First off, I need to apologize for this taking much longer than usual. Especially because I gave essentially no warning of my absence. Here's my explanation: First holiday in ages. It was fairly rejuvenating, but the long flight really put the tension back in. Oh, well.
Second off, I would like to thank all of the people who read, reviewed, subscribed, and favourited! It was very much appreciated and I thoroughly enjoyed reading and replying to each and every one of them. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor will I ever own, The Mentalist. It's on my birthday list, though. Nineteen's a big year, isn't it? Last year before one hits twenty.
Chapter Nine
December 16-17, 2002
He stood before the awe-inspired crowd, a bright light illuminating the stage. Squinting his eyes and holding the mic close to his lips, he continued to pace about the stage, talking. When he took a dramatic pause, the crowd inched ever so closer to him to hear what he had to say next.
Turning his attention to another woman in the crowd, he evaluated her appearance. She appeared to be average in height and weight, her tanned skin pulled tight over face and her cheekbones jutting out. Her lips were small and her eyes large and hazel.
Jane changed the hand holding onto the mic and pointed to her. "You there, what is your name?"
At the words directed to her, the woman blinked. "Uh, Sherie Cutts!" From what he could tell, this Sherie Cutts was tingling with excitement.
Nodding, Jane continued on with his con. "Sherie, you lost someone close to you." He paused and looked her over. She did lose someone, but not because of death. "They did not die."
When he mentioned that, Sherie's hands crossed together in her lap. Jane had to put in a lot of effort to hide his smile. "They left, did they not?"
"Yes!" she said.
"A family member, too."
Sherie Cutts also had a ring on her finger, giving him the sense that she was indeed married. And she did not look like this was a recent abandonment.
"Yes!" she said once more, gasping this time. "My brother! My sweet, older brother left right before he would graduate high school…"
In all actuality, Jane didn't care about her brother. Or really anything she had to say about her little life. So, to feed her on, he smiled and gave her a message that her "brother" wanted to give to her. She drank up the con just as he had predicted she would.
When he was done, he gave his audience one final look before he waved and started to exit the stage. But just as he was about to take a step off the stage, he saw someone staring back at him, their arms crossed tightly over their chest.
Lisbon.
He hadn't seen her since they had slept together, even though he worked a case the week before. She was still on medical leave and refused to see him. And out of some lapse of momentary kindness (of a sort), he let her have her privacy.
Continuing down the stairs, he handed the mic off and started directly towards Lisbon. When her eyes locked with his, she looked down and away. As he was about to stop in front of her and begin speaking to her, Martin walked into his line of sight.
Mentally groaning at the interruption, Jane put on a fake smile. "Roderick, it is good to see you."
Martin crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "Jane, we have a case."
"Oh?"
"A child was abducted from a high-profile home. We were asked to come in on this one, mostly because of you." Martin turned and gestured for Jane to follow. "Let's go."
When Martin started to walk away with Lisbon following, Jane reached out and grabbed onto her wrist. This made her entire body freeze and slowly turn to look at him. In her eyes, he could see some sort of fire. And not the happy, passionate kind that he missed from that night.
"How are you?"
She narrowed her eyes at his question and pushed him away from her. He stumbled back a couple of steps, but regained his footing and looked at her. "I'm fine," she replied acidly.
Coming to terms that she probably wanted him to leave her alone, Jane nodded and briefly watched her go. After she advanced a few more steps, he followed her and Martin out, pausing to inform the studio that he was leaving.
Heather Langston, the little girl, went missing forty-eight hours prior to December the sixteenth from Oakland, California. On the fourteenth, and only a couple of hours since the little girl had gone missing, her parents were constantly calling the CBI and asking for their assistance in finding the child. Minelli was the one who had told them several times that they could not act on anything at the moment, frustrating the parents only more and more.
After overhearing a conversation with the girl's parents and with Minelli, Lisbon wanted to help. Yes, protocol said they could do nothing at the time, but she still wanted to shout at Minelli (and Martin) to screw protocol. And she was quite sure that the family, the one that used dollar bills to blow their noses, would be perfectly fine with her tongue.
So, that was why she had been secretly working on the case since she had originally heard about it. And so far, she hadn't gotten anywhere. She was mildly relieved when the CBI took over the case, as that meant she would be able to actually devote more time to finding the little girl.
"Lisbon, brief Jane over the case," Martin commanded.
