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I own a very faithful dog who is tired of me sitting here writing, but I do not own The Mentalist. No copyright infringement is intended. Thanks, Mr. Heller, et al.

AN: Apologies that I became one of those people who went too long between updates, but life happened, and I had a sticky plot point that I finally resolved. In my defense, this is a long chapter. Lots of plot, not too much funny business, but I hope you are entertained. Thanks for reading, especially to those who left reviews. You are like dark chocolate.

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On her way up the stairs in search of Chief Larson, Lisbon noted with displeasure that TV news vans were already parked in the lot. Inevitable, of course. The murders would have to be reported. But there was no reason they needed to know about the little girl, or that she was a potential witness. Lisbon resolved that she needed to make her protection a priority.

She found Larson on the landing outside the crime scene condo, talking on the phone. "Yeah, Fred, I think we should go ahead and let nonessential employees leave the island, if they want to." He looked out at the indigo clouds swirling over the ocean. "Yeah, it does. Talk to you later," he finished and turned to face her.

"Chief, we were able to get a few more details from Ellie. I think we should keep her out of the press entirely if possible, for her safety. She thinks she can identify the shooter's voice. I'd like to get her out of here without being photographed, too."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." The chief pretended he'd thought of that, but she could see he hadn't. "But that's not gonna be easy. Those people are sharks."

Lisbon nodded. That they could agree on. She was about to share the new information, when her phone buzzed. It was Abbott - he and the team were ten minutes from the island, and the New Orleans team wasn't far behind. She realized they all needed to get on the same page, and it would be far more efficient for her to brief them all at once.

"Hang on just a moment, sir," she said to Abbott, and turned to the local boss. "Do you have any room in your station that we could use to coordinate all of this?"

Larson nodded. "Sure. We've got a big conference room you can use, and a couple other rooms, too. It's kinda hectic with the storm coming, but if you need them…"

"Understood. Thank you," she replied putting her phone back to her ear. "Sir, Chief Larson with the Galveston force says we can coordinate out of his station. I suggest we all meet there at the top of the hour and get everyone concerned up to speed."

Abbott concurred, and she punched out of the call. "Chief, I'll give a brief statement to the press, and then let's get on over to meet the other teams. Please make sure your people know not to mention the girl to anyone," she added.

"How are we going to get her out of here?" he pondered.

"I think I know someone who can manage that," she explained. "Can I ride with you over to the station? I'll fill you in on the way."

"Alrighty," he shrugged. The testimonial Jane gave to Larson earlier may actually have done a little good. He didn't seem quite as annoyed with her as he had initially.

"So," she smiled. "Let's go feed the sharks."

Out in the parking lot, Lisbon gave a brief statement to the waiting journalists. She acknowledged the murders, including that one victim was an FBI agent, but she didn't mention the daughter at all. She finished her sparse blurb with, "We hope to know more soon, and we will be coordinating with the Galveston police force. We'd also like to commend Chief Larson and his squad for their quick response. That's all for now." In her experience, nothing smoothed ruffled feathers and facilitated cooperation with the locals like a compliment in the media.

The hungry journalists shouted more questions and pushed microphones in their faces, but she and Larson managed to escape in his cruiser. Glancing in the side mirror, Lisbon noted with satisfaction that the vans were pulling out of the parking lot. She spent a few moments telling Larson about Ellie's details, and then she made another call.

"Hey," came Jane's familiar greeting.

"How's she doing?"

"Pretty well, considering. I'll have you know that this young lady is an excellent poker player, Teresa." Lisbon could hear the smile in his voice, filled with genuine admiration. No doubt the child was sitting there, right beside him.

"Great. I'm on the way to meet the other teams at the Galveston police station. We need to get Ellie out of your current location and down to the station without the press knowing who she is. I don't want the killer knowing about her at all."

"Excellent idea."

"I gave the press a statement and most of them are leaving the condo lot, but I'm sure there are still a few nosing around."

"I can take care of this. I'll get the officer here to dig up a boogie board or a pool float, and I will be just another parent dragging his kid off the island. Ellie is a remarkable girl, Lisbon. I'm sure she will relish playing the part."

