Thanks once again to the wonderful Canterlevi for taking time from her schedule to correct my story!

Chapter 10 More Complicated

"So what are we going to do?" Rigsby asked.

Lisbon looked at her team, now seated around the conference table. She stood quietly with her hands in her pockets and thought about what she would say. This whole situation could easily turn into a media crap storm, and that was the last thing the CBI needed right now, especially after the death of Wainwright. She looked down and shook her head.

"I don't know. I don't think there's much we can do without starting some international incident."

"We can't just let her get away…" Grace started to say.

"Believe me, that's not my intention, but we're going to have to be careful on this one." Her voice was firm, silencing any further arguments that might have followed.

"Where's Jane?" Cho asked.

Lisbon had hoped they wouldn't ask that. She knew that they had seen Jane's behavior with Erica before she'd escaped just as she had. The team had all but gotten over Jane's six month absence and she worried that this might throw a wrench into it. Either way she wasn't going to lie to them.

"He stayed with Erica after I left."

Cho sighed loudly, Grace looked down and Rigsby's face dropped.

"We all know that Erica has a soft spot for Jane, but that's not why she came back." She tried to sound as casual as possible. "She wouldn't risk getting thrown in jail for anything less than…" she paused. Why would Erica come back? "I don't even know what. That's what Jane's trying to find out. There's nothing we can do for now, so there's no point in worrying about it."

She realized her words were hypocritical, she had every intention of worrying about it later, but that didn't mean the team needed to worry about it. Amongst other things.

"Listen, there's something else that I need to discuss with you all." Lisbon removed her hands from her pockets and sat down. "It's about Lorelei."

This immediately had their attention. She almost felt she was betraying Jane by saying something. She had promised him a little more time, and she would give it to him, but that didn't mean she couldn't give the team what knowledge she did have. In her gut she knew something big was coming, and even though she didn't know what it was, she had to give them something, put them on their guard at least.

She chose her words carefully. "The last time Jane and I went to see Lorelei, she told Jane that Red John was going to send him a message in a month. As of today we have a week and half."

"What?" Grace's voice shot out and was full of worry and anger. Cho and Rigsby sat up straight in their seats.

Lisbon raised a hand. "I don't want you to start panicking. It would be playing into his hands."

"What kind of message," Rigsby asked.

Lisbon sighed. "I don't know, but whatever it is, we have warning this time."

"Red john doesn't give warnings." Cho said finally speaking up.

"No, he doesn't," Lisbon conceded looking down at the table, "which is why I told you."

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Grace asked.

Lisbon made eye contact with Grace. "I had a call to make and I made it." She made sure her statement was clear. "I'm telling you now so you can be aware, that's all."

"You shouldn't be worried about us," Rigsby inserted. "This is just what we talked about before. Red John didn't ask Jane to kill any of us, he asked him to kill you." He was calm and precise.

Lisbon threw her shoulders back defensively. "So, what? I should live my life in fear?"

"That's not what Wayne's saying," Grace defended.

Lisbon ignored her and continued, "Then what are you saying?" She looked at Grace first then Rigsby then Cho and watched as they all looked away from her. "I am the obvious next target, I get it but that's precisely why he won't come after me."

They all looked up at her uneasily.

"What's your reasoning?" Cho asked.

"This was the first time Red John said anything about Jane's relationship with me. Whatever he thinks is going on, it's a new idea to him, or he would have said something before. I think he'd much rather torture Jane with the idea that he'll come after me then actually coming after me." She said it with as much conviction as she could—even though she wasn't sure she believed her own words. "I'm not worried for myself."

"Boss," Rigsby said.

"Enough!" The more they talked about this, the thicker the feeling of dread surrounded her. "I'm fine. I'm going to be fine." She stood up and continued her thought quickly before the team could say anything else. "Rigs, I want you to look into the ramifications of arresting Erica Flynn, Cho, I want you to get Erica's and Conti's schedules for their duration in California, and Grace you're coming with me."

"Where?" Grace questioned.

