Author's Note: As promised, I did more writing than eating over the Thanksgiving break. Thanks for all your encouragement! Things are moving quickly now, so hopefully the next chapter will come easily.


Chapter 29

Patrick finished cleaning up the kitchen, then brewed himself a cup of tea. It would be at least ten minutes before he could reasonably worry about Teresa and Liam, he calculated. They wouldn't be out long, knowing he would be anxious.

He sat down at the table to sip and review the case files Cho had sent to the random email account Grace had set up for him. Vega and Wylie were landing in DC soon, since Cho was concerned this was bigger than what they'd found in California, which wasn't much. Whoever was behind this had covered their tracks well.

They were now focusing on finding Alexa Schultz, the only one of Red John's inner circle unaccounted for. It seemed logical, but it didn't feel right to Patrick. Yes, the woman had been a sociopath in her own right and as fond of Haffner as anyone that self-focused could be, but Teresa was right: she'd gotten off easy and made a new life for herself. Why risk that now? Unless they could turn up some event in her life to indicate motive, Patrick would stay open to other suspects.

He was deep in trying to glean clues from a ten-year-old video interview of Alexa Schultz, whose book appeared to have been salacious at best, when Victoria called, "Hey Dad, answer your phone!"

He blinked, pausing the video and picking up his cell phone as Victoria came to stand beside him. The number wasn't in his contacts list, but he answered it anyway. "Hello?"

"Hi," a young woman's voice said. "Are you missing your dog?"

A chill ran down his spine. "My wife and son are walking her. Did she get loose?" That would be very unlike Belle, but better than any of the other theories his brain was concocting. Far better.

"I don't think so. She's been hurt. There's a woman unconscious here too. I called 911 for her, but your dog needs a vet."

"My son should be there too." Patrick got to his feet and stumbled toward the coat rack, groping for his jacket.

"I don't see him. We're on the north side of the dog park, in an alley."

"Listen to me," Patrick said as Victoria tried to help him with his coat one-handed. "That woman is FBI Agent Teresa Lisbon. You're standing in a crime scene. Tell the police that. I'm on my way."

"Uh, okay, but—"

Patrick disconnected the call and flung the door open, Victoria on his heels. Fortunately the elevator came right away, and soon they were outside, heading for the dog park. He hadn't stopped to get his crutches, but he ran as best he could, gritting his teeth against the pain. Victoria was faster, but she was careful not to get more than a few steps ahead of him. She hadn't put her coat on, he noticed; she needed his help with her broken arm. He'd make sure to do that as soon as he was sure Teresa was all right and the search for Liam was underway.

A siren approached, then cut off as the flashing red and white lights became visible across the dog park. Victoria dropped her coat so she could use her good hand to open the park gate, then sprinted across the grass. Patrick paused to retrieve the coat and followed as fast as he could.

"Mom! Liam!" Victoria shouted, her voice high and thin with fear. She didn't stop to open the other gate, using her good arm to swing herself over the fence in a maneuver he hadn't seen since she was 10.

Patrick had to stop to open the gate, leaning heavily on it for a second to catch his breath. By the time he reached the alley, Victoria was kneeling on the pavement over a whining Belle and demanding answers from the paramedics examining Teresa a few feet away.

The sight of his wife lying still on the ground hit him like a punch to the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He leaned down with his hands on his knees and gasped for air as the paramedics transferred Teresa to a gurney and raised it.

"Dad?" Victoria said.

He straightened, trying not to wheeze, and limped over to Teresa. "I'm her husband," he told the paramedics. "Is she hurt?"

"No visible injuries," one replied. "But we can't rouse her."

Patrick moved a strand of hair from her cheek, then stroked her soft skin, pausing at her neck to feel her strong pulse. Then he bent to feel her breath against his cheek, needing to know firsthand that she was alive and well.

His nose wrinkled at a strong chemical smell, and he straightened. "She smells funny. She didn't smell like that when she left."

The paramedic closest to him bent to sniff for himself. "Chloroform, or something like it. That explains why she won't wake."

Patrick looked over his shoulder at his daughter and whimpering dog—and the space where his son should be. "How long will she be out?"

"Hard to tell. Depends on how much she inhaled."