Lisbon smiled at the thought of "dad" Jane waltzing right by the unsuspecting press. "Perfect. See you at the station."

Within the hour, her Austin team, the New Orleans team, and the local brass were all crowded into a conference room at the Galveston Police Station. It was a generic space, with bland Formica tables and too few grey fabric chairs, but it would serve the purpose. As the agents settled into the available chairs, Lisbon introduced herself to Gary Scott, the New Orleans supervisor. An eagle eyed man with thinning salt and pepper hair, she pegged him as a straight shooter, obviously distraught at losing one of his men, and she liked him immediately.

The flow of people into the room ceased, and Scott nodded to one of his agents, who promptly closed the door to the hall. When he moved to the front of the room, the talking ceased abruptly. "For those of you who don't know…" he began, but was immediately interrupted by the click of the door reopening.

Patrick Jane poked his torso into the room, in his distinctive comic fashion. When he recognized the Austin team, assuring himself he was in the right place, he ambled in, unfazed by the dirty looks he was receiving. He pushed his way between standing agents until he was situated directly behind Lisbon's chair. Then he dipped his head to Agent Scott, as if giving him permission to continue.

Rather than react in anger, Scott raised an eyebrow, amused. "You must be Mr. Jane."

"One in the same."

"Your reputation precedes you."

Jane simply shrugged and gave the New Orleans chief a sideways smile.

The big man turned his attention back to the group. "I'm Supervisory Agent Gary Scott, New Orleans FBI Division. I'll be heading up this investigation. I'd like to thank Chief Lawson of the Galveston Police for his department's work on this case and for allowing us to coordinate from here at his station. Agent Lisbon from the Austin FBI office happened to be staying here in Galveston, so she and Mr. Jane were on the scene twenty minutes after the local force. She's going to brief us on where we stand so far."

Lisbon pushed her left hand into her jacket pocket and rose to address the group. She wasn't exactly sure why, but she didn't want people to notice her ring just yet. Maybe she felt it would distract her team in some way, or diminish others' perception of her, even if that wasn't logical. Or maybe she just wanted to keep their engagement personal, between the two of them, for another day or two.

Hand hidden, she filled the group in on the case, emphasizing the important points.

"Here's what we have so far: New Orleans FBI Agent Randy Caswell and his wife Monique, who worked as a fashion purchaser for a New Orleans department store chain, were having a three day weekend in Galveston with newly adopted nine year old Ellie, the daughter of Randy's late sister.

Caswell's sister was a Kentucky cop. She and her husband were killed in a car accident three months ago, orphaning the little girl. He was the only living relative, so the child came to live with him and his wife about a month ago.

At approximately 5 am this morning, Caswell and his wife were shot while sleeping by an intruder into their timeshare condo, located here on the Galveston beach.

The little girl, who awoke in the other bedroom at the noise, was unharmed and quite possibly unnoticed. She heard a male voice say 'This one is for Feebie' between suppressed gunshots.

Ellie hid and made the 911 call, but when she heard the intruder leave, she looked out the window and saw a dark haired person in a dark hoodie go down the stairs outside the condo and get into a dark sedan before driving off to the east."

Jane raised his hand.

"Yes, Jane." She glared at him. This had better be important.

"I talked more with Ellie and she was able to recall the emblem on the car. A longhorn." Jane traced a vertically oriented ellipse in the air and gave it horns. "I'm 95% sure it was a Toyota sedan. Probably black."

"That'll narrow it down some." She nodded to Wylie, who was already typing on his laptop. "Did you get her out unnoticed?"

"Yes. Nobody paid any attention to us leaving. She's down the hall in the break room, watching a movie."

"Great, thanks." Lisbon returned to her presentation. "Chief Larson immediately set up roadblocks on the two roads off the island, but it's possible the perp could have escaped by boat. They're canvassing the island for dark sedans, but now maybe we can narrow that down a bit."

The important points covered, Lisbon finished with, "That's where we are right now, unless Chief Larson has something to add."

