Distracted Chapter Ten:
The next time Lisbon woke, it was from a bright ray of sunshine falling on her face. It came from the living room and peeked through the small opening of the bedroom door. When Lisbon opened her eyes, she had to blink from the sudden brightness. She lay down perfectly still and waited for her orientation to set in.
It happened really fast once she glanced to her side and saw the sleeping form of a man with olive-colored skin and tussled, dark brown hair. She kept staring at him. Not because he looked incredibly hot, but because she was afraid that the movement of her head would wake him up, she told herself.
His naked upper body and the curvature of his butt were visible above his sheets and it reminded her of the events of last night. She realized she was naked as well.
Although it had been way too long since she had felt passion like that, although it had made her sleep so well she felt more rested than ever and although she grinned at the idea of having him lie naked beside her, she also felt really nervous. She should get dressed, she thought and tried to fight the panic that was kicking in. This shouldn't be so hard, she thought. It was her routine. She would always make sure she was at least half-decent before the guy would wake up and leave once she was completely dressed. There was never any cause to be nervous and she always managed to keep to awkwardness to a minimum.
She couldn't do it this time, she thought. She had absolutely no idea how to handle this situation.
She still lay frozen in the same position and feverishly searched her mind for the solution.
Act as if she was still asleep and wait for him to wake up first? Wake him up now? Leave?
She was afraid that the wheels in her head were turning so hard the noise would wake him up. To calm herself, she tried to focus on her work at the CBI. She had everything under control there. They caught the killer, got three confessions and a happy prosecutor. Wainwright would be thoroughly satisfied with her repo… Shit.
She sighed desperately and tried to search for an alarm clock without waking Ardiles up. She couldn't find one. She let her body slide from underneath the covers before getting out of the bed. Tip-toeing around the room, she found a trail of clothes leading to the living room. Fishing hers from the floor, she quickly put them on and slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her as far as possible, without it making a sound.
The view was still breathtaking, but when Lisbon took a moment to glance outside, she noticed that the sun was already much higher in the sky than she had hoped. Having no idea where or if there was a clock to be found in this apartment, Lisbon checked her phone and nearly stormed out without putting on the rest of her clothes when she saw that it was already 12:35 p.m.
Wainwright had made it so very clear to her that he expected an update on the case every day after the small incident where Jane punched Oscar. Normally, she would have done it yesterday, right after they got back to the CBI. She would have eaten a slice of case-closed pizza with the team and then she would have retreated to her office, writing the initial case report until it was finished so it would be waiting for Wainwright in his e-mail when he arrived at work today.
But she hadn't. She had gone home with Oscar Ardiles instead. And now she had less than three hours to finish the report and send it to Wainwright so he would still have half an hour to read it before he went home. She picked her shirt up from the heap it formed with Oscar's shirt and put it on. She had to leave, now, but hesitated what to do with the sleeping man that had been so loving and fond of her last night, but could just as well be so harsh to her that it appeared as if he didn't care for her at all. It all depended on how he was going to react when he woke up, but since she didn't know that on forehand, she had no idea as to what to do or say to him and had really no time left to figure it out. So walked over to the front door, patting her trouser pockets to make sure her keys and wallet were still there and put on her brandy colored ankle boots just before opening the door and slipping out without making a sound. She pulled the door close with the utmost care, slowing it when she let it fall back into the lock. She sighed, turned around and tip-toed to the elevator as fast as she could. She walked in and pressed the 'ground floor' button. She waited for the doors to close while she stared at Ardiles' front door. She noticed that an increasingly larger part of her wished that he would come out of it right now to get her back and to tell her to screw the report for today. But the elevator doors closed before anyone had come out, so she figured this was how it was going to be.
Once she got downstairs, she left the building and only outside dared to call a cab. The woman on the phone told her it would take some fifteen minutes for her cab to arrive, but she didn't mind. Although she knew precious time was wasting away, she needed some time to clear her head and she found the feeling of staring at the entrance of Ardiles' building, hoping he would come rushing through it, strangely comforting. It could happen, she kept telling herself. She had no idea what would happen next, after he had come rushing through. What she wanted from him or what he wanted from her. If it would be awkward or comforting.
