A/N: Thank you again for reading and reviewing, and for your well wishes for my health. I am doing much better now, and didn't end up needing a surgery I had expected to. Long story short: I was feeling up to writing this week. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Chapter 8
"Your Honor," said Brett Partridge, "if it please the court, my client would like to proceed with me as his lead counsel."
Judge Louisa Marks considered Partridge's request, sizing up the demeanor of Sheriff McAllister, who sat beside the attorney, wearing a department store suit and a benign expression.
"Mr. McAllister, I would like to hear directly from you please. Would you like Mr. Partridge to continue in your defense? I understand the death of Mr. Haffner might have come as a shock to you, and if you need time to gather your thoughts on the matter, I will grant a continuance…"
McAllister rose and spoke in his usual slow drawl. "Your honor, while I am saddened by the loss of Ray—Mr. Haffner, I am confident Mr. Partridge is up to the job."
Partridge tried and failed to hide his quick smile at McAllister's public approval.
The judge nodded, then turned to Lisbon. "Does the State have any objections to continuing this case, even though the defense's lead attorney's death is the subject of an ongoing investigation?"
"No, your honor," she replied. "The State is very interested in giving the people a speedy trial. We accept Mr. Partridge as the sheriff's lead counsel."
Judge Marks banged her gavel once. "Very well. Ms. Lisbon, you may proceed with your next witness."
Lisbon risked a glance over at Jane, whom she'd noticed earlier had been hurriedly scribbling on a yellow legal pad. She saw him pass it to Partridge, who frowned, gave Jane a dirty look, and pushed the pad to the side in favor of his own notes.
Jane shrugged and sat back in his chair, his elbows on the arm rests, his long index fingers steepled at his lower lip. An image of what he'd done to her with those fingers and that mouth mere hours before made her heart leap and her body tremble. Hoping her face wasn't as flushed as she felt, she forced her gaze back to her witness, a deputy sheriff who had witnessed suspicious behavior on McAllister's part.
Halfway through Partridge's cross-examination, he began to fumble, his voice stuttering slightly, and he seemed at a loss as to what to ask next. In desperation, he picked up Jane's legal pad. As Lisbon listened to Partridge, she almost smiled. Jane had made Partridge look totally inept with his pointless questions, and she easily destroyed him on her re-direct. As the judge dismissed court till after lunch, McAllister did not look happy, and Partridge looked in fear for his life.
The moment McAllister was escorted out of the court room, Jane had disappeared. She felt the buzz of an incoming text.
I have an idea.
What? she texted back.
Don't worry. Just think about that rematch you promised me.
She blushed anew, and hastily dropped her phone back in her pocket. But then she had the good sense to worry about what Jane's "idea" might be.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Jane took the elevator up one floor to what he suspected were court house offices. As he walked leisurely down the hall, he glanced into the glass walled offices until he found one that was empty. Drawing on years as a conman, he acted with purpose, as if he actually belonged in the office of the court clerk. The fact that it was the lunch hour and most of the office was out was a bonus, and no one questioned him as he slipped inside and hastily closed the door, then the blinds. He'd needed a clean phone and some privacy.
After getting the number through Information, he was connected to the local CBI office.
"Agent Kimball Cho, please," he told the CBI operator.
He was connected at once, and he listened impatiently as the line rang once, then twice, then a third time before the clipped voice of Lisbon's friend came on the line.
"Cho."
"Agent Cho, this is Patrick Jane. Sorry to bother you, but I knew Teresa had called you this morning—"
"She didn't call," said Cho. "Or if she did, I didn't get the message. I was out in the field." He took out his phone and saw that, sure enough, there was a text and a missed phone call from Lisbon. He'd been so involved with Haffner's death he had ignored his phone.
Jane was taken aback. "No one escorted her to the courthouse this morning?"
"No. Why?" Cho's voice turned even colder with concern.
He'd just returned from Ray Haffner's crime scene, and he was impatient to learn whether or not the lawyer's death had been a suicide. Knowing his involvement with McAllister, he doubted it. Now what the hell was going on on this front? Had Lisbon's plan with Jane gone south?