Larson shook his head. "The road blocks haven't turned up anyone suspicious yet. We could use more manpower. We're spread thin with this storm coming, and roadblocks are going to be a problem with so many people leaving."

"What's the current forecast?" Scott asked Larson.

"Right now they think the storm will make landfall as a Cat One, seventy five miles to our east, late tomorrow afternoon. That could change, of course, but right now we're expecting mostly flooding with the rain and storm surge, and 65 mph winds here on the island."

Scott nodded his understanding, and took the floor again. "Thank you Agent Lisbon, and to you Chief Larson, for getting this investigation off to a quick start."

Lisbon moved back to her seat as he took over the meeting. Jane's hands still gripped the back of her chair, and she leaned back until her shoulder blades touched his fingers. She let out a small sigh. Funny how comfort could come from a touch so small, she mused, as she turned her attention to Scott's presentation.

"Randy Caswell had been looking into a high volume munitions smuggling ring in New Orleans for about six months. Recently he got a couple of breaks that put him very near to uncovering identities in the top echelon of the ring. Our first thought is that someone in that organization made him, found out he was coming here, and executed him.

Randy had been happily married to Monique – a very sweet, career oriented woman – for fifteen years. They had no children by choice, until the recent adoption of the Ellie, after his sister's death. She had only been with them for a month, and frankly, it was a big adjustment for all of them. He'd confided in me that things weren't going all that well just yet.

So," he shrugged, "when one of Monique's coworkers offered them this timeshare for the weekend at the last minute, he approached me for a long weekend off. He said he thought it might help for them to get away someplace fun together. I agreed, of course.

And now this." He shook his head sadly. "I have numerous people leaning on our CI's in New Orleans, sniffing around to see if a hit was put out on Caswell. Not too many people knew he was leaving town, but there's always the cat sitter and people like that. They took the girl out of school on Friday so that's a possible leak. We're working every angle, running down every possibility we can think of. Hell, they may have had a man watching his house, who knows? Thoughts?"

"The other passengers on the flight the Caswells took from New Orleans are being checked out?" Cho asked.

"Yes, we have a man looking into them. Nothing has popped so far."

"He was shot in the face and the genitals," Jane piped up. "That's personal."

"Yes, and that is odd. Maybe the crime boss had some point to make?" Scott offered.

Jane pressed further. "Meh. I'm not a big fan of the whole 'hit' theory."

Scott frowned in irritation. "Do you have a better idea?"

"It's just…why take out both the man and his wife? Doesn't make sense."

"He didn't want a witness."

"They were asleep. If the crime boss wanted an agent dead, why kill the wife? And if they really wanted to hurt Caswell, they wouldn't hurt him, they'd hurt his family, and let him live."

Lisbon tensed at his words, but Jane continued without flinching. "Why kill them both? Why ignore the child? Something is fishy, so to speak," Jane added, amusing himself with his ocean reference.

"Didn't the child say the killer mentioned a Feebie?" one of the New Orleans agents asked.

"Yes, she did," Jane replied, "but somehow all this just doesn't add up to a mob hit."

Scott rocked back on his heels. "Say you're right and this isn't a hit? What's the motive, otherwise? It's not a random killing."

Jane spoke again. "Was Caswell having an affair?"

Lisbon felt every agent from New Orleans bristle at his question, but Scott kept his answer even. "Very, very unlikely. Randy was a good friend. I'm sure I'd know. He adored Monique and she adored him.

There had been some tension, as I mentioned, because of Ellie. They had been pretty adamant about not wanting children before. But what was he gonna do – his niece had nobody else. It was a big adjustment, but he was optimistic they could work it out, with some time and effort."

Jane didn't drop the subject. "Was Monique having an affair, then?"

"I doubt..." Scott replied in reflex but then stopped, realizing he hadn't seriously considered that angle. He was silent for a moment and then addressed one of his agents. "Brennan, when this meeting is over, would you look into that possibility?"

"On it, sir."

"How's the kid doing, Jane?"