She would have tried to minimize it, he knew. In fact, he wondered how she'd been ambushed at all—her clothes weren't rumpled as if she'd been in a fight. Someone had been clever.

"Dad," Victoria said, pulling him back to the present. "I think Belle's ribs are hurt. Like someone kicked her." Outage overtook distress in her voice at the end.

"She was trying to crawl over to your wife," the young woman standing nearby said.

"You're the one who called? Thank you," Patrick said, focusing on her.

"Yes, I'm Stacey. And this is Clive." She nodded to the beagle sitting beside her.

"Do you know a vet nearby? We just moved here."

Stacey nodded. "My vet's two blocks over. I can call and tell them it's an emergency."

"I'd really appreciate it," Patrick said, kneeling to rub Belle's ears, then drape Victoria's coat over her shoulders. "Did you see anyone?"

"I saw your son, I think, playing with this dog," Stacey replied. "Your wife was just leaving the park, heading this way. I think she was following somebody, because I heard her yell something. Your son heard and ran off toward her. I didn't see anything else though, because of the trees."

Another siren sounded, and Patrick turned to see a police car stop just behind the ambulance. "Tell the police that, please, and then can you take Belle to your vet? I'll give you my credit card. Get her anything she needs."

"Can I go with her, Dad?" Victoria asked anxiously.

He shook his head. "You stay with me until your mother wakes up."

"Can I do something? Call someone?" she suggested.

"See if you can reach Cho or Stan." He was needed in too many places: by Teresa's side, taking care of Belle, looking for Liam, and keeping Victoria safe. He needed help.

It was too bad all his help was on the other side of the country.

"What happened here?" A tall, dark skinned policeman approached them as Victoria pulled out her phone with shaking fingers.

Patrick spoke before anyone else could. "FBI Special Agent Teresa Lisbon was lured into this alley and attacked. Our son was with her and is missing. We need to get an Amber Alert out right now. There is at least one witness." He gestured to Stacey. "You need to interview her first so she can get treatment for our dog, who was hurt in the attack."

"And you are?"

"Patrick Jane. I was a consultant for the FBI before I retired. You can check my wife's badge if you need to verify her identity." Patrick pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his photos.

"Do you have a recent photo of your son?"

"Right here." He found a good likeness and set his phone to transmit, tapping it against the cop's device. "Officer—"

"Temple. How old is he?"

"Seventeen." Patrick swallowed hard to keep his voice steady. "About six feet tall. His name is Liam Jane. Last seen wearing a blue windbreaker over blue jeans and a dark green T-shirt."

Victoria added, "And black sneakers. Dad, is that his phone over there by the wall?"

Patrick's heart sank as he turned to look, though he knew Liam's kidnapper wouldn't be stupid enough to let him keep his phone. "I think so. Officer Temple, my dog is suffering. Can you interview the witness later?"

Stacey stepped forward and handed the officer a business card. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Is that okay? Do you have anything flat I can put her on? If she's got a broken rib I don't want to jostle her."

Victoria sucked in a watery breath. One of the paramedics said, "I've got something, if you'll bring it right back. Agent Lisbon is stable, so we don't have to transport her right away."

Patrick was thankful to be among dog lovers. He dug out his credit card and handed it to Stacey. "I'm indebted to you, Ms.—"

"Sollinger." She handed him a business card too. "Here. But I'll be back as soon as I can. I just need to call my boss and tell him I won't be back from lunch on time."

"I'll compensate you for your trouble."

"Oh, no need. I just hope you find your son."

Patrick felt a twinge of doubt as the paramedic gently lifted Belle onto a backboard, then picked her up. Stacey might hold a key to Liam's whereabouts, but Belle was whimpering and Victoria had tears streaming down her face. Patrick needed to calm down before he could help Stacey remember, and that wasn't going to happen until Belle got treatment. "Thank you."

"I'll be quick." She gave Victoria a sympathetic look and hurried off with Belle, her beagle trotting alongside her.

Victoria closed her eyes, no doubt praying. Patrick briefly wished he could find comfort in a similar ritual, but he'd closed that door long ago.

Officer Temple said, "Okay, the alert's out. Anybody you suspect may have taken him?"

