into releasing some of her pent up anger. When her bursts of antagonism are more regularly scheduled it saves me, and others, from being the victims of uncontrollable explosions of suppressed rage. Good job she doesn't know I do it through, she'd probably shoot me for being a meddlesome... some name that's not very nice.
"Cho," she continues. "Let's you and me go get Mashburn. I'm fairly certain we're capable enough play actors to convince him Summer Edgecomb has been murdered."
"Fine by me," he answers. "Rigsby, you go along with Jane. Make sure he doesn't do anything too idiotic."
"Yes, Boss."
:) ;P 8D
It doesn't take us long to get to Peter Clarridge's residence, and when he answers the door it doesn't take mentalist to know that he's none too happy to see us.
"Haven't I been harassed by you people enough already? What do you want now?" he demands in agitation.
"We need your help, Peter," I tell him.
"My help?"
"Yes."
"How can I possibly help you? You're the ones that are supposed to be the police investigators."
I bite back the snide remark I'm sorely tempted to deliver him.
"Despite the fact that we are the seasoned professionals you're the only one who can help us," I reply tightly.
"Why?"
"Because you know the truth of what happened that night in the alley. You know it was Erica who killed her husband."
"I told you before, Mr. Jane, Erica did not kill Mr. Flynn."
"Yes I'm aware, but I think you know we're not buying it."
"Well I can't help what you think," he responds, and while his tone is firm his body language is not. I can tell he's under a lot of stress because of this whole fiasco. And he's not the sort of person who responds well to stressful situations in the first place so it's not difficult to calculate that he must be close to snapping at this point.
"Now if you'll excuse me I have prior engagement I need to prepare for ."
He tries to close the door, but Rigsby blocks it with his foot.
"Mr. Clarridge, if you don't cooperate we can take you in to the station and bring you up on charges of obstruction and collaboration in John Flynn's murder."
"Yes I know. That little lady cop already told me."
I see Rigsby's jaw clench in anger. He's no more impressed with this cockatoo then I was on our first meeting.
"I take it you're referring to Detective Lisbon?" the young agent asks coldly.
"Yes."
"Then I suggest you talk about her with the respect deserved to a seasoned homicide detective who's currently consulting with the police," he replies in a voice chilling enough to cause frostbite. "If I were you anyway," he ends on a threatening note.
Peter takes the hint and tones down his uppity attitude.
"What is it you're wanting me to do?"
"Nothing much," I answer. "Just come with us to Erica's house tonight. All you have to do is watch."
"Watch what?"
"I can't tell you that."
"You want me to spy on Erica, don't you?" he questions. He crosses his arms in a gesture of self protection. He's trying to close himself off.
"Spy is such an ugly word," I say lightly.
"No, I won't, Mr. Jane. I won't betray her like that."
"Why not?"
"Because I love her, and I trust her."
"Do you now?"
"Completely."
"And what about Walter Mashburn, Peter?"
The question makes him uncomfortable.
"If you're as close to Erica as you claim then you must know how intimate she and Mr. Mashburn are."
"No, no, she would never..." He's shaking his head as if he's trying to convince himself of Erica's loyalty to him. "She just wouldn't," he finishes lamely.
"Wouldn't what? Take another lover over you. Because, I hate to be the one to break it to you, Peter, but she has. Walter Mashburn is Erica's lover."
"Stop saying that," he yells. "She doesn't... I can't..."
He's breathing heavy, and even though I can't feel his pulse I know it's racing a mile a minute. One more push and he'll fall.
"Come on, Peter. You have to know for sure? Right? You shouldn't have to live like this. Just come with us to her house tonight and you'll finally know. You'll be certain for once."
I look squarely into his face and I know, I've convinced him.
:) ;P 8D
By the time evening rolls around the plan is in full swing. Lisbon is nervous that it won't come off without a hitch, but I reassure her once again that I know what I'm doing. Doesn't do that much good I don't suppose, but I try all the same.
Cho, Rigsby, Lisbon, Peter, and myself are all at Erica Flynn's home. While Peter and I make our way into the house, or rather mansion, the other three take up what they call strategic positions around it.
There's no real security to get past. Unless you count a locked door as security, which I don't. It was very easy to pick lock.
Once we're inside there's some sneaking around to be done and I'm very thankful the kid isn't completely inept in the art of tip-toeing.
We hide in the sitting room. Not difficult to do seeing as the nearly all the lights are off and there's several pieces of large furniture to hide behind.
"But what if she doesn't come in here?" Peter asks in a hushed voice.
"Then we'll have to move," I whisper back. "But the likelihood that she'll use this room is fairly high, so stop fidgeting and be quiet."
I'm trying to read the time on my watch in the dim light at what I guess to be about twenty minutes later when there's a loud knock on the front door. There are no servants in the house tonight for some reason and presently Erica herself answers the door.
I can hear someone talking, definitely a man. Good, he came. Now if they'll just come closer we'll be able to hear their conversation.
Their footsteps are getting nearer and Mashburn is still speaking in a low voice. Suddenly there's an outburst from Erica.
"What! Walter, how could you be such a fool?! Those cops are..."
"Would you calm down," he cuts in. "I didn't do it, and I don't know who did. But sooner or later the police are going to figure out what happened."
"And how would they do that?" she asks smoothly. "They don't have anything."
"You're the fool if you think that."
"Don't you dare use that kind of language with me!"
I peak out from my hiding place behind a very expensive looking hutch and see Mashburn round on his lover, the look of exasperation on his face only just visible in this lighting.
"Wake up, Erica. That child you think you have under control could very easily give us up."
"Please," she says with a laugh. "I have that little boy wrapped around my finger."
"He's still a liability, Erica," Mashburn argues. "We need to get rid of him."