Dammit, Teresa, thought Jane angrily. Well, now she'd left him no choice. Like it or not, she needed protection.
"A couple nights ago, Red John abducted me with Ray Haffner's help."
"You sure it was him?"
"No doubt, even though he covered my head and tried to disguise his voice. He said he was a friend of McAllister's. He'd been watching me, was suspicious of my interactions with Teresa. I convinced him that I was just trying to uh, seduce information out of her to help in McAllister's case. I think he believed me, because he let me go."
There was a pause as Cho absorbed this information, and Jane could almost hear the man's brain working.
"Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"Teresa didn't want me to. She thought the trial would be disrupted if the CBI got involved. She wanted our plan to have a chance to work." He chose not to mention that Red John had threatened Lisbon's life. Besides, that was probably obvious, since Jane had already let slip the purpose of her calls this morning.
"Haffner's dead," Cho stated ominously.
"I know. I'm betting McAllister poisoned him."
"Why?"
Jane sighed. In for a penny…
"Because he likely found out Haffner was a member of the New Age religious group, Visualize, Red John's direct competition."
"Competition? For what? Murder victims?"
"No, said Jane. "Cult members." Jane looked up, heard talking just on the other side of the door. He was about to have company. "Look, I'll explain all of that later. Don't do anything yet about stopping McAllister. Let him get out tonight, watch where he goes from the jailhouse. You can't link McAllister to Haffner's death unless you can prove he can get out. I've put a plan in motion, and I have a feeling he'll be paying me a visit. At the very least, you can add charges of breaking out of jail, and maybe discover others in his network who are helping him."
"I don't like this, Jane. What if he kills someone else while he's out? Say, someone like Lisbon, or you, for example?" Though Jane wondered if Cho would care too much were Jane Red John's next victim.
Jane's voice turned bright. "Have a little faith in yourself, Agent Cho. You'll be there to stop him before that happens. And I'll see to it that Teresa is safe. Oops! Gotta go!"
Jane hung up the phone just as the court clerk opened the door.
"May I help you?" the man said, his annoyed tone belying his polite words.
"Oh, sorry. My cell phone died, and I needed to use a phone. Remember when there used to be pay phones? In my opinion, they died a very premature death. I mean, you never know-"
"Well this is a private office."
"Yes, sorry. I'll just be going."
Jane felt the weight of the clerk's angry stare all the way out the door.
Xxxxxxxxxxx
Cho sat heavily in his office chair, closing his eyes and rubbing his face in a rare show of frustration. He'd known this Patrick Jane person would be trouble the moment he saw him in the parking lot with Lisbon. But Cho wanted Red John behind bars so much he'd taken the risk of trusting a conman, and now he feared for a friend's life because of it. Cho had no one to blame but himself for that, but now Jane was offering trouble on one hand and Red John's head on the other. It was an easy choice. If he could link McAllister to Haffner's murder, maybe there was hope that he could in turn link McAllister to Red John. If what Jane said was true, Cho couldn't risk sniffing around the jailhouse, tipping McAllister off so that he didn't try to leave. Like it or not, Jane's plan seemed to make the most sense. But Cho knew he couldn't do this alone.
He picked up the phone and punched in Rigsby's extension. Even though Cho had come up in the ranks with Rigsby, then surpassed him, they were still close friends, and Rigsby's good nature had never allowed him to resent Cho's accomplishments. In time, Cho had no doubt Rigsby could have a command of his own—if he'd focus on his career more than the women and working out at the gym. But Rigsby might not be willing to sacrifice a home and family and put everything into his job, not to the extent that Cho had. Cho had made that choice early on, and Rigsby had yet to fully commit. He supposed time would tell.
"Hey," Cho said into the phone. "You up for an all-nighter? Off the books?"
The off the books part didn't even phase Rigsby, owing much to his deep loyalty and trust of their friendship. Instead, his only question was: "Are there snacks involved?"
Cho's dimples flashed, but his voice remained dry. "As long as it isn't Mexican again. I'm not spending all night in a car suffering those consequences."