"We're going to go talk to Alonzo Conti."

Jane stood across the desk from where Stephen Sinclair sat. Stephen was writing what Jane guessed was probably a note to a rival. It was almost charming that he wrote long hand. He was sure Stephen had his business down to an art form. He'd send letters that would then be read and destroyed. That way there would be no electronic footprint of his propositions. He wouldn't ever need to worry about any rivals trying to use his letters against him because Stephen was too powerful for them to be that stupid. Jane shrugged almost unnoticeably at the thought.

Jane lifted his hands and stuck them into his front jacket pockets as he casually looked around Stephen's office. It was just as garish as the room where he'd originally met him and his six decoys. His desk was made of cherry wood, and he had tapestries on the walls, and an ornate Persian rug on the floor. Stephen really enjoyed rugs. He also had what Jane was pretty sure was a fake Tiffany lamp on his desk. He was sure Stephen thought it was real or it wouldn't be here. Jane might have told him if he cared enough, but he didn't. There was also an old telephone on the desk, and a laptop computer.

Jane rolled back on his heels and forward on his toes, while taking a relaxing breath. He kept as apathetic an air to his demeanor as he could. Stephen was trying to elicit a reaction from him by taking his sweet time; Jane refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead he started whistling Battle Hymn of the Republic, making sure to emphasis important notes in the song as he did.

Stephen glanced up at Jane as he finished writing his letter. He smirked then folded it up and stuck it in a cream envelope. He stood up and walked across the room to his office door and handed the letter out. When he turned Jane removed his hand from his pocket and was dramatically directing the end of the chorus, while Stephen made his way back to his desk, and leaned against it facing Jane.

"Battle Hymn of the Republic," Stephen said when Jane finally stopped whistling.

Jane smiled in reply.

"That was my mother's favorite hymn. She used to hum it all the time when I was little," Stephen continued. "But enough of that. We both know you are not here to learn about my childhood."

"But I already have," Jane confessed. Stephen raised a questioning eyebrow, so Jane explained. "Learned about your childhood."

Jane watched as Stephen appraised him then smirked. Stephen raised his hands palms up, in a motion that suggested he wanted Jane to tell him what he'd learned.

Jane shrugged a little with a soft pacifying smile. "Maybe some other time."

"Yes, I forgot myself. You're here for a reason. After the show you put on last time, I admittedly have been wondering what other observations you've made." Stephen crossed his arms in front of his chest comfortably.

Jane's smile faded. He had a pretty good guess where this conversation was going. He decided to speed it up and get to the point. "I needed to weed you out. It was effective, but I also did what I did as a way of helping you understand that you can't lie to me, manipulate or upset me." His brow scrunched briefly at the last part of his statement. He hadn't mean to say 'upset.'

Stephen's smile got bigger. "I like you Mr. Jane."

"You shouldn't," Jane spoke firmly. "Ours is purely a business relationship. I tell you these things only so you'll know to continue wisely."

"I have no intention of lying to or manipulating you. Believe me, I am perfectly aware that I couldn't," Stephen confessed.

Jane looked away. This game was getting old. "Mr. Sinclair," his voice was more angry than it normally was, "if you have information now's the time to impart it."

"I do have information for you," Stephen let his words sink in.

Jane was furious. How long had he had this information and why hadn't he come to Jane with it, instead of waiting for Jane to come to him. He didn't say anything even though he had a few select words he really wanted to use. Instead he waited patiently, his apathetic expression returning.

"But before I can give it to you, I am going to need some guarantee that you will withhold your end of the bargain. A gesture of good faith, if you will," Stephen's voice was calm and cool.

Jane looked down at the red embellished carpet below his feet. "It appears that we are in a stalemate then. If I give you what you want now how can I be assured that you will tell me what you know."

"What I'm asking for is not what I really want. It's merely a trifle, a way for you to show what you are really willing to do to get this information."