Nodding and reaching over to pick up the clipboard, she flipped over the page and started to read. "The girl's name is Heather Langston, aged five. She went missing from an Oakland supermarket on Saturday, the fourteenth. Her parents, Bill and Stacy Langston, have been asking since the same Saturday for the CBI's assistance."
She added the last bit knowing that it would get to Martin that he had denied helping the family at first. And by the look he shot her from the rearview mirror, he understood what she had been implying. Though, she doubted he could find any evidence of that, but he could reprimand her for giving him "lip" as he called it.
"Simmons is with the Oakland PD, reviewing the security tapes from the super—." Martin stopped talking when his cell phone started to ring. Without much hesitation, he picked it up, flipped it open, and held it up to his ear. "Agent Martin. Simmons, what have you got?"
Lisbon rolled her eyes, knowing that if she answered her phone whilst driving, she would probably get a black mark on her file. Instead of saying anything, she fiddled with the pen in her hand and looked out the window, secretly listening in on the conversation. Simmons had a rather loud voice.
Jane peered around the front seat and smiled at her. She could see it out of the corner of her eye. And she also knew Jane could see that, so she kicked the back of his chair. Hard. Luckily for her, that was the time when Martin drove over a rather deep pothole. Meaning, it was disguised.
"Sorry," Martin mumbled to his passengers as he continued on with his conversation with Simmons.
"They've got this really good interrogator, boss. It's scary how good he is. It's like he's ice."
Lisbon smiled at Simmons and let her head hit against the headrest. Leave it to Simmons to get excited over a simple interrogator.
"What's his name?"
"Kimball Cho."
Kimball Cho really was everything Simmons had said he was. He was a tough, no-nonsense interrogator. And that's what caught Martin's attention once he had met the Korean man. Though, still wary, Martin made the decision to speak with one of Cho's superiors once the case was over. In a way of sorts, this was like test-driving a vehicle.
After Cho's interrogation of one Cooper Haans, they were on their way to the suspect's home. The suspect, Joe Lister, was a known sex offender that lived not too far from the Oakland supermarket. Meaning, it is very possible that Lister could have abducted Heather Langston.
Upon their arrival, Martin stopped the car at the curb and got out. With much ease, he approached the door of Joe Lister's dinky home with Jane and Lisbon in tow. Clearing his throat beforehand, he knocked against the wood and waited.
A man in his early forties opened the door. His hair, sparse and greying in some areas, stood out in contrast with his darker clothes. When he saw the law enforcement officers at his doorstep, he stiffened, but spoke without hesitation.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
Martin nodded and gestured for Lisbon to pull out her notepad and pen. Then he flashed his badge at the hip to Lister. "I'm Agent Martin and this is Agent Lisbon." He pointed to his rookie and stopped at Jane. "And this is Patrick Jane, our consultant. We're with the CBI."
Lister drew his lips into a thin line and nodded. "Hi. Nice to meet you, I think." The tension in the air rose as Lister drew his arms across his chest. "What do you want?"
Shifting his footing, Martin looked over at Lisbon once more to make sure she was writing everything down. "We're investigating the disappearance of Heather Langston from the Oakland supermarket just up the road."
Lister nodded. "Okay," he said in a wary tone.
"Where were you on the afternoon of December the fourteenth, Mr. Lister?" Martin asked.
Lister shrugged his shoulders. "I was visiting my wife. She's in the hospital."
"Do we have anyone to verify that?" Martin challenged.
Narrowing his eyes and dropping his arms from around his chest, Lister appeared to be very angry at Martin's assumptions. "Now what are you asking me, Agent?"
"Uh, he's asking you where you were two days ago because you're one of our top suspected abductors."
Everyone stopped and turned to look at Jane, who just shrugged. "Though, I don't think he should be one of our prime suspects any longer."
Lisbon stepped up. "Why? We don't know anything!"
At her question to the consultant, Lister turned and narrowed his eyes at her. Jane exchanged his glances from Lister to Lisbon. "Well, he used contractions. That's a sign that he was telling the truth."
"You don't know that."
Martin turned to look at the exchange between his consultant and agent. Lister flashed a look at Martin and returned his gaze two the squabbling pair.
"Yeah, I do."
"No, you don't."
"Your argument is based on the fact that he used a contraction!" For effect, she waved the hand that held a pen towards Lister. "And that's based on nothing!"