She would have to think about that, because at some point, she was going to see him again. But now was not the time. She had to focus on getting her work done in time, putting all other things aside. That she had to work on a Sunday was her own fault, as was the fact that she had to work hard to finish it in time.
She thought about where she should go, straight to the CBI or go home first? She definitely needed to go home first. She needed to shower and put on fresh clothes, not in the least to prevent Jane from making annoying comments and asking inappropriate questions.
It did take the cab fifteen minutes to show up and another fifteen to get to her house. She paid and got out, feeling strangely relieved to be home. She briefly checked her phone while she walked up to her front door to see if there were any messages left by perhaps Wainwright, or Ardiles.
There were none, so she entered her house and sighed. She knew she was running out of time to write that stupid report, but she really had to shower before she could do anything else.
While she showered, she let herself think about the Ardiles situation. She had never been one to jump in the sack with just anybody, but this time, she knew things were different. The passion between them had been one that could only exists when two people really cared for each other. And she knew that was the case, because she had found that it had mattered to her that it was him that was making love to her. That it had been them who hadfinally connected so intensely. She knew this night would have implications. Not really wanting to think about those, she wondered how she had gotten to this point where she had no clue as to what the future would bring.
It had been because of their working arrangements. She had been totally unobservant of her own evolving feelings toward Oscar Ardiles. And even more so of his feelings for her. She had taken the matter all too lightly, just glad when they finally started to get along, and before she knew it she had found herself overwhelmed by the strongest desire between them. And she had given in to it, unaware of the fact that the next morning, she would be showering way too long while she had a report to write, thinking about what would happen next between him and her.
She dried herself and went to her bedroom to change into her comfortable clothes, knowing there was no use in trying to get to the CBI now. It would take far too long to get to the CBI, let alone to wait for a cab as well. So she went to sit at her kitchen table, her laptop in front of her and nothing but her memory to consult. Luckily, her status reports from the case were filed on her laptop as well, so with some luck, she could copy some parts from them. She would put more effort into writing the official case report, first thing tomorrow, but for now, this would have to do.
While she was typing away as fast as she could, Ardiles woke slowly, with his internal clock telling him that it must be nearly two p.m. It was a Sunday, and on Sundays, his internal alarm never went off. He deserved it after waking up at six thirty from Monday to Friday. And yesterday as well.
The events of yesterday raced through his mind, from him arriving at the CBI so early, to them following Martin Philips, to arresting the killer, to driving back, celebrating, to them going to a bar, to him dancing with Lisbon, to them leaving together, to them…
He rolled over to his other side and saw nothing. Well, rumpled sheets that indicated that there had been something before, but wasn't there anymore now. He felt more disappointed than a six-year-old finding no presents under the tree on Christmas.
He stared at the empty spot beside him for a while before he let his hand glide over it. It felt cold, so she must have gotten out of bed some time ago. He looked over at her night stand, and then rolled back to his other side to look at his, but found them as empty as always. A dreadful feeling started to settle in his stomach, but he got out of bed anyway. He searched the floor to find any piece of her garment left that would indicate that she was still there, but found none. He put his boxer briefs back on and threw the rest of his clothes on the bed. He walked into his living room and stared outside for a while. The sky was grey and one giant cloud after another came moving by. What a crappy day, he thought to himself. He heard nothing while he stood there, so there was no more hope that she was still in his apartment. Still, he walked around the room, perhaps finding a note somewhere. When he didn't find it on his table or the kitchen counters, his couch or his coffee table, he checked the glass shelf underneath the mirror in his bathroom and after that the cupboards in the kitchen. It wasn't there. She wasn't there.
She had left. She had left him. Both the fact and the thought hurt him badly. He pulled the curtain close and shuffled back to his bedroom. When he saw his pants lying on his bed, he pulled his cell phone from its pocket.
No messages. He let himself fall down on the bed and rolled over to the side where he wasn't lying on any clothes. He pulled the covers up and tried to get back to sleep again. But the sheets smelled of her and of her shampoo and a little of sex, so he couldn't find the peace of mind to fall asleep. Either that or the fact that he had been sleeping for ten hours.