Rigsby laughed. "Burgers it is then. Your treat."
Cho sighed in mock annoyance. "Fine. We'll leave after work. And this is black ops." This was their code for dressing all in black and coming fully armed and loaded. Cho had great respect for the law, but he wasn't above manipulating events in his free time. Nothing illegal, but he'd done things in the past that would be frowned upon by the CBI Director. Best to keep the higher-ups in the dark, let them think that when everything came together for an arrest, it was some sort of miraculous event.
"What's up, Boss?" Rigsby asked, suddenly all business.
"I'll tell you later."
Rigsby didn't question him further. But once Cho explained to his friend what was really going on, there'd be a lot of questions. Cho only hoped Rigsby's loyalty would extend to allowing a serial killer to go free.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
As the trial continued in the afternoon, Jane could almost feel the fury emanating from McAllister. Partridge had obviously had an earful during the lunch break, and he seemed shaken and wholly off his game when cross-examining Lisbon's next witness. Lisbon ran circles around him, and everyone watched as the jury's glances at the defendant turned cold and resentful. Jane had no doubt where McAllister was putting all the blame, and he suppressed a trickle of fear. This was a dangerous game, but Haffner's murder had changed everything. There was a chance now to pin this on McAllister, to get him in jail for life rather than mere months. With Agent Cho's help, maybe they could even get him to admit he was Red John.
Meet me at O'Malley's, texted Jane to Lisbon when court was dismissed at five.
OK, she replied.
He got to his car first, and sat inside, watching as Lisbon made her way to her Mustang. If Cho was watching McAllister, well Jane would watch Lisbon. He took his handgun from his glove box and set it on the seat beside him. He followed her closely, and she nodded to him in her rearview mirror. At O'Malley's she walked in alone, but he followed soon after, his gun now in his suitcoat pocket. It still wouldn't do for anyone from her office to see her fraternizing with a member of the defense team, so he joined her in the back part of the pub in a dimly lit booth.
They each ordered a beer.
He reached under the table for her hand, giving it a squeeze of comfort and longing.
"I want you to hang out tonight at the police station or the CBI," he told her. "I'm expecting Red John to come after me tonight, after what I did to sabotage their case this afternoon."
"Why did you do that?" she asked anxiously. "That was really stupid."
"Because I can help Cho prove that he killed Haffner, but the only way to do that is if we can first prove that McAllister is able to get out of his cell at night."
"Wait—what do you know about Haffner's death?"
He quickly explained his relationship with Bret Stiles, as well as Haffner's. He hesitated about telling her the reason he'd gone to see Stiles the day before, but already she seemed to know him better than anyone else ever had.
"What aren't you telling me, Patrick?" she asked.
He stared at her, enjoying these last few moments where she didn't hate him, didn't see him as a monster.
"I asked Bret for some poison to kill McAllister." She gasped and sat back against the booth seat, but he looked steadily into her eyes with a mixture of apology and resolve. He was sorry to have had to tell her, but not sorry about what he had planned to do.
"He threatened you, Teresa, and I couldn't stand the fact that even if he was convicted, he could still get out and kill if he wanted to. Our plan might have worked, but it would have been for nothing. He has too many people working for him within the legal system."
"So you were just going to murder him," she stated bleakly.
"Yes. Put the poison in his coffee."
Her hands came up and covered her eyes, and he felt his heart lurch to think she was crying over what he had done, or had almost done. When she removed her hands, he was relieved to see she hadn't fallen apart, but her eyes were definitely watery with emotion.
"I get it," she whispered. "But it would have been wrong."
"Maybe, but Haffner took my place, and he's dead because of it. Had either of us succeeded, I wouldn't have been sorry, Teresa. I don't blame you for your disappointment, but there are some things in life that are bigger than manmade laws. You respect and admire the beauty of our justice system, but you know that it fails sometimes. You said as much when we first met. That poison was my insurance policy, but now McAllister likely knows everything, or at least suspects. I spoke to Cho earlier. He knows about my abduction the other night, suspects like I do that McAllister killed Haffner. He's watching the jail tonight, and I'm going to make myself available for another kidnapping. He's pretty pissed off at me right now; he'll want to have a few words."