"She's shaken, but she's also quite intelligent – gifted I'd guess. And she is tough. She seems confident that she would recognize the shooter's voice."

"Poor kid," Scott said with genuine sympathy. "Speaking of which, we need to get her out of here until we need her. Cleary? " Scott addressed one of his junior agents. "Did you scare us up some rooms?"

"Yes sir, only a few blocks away. All the tourists are leaving so the hotel gave us great rates. Lots of suites."

"Well done. Supervisory Agent Abbott?"

"Yes?" Abbott replied from his chair near the front.

"With your permission, I'd like to put Agent Lisbon in charge of the child. The girl needs all the stability she can get right now, and Lisbon has already developed a rapport with her."

Abbott looked at Lisbon with a questioning look, and she shrugged, nodding affirmatively.

"Very well."

"Good. Lisbon, after this meeting adjourns, take her to the hotel and get her situated."

Lisbon was both relieved at the thought of a little down time, and annoyed that she'd gone from Agent In Charge to babysitter in a few short minutes. As the meeting wore on and the fatigue from their early awakening began to catch up with her, however, babysitting sounded better and better.

Jane's hands were still on the back of her chair and, imperceptible to those around them, his thumbs began to knead the muscles between her shoulder blades. Those hands, she thought, were very talented. She'd found that out yesterday. Stop it, she thought, jerking her thoughts back to the matter at hand. So to speak.

When the meeting concluded, she and Jane gathered Ellie and headed out to the Prius, which was parked in the indoor police garage. No danger of her being observed in this place, Lisbon was satisfied. When they got to the car, Jane opened the back door and began pushing numerous packages to one side in the back seat so that Ellie would have a place to sit.

"What's all this, Jane? Our bags are still back at the other hotel."

"Ellie was concerned about the storm coming, so we stopped on the way over here and picked up a few supplies."

"We don't…" she started, and then caught herself. Jane was great with kids. Enlisting Ellie's help to prepare for a possible storm no doubt gave her a much needed sense of control. The man was a genius, but she wasn't going to acknowledge that to him at the moment. Instead, she smiled and said, "Nice job, Ellie, thank you."

When they reached the hotel, Lisbon checked into an available suite with two doubles in the bedroom and a separate sitting room with a couch. Jane was able to get a room next door that adjoined the sitting room. Perfect, really. If she was going to be babysitting, she would be able to do so in comfort, and she and Jane could discusses the case while the child slept.

Jane carried in all the emergency supplies, and then left for their original hotel to pick up their bags. Ellie wanted to finish the movie she was watching at the police station, so Lisbon surrendered to fatigue and sat down beside her on the couch. When the otherwise stoic child leaned against her, she smiled and put her arm around her, letting her know she was safe. It was a warm feeling, having a little person trust you so implicitly. Especially this little person. Jane was right, she was a remarkable girl.

Lisbon awoke with a start, aware of the vibrating phone in her pocket. She carefully untangled herself from the sleeping Ellie, noting that someone had put a blanket over the both of them. Jane, no doubt. The girl stirred but didn't wake, and Lisbon read the text from Fischer.

Briefing 5:30 pm – Galveston station conference room. Bring the girl on over now please. We have some suspects for her to listen to.

Lisbon noted the current time as ten after four just as Jane emerged from the bathroom, holding his phone. In the chair beside the couch was an open book upside down in the seat. He had been watching over them, reading.

"Ah, Lisbon, you're up."

"Yeah, I got a text, too."

Together they looked at the sleeping girl, both hesitant to wake her.

"She likes you, Teresa. You remind her of her mother. Not so much physically, I don't think, but your 'copness.' And your kindness."

She blushed a little. "Jane."

"She didn't really like Monique," he continued. "Too girly. Too frilly. And she felt that Monique resented her. She may have been right, given what Scott said in the briefing."

"And what does she think about you?" Lisbon retorted.

"She thinks I'm a good man, like her father. And I haven't had the heart to tell her otherwise."