Jane shook his head. "No. You're mistaken, Lisbon. He isn't lying when he says that his wife is in the hospital."
"You don't know that!"
"Yes I do!"
Lister crossed his arms over his chest again. "My wife is in the hospital, Agents." At his statement, Jane took a step back, smiled, and held his hand out. "And I do not appreciate this discussion in my presence!"
At his declaration, Lisbon whirled around. "Mr. Lister, I am so so—."
"No you're not," Jane said whilst smiling.
"JANE!"
"Please leave my home!" Lister said. "The CBI is no longer welcome here."
Jane turned to look at Lister and smiled. "On the behalf of the CBI, I apologize."
"Get off my property."
"No, really, I apologize. Agent Lisbon's just a little spiteful with me at the moment…"
Martin interrupted Jane this time as he started to walk away. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Lister. And I apologize for any sour feelings they may have caused."
Lister grunted and Martin continued on. At the departure of her boss, Lisbon narrowed her eyes and started after him. Jane fell in step beside her, and every time he tried to capture her gaze, she would always look away from him.
Once they got into the car, Martin looked into the rearview mirror at Lisbon. "When this is all over, I need to talk to you."
Nodding, Lisbon buckled in and they were off.
When the evening had come and gone, welcoming morning, a new suspect had arisen. And to question him, Martin took along Simmons with Jane. This felt like a jab to her confidence when they left for the vehicles, leaving the soon-to-be promoted rookie on desk duty. To answer the phones.
As she sat behind the desk, playing with a stubby pencil, a man walked by her and sat at another desk. From what she could tell, it was essentially his own, but she could also tell that he shared it with another cop. Then she remembered who this man was: Kimball Cho. For a couple of seconds, she watched the Korean man with mild interest, but continued on with what she was assigned to do when the phone rang. Yet again it was a concerned parent asking if they had found Heather Langston yet.
Hanging up the phone, Lisbon let her face fall forward into her hands. She just wanted to get back to Sacramento to sleep in her own bed. Lisbon also greatly wished for this case to end soon, and for it to be over with the Langston girl going home, alive and well, to her worried parents.
"I just want this to be over," she mumbled.
"It will be, eventually."
Looking up, she saw the same officer glancing over paperwork. She had never heard him speak, but she was certain that it was he. And for some reason, his words were strangely reassuring.
"Thanks, Officer Cho."
Sure enough, the "new" suspect was indeed the correct one. They found him pushing a screaming little Heather Langston into the trunk of a sedan. Once he had known that he had been caught, he seemed to try and decide whether or not to threaten the life of the little girl or his own. He eventually settled with Heather's, and held a gun to the small girl's temple as he roughly pulled her out of the sedan's truck.
Jane was asked to stand on the sidelines, as no one wanted him to get hurt or in the way. He did what he was told, for the most part, and watched behind one of the vehicles as Martin and Simmons negotiated with the child abductor. Eventually he drifted from the safety of the vehicle and watched as his appearance made the abductor grow shaky and uneasy. At this, Jane started to retreat.
"YOU CAN'T TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME!" The man yelled. "I WON'T LET YOU!" The little girl started to cry harder than she had been before at the sound of the man yelling.
Martin had approached him a couple of steps at that point. "Put the gun down, Mr. Burns, put the gun down."
"NO! NO I WON'T!" To show his protest, Mr. Burns grabbed a fistful of Heather's dark brown curls and held onto them rather than onto her tiny arm. This also showed that he was not afraid to hurt the little girl, which made Jane take another step forward as some of his paternal instincts cropped up.
"Mr. Burns…"
"LEAVE US ALONE!"
At that moment, Mr. Burns pulled away from the sedan and started waving his gun around like a deranged man on a mission. When he saw the gun go up in the air, Jane took a couple of steps back and held his hands up to show that he was harmless. Inside his chest, Jane's heart began to beat rapidly to the point where it started to feel painful and breathing became difficult. He then quickly discovered that moving backwards and putting his hands in the air was a terrible idea with a deranged man with a gun around.
Mr. Burns eyed him immediately and pointed the gun at him. Cocking it, he improved his aim. His finger was on the trigger followed by a loud bang. Seconds after that one, another was heard as a bullet was expelled from its chamber.
