No warnings this time...
The next day at work Lisbon got a call from the coroner's office informing her, that Alexander Jane's body was to be released, waiting to be claimed by his next of kin. She asked Jane into her office to inform him and had barely finished telling him the news, when Van Pelt came in accompanied by Director Bertram's new personal assistant.
Patrick had pegged out the young man as a bootlicker the first moment they'd met and liked him about as much as his old one, though he'd managed to hide it slightly better this time – maybe because Julian Baker hadn't had the audacity to touch him. Whatever the reasons Teresa was very glad he hadn't alienated the man right from the start and made the dealings with the director even more difficult, especially now that she knew about Jane's intricate contract situation.
"Boss? Mr. Baker says, he has two things to clear up with you at Director Bertram's orders. Something about a DNA-analysis for the Fisher-case and something about Keen," the female agent explained.
"Thanks Grace. I'll take it from here. Mr. Baker, why don't you take a seat? Mr. Jane, would you leave us alone for a moment?" Lisbon said.
Patrick nodded and got up from the visitor's chair but covertly cast her a worried look.
"No, Agent Lisbon. It's Director Bertram's express wish, that Mr. Jane should be present during this conversation," the young man stated in the eager and diligent tone he always seemed to use.
Patrick shrugged, went over to the sofa and took a seat there. Teresa indicated for Baker to sit down across from her. "Well, Mr. Baker. What is it the director wants to know?"
"It has come to Director Bertram's attention that someone on this team ordered a DNA-analysis as evidence in the Fisher-case. The director is worried because he had no prior knowledge that any additional evidence had been found and wishes to get an explanation, Agent."
Jane could see Lisbon blanch a bit. She kept her composure relatively well, but he was afraid she'd blab so he chimed in at once. "Ah, Julian, what a lucky coincidence that I'm here right now because Agent Lisbon actually doesn't know anything about this matter."
Baker turned in his direction. "What do you mean, Jane? Is that one of your little schemes? Director Bertram warned me that you might be pulling some tricks again. He asked me to remind you that you're skating on thin ice."
Patrick snickered disparagingly and waved his hand dismissively, "Skating-shmating… now do you want to get that story or not? Bertram might not be too happy with you if you don't get the truth from me because you wasted your time making idle threats, upsetting me, so I clammed up."
Baker cast him a fearful look and was about to apologize when Teresa intervened.
"Jane!" she warned her lover, very worried what kind of tale he would spin. She'd half a mind to just tell the director the truth.
"Okay, okay. I'll tell you. You might not like it. It's not completely legal, strictly speaking," Jane started and Lisbon's tension-level increased tenfold, while the young man swallowed heavily and looked utterly uncomfortable at the thought of having to inform the director of this.
"Oh come on, don't look so worried," Jane told them merrily. "It's not that bad. I ordered the test," he added with total nonchalance.
Baker seemed a bit annoyed now. "I figured as much, Jane. But why?"
"Ah, well, let me tell you a secret, Julian. The test? It's not really related to the Fisher-case," Patrick whispered conspiratorial.
"Jane? Cut the crap," Teresa scolded him, losing her temper with his little game.
He waved his hands in a pacifying gesture and continued, "Patience, Lisbon, patience. I'm getting to the good part. As you both know, my father was killed ten days ago."
Baker nodded looking extremely uncomfortable with the subject. "Yeah, ahm, sorry for your loss, Mr. Jane."
"Ah, don't strain yourself faking sympathy, Julian. I know you couldn't care less," Patrick needled him and the assistant wriggled in his chair in obvious unease. "Well, as it is, in the aftermath of this unfortunate event some people showed up claiming to be relatives of him. You might have heard some rumors about it?"
Baker nodded, still very ill at ease. "Yes. We've heard that there was some kind of attack against you here. A DA from San Jose, right?"
"Ah, always well informed at City Hall, I see. Now, the thing is, I'd never heard of any relatives before. And I should have, don't you agree, Julian? I mean, very strange my father wouldn't have mentioned them, right?" Jane inquired.
The young man nodded again a bit hesitantly and the consultant went on, "See? I thought so too. So when that man attacked me, I recovered some hairs from him. To find out if a DNA-analysis would back up his claim. And since this was without his consent, I couldn't very well take them to a normal lab." At this point he made a supplicating gesture. "I know, it's a bit of an abuse of my position here, but hey, that man's a lawyer. Would've taken an awful long time to get a court order to legalize the testing."