"Yes because that won't draw suspicion onto us at all," she mocks.
"It probably will, but it won't matter because we'll leave after. We'll go to my villa in Venezuela. They can't touch us there."
The next thing I hear is a sound I'm quite familiar with. The cock of a gun. Then I see Peter come into view. He's pointing a firearm at Mashburn.
Well, isn't this a wonderful development? An unstable young man with a gun who's just found out that the woman he's in love with has been cheating on him. This is just peachy.
And it, of course, means that...
Before I can even finish my thought Cho, Rigsby, and Lisbon burst into the room with their weapons drawn.
Great, more guns. That ought to help calm an already tense situation.
I come out from behind the hutch with my hands up. Not sure why. I'm not the one being held at gunpoint, but with the number of times I have been on the receiving end of a gun barrel it's kind of second nature to take on the I surrender posture when there are drawn guns in my general vicinity.
Lowering my arms slowly I say to Clarridge in a cool tone, "Peter, put the gun down."
"No, Mr. Jane, I can't. He took her away from me. He seduced her."
The "he" he's referring to is currently using the woman he supposedly loves as a body shield.
Erica rolls her eyes at his cowardly behavior and steps closer to Peter.
"Sweetheart, please," she purrs. "No one could take me away from you. I love you. I'm only using him. He means nothing to me."
"Just like you've been using me."
"No, Darling, I would never use you."
"Stop lying," he shouts. "I know now. The only reason you showed any interest in me was because you needed my help to..."
"No," Erica yells harshly.
"...murder your husband."
Peter expels a tired breath and lowers his gun. Rigsby takes it from him. I move to stand beside the broken young man and place a hand on one of his slumped shoulders. I feel for him even if I don't much care for him. He was just a lovestruck, naïve boy.
"Well... I think that wraps this one up pretty neatly. Wouldn't you say, Mrs. Flynn?" I ask Erica with a triumphant smile. "I knew we'd get you."
"Don't be so sure, Mr. Jane," she answers coldly and I feel my heart jump to my throat as I see her pull a gun of her own out from under one of cushions on the sofa beside her.
What happened next was so fast I didn't have a chance to see clearly what occurred. I was too busy being tackled to the ground by Lisbon. But when the commotion had finished I looked up to find Erica Flynn lying on the floor, dead.
Later I found out that it was Cho who had taken the shot.
Peter, who Erica had been gunning for, was badly wounded, but he would pull through.
Not the most preferable way for it to go down, but with this whole game of chance plan it could've been worse so I'd say that overall it wasn't too bad.
Conclusion:
"Oh for goodness sake, Jane. Stop being such a baby," Lisbon says as we exit the hospital. "It's just a little sprain."
"Just a little sprain," I exclaim with irritation. "Well that's sympathy for you isn't it? You sprain my wrist and I don't even get a sorry."
"Would you have preferred I hadn't pushed you down and let you get yourself shot?"
"No," I sulk. "But you could've been gentler about it."
She shakes her head at my played up idiocy.
"I'll remember that for next time."
Lisbon hails a cab and we both get in.
After she's given the driver the address for the office she takes hold of my wrist, leans down, and plants a gentle kiss on the injury.
"There, how's that?" she asks lightly.
"Better," I mumble as I feel my ears start to burn.
I can't believe it. She's actually got me blushing like some schoolgirl with a crush.
She keeps her hand lightly tangled with mine all the way back to the office. It gives me this feeling of my heart being too big for my chest. I'd forgotten what that feels like... wonderful.
As we're going into the office we meet Grace and Wayne coming out.
I give Rigsby a 'good for you' nod as they pass us.
"Jane," Lisbon says as she stores her gun safely in the top drawer of her desk. "Why did Erica try to kill Peter?"
"Same reason she didn't just divorce her husband. She wanted retribution for what he'd done to her."
"A payment of blood," Teresa murmurs quietly.
"That's very good, Lisbon," I compliment.
"Thanks," she replies distractedly already burrowing her industrious little nose into writing up the case report for Virgil.
I smile contentedly and settle myself on my couch to take a nap.
Later that night as we're getting ready to leave I ask Lisbon casually, despite my churning insides, "Can I take you out this Friday?"
She pauses in mid-reach for her coat. Her back is turned toward me and it seems an eternity passes before she turns to face me.
"I'd love to," she answers through a smile.
Stepping closer to her I ask another question.
"May I kiss you again?"
She nods and I step even closer, slowly lowering my lips to hers.
Unlike our first I kiss her gently this time round and pull back after a few moments even though I'd very much like to stay longer.
Apparently she wants the same thing because she places a soft hand on the back of my neck and stands on tip-toe whispering, "One for the road," right before sealing her mouth to mind once again.
I let her lead at first, but when she touches her tongue to my bottom lip some of my self control sort of flies out the window.
I exude more pressure while trying to coax her lips open further. She acquiesces with a moan and I slip my tongue in to caress hers.
It doesn't take long for things to get more heated than I intended them to.
Just as I realize my hands are sliding down Teresa's back heading for less than innocent territory, I reign in my lost self control and with great effort release her.
We're both breathing heavily and smiling.
After a few moments she turns away to get her coat, but I beat her to it insisting she let me be a gentleman and help.
We walk out together and I hail a cab for her.
Before getting in she presses a quick peck to my cheek, and then she's gone.
I stand there for a few minutes contemplating what just happened between us. If there was any doubt in my mind before there isn't now. When I ask her to marry me sometime soon... She'll say yes.
Teresa Jane. It's a good name I think. Don't you?
Thank you to all who have read and reviewed my amateur effort at writing. I hope it hasn't been disappointing. Feel free to review and let me know what you thought. -Bonnie