"Jane," she repeated with an entirely different tone. It hurt her when he said things like this. She was about to give him a stern talking-to when Ellie began to stir, and they were forced to abandon their conversation. Lisbon stroked the girl's arm gently until she was fully awake. "Ellie, we need to go back to the police station."

"Okay," the child said, rubbing her eyes. "Have they caught somebody?"

"Maybe," Lisbon explained, and they were on their way.

Five suspects had been gathered for Ellie to evaluate. All were males with dark Toyota sedans, had no alibi for the time of the murders, and had some reason for suspicion – a criminal record, ties to New Orleans, etc. From a safe spot behind the two way glass, the girl carefully and confidently ruled them all out. Jane and Lisbon left Ellie in the station break room with a Galveston officer and joined the others in the conference room for the meeting.

Scott was already in the front of the room, but before he began the briefing, he looked at Lisbon and asked, "Any luck?"

"No, sir. Ellie is sure none of those voices was the one she heard."

"Damn. Well, we'll just have to dig deeper. Look," he announced in a louder voice, bringing the briefing to order with a word. "I know everyone is tired but I'd like to keep working until about ten tonight. Randy was one of ours, and the longer this goes, the less likely we are to apprehend the perp before he gets off this island. If he hasn't already…"

Just then a loud knock interrupted. An agent opened the door to reveal a deliveryman with a huge stack of pizzas, and appreciative murmurs travelled around the room. The agent relived the man of his boxes.

"Go ahead and pass it around while we talk," Scott suggested, aware that the aroma of pizza would be infinitely distracting to his hungry colleagues.

"What about bill?" one of the local deputies asked.

"Oh, don't worry, the FBI's got this," Scott assured him.

"No," the man smiled. "I mean Bill. The hurricane. They've named it Bill."

Chuckles abounded.

Wylie stood. "If I may, sir," he asked Scott.

"By all means."

"Hurricane Bill is currently about eighteen hours from landfall, measuring on the upper end of class one category winds. Expected landfall of the eye of the system has been revised closer to Galveston, with a current prediction about forty miles east of here."

"Thank you. Agent Wylie, is it?" Scott added.

"Yes, sir. You're welcome," Wylie smiled, and stood for an additional awkward moment before taking his seat.

Lisbon gathered a couple of pieces of pizza onto a paper plate and whispered to Jane, "I'm going to take these over to Ellie." She was about to get up, when she noted the look on his face. She knew that look. "What?"

Jane addressed Scott. "You said Agent Caswell acquired the condo at the last minute from his wife's friend? Who was originally scheduled to be in the condo this weekend?"

Scott tilted his head, no doubt wondering why that might be relevant. "Surely you don't think that the killer was targeting someone else. He even mentioned the FBI," the agent pointed out.

"Bear with me here. If I'm wrong, it will be easy enough to disprove."

Scott shrugged. "Okay. Barnes, get someone back home to check that out. Catch up with Monique's colleague."

"Yes, sir."

Lisbon ran the pizza over to a very grateful Ellie, and returned to the meeting. In the end, there were a lot of people checking on a lot of things, but so far they had nada. As the group was dismissed, Abbott asked his team members to stay. When all of the other personnel had exited the room, Abbott closed the door. "First, I'd like to thank you all for your excellent work so far in this case. We're showing 'em how it's done.

Secondly, I want to take a moment to congratulate Jane and Lisbon." He shot a knowing glance their way. "I do have that right, don't I?" Fischer was sporting a sly grin – she'd already noticed. Wylie had a quizzical look on his face, and Cho frowned, asking, "What?"

Lisbon felt the color rise in her face and she ducked her head, stealing a look at Jane. He was beaming.

Abbott looked at Cho in disbelief. "Cho, unless I am badly mistaken, Teresa and Patrick are engaged to be married."

Wylie's confusion melted into a smug smile. "Ha. I told that guy in the Art Department I thought you all were a couple."

Cho's mouth fell open, struck speechless, and he stared at Jane and Lisbon as if they were people he'd never met. Fischer sidled over to Lisbon. "C'mon, let's see it. "

Lisbon, beet red by now, extended her left hand onto the table in front of her.