He paused a moment, letting the story sink in, watching the assistant's eyes widen with shock at this impudence. "Tell Bertram that I promise I'll reimburse the CBI for the costs, no harm done. I even arranged it so the lab guys don't have to do any further work aside from the mere essentials. I'll do the rest all on my own," Patrick finished his tale.
"But that's intolerable! The director won't be happy about this. I'm sure there will be consequences, Jane. It's a blatant abuse of resources and…" Baker stammered, indignant.
The consultant looked completely unfazed. "Ah, I'm sure a few allowances can be made for a grieving, mourning son, don't you agree, Julian?" He managed to appear hopeful. "I mean, no harm done after all. I really need to know the truth, you understand? Wouldn't do if some fraud just came along trying to exploit my time of sorrow, claimed to be a relative and tried to steal my hard-earned money. That wouldn't be right, would it?" He cast a distraught glance at Baker. "I'm sure if you could present the matter like this, Julian, that Bertram will be most sympathetic." Jane put on a mask of pleading and despair for good measure, successfully forcing the young assistant to commiserate and take the role of confidant.
Lisbon didn't know whether to laugh and laud Patrick for this or punch his nose. The story was so outrageous that there was a good chance he'd actually get away with it. Bertram would be furious of course, but the idea that someone was trying to con one of his employees – no matter how annoying they were – wouldn't sit well with him either. And that he was responsible for Jane's peculiar financial situation would work to Patrick's advantage too. Once more she was astonished about the way his mind worked. He'd come up with this elaborate tale in a matter of seconds, backed it up with facts enough so it would stand against quite a bit of scrutiny, and had even managed to add a bit of a slight against the director as well.
"Oh yes, maybe, if you put it like that," poor Baker said with an insecure expression.
"Excellent, Julian. Thank you for your understanding. Now there was a second matter you wanted to discuss?" Jane asked.
The assistant nodded eagerly, glad for the change of subject. "Ah, yes. The director wanted me to tell you that Officer Keen has to be transferred to Sacramento County Jail today. I've the necessary paperwork here with me." He handed Lisbon a folder.
"Wait a second, Baker. Bertram can't be serious. Keen is as good as dead as soon as he leaves our custody. He's our most important witness against Red John. He knows him personally," Patrick said with agitation.
"Director Bertram is of the opinion that the CBI can no longer cover the costs for his security detail. People have been doing overtime for over a week now due to the heavy surveillance you've ordered, Agent Lisbon. The director says that with the latest budget cuts, the CBI can't afford this anymore. Furthermore, you haven't managed to get anything useful out of him. Keen will be handled as a high security prisoner. You can interview him there any time. Director Bertram has made sure, that you'll have full access. Nothing will happen to him," the young man explained.
Jane was seething with anger. He'd jumped up from the couch and was pacing nervously. "That stupid idiot! Wasn't it enough that the moron let himself be played by the FBI and lost us Lorelei Martins? Now he risks our best chance yet to get to Red John for a few thousand dollars? That stupid, idiotic, cheap son-of…."
Lisbon interrupted him at this point, "Jane? Compose yourself. Insulting the director won't help our case. I'm as unhappy with this as you are, but please calm down."
"But Lisbon, he's…" Patrick tried again, but Baker interrupted him smugly.
"Director Bertram anticipated your protests. Keen's being taken to the County Jail as we speak. In fact, considering that we've been speaking for quite a while already, I assume that he's already halfway there."
Jane had only shouted a furious "No!" and run from Lisbon's office like a maniac. Teresa had gotten out of her chair in a hurry as well and stood over the young assistant sending a death glare in his direction. "This was a mistake, Baker. And when this turns into the expected disaster, I'll make sure you'll get caught in the fall too. Get out of my office and back to Bertram. Tell him I need to talk to him at his earliest convenience." She all but threw the man out of the room and stormed after Patrick.
She found him sitting on the floor in the deserted basement outside the holding cells panting, eyes wild and desperate. "He's gone, Lisbon. They've already taken him," he whispered hoarsely. "He's gone."
Teresa sat beside him and took hold of one of his hands, intertwining their fingers, and pulled it onto her lap. Right now she didn't give a damn about anybody seeing them like this. "I know," she said sadly. "I'm sorry, Patrick. I didn't see this one coming at all. I'd never have believed Bertram would do this, not after the last fiasco."