Jane looked away again and rolled back on his heels, considering the situation. He'd been afraid this might happen, but he didn't really think he had much choice. He had to fight Red John on his level. If that meant bending rules, or breaking laws, well, he'd done both before. He knew it'd piss Lisbon off, she'd find out eventually, but again it was for a noble cause. "What do you want?"

Stephen wore a self-satisfied smirk that Jane didn't like. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of those.

"Have you heard of Mark Randle?" Stephen asked.

"Yes, he's a crime lord like yourself. Powerful, but not as powerful as you."

Stephen stood up and walked back around his desk and sat in his chair. "He and I have a business deal going down soon, but I'm not so sure that he intends on following through with his end of the bargain. I want you to go talk to him, use your skills, find out how honest he's being with me."

"What makes you think that he'll talk to me?" Jane's hands went into his vest pockets.

"James is waiting outside the door for you. You are going to go with him and deliver the letter I just wrote." He looked down at his desk. Jane could see that this was his way of excusing him.

Lisbon walked angrily back into the CBI HQ with Van Pelt at her heels. Their trip to the Italian Embassy had been pointless. Alonzo Conti had refused to see them and his body guards threatened to escort them off the premises if they didn't leave immediately. According to his guards Conti was perfectly aware of his wife's past and saw no reason why he needed to talk to them about her. Lisbon seriously doubted he had any clue what had really happened with Erica. Just some seriously diluted version of it.

Her and Grace stepped into the elevator, and Lisbon went to push the button, but slammed her palm into the metal just above the buttons instead.

Grace stepped over and quickly pushed the button. "I'm sure Cho and Rigsby have something," Grace said quietly, reminding Lisbon she was there.

"Why do men have to be such idiots sometimes?" Lisbon spat. She stood perfectly still with her hand where she'd hit the elevator and her head bowed. "A beautiful woman shows up, shows a little interest, and even when a police officer's shows up trying to warn you that you'll end up dead if you stay with her, they still don't listen."

"Are you okay boss?"

"I'm fine," Lisbon said as the elevator doors opened on their floor. She was starting to feel a little embarrassed by her outburst. She stepped quickly out of the elevator and walked to the bullpen.

Cho and Rigsby were at their desks when she walked in. Grace quickly made her way around Lisbon and to her desk, as Cho and Rigsby looked up at Lisbon.

Lisbon took a deep breath. She didn't want to yell at them. It wasn't their fault she was in a bad mood. "Have you found anything yet?"

"I have Alonzo Conti's schedule. Mostly meetings for the next two weeks, and then they go back to Italy." Cho stood from his desk and made his way over to Lisbon with several pieces of paper and handed them to her. "Erica doesn't have a set schedule, but she will be attending a few meetings with Conti and there's a formal dinner in his honor that I assume she'll be attending."

"Don't assume anything. I want to know where she is at all times. We'll take shifts following her. If we only have two weeks before she leaves again, then we need to make them count. She had at least ten body guards with her, so you'll need to be aware and careful." She turned from Cho and to Rigsby. "What have you got?"

Rigsby looked at her nervously. "It doesn't look good boss. We're obviously within our jurisdiction to arrest her, but as long as her body guards are with her and as long as she's married to Conti, this case isn't working in our favor. I really don't see any way of arresting her that won't cause a rift."

Lisbon knew this already, but she also knew that there had to be away. One thing she'd learned from years of working with Jane is that there was always a way. "Then we'll have to be clever. If the only way we can arrest her is by getting her husband to denounce her, then that's what we've got to do."

"Do you think we can?" Rigsby questioned.

Grace spoke up. "I don't know boss. Conti seems pretty steadfast."

"I don't care how steadfast he is." Lisbon raised a hand in the air for emphasis. "She escaped from our custody. If anything happens to him, it'll be on our hands. I don't care what we have to do, she's going down." Lisbon turned from the bullpen and headed to her office. She was quickly losing her patience again, and she knew the team could hear it in her voice. She needed to get away—a moment alone.

Just as she was about to walk into her office she heard Rigsby's voice, "Wasn't she in a good mood this morning?"

She stepped into her office, shut the door behind her, and took a deep breath. This morning felt like it had been weeks ago. She closed her eyes and counted to ten.