Jane stood, motionless, and watched as Mr. Burns started to fall backwards. Heather was screaming and sobbing at the same time now, her little hands trying to push the hand off of her hair. Another bullet was fired and Mr. Burns completely fell backwards, dead. Looking over his shoulder, Jane saw Martin standing with his gun still raised; smoke leaving the barrel as he continued to stare at the newly dead body of Mr. Burns.
Slowly, Jane examined his body for any signs of blood or wounds. Nothing, he found. Taking a deep breath and nearly falling over, Jane started for the writhing little girl on the ground as she tried to get out of Mr. Burns' death grip.
Kneeling down beside her, Jane slowly started to pry open the death grip and slowly began to work on getting Heather free. As he did his work, he would softly murmur comforting words to the small girl, occasionally pausing to tell her to look into his eyes and breathe alongside him. It usually helped keep her calm for a few seconds, twenty-eight at most, until she would start to grow panicky again.
After about ten minutes of trying to get her hair out of the deceased's grip, Martin kneeled down beside him with a pair of scissors. Jane knew the little girl wouldn't want to lose a lot of hair, but he also knew that she didn't want to be this close to the deranged man that terrified her for the past three days. So, they cut away the remaining hair that was still in Mr. Burns's grip and slowly helped the shaking girl up.
Heather didn't want to stand up on her own two feet, so she flung her arms around Jane. Taking the hint, he picked her up and held her close to him. Only then was the time he realized that some of the blood that had dripped off of the body had gotten onto her, and Jane sighed.
Pulling her closer to him, he rubbed her back in a soothing manner and brought her over to one of the recently arrived EMT's. They checked her over, noted only a couple of bruises and scratches, and announced that she was healthy. Only when the little girl's parents arrived did he finally look into her eyes and see what caused him to stop. Her eyes were green. A beautiful shade of green that reminded him of Lisbon's. Hell, this child could have been Lisbon's with the green eyes, dark hair, and freckled fair skin.
"T-t-thank you," Heather told him as she got into the car with her parents and drove to the police station with a full-on escort.
As they started to leave, Jane waved goodbye.
When she learned that Heather had been recovered and the abductor killed, Lisbon breathed a sigh of relief. Overall, the case turned out better than she had originally thought it would. In these types of cases, if the little girl was recovered alive and her abductor killed (or something akin to that), it was a job well done.
As they left Oakland to head back to Sacramento, Jane obviously coming along too, Martin had stopped to talk to Cho. She was not surprised that Martin had done this, as they needed a new agent and would prefer it if the new agent were an interrogator. Cho seemed surprised when the job offer was presented to him, but quickly masked it and told Martin he would have to think about it. Lisbon had a feeling that Cho would soon be working with the CBI.
Once they had arrived back in Sacramento, Lisbon then noted Jane's silence on the trip back. Not once did he say anything and nor did he try to play some useless road trip game. He remained quiet, as if he were in deep thought. And deep thought and Patrick Jane were not good mixes.
They stopped by the headquarters briefly to file things away and get to their own respected cars. When Lisbon caught sight of her car and started to it, she was stopped by Martin. When she was only a couple of steps away from her little Camry, she heard him clear his throat.
Slowly, Lisbon turned to face her superior. He stood; hands stuffed in his front pants pockets with a stern look on his face. Lisbon straightened her back and re-gripped the car keys in her hand and waited for Martin to fully address her.
"Agent Lisbon."
She nodded her head in acknowledgement. "Sir."
He took a step forward. "Do you know why I'm here, Agent?"
She nodded again. "Yes, sir."
It didn't take a genius to figure out that Martin wanted to talk to her about the behaviour she and Jane had displayed at the innocent suspect's home. She didn't know what came over her, but she knew that the way she acted was inexcusable. So, she kind of deserved this conversation.
"Has Mr. Jane done anything to you that I should know about, Agent?"
Lisbon knew her eyes must have widened briefly, but she regained her composure in record time. Martin appeared to have noticed it, as he shifted his footing and continued to give her the very same stern look that he had started off giving her.
"No, sir. Mr. Jane has not done anything." She honestly didn't know why she was protecting Jane, as he not only was the bane of her existence, but he very well had acted inappropriately towards her.
Martin did not appear to believe her. "Are you sure?"
She nodded. "Yes, I would have informed you otherwise."
There was a beat and Martin looked uncomfortable for a slight second. "Then are you two…lovers?"
When what he said registered, Lisbon felt her cheeks begin to warm up. To regain her composure, she swallowed. "No, sir."