"My wife's team is on an active case. We've had threats and a few incidents—that's why we're here instead of California. You'll need to liaise with Assistant Director Abbott for details. Ms. Sollinger told me my wife followed someone into the alley and my son followed her, but she didn't see the suspect."

Patrick's phone rang, and his heart rate accelerated as he reached for it. It was a local DC number not in his contact list. "Hello?"

"Mr. Jane?" a woman's voice said.

"This is Patrick Jane," he replied, his free hand fisting with the effort to sound normal.

"This is Leila Hejazi. Kimball's friend? I just saw the Amber Alert for Liam—what can I do to help?"

Relief washed over him—help was at hand. "Can you come be with Victoria? Teresa's unconscious."

"Of course. Are you still at the 'last seen' address?"

"Yes."

"I'm downtown, but I should be there in fifteen minutes, ten if I run the lights."

"Run the lights," he said, then disconnected. "Victoria, did you reach anybody?"

"No. I left messages." She wiped at her eyes. "Who was that?"

"Leila, Cho's girlfriend. She's on her way. You met her at the game, remember?"

She nodded.

Patrick stared at his phone for a moment, then dialed a number from memory. He wanted to slap himself for not remembering earlier that another source of help was close at hand. When Nelson picked up, Patrick said, "This is Patrick Jane. My son's been kidnapped from an alley north of the dog park."

"I'll pull footage—I know the cameras in that area. I'll call you when I have something." Nelson disconnected.

Pulling footage reminded him of Grace. Moore and Cho might be in a meeting or interrogation, but Grace might not be. He called her next, sliding an arm around Victoria as she came to stand beside him.

"Hey, Jane," she answered. "Everything okay?"

"No." He repeated the situation report for her.

"Oh my God. I'll jump on the cameras. And Emily Mitchell entered the country at Dulles last night—I just texted Lisbon. Have you called Abbott? I can do that for you. Let me check Wylie and Vega's itinerary—yeah, they're landing in half an hour at Reagan. I'll tell them to come straight to you. Is Victoria okay?"

"We're hanging in there," Patrick replied, grateful that Grace's alarm translated itself into action so readily. "Cho's girlfriend is coming to help."

"Good. I'll send the FBI your way and let you know if I find anything. And tell Lisbon I'm praying for Liam."

"Thanks, Grace." He disconnected before the hoarseness in his voice could deteriorate into weeping. Hearing her friendly, familiar voice had somehow opened the door on the fear and panic he'd been suppressing since the moment Stacey had called.

Victoria slid her good arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder, and he closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. He needed to be thinking. Liam was depending on him.

After a minute, he became aware that Victoria was shivering. "Why don't you go sit in the ambulance?" he suggested. "Once the crime scene techs get here, we'll need to get out of the way."

"Where are they?" she demanded.

"This isn't TV. Everything takes longer in real life."

She gave a put-upon sigh that would normally amuse or annoy him, but now gave him a much-needed sense of normalcy. "Can we check on Belle?"

"Stacey will be back soon." There was no way he was leaving Teresa until she woke or backup arrived. There was no guarantee that she was safe just because she'd been left behind. "Meanwhile, let's see if we can turn up any clues. Don't touch anything; just look." She'd already spotted Liam's phone, and she was a skilled observer who didn't have nearly as much awful stuff to feed her imagination as he did. Under the circumstances, she might be the better detective.

"Okay." She moved toward Teresa's gurney, looking closely at the pavement and the walls, working her way toward the dumpster at the end of the alley.

Patrick looked higher, searching for security cameras. This was a prosperous suburb, so there were fewer than in the District, but they should still be common. He walked out to the street, surveying the buildings nearby. They were mostly residential, with small businesses on the ground floor. The dry cleaners and coffee shop might have cameras or witnesses, he thought.

"Sir?" one of the paramedics called. "I think she's coming to."

He hurried over to the gurney and bent over Teresa, whose eyelids were fluttering. "Teresa? Wake up, love."

She groaned softly. He recognized it as an indicator that she was just beginning to wake. It could be a long process, even when drugs weren't involved.

A car screeched to a halt outside, and he heard heels clacking rapidly on the pavement. He glanced over his shoulder to see Leila hurrying toward them. "Is she all right?"