After trying to fall asleep for a while longer, to no avail, he threw the covers from his body and jumped out of bed. The familiar feeling of agitation came rushing through his body and mind again. Without dressing first, he started to pull the dirty sheets from his bed and collected them in his laundry bag. He was sweating a little when he was finished and found that he liked the feeling of physical exercise. Deciding that he would go for a run, he grabbed his shorts and a t-shirt from his closet, put on some socks and found his running shoes next to the front door. He grabbed his laundry bag and detergent and put his cell phone and wallet in his pockets.
He went to a launderette a few blocks away. There was only one other man, reading his newspaper while he waited for his laundry to be ready. Ardiles put his sheets in the machine and filled it with a fair amount of detergent before he pressed for a long washing program. After putting some coins in, he hesitated what to do next. The weather outside seemed baleful, but having to spend an hour and thirty minutes, either here or at home, alone with his thoughts while waiting for his laundry to be ready, would be more disastrous to him than any weather condition. So he did a quick warming up and went outside.
While he was running as fast as he could, ignoring the squalls that were pulling the trees from one side to the other, he managed not to think about Lisbon. He ran as far as he could, sometimes resting in the nearly deserted parks, and he decided he liked the change of weather. When his internal clock told him it was time to go back, he was covered in sweat and out of breath, and he couldn't help but notice that it didn't feel nearly as good as when he was in the same state last night. He jogged the four miles back to the launderette and switched his laundry from the washing machine to a dryer. The drying would take another hour and a half, so he decided to go back home to shower.
He knew he had to stay busy, so before he went to shower, he called a cab that would take him to the CBI so he could take his own car back home.
The cab arrived just after he had tied the ties of his shoes. He had washed all the dirt from his body and had put on fresh clothes. While he had been combing his hair, he hadn't been able to stop staring in the mirror at the fading contusion around his eye. It was the last thing that reminded him of the strange reality that had been the last week. It was the last evidence of his week with Teresa Lisbon.
The cab brought him to the CBI and he knew he could be so close to her. He knew she could be up there, working behind her desk. He could go up to check if that was the case, but he didn't. Instead, he walked to the parking garage. He spotted his black Aston Martin soon, and wondered for a second if Teresa's car would be there as well. He refused to look around and drove home, picking up his dry laundry on his way back.
While Ardiles spend his whole night making sure he wouldn't think about Teresa Lisbon, Jane did just the opposite. He had been waiting for her to come to her office all day. She was just too dutiful to not write the report in time. Unless Ardiles had convinced her not to care about work today… Jane had been running every scenario in his head, trying to figure out what was going on. When he spotted Ardiles walking to the parking garage, alone, he almost dared to hope that there was nothing going on between Ardiles and Lisbon.
He wasn't stupid, of course. He knew there was something between them. But still, this was a far better sight than the last time he saw Ardiles.
He wished Lisbon would come to work. He wished she was there, with him. He could tease her about her awful choice in men, she would blush. He would make some personal observations that would make her blush even more and then he would show her that he forgave her, and she would look at him with the utmost relief in her eyes, as if nothing meant more to her than his opinion. As if nothing meant more to her than him.
But she hadn't come in today. It was too late now to have hope that she would come in before tomorrow. Wainwright had gone home long ago, so she either had finished her work somewhere else, or she hadn't finished it at all. He had no idea, because she wasn't there to ask her. Around twelve, he decided he should go to his bed and try to get some sleep. When he lay down and stared at the roof beams above his head, he found that if he had one wish for tomorrow, it would be that Lisbon would arrive at work as single and unattached to Ardiles as possible. As long as that would happen, he couldn't care if the day would be filled with paperwork, or if they had to suck up to the big guys, or whatever; he would undergo it all diligently.
While he slowly drifted off, Lisbon lay in her bed, thinking about what tomorrow would bring. There were three guys she had to face sooner or later, and it struck her that the angry boss was the least of her problems. Not wanting to think about what she would do with the others, she hoped that the inspiration of the moment would help her out tomorrow. When she finally started to slumber, she wondered if Ardiles was thinking about her as well.
And he was. He had spent all his waking hours trying to keep himself from thinking about her. But now he was lying in his fresh, clean bed, with absolutely nothing to reminded him of her, he couldn't stop thinking about her.