"Nice, Patrick," Fischer said, raising an eyebrow. "It's beautiful. Unique."

"Well done," Abbott agreed, as he poked Jane in the arm with his elbow. Then he proceeded to stun them all by breaking into a rendition of Beyonce, complete with a little dirty dancing, "Finally put a ring…on it." He stopped, a little winded, and finished with, "About time, my man, about time."

The entire team broke into laughter, except for Cho, who still couldn't seem to process what had happened.

"Oooh, Papa Dennis, showin' off some moves…" Jane said playfully, drawing out the word 'moves' as he slid his hand parallel to the ground, Fonz-like.

Lisbon grinned broadly, raising an eyebrow at Abbott's antics. Well, she thought, it's certainly out there now. And it was okay. Except, maybe for Cho.

"Back to the matter at hand," Abbott reverted quickly to his serious, no nonsense persona. "I've arranged for one of Larson's men to be stationed outside your room tonight from ten 'til six, Teresa. There's no indication that the girl is known to the killer, but you need to get a decent night's sleep, and this will ensure that you – and the child – do just that.

She started to protest, but quickly reconsidered. She decided she should welcome the additional protection. She wouldn't sleep, knowing she was responsible for the safety of the girl with the killer still out there without a sentry. "Thank you, sir," she said to Abbott. "I could use some sleep."

She and Jane took Ellie back to the hotel about eight thirty, after she had listened to one more possible suspect's voice – to no avail. The girl was sure his wasn't the voice she heard either.

Jane picked up some cartons of milk at a Quick Stop and soon the three of them were sprawled on the sofa in Lisbon's room, feasting on Nutter Butters and milk.

"I'm not sleepy yet," Ellie announced. She had taken a longish nap in the afternoon, Lisbon recalled, which made her statement plausible. "Would it be okay if we played a game?" the child asked.

"I'm sorry, honey, we don't have any…"

"Yes, we do! Mr. Jane and I bought a few just in case the electricity went out." She began rummaging through the packages that Jane had dropped behind the couch. "Here it is!"

And that was how she and Jane and Ellie became absorbed in a ruthless game of Sorry. After being soundly beaten, Lisbon excused herself to take a shower, and when she reemerged, Jane was teaching the girl card tricks. Lisbon watched for a few moments, and realized that Ellie was good. Very good.

"Ellie, have you ever done card tricks before?" she asked.

"Yeah, my dad was a teacher, but he did magic as a hobby. He performed for kids' birthday parties and stuff. He taught me a few things."

"I'll say, Lisbon. The kid's a natural. Show her the Circus Card," Jane encouraged the child.

"You think I should?" Ellie grinned at Jane. God, this kid is adorable, Lisbon thought.

"Certainly. You'll do fine."

Ellie showed Lisbon the deck. "Take a card. Any card." She chose one, and the child put it on the top of the deck. Then she appeared to shuffle the cards, and turned several cards from the deck face up onto the coffee table. Lisbon noted her card, the nine of spades, was among those on the table. "The next card I turn over will be yours," Ellie announced.

Lisbon frowned. She didn't want to disappoint the girl and tell her she'd already turned up the card. But the joke was on her. Ellie reached down and turned the exposed nine of spades face down, correctly "guessing" her card.

"Wow," Lisbon said, truly impressed. She hadn't noted how the trick was accomplished at all.

"See, Lisbon? See?" Jane bragged, pointing at Ellie.

The little girl was beaming from ear to ear.

"Well done, Ellie, and now I think it's time for you to turn in." The child began to fidget. She must be nervous about going to sleep because of last night, Lisbon figured, and she didn't want her to be scared tonight. "I'll draw you a bath and get you tucked in, okay? I'll be in later, sleeping in the other bed, right beside you. Mr. Jane will be next door, and there will be a Galveston policeman outside. Nobody will bother us tonight," she explained to the girl.

Ellie seemed reassured, and after her bath, Lisbon tucked the child into bed, and she fell asleep immediately. Teresa tiptoed out of the bedroom into the living area, where she found Jane sitting on the couch.