He nodded. "Thanks for coming."

"What do you need?"

"Are you armed?" She had a desk job, he recalled.

"Yes, and current," she replied. "I can stay with Victoria if you like."

"A witness took our dog to the vet. When she gets back, can you take Victoria there?" His daughter needed something to focus on, something useful to do, or she would flounder in fear. Plus, he wanted poor Belle to be comforted, and she must be frightened without any of her family there.

"Of course. The techs aren't here yet—she's looking for clues?"

"She needs to keep busy."

"I understand." Leila nodded, then went over to Victoria. After a quick greeting, Leila laid a hand on Victoria's shoulder to comfort her; Victoria ducked her head in a gesture reminiscent of her brother, but her composure held. Patrick was fiercely proud of her.

Teresa made another noise, this one conveying distress, and he looked back down at her, taking her hand. "You're safe. I'm here, Teresa."

She squeezed his hand and managed to open her eyes partway, her lips forming syllables but no sound emerging. He frowned, trying to lip read. "Who was here?" he asked.

"Liam," she whispered.

"Liam's missing." He hoped alarm would help her wake faster. "Who were you following?"

"Mi—Mitch—"

Patrick turned to Officer Temple. "Put out an APB on Emily Mitchell, now!"

"On it," he replied.

The crime scene technicians arrived a few seconds later, and Leila went to meet them, pointing to where Victoria was standing. One of the techs started snapping pictures of the area, and once Victoria was satisfied, she joined her father. "We found a footprint. Someone stepped in a puddle. It looks like a woman."

"Your mom's waking up. She was following Mitchell, the doctor from Visualize."

"And you think she took Liam?"

"She was involved, it seems." Patrick checked on Teresa, who was blinking as she tried to throw off the sedative.

"Here comes Stacey," Victoria said. "Is Mom okay?"

"She's just trying to wake up." Patrick tried to contain his impatience. The all points bulletin meant their only lead was being pursued; whatever else Teresa could tell them was surely secondary.

Stacey handed the paramedics their backboard but looked at Victoria. "Your dog's in good hands. They're X-raying her but Dr. Mullens thinks at least one rib is broken. She'll need surgery. I left the credit card with the office manager."

"Thanks," Victoria said, her voice wavering. "Dad?"

"Leila will go with you," he replied. "Ask them to preserve any trace evidence."

Stacey said, "I told them what happened." She handed Victoria a refrigerator magnet. "That's the address—they didn't have any cards."

"Thank you," Victoria said, taking the magnet in her good hand. "We really appreciate your help."

Stacey said, "Glad I could help the poor thing. I hope I'll see you at the dog park soon." She leaned down to pet her dog, who was watching all the activity warily.

Patrick said, "Text me when you get there, Princess."

"Okay." Victoria called as she hurried toward Leila. Stacey went over to speak to Officer Temple.

"Belle?" Teresa asked, her voice hoarse.

"She's at the vet. How are you?" Her gaze was focused, he saw with relief.

"I'm sorry," she said, wincing. "I should've been more careful. I should've known he'd follow me."

Patrick looked at the paramedic. "Do you have any water?"

"Sure." He reached into the ambulance and handed her a bottle.

Patrick steadied her shaky grip with his own hand. "Drink, slowly. Then you can tell Officer Temple what happened. We've put an APB out on Mitchell based on what you've said so far. Cho's girlfriend Leila is with Victoria, so she's safe."

"But Liam's not," she said bleakly. Between sips, she added, "Mitchell had an accomplice. He was all in black motorcycle gear with his helmet visor down. He was tall but not muscular, and he had a gun."

"We found Liam's phone, but there's no sign he was harmed," Patrick said, trying to reassure them both.

"I was so stupid. I was focused on him, and Mitchell got me from behind."

The guilt in her voice was all too familiar. It suddenly occurred to him that if the worst happened, she would never forgive herself. She would never be the same person, just as he hadn't been after losing his first family.

"Whoever's behind this has planned very carefully," he told her. "And knows us well. Don't beat yourself up."