Jane wasn't all too comfortable being escorted to Mark Randle's offices by James, the very man he'd hypnotized not too long ago. He knew he could hypnotize him again if he needed to but it wouldn't be as easy as the last time he'd done it. He was surprised however to discover the location of the meeting. While Jane was positive that there were offices on the premises, he wasn't being taken to one. He was in a luxury hotel and was being taken to the restaurant on the top floor.

When the elevator opened he was greeted by an elegant but empty restaurant. Round tables were draped in black linen, with red runners, and each had three or more white candles. The walls were black with large red flowers painted on them, and on the other side of the room the windows reached from floor to ceiling, with a large open space leading to an outdoor patio with an amazing view of the city. A bar sat to the right by the wall, and was being manned by a tall male bartender. A large man with a bald head, and a shiny suit, that reminded Jane of the suits he used to wear when he was pretending to be a psychic, sat at the bar. He was going through paper work and drinking a glass of red wine.

James leaned toward Jane. "That's Mr. Randle. He doesn't like to be disturbed, so whatever it is you do, you have to do it quick." He gave Jane the letter. "Here."

Jane couldn't help but be amused by James' cowering. "He's just a man, a hardened criminal perhaps, but still a man."

James' head whipped toward Jane's. "Yeah, a man who's killed five men, and doesn't even have a parking ticket to show for his crimes."

"Five men, is that all?" Jane grabbed the letter from James' hand and stuck it in his suit coats' inside pocket. "I thought you were supposed to be tough," Jane chided with a look of disappointment as he walked toward the bar.

He sat two stools down from Mark Randle and got the attention of the bartender and ordered a Bloody Mary.

He could see that Mark had wanted to look over at him, see who was sitting next to him in an empty lounge, but he controlled his curiosity, and aside from raising his eyebrow briefly, he showed no other signs of curiosity. Jane waited wordlessly for his drink to come and started tapping the counter with two fingers. It was the hand closest to Mark, and he wanted him to hear the tapping loud and clear. When his drink came he bent down over his straw and began drinking it—loudly.

Mark sat up a little straighter after the first sip, obviously irritated, but he didn't look at Jane or say anything. Then Jane slurped again. Jane could see James fidgeting by the elevator, freaking out over the slurping, but he ignored him and slurped again. This time Mark did look over at him. He gave Jane an exasperated stare as Jane gulped loudly followed by a couple more slurps, then Mark went back to his paper work. Jane pulled the celery from his glass and took a bite from it very loudly.

"Do you mind?" Mark said looking at Jane again.

"Not at all," Jane said setting his celery stick down on his napkin before taking another loud sip.

Mark gave him a dirty look, and went back to his paper work. He was irritated, but being much more patient than Jane would have suspected a sociopath to be.

Jane sat his glass down and looked towards Mark. "Mark Randle?"

Mark turned to him again, this time eyeing him narrowly. "Who are you?"

Jane smiled. "My name's Patrick Jane. I'm with the CBI?"

"Is that supposed to matter to me?" he asked coolly.

Jane sat up a little taller. "No, I suppose not. What should matter to you, however, is that I was sent here by Stephen Sinclair."

Mark sat his pen down on his paper work and turned to Jane. "So you're a dirty cop then?"

Jane shook his head. "No, I'm just a consultant."

"Dirty cop, dirty consultant. It's all the same isn't it?"

Jane ignored him and pulled Stephen's letter from his coat pocket and slide it down to Mark. "Stephen wanted you to have this."

He watched Mark's shoulders tense as Stephen's letter stopped at Mark's pile of paper. "What's this?"

Jane turned to him, wanting to see his full reaction. "I don't know. I'm just the messenger." Jane tapped the counter again, this time with the fingers of his right hand.

Mark eyed the envelope nervously, like it was a cobra waiting to sink its teeth into him.

"You weren't expecting whatever is in that envelope to come so soon, were you?"

Mark's head whipped back to Jane. "You delivered the message you can go." His voice was fierce.