It probably was a combination of the overdose of sleep she had had these past days, and the restlessness in her body that made Lisbon wake up an hour early. Not knowing what to do with this extra time, she decided to get to work early and prepare herself for what was to come. When she was all ready to leave, she searched her apartment for her car keys, only after a few minutes realizing that they were still at the CBI, as was her car. She sighed and called for a cab. While she waited for it, she stared outside her window. It was raining cats and dogs and the dark grey sky indicated that it would keep raining for quite a while. When the cab driver rang her doorbell, she checked if she had everything with her before she opened the door. When she walked out, she instantly felt that she was dressed far too coldly. There was an erratic wind, blowing the pouring rain against her from every direction. But she knew it was too late now to change her clothes. She had to get to the office before everyone else would, so she could settle in before she had to face them. Quickly, she ran to the car and got in.
It took almost half an hour before they neared the CBI. They stopped at a parking space alongside the road a few yards from the building.
"We're here ma'am" the driver said.
Lisbon looked very displeased. "It's still 500 yards from here to the CBI entrance…" she said.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm not allowed past the barrier. And with this traffic, I can't stop in front of it…" he said apologetic.
Lisbon knew he had a point. "Right…" she sighed.
She paid the man and grabbed her bag. When she stepped out of the car, she knew she was never going to make it inside without getting completely soaked. She started to run towards the gatekeeper. She showed him her badge and it seemed as if he took extra long to examine it. Eventually, he nodded that she could go through, but at that point, it didn't matter anymore; she was already as wet as she could get. She walked across the parking lot to the entrance, where she could finally step out of the rain.
She walked to her office as fast as possible, not even bothering to check if Wainwright or Jane or anybody had arrived at work already. She went to sit behind her desk and sighed. This day had already started far worse than she expected, and she hadn't even tackled any of her problems yet. Deciding to focus on her work, she figured she should start writing an outstanding case report to show Wainwright. She had managed to finish the initial report in time yesterday, but she knew it wasn't very good. When she had started her computer, it immediately pinged to tell her she had mail. From Wainwright. Regarding her initial case report. As she expected, he wasn't too thrilled about it. Always trying to say something nice, though, he complimented her on how she had brought this case to a good end, satisfying all involved parties.
'That is, if I managed to gather that correctly from your brief summary of the case' Lisbon read at the end of the e-mail.
She sighed. What an awful day. She felt cold, and sad, and nervous and she had nothing to look forward to.
Just as she was looking down, willing the sadness to go away, she heard someone knock on her door.
"Enter" she heard herself say and her head shot up. She wished with all her heart that it was Cho, or Rigsby, or Van Pelt, but she knew it probably wasn't and she felt utterly unprepared.
Of course it wasn't Cho, Rigsby or Van Pelt. When she turned to face the door, she saw a suit-clad arm open it. She felt an overwhelmingly fluttery feeling in her stomach.
Ardiles stood in the door opening, staring down at Lisbon, who was looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes with something between panicky shock and hopeless desperation in her eyes. She was completely soaked. Her hair was curling from the dampness and her dark green blouse was sticking to her body, which in itself wasn't a bad sight, but combined with the sad look in her eyes and the corners of her mouth hanging down, her lips pursed like only she could, she just looked so frail and helpless. And that was bad, because it made him want to go over to her and hug her, offer her his jacket, kiss the sadness away, instead of showing her that as far as he was concerned, there was nothing between them. Like he intended.
"Hi…" she said softly and unsure.
He looked away and stared outside her office window, to prevent her sadness from ruining his plans.
"I just came from Wainwright…" he said surly.
Immediately, Lisbon had a flashback to Saturday night, when he was kissing her against his window-wall and told her to remind him to thank Wainwright. She knew this was totally not the right moment to be thinking about that, but she couldn't keep from blushing and knew from his look that when he noticed it, he was thinking about the same thing. He looked away again while he quickly continued his story.
"So I retrieved my complaint and he agreed that the work-shadowing is over" he said casually.
Lisbon had no idea how to respond. She hadn't figured that he would just ignore that they had slept together, or that he would ignore that she had left without telling him. But he was ignoring all that and it appeared that he wasn't aware of the fact that it was hurting Lisbon more than she had imagined.