His words were wasted, he knew immediately. But he had no better ones to give.

mmm

It was nearly an hour before they left the scene to meet Wylie at their place so he could put software on their phones in case of a ransom call, while Vega went to meet Leila and Victoria at the vet. Finding no further clues in the alley or Teresa and Stacey's memories, his desperation was growing. He needed to think, but he was surrounded by commotion and kept being distracted by Teresa's distress and his own anxiety.

He and Teresa had exchanged reassurances numerous times by now: Liam was level-headed, a good observer, smart, good at sleight of hand. All true. But he was still their little boy in the hands of someone out to hurt them. Someone who might not have qualms about torturing an innocent.

He could not look at the mutilated body of his child again. He'd barely survived it the first time, and this time Teresa might not be able to glue him back together. She might be even worse off, in fact.

Whatever happened, Victoria still needed them. He had to keep that firmly in mind. He would fight for his family with everything he had. That meant not just looking for Liam, but taking care of Teresa, Victoria, and Belle as well.

His phone buzzed while Wylie was fiddling with it, and he grabbed for it without thinking. Wylie let go but said, "Don't interrupt the app. Victoria says she's on her way back and to stop worrying so much."

Patrick read the text for himself before handing the phone back. A moment later Teresa stopped pacing and took out her phone. "Vega says they're on their way."

She didn't meet his eyes, but turned to look out the window even though it was the wrong direction to see their daughter and her two escorts approach.

Stifling a sigh, he went over to stand beside her, sliding an arm around her shoulders. This was as close to private as they were likely to get for the near future. "You remember all those times you yelled at me for wallowing in guilt and self-pity?" he murmured.

"Too many to remember them all," she pretended to grumble, her shoulders tensing.

"True," he agreed. "But I'm sure you remember the gist. I, of course, remember all of them word for word."

"You do not," she muttered.

"I do so," he lied, because her anger was better than self-flagellation. "I recall one in particular, a touching speech about how I was being selfish and couldn't see that there were people who cared about me and needed me. And I told you that some things couldn't be fixed. Do you remember that one?"

"Yeah. When we got Tanner. Before you shot him." She sounded wary.

The first person he'd killed—no wonder that entire day was vivid in his memory palace even after all these years. "Yes. I'm glad you remember, because that was pretty historic."

"Yeah?" She finally looked at him.

The pain in her eyes nearly derailed his train of thought. "Yes. Because I was wrong. Obviously. I could be fixed. You fixed me. It took years and more effort than most people would have expended, but you did it."

His words didn't have the affirming effect he'd hoped; instead she looked away, swallowing hard. After a moment, she whispered, "I also remember you told me there would be no third chances for you."

Their wedding night. He'd told her never to feel guilty about moving on if she survived him, but when she wanted the same promise, he'd demurred. Leave it to her to miss the main point of that conversation, he thought with some exasperation. "Remember what I asked you to promise?"

She frowned. "Not to feel guilty about moving on."

He shook his head, then pressed his cheek into her hair and whispered, "To forgive yourself."

Teresa sucked in a watery breath. "Even if it was my fault," she choked.

"Especially if it was your fault," he corrected.

She turned into his arms, muffling a sob against his shoulder. "How?"

He sighed, wishing he had a better answer for her. He had never really forgiven himself, just learned to live with the pain and guilt. "Forgiveness is your department, my dear. But you were right every time you told me that beating myself up was counterproductive. He's alive, you know."

"We don't know that."

"Yes, we do. If the plan was to kill him, we'd have found a body by now." He paused to let the wave of agony that swept through him at the thought subside. "This is aimed at us. Someone wants to hurt us. To break us." His arms tightened around her. "Don't let them succeed."

Her hands fisted in his shirt.

"This is when they have to get close enough for us to see them," he continued. "They want to watch us suffer. All we have to do is figure out how, and we've got them. Everybody makes a mistake sooner or later."

"Liam might not have later," she pointed out.

"He's every bit as stubborn and clever as I was. Better yet, he's resourceful and resilient like you. He'll hang on as long as we need him to." He desperately hoped he wasn't exaggerating.

She pulled back, taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes. "Now that it's not just threats, we'll have more resources."

"Right." No FBI agent would take lightly an agent's child being kidnapped because of a past case. It would hit close to home.