"Hey," he said, looking up from his book. He placed it on the coffee table and patted the couch beside him. "Join me?"

She was suddenly exhausted, and sank down next to him in relief. He put an arm around her shoulder and she sagged against him, closing her eyes.

"It's been a long day, m'dear," he acknowledged, kneading her upper arm with his hand.

She sighed heavily and snuggled further into his side. "Yes, it has. Yesterday seems like it was days ago."

"Mmmm," he purred, placing a soft kiss into her hair. "Guess we'll have to put the funny business on hold for a bit."

She snorted softly. "Yeah. That's a damn shame, too," she added with a saucy grin.

"Indeed," he agreed. "The team took it well, I thought," he mused.

"Except for Cho. I bet his mouth is still open," she said, and they both laughed.

Just then a knock came at the door. She glanced at the time – it was ten o'clock. She rose and peeped through the door to see a uniformed cop, so she opened the door.

"I'm Officer Wilson, ma'am. I'll be right out here until six am. Don't you worry."

"Thank you, Wilson," she said, closing the door solidly. This was one of those fancy schmancy electronic entries with no deadbolt, which annoyed her. She preferred things simple, but there was nothing to be done, and she did have an armed guard out there.

Jane was on his feet now. He walked over to stand close behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, clasping his hands in front of her, pulling her body close to his. He dipped his head to plant a whispery kiss on the back of her neck. Despite her fatigue, it made her tingle.

"You need to go to bed, Teresa. Tomorrow might be a long day."

She turned around and planted a real kiss on him, much to his obvious satisfaction, and then said, "Yeah, you're right." Reluctantly she broke their embrace and headed for her bedroom.

"Good night, Teresa. I love you," he called after her.

That declaration never failed to warm her weary soul. She wanted to hear that every night for the rest of her life. "Love you, too."

She placed her handgun on the nightstand, away from the child's bed, and crawled under the covers. She was asleep the instant her head hit the pillow.

Lisbon awoke with a start. A noise had disturbed her, but in her haze she wasn't awake enough to know what it was. She heard more muffled sounds, and then she heard Jane's distressed voice from the living room. "Teresa! Gun!"

She leapt out of bed and grabbed her Glock in one fluid motion, moving to the bedroom door. A quick glance back at Ellie let her know the child had not stirred. She cracked open the door and heard a thud, and then heard Jane cry out in pain.

Lisbon yanked open the door, gun trained into the dark living room, in time to see a form disappear out the door into the light of the corridor. Jane was lying face down on the floor by the couch, unmoving, and she went to him, reaching down to make sure he had a pulse. Relieved to find it strong, she moved over to the main door and brandished her weapon through the opening, first left, then right.

The intruder was gone, but she saw Officer Wilson lying over near the stairwell and he didn't look good. She stepped back into the room, flipping on the light. Jane was beginning to stir, and she slipped his cell phone from his jacket pocket and called 911.

"This is Agent Lisbon of the FBI requesting immediate backup at the Starfish Inn, 3rd floor, room 317. I have two officers down. I repeat, two officers down!"

"Agent Lisbon, is everything okay?" came Ellie's question from the bedroom.

"You're safe, Ellie, but please stay in the bedroom for now. The bad guy is gone and the police are on the way." The child did as she requested. Lisbon kept her pistol trained on the door, but she stole a glance down at Jane, noting blood in his hair. He groaned and shifted, reaching his left hand to his injured head.

"Stay still, Jane, the EMT's are on the way," she insisted.

Ignoring her words, he managed to roll himself over with a pained grunt. He squinted upward at her. "Lisbon, you okay? Ellie?"

"We're both fine, Jane. I think Wilson is dead, though. Did you see him?"

"No," Jane managed, coughing painfully. "It was dark."

"Damn."

"Got something, though."

"Huh?"

With major effort, he lifted his right arm upward, showing her what was gripped between his fingers. Hair. Jane had some strands of hair from the guy's head in his hand. DNA.

"Oh Patrick Jane. I love you."

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To be continued…hope you enjoyed this chapter.