She felt unprepared for his behavior and tried hard to keep her emotions under control.
"Thank you..." she eventually managed to say. He didn't even look at her.
"Yeah, well, I did it mostly for myself…" he answered immediately, not seeming the least bit shaken or affected by this. He had smiled a little while he said it, as if it was only natural for him to care only for himself. As if they were back to showing each other how much they disliked each other.
She wondered if he had just been acting more friendly last week because he wanted to get inside her pants.
She stayed silent after that, and thought about his behavior. While she looked at him, she hoped that he would show that he did care about her and what had happened between them. Eventually, he looked back at her. As soon as he did, he couldn't keep his casual façade up any longer.
Both of them hoped the other would speak up. Both of them hoped they would find a way to discuss what had happened and what they would do next. But they both were unable to see their own emotions reflected in each other's eyes, so they stayed silent.
Lisbon's lips parted at the same time Ardiles inhaled sharply, as if they were planning on saying something, but didn't.
Ardiles turned around and walked to the door. He had to work hard to keep from letting his head hang down. He grabbed the doorknob, but hesitated. He had just hoped and thought that she would speak up before he would leave. But she hadn't and he felt that he didn't want to give up just yet. He turned around and looked at her again. She still looked as frail and helpless and… sad as she had when he had entered, perhaps even more.
"Have you… Have you been crying?" he asked as insecure as she had ever heard him.
"No…" she answered confused.
She saw the last bit of hope disappear from his eyes.
"I just thought… Your… makeup…" he said softly while he pointed to his cheekbone. Lisbon followed his example and touched the skin underneath her eyes. When she looked at her fingers, she saw mascara and knew it must have been smudged around her eyes.
"Oh… I think it's probably from the rain" she explained and tried to be as nice as possible, hoping he would stay a little longer.
"Right" Ardiles answered and looked down, as if he felt embarrassed. When Lisbon saw him pushing the door open, she had to fight not to jump up from her chair and ask him to stay. When he walked through the door, he turned around and looked at her with a cold, distant attitude.
"I hope you and your team have learned something from my presence and that we won't have to complain so much anymore" he said harshly. "Goodbye."
When he walked out, leaving Lisbon sad and upset, Jane came walking in, brushing past Ardiles. They look at each other, but their usual layer of competiveness was very thin and underneath defeat was clear on both of them. Lisbon had thought it would make her feel better to see them a little less competitive, but she just felt lousy.
Ardiles looked at Jane one more time, wishing he would be like him. Wishing he would be the guy that survived all the one night stands. The only guy Lisbon would always come back to and who would always know he mattered to her. But he wasn't that guy, so he walked away, determined to harden his heart even more.
When Jane watched him walk away, he raised his eyebrows and walked over to Lisbon's couch to lay down like some guard dog. He had caught the last words Ardiles said to Lisbon and wondered why he acted so harsh to her. Part of him wanted to smack him in the face again for just that and hug Lisbon to make her feel better, but his hurt feelings said that it was her own fault. He had hoped so badly that she wouldn't sleep with Ardiles. But she had, so now she should sort out her problems with him by herself. Suddenly he felt the need to hurt her a little like she had hurt him.
"You clearly know how to improve a relationship…" he said sarcastically and a little harsh, but he regretted it immediately after the words left his mouth.
Her heard Lisbon sigh and turned his head to look at her. She was rubbing her face and looked like she could start to cry any minute.
He desperately wanted to make her feel better, but he didn't know how. So he distracted her with talk about work and felt extremely thankful when he could help her with writing the official case report and other paperwork.
It didn't take long for them to get back to their old routine and soon it appeared as if Ardiles never came between them. It was just after they had finished the report and Jane was just thinking about how the wish he made last night had come true, when Rigsby came storming in. Jane had been in the brightest of spirits this morning, so he didn't catch the alarmed look on his face. Lisbon did though, because she still expected everything to go wrong that day.
"Rigsby, what's wrong?" she asked.
Rigsby looked from her to Jane and back to her again, hesitating a little.