The door opened, and Victoria came in with Leila and Vega. "Belle came through the surgery," she announced. "She had some internal injuries but they think they got the bleeding stopped. They have to keep her at least overnight for observation, but they let me see her for a minute. She was still loopy from anesthesia but she knew me. She wagged her tail when I spoke to her." She bit her lip as tears welled in her eyes.

Teresa hugged her. "She's strong. We'll go see her tomorrow."

"Any word? On Liam?"

Teresa shook her head. "Not yet. Everything that can be done is being done, though." She stroked Victoria's hair as if she were a little girl again. "If you can help, we'll tell you, okay?"

"Okay." She dug in her pocket and handed Patrick his credit card.

"You don't need to go back to your classes today, unless you'd rather have something to keep busy," he told her.

"I don't think I can concentrate," Victoria said.

"Okay. Let's go tell your principal, hm?" Teresa put an arm around her and drew her toward her room.

Patrick watched them go, then turned to Leila. "Thank you. I owe you one."

"Nonsense," she replied. "Just take one off Kimball's tab. Is there anything more I can do?"

"Not at the moment, but we'll let you know."

"I'll check in after work, then." She turned to go, then paused. "He's a smart kid. He won't do anything stupid."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks." Patrick tried to summon a smile, but from Leila's sympathetic wince, it must have looked pretty ghastly. She nodded to him and left.

Vega was hanging over Wylie's shoulder as he worked on a laptop at the dining room table. Patrick went over to join them. "Anything?"

"Sorry," Wylie said. "Mitchell doesn't seem to have used her credit card since she entered the country. She made a large cash withdrawal at her bank in London on her last layover. I've got video of her at Dulles, but nobody seems to have met her there. No reservations at any local hotel under her name."

Patrick nodded. "Any under her organization's name? She said she was here to testify at the State Department."

"That was a lie," Wylie replied. "There are no hearings scheduled this week. Van Pelt sent me a list of her past and present known associates, and we've divided it up to look for anything, but it's going to take time."

"I'll help," Vega volunteered. "Where'd you put my computer bag?"

"By the couch," he answered. "I wasn't sure if we'll need to stay the night. Cho thought one of us should."

"Good idea. We'll find you a bed," Patrick said. He didn't want to be short-handed again.

His phone rang, sending his heart racing until he realized it was his burner. "Tell me you have something."

"Sorry," Cho replied, sounding it. "Nothing on Liam. Moore assigned Van Pelt's entire team to looking for him though, and Abbott has the DC field office on it. We'll find him, Jane. How's Lisbon?"

"She's fine, physically at least."

"Good. Tell her we're going all out. I'm on the red eye back tonight. We found Alexa Schultz."

"And?"

"Dead. Red John style, in a hotel outside Sacramento. Moore's taking lead."

Patrick took no comfort in being right about Schultz. "We need to focus on Mitchell."

"Yeah, we are. But Jane," Cho paused for a second, "if she's the one behind this, why let Lisbon see her? The accomplice was masked."

"She was the bait. So...probably not the mastermind," Jane agreed. "We need to find the accomplice."

"Van Pelt and Nelson are both scouring surveillance footage from the area," Cho agreed. "I want Wylie and Vega to stay with you until I get there."

"Agreed."

"Good. Stay with them, Jane. Don't run off."

"I'm staying with my family," Jane assured him.

"If anyone contacts you or you think of something new, call one of us."

Patrick huffed a little at his friend's suspicious nature. "I will. Don't worry."

"I'll stop worrying when Liam comes home," Cho replied, then disconnected.

Teresa returned as Patrick pocketed his burner phone. "News?"

"Alexa Schultz was found murdered. Cho's coming back tonight." He reached out a hand, and she took it. "He said to tell you they're going all out."

She nodded. "Good." Then she looked at Wylie. "How can I help?"

"Maybe...grab a laptop and help look through the surveillance footage?" he suggested.

"Right." She grabbed her bag from beside the door and pulled out her work laptop, then settled on the couch.

Patrick sat beside her. "Victoria?"

"Talking to Brett."

He supposed under the circumstances, he couldn't object. There was nothing better for her to do. All he could do at the moment was watch video over his wife's shoulder and hope to find a clue.

If there was a clue to find.