"Alright, alright. No need to get upset." Jane stood up from his chair, and turned to walk away, but then stopped abruptly and looked back at Mark Randle. "You're Stephen's greatest rival, aren't you?" Mark didn't answer, but Jane could see from his expression that he was. "No need to answer I already know that you are, but just curious… how long have you been planning on overthrowing him?"

Mark's face turned a nasty shade of red. "Get off of my property before I have you thrown out."

Jane took the cue, and quickly excused himself.

James saw the conversation coming to an end and had already gotten the elevator. "I told you he didn't like being disturbed; what were you thinking slurping like that?"

Jane ignored him. Sinclair was pulling him into the middle of a war and he wasn't happy about it. He could already guess what Sinclair really wanted him to do. He was beginning to doubt if this was worth the hassle, if Sinclair really had information for him.

When they walked out of the building Jane stopped and turned to James. "Get Sinclair on the phone, now." He could feel anger bubbling inside of him.

James stood up a little taller. Jane could see that he was amused that a man half a foot shorter than him would be bossing him around, but Jane held his gaze. Jane was angry, ready for answers and he wasn't going to put up with this walking Neanderthal. He saw James' face slowly drop, and the humor seep out the corners of his eyes.

"I was told to take you back to Mr. Sinclair."

Jane stepped toward him quickly and pointed a finger at him. James stepped back, before Jane started speaking. "I'm not going anywhere with you. Now, I know that Sinclair won't be happy if you return without the information he wants, and the only way he's gonna get it is if you call him. Right now!"

James looked down, then up at Jane again, then he pulled out his cell phone. "Fine." Jane waited for Sinclair to answer. "Boss, Mr. Jane wants to talk with you…" Jane motioned for the phone with his fingers, but James continued talking. "I know, but he's refusing to… okay." He reached the phone out and Jane took it.

"I want the information you owe me and I want it now," Jane said impatiently.

He heard a deep breath from Sinclair on the other end. "Mr. Jane, that's not how I work."

"It's how I work. I'm done playing games. You want to know what I know you'll tell me what information you have," Jane could feel his frustration building.

"You drive a hard bargain Mr. Jane." He went quiet for a moment making Jane twitch.

"Alright, you win, but I will tell you that this Red John character is not an easy man to track."

Jane could feel tension building. "But you did?"

"No. I haven't found him, if that's what you are asking. I doubt anyone could." The line went quiet on the other end for a moment. Jane held his breath. Sinclair continued. "Last week, I received a manila file with my name on a printed label on it and pictures of you inside, you and your Agent Lisbon."

Jane wasn't surprised that Sinclair knew about Lisbon. He was sure that he knew about the entire team by now. He was a well-informed man.

Sinclair continued listing who was in the pictures. "You coming out of my building with my men, and you and some P.I., I think he's name was…"

"Mike Phelps," Jane supplied.

"Yeah, that was it." Jane kept his eye on James' curious expression while Sinclair continued. "As well as pictures with other politically, and socially important people. Seems you've been making lots of friends, Mr. Jane."

Jane felt a sick pulse in his stomach, but held a calm expression. "Well, we all need friends."

"Whoever's been following you seems to be curious about your friends too. Anyway, one of the pictures had a post-it note with day and time on it," Sinclair continued. "Friday, 9:30pm, and a red smiley face. Does that mean anything to you?"

Jane's stomach did a complete flip. "What picture was the note on?" Jane asked almost unable to control the urgency in his tone, although he'd already guessed the answer.

Jane could hear him riffling through papers. "It's on a picture of you and Agent Lisbon. Care to tell me what this is about, Mr. Jane?"

Jane wanted to get off the phone. "Mark Randle will go along with your schemes for now, but he's patient, a hard worker and he wants you to go down. Eventually he will stab you in the back."

"Are you sure…" Jane heard Sinclair ask as he handed the phone back to James, and walked away. Things were getting more and more complicated.

A/N: Thanks for sticking in there with me. I have things coming that I think are exciting.