"There's been a murder… They think it was Red John…"
And just like that, the day completely turned around for Jane. The smile fell from his face and he felt an idiot for thinking he could have a good day for once. He felt an idiot for thinking his wish would be granted by whom- or whatever was up there, without letting him pay the price for it. Of course he was never going to get a break.
Lisbon hurried from behind her desk to the bullpen to find out more, but took a moment to look at Jane and saw that he was closing up again, no trace left of his good mood.
Jane hadn't looked at Lisbon. The last few days had just been too confusing to be thinking about her when he should prepare himself to work another Red John murder. When she had left her office, he closed his eyes. He didn't open them until Lisbon came walking back into her office, grabbing her gun and her other stuff.
"You coming?" she asked.
Jane stood up and walked out without saying anything.
He stayed silent during the ride as well. Lisbon knew it was no use to pressure him into talking. And even if it would help, at the moment, she just didn't dare to be the one to ask him to confide in her. For some strange reason, she feared she had hurt and betrayed him too much for that and wished more than ever that she hadn't. She glanced to her side for a moment to see him slumped against the door, staring outside the window. He had been so cheerful this morning, only to be sent back to that awful world Red John had created for him. Lisbon wondered if Red John had planned it that way.
At the same time, Jane was thinking along the same lines. They had literally just finished up their previous case and were all free to focus all their attention on him. Their car stopped when they saw the yellow police tape in front of them and they got out. Cho saw them coming and walked towards them. They ducked underneath the police tape.
"Cho, what have we got?" Lisbon asked while they walked up to a large black, iron gate leading to a large estate. The long driveway behind the gate led to what looked like a classic built mansion. What was on the gate, however, was the reason why they were there. The shield that was build in the middle of the gate and usually showed the family weapon, was now covered in blood. It showed a perfect smiley face that nearly distracted all the attention from what was lying beneath it.
The dead body of a woman lay face down on the curb. Her right arm was stretched, as if she was reaching out in front of her. She was facing away from the gate. She wore a pair of jeans that looked like they were from the nineties and a loose fitting dark blue sweater. She wore white, plain loafers on her feet. Her hair was graying. From what Lisbon could tell on first sight, she must have been nearing her fifties.
She turned her attention towards Cho, who started to tell her the information he had gathered so far.
"Her name is Mary Chapman, age 43. Stabbed once in her chest, once in her stomach and once in her neck. Cause of death was the cut to her jugular. She was an inpatient of the mental facility here. She was brought here in 2001 after she confessed to the third Red John murder and was diagnosed with severe schizophrenia" Cho told her and Jane.
Jane didn't seem to be paying much attention, but went to investigate the smiley face on the shield and the body. Lisbon let him and looked back at Cho.
"So what's her connection to Red John? If this really was Red John…"
"It was him!" Jane cut in while he took a close look at the victim's face.
"Okay" Lisbon said hesitantly. "How can you tell?"
Jane got up to look at her.
"I just know it" he said earnestly.
Lisbon would have challenged him in it if she hadn't felt the same thing about this case.
"Alright. So what's her connection to Red John?" she asked. "It seems a bit late for him to take revenge for her claiming his victim back in 2001…"
"Yes…" Jane agreed and thought for a while. "I don't know yet, but I'll figure it out" he said determined and Lisbon felt relieved that he was talking to her again.
"Alright. Cho, has somebody informed next of kin?" she asked.
"No, there's no one listed" he told her. Lisbon frowned. It was always sad when somebody died and no-one would miss them.
"So who found her?" she asked.
Cho pointed to a woman in nurse clothes, talking to a local police officer.
"Her name is Vivian Mayer. She came to work around ten and found the body lying here."
"Ten o'clock? And no-one had noticed the body before?" Lisbon asked incredulous.
"It appears so, Van Pelt and I are still interviewing the rest of the staff" Cho said.
"Good. You guys keep doing that and tell me if you find anything. Jane and I will go talk to Vivian."
Cho nodded and walked away. Lisbon called Jane and together they walked over to where Vivian Mayer was waiting for them.
"Mrs. Mayer, I'm agent Teresa Lisbon and this is my consultant Patrick Jane. We want to ask you some questions about this morning" Lisbon asked in her kindest voice.