"What? You're using yourself as bait for a serial killer? No. I won't let you do that, not alone."
Jane smiled gently. "You don't have any choice. I'm following you to the police station, or somewhere else we both agree is safe."
She stopped arguing with him, and Jane raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "And Cho was onboard with this hairbrained scheme of yours?" she asked instead.
"Yes, though I doubt he's too worried about my life," Jane said wryly. "But don't get any funny ideas of your own, sweetheart. Cho will be there to stop Red John, and you'll be far from harm's way. Funny, I barely know the guy, but I trust his competence completely."
Their beers arrived and Teresa drank most of hers in one fortifying gulp. He took a sip and watched idly as she delicately wiped away foam from her mouth with a paper napkin. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to kiss it off her mouth himself, to taste how the bitterness of the beer mixed with her innate sweetness.
She was going to try to rebel against his plan, he knew it by the obstinate set of her chin. He was tempted to kidnap her himself, bind and gag her and leave her someplace safe. Later, he'd have the pleasure of untying her when Red John was safely dead. The thought of that reunion made his body stir with desire.
Jane drank more of his beer, munched on the pretzels from the bowl in the middle of their table, watched her eyes as she attempted to avoid looking at him.
"This is stupid and dangerous," she said at last, "You're no cop; you have no idea what you're doing. I think you should come with me wherever I'm hiding."
Jane smiled and shook his head. "They're watching me, Teresa, Red John's men. They're watching us both. If I run or hide, McAllister won't leave his cell tonight. You're with the DA's office. It won't be so strange for you to have to go to the police station, and even if he has cronies there, I think there are enough good cops that you'll be safe."
When her mouth still formed a stubborn line, he risked reaching across the table to openly take her hand. "Please, Teresa. Do it for me. For—for us."
Her eyes met his at that, and he knew in that moment that he wasn't just saying there was an "us" to get her to go. He really wanted to explore what they could be together.
"Patrick," she began, but whatever she was going to say died in her throat, and she closed her eyes a moment and held tightly to his hand. "Okay, I'll go," she said at last, and he actually believed her. "But you have to promise me you'll be careful."
"I will."
They finished their beers in silence and as soon as Jane paid the waitress, they left the pub together. It had grown darker, and Jane walked her to her car. "I'll follow you again," he said, "and when you're safely inside the police station, I'll head back to my hotel where they'll be sure to find me."
No longer caring who saw, Lisbon threw her arms around him, holding his body tightly to hers. She breathed him in, slid her fingers into the curls at his nape, and said a silent prayer:
God, please keep him safe.
He leaned away from her a little, then, lifting up her chin, he looked deeply into her eyes. Before she could utter a word, he was pressing his lips to hers. Their passion of the night before quickly reignited and he kissed her as if it were the last time, as indeed it might well be. Neither of them had been brave enough to voice their feelings, but they were both aware that this kiss, perfect and beautiful, was filled with an exquisite depth of emotion neither had ever shared with another.
They were so wrapped up in each other that they didn't notice the dark van that had pulled up behind the Mustang, blocking them from view of the pub. Suddenly, they were pulled violently apart, a cotton pillowcase thrown over each of their heads, before they were pushed inside the sliding door of the van. It tore quickly out of the parking lot. Everything had happened so fast that neither of them had had a chance to yell. Jane's hand went immediately to his pocket, but the big guy who'd wrestled him inside discovered the gun, and soon Jane felt his own weapon pointing at his temple. He heard Lisbon struggling against her captives, heard her cry out in pain. Beneath the cloth, Jane saw red.
"Be still or you both die," ordered a rough voice.
"Touch her again and you will," Jane growled. He supposed he should have expected the blow to the head, but before he could reconsider his threat, he crumpled to the floor of the van, unconscious.
The van sped on into the night.
A/N: How will they get out of this one? I'll try not to leave you on the cliff too long. Thanks for reading.