From what she could tell, relief flooded across Martin's face. He quickly covered it up and nodded his head. "Well, that is all, Agent Lisbon. Drive safely and have a goodnight."
She nodded back to him. "You too, sir."
A few seconds after she spoke to him, Martin nodded his head in dismissal and walked away. After she saw him get into his car and drive off the premises, Lisbon got into her little Camry and drove home.
She arrived at her apartment in what seemed like record time. With a sigh of relief to be home, she cut the engine, got out of the car, and headed for her door. As she approached her door, she briefly contemplated whether or not she ought to check her mailbox, but decided against it. The mail could wait another day. She was too tired to check for any at the present time. With a slight shrug of her shoulders, she continued onwards.
Stopping before her door, she fumbled with her keys before sticking them in the door and turned. She opened the door and stepped inside the dark living (and kitchen) area of her apartment, but something felt off. As she stepped in, a strange prickling sensation made itself evident at the back of her neck.
Instinctively reaching for her gun, she heard a voice from her general couch area. "Good evening, Teresa."
With her hand still on her gun, she whirled around in the direction of the voice. As she continued to stare at the darkness, Lisbon could see a faint outline of a person sitting only a few steps away from her.
Hearing a rustle of fabric and followed by the click of the lamp, Lisbon came face to face with one Patrick Jane. In frustration, she pulled her hand away from her gun and let it fall to her sides.
"Jane, what the hell are you doing here?"
Jane looked around her apartment in a mock-lofty manner. "Waiting for you."
"Why?"
His gaze came back to hers. "What did Martin talk to you about?"
Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him. "That's none of your business, Jane."
Drawing his lips into a thin line, Jane shook his head. "Au contraire, Teresa, I'm sure it had everything to do with me."
She scoffed. "Right. Because the world just revolves around you."
He did not falter. "No, it does not. But Martin did express a desire to speak with you after we had a bit of a disagreement in front of a suspect. That, and there was an obvious amount of tension in the air." The corners of his eyes crinkled. "It was vaguely sexual."
Lisbon felt her cheeks begin to heat up, but she just blinked and looked away from his gaze. "There was no sexual tension."
"Ah, so you do not deny Martin's reasoning?" Jane paused for a moment and smiled. "And yes, my dear, there was most definitely sexual tension."
Her eyes snapped to his, and he continued. "Because I would most certainly be lying if I said that I wasn't attracted to you."
She swallowed. "You're married. You have a family."
"And your point is?"
"This is wrong."
"Having a healthy sexual appetite is wrong?"
"Only if you're married and not fulfilling your." She swallowed again and paused. "Desires with your wife."
"Meh. I make love to her."
Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest. "Sex, you mean."
"We had sex, Teresa. It meant nothing."
Lisbon's face flushed and she felt anger starting to bubble up within her once more. She took a few more steps closer to Jane until she towered over him as he sat on the couch. "Are you saying that I'm nothing? Because it sure as hell sounded like it!"
Jane shook his head. "No. I'm just saying that sexual intercourse with you is different than with my wife."
She shut her eyes and counted to ten. She made it to three before he spoke again. "I'm not saying that you were bad or anything. I'm just saying that I make love to Angela and have sex with the other women. I separate the two. It makes me become less atta—."
He was unable to finish his sentence. Lisbon lost her cool and punched him square in the nose. His head flew back, smacked against the wall, and then came back forward again. He stared back at her while clutching his nose, blood starting to seep through his nostrils.
"Get out," she said in a low voice.
When he made no sign of moving, Lisbon grabbed the front of his shirt, hoisted him up from the couch and pushed him in the direction of the door. He stumbled a couple of steps and turned to look at her with a mild look of…upset. Almost like he had regretted what he said.
Well, she would too if she had gotten punched in the nose.
Wordlessly, he left her apartment without looking back at her. And the whole time, Lisbon had her arms wrapped her body and contemplated whether or not to take a long, hot shower or bath. Because of what he had said, it made her feel unclean. Maybe she should have told Martin the truth.
Because Jane is Jane, he had to get in some kind of trouble at one point. Both in physical (earlier in the chapter) and kind of personal (relationship with Lisbon). So, the drama/angst had to come in at some point. Overall, their situation is going to be complicated in this fic. Nothing really is going to be simple for them. Secret: (At some points, they will think they have it figured out and that everything is simple/working, but not really.)