"Sure" the older woman nodded. She seemed honestly upset.
"We were told you discovered the body this morning. Can you tell us what happened?"
Vivian glanced past them for a second to look over at the dead woman lying on the ground and nearly started to cry.
"It's okay" Lisbon said soothingly. "Were you very close to her?"
"Yes. Well, that is, she was a patient, and I never knew if she felt the same way, but I had the idea that we had a certain bond, you know?" Vivian told them. "I was already working here when she was just brought in. She was so unhappy back then. It was just after the onset of her schizophrenia and she wasn't on the right medication yet. In her first year with us, she did three suicide attempts. But the last few years, it had been going so well. She had accepted that her place was with us and seemed quite stable…"
Lisbon nodded empathically, but noticed that Jane was getting more and more agitated. She knew he wanted to ask her about Red John.
"Did anything change lately?" Lisbon asked.
Vivian didn't have to think long before answering.
"Yes. She was relapsing. When she came in, she kept saying she was or knew a murderer named Red John. We hadn't heard about him and figured it was either part of her paranoia, or she really was a murderer. In both cases she was best off with us. And when she stopped talking about it, we hadn't thought about it for years, until she started mentioning him again. It started again about nine months ago. She would tell other patients that she had killed a lot of people and that no-one was safe. We figured it couldn't be true, but just to be sure, we started to gather some information about this Red John. In fact, we had a meeting planned among the staff to discuss whether we should go to the police or not…"
"Why would you go to the police if you were sure she wasn't Red John?" Jane asked.
Vivian switched her attention from Lisbon to him.
"Because of all the details she knew! She would tell things about those horrible murders she just couldn't know."
"What kind of things?" Jane asked.
"Things like names, places, how many times the victims got stabbed, those kind of awful things…"
"Yes, that is indeed strange" Jane agreed. "But you don't have to worry, she wasn't Red John" he told her.
Lisbon looked at him in disapproval.
"Let's get back to our other questions" Lisbon tried to steer the conversation away from Red John for a moment to let Jane cool down. "Vivian, can you tell us what happened this morning when you found her?"
Vivian nodded. "Right, yes, sure. I had to work today at ten. I was a little late, so I was already searching through my purse for my ID-card while I drove up to the driveway. I stopped to open the gate with that card. You have to put it in front of the scanner and the gate will open. I looked in front of me and there I saw a red smiley face on our gate. Since I had been looking up that Red John, I instantly recognized it and freaked out. When I got out, I saw Mary lying on the ground. I noticed the blood in her clothes, but since there was no blood on the ground, I had hope she might be still alive. But I couldn't find a pulse. I freaked out and called 911."
"So you didn't see any blood other than that on Mary?" Lisbon asked.
Jane rolled his eyes. "Well of course there wasn't, Lisbon. Because Red John didn't kill her here. He brought her body here to make a statement. What that is, I don't know yet" he told her.
Lisbon frowned. Before she could form a reply though, Jane went on.
"So, Vivian, is there any other way she could have gathered that information? Internet, newspapers, anything?" he asked.
"Ehm, well, no, actually. We made sure of that. All those kind of media can have bad effects on some patients, so it's monitored very closely what someone does and doesn't see" she answered.
Jane looked a bit puzzled.
"Huh…"
Lisbon took this moment to regain her control over the situation.
"Are you finished now, Jane?" she asked. He looked over at her, seeming deep in thought.
"Yeah, sure…"
Lisbon thanked Vivian and asked her to call her if she had anything else relevant to the case.
When she and Jane walked away, he turned back suddenly.
"Ah, Vivian, one last question. Did Mary ever have any visitors?"
"Well, yes, her sister, Susan. She came one every two weeks. Actually, she was the only one to come visit her in all those years Mary had been with us…" she sad and started to sob.
Jane decided to give her a break and thanked her before walking towards Lisbon again. He would get back to this later on.
"So, a sister, huh?" Lisbon asked.
"Yeah, that is weird, seen as she has none. Who would pose as a crazy woman's sister?" he mused out loud.
The joy a puzzle gave him quickly vanished once he walked up again to the bloody face smiling at him.
So the games have started again, he thought and felt a tiring heaviness settle in his body.