"Sometimes I'm really not sure why I even bother anymore," Jane mumbled brokenly. "It's just one blow after another. One step forward, two steps back… I'm so tired of this, Teresa." His head hung and his shoulders slumped and he looked completely defeated.
Lisbon used her free hand to take a hold of his chin. She turned so she was facing him, forced his head up, and locked eyes with him. "No, Patrick. You're not giving up. We'll get through this together, you, me, and the team. We still have that DNA-analysis and, man, am I ever glad you spun that tale! That was excellent, Patrick. I was about ready to tell Bertram the truth…"
A very tentative, small smile crept up on his lips. "It was rather ingenious, wasn't it? That boot-licker sucked it up like breast milk. One of my better scams, if I might say so myself."
"No reason to get all cocky, Jane," she scolded him lightly, but they both knew she didn't mean it at all because she was looking at him warmly, relieved he'd not lost all of his spark. It always impressed and amazed her, how this man managed to get back on his feet after all the setbacks he'd had to endure over the years.
Patrick got up and pulled her into a standing position as well. "I'll be up in the attic for a while. Have to make a few calls. Funeral arrangements and all that." He sighed.
Checking the corridor and finding it still deserted, she pulled him down into a quick kiss. "I'll be coming up there if you aren't back down in my office in ninety minutes, Patrick. I'm gonna treat you to lunch today."
"That's thoughtful, but I doubt I'll be very hungry, Lisbon."
She frowned. "I'll not allow you to develop some kind of eating disorder, Jane. You need to eat. You've been missing out on too many meals as it is lately. I'm sure you lost at least ten pounds in Vegas."
"Pot, kettle, black, Teresa. That's all I'm saying. But alright, I'll have lunch with you. Only to make sure YOU get something to eat," he replied.
"Okay. If that's what it takes, Patrick."
They walked to the elevator together and went up. They got out and he turned towards the stairs that led up to the attic. "Ninety minutes, Jane," she said before she proceeded to her office.
He did in fact enter her office 85 minutes later. "Funeral service will be on Monday. Oh, and should you talk to Bertram at some point, tell him I'll be taking that day off whether he likes it or not, and that I'm aware he'll reduce my wages by fifty dollars for it." He laughed disparagingly.
She cast him a grim look. "That'd be so immoral, I don't even have words for it," she huffed. "But I'll do better. The whole team will get the day off. We'll all be with you."
"You don't have to do that, but…" he cleared his throat, "I'd be very glad to have you by my side."
"And that's exactly where I'm gonna be, Patrick," Teresa declared with outmost conviction. "And I'm sure that goes for the rest of the team as well."
"What goes for us as well?" Rigsby voiced the thoughts of all three team members, who'd just entered the office together.
"That we'll accompany Jane to his father's funeral on Monday," Lisbon told them, her look warning off anyone from objecting, not that any of them had any such intentions. They were all nodding avidly.
"We'll be there, Jane," Cho answered for all of them.
Patrick looked slightly uncomfortable. "Thanks, guys. But you really don't have to. Not that I would mind you being there, but…" He made a dismissive gesture with his hands. "I mean, if you don't want to, which would be totally understandable. No one likes funerals after all, well apart from undertakers, I presume, but that doesn't really count," he rambled bashfully.
Van Pelt furrowed her brow. "Of course we'll be there, Jane. We're family. We all went to Wayne's dad's as well."
"Yeah, but that was different," Patrick murmured nearly inaudibly.
"How's it different, Patrick?" Lisbon asked him quietly.
"You know, why, Teresa," he whispered in her ear so only she could hear.
She shook her head. "Can't say that I do," she answered quietly.
Her consultant rolled his eyes and bent down to her ear again. "We all like Wayne, Teresa," he explained in quiet exasperation.
Lisbon took a deep breath. "Cho, close the door," she ordered harshly and the Asian agent did so immediately. "You know what, Jane? I'm fed up with this. We'll resolve this issue now, once and for all. And then we'll go out and have lunch together. The whole team."
Patrick cast her an incredulous look, begging with his eyes for her to stop.
"No, Patrick. You won't stop me. I want this in the open. Could you please repeat what you just told me?" she demanded with determination.
He shook his head.
She snorted angrily. "Okay, then I will do it for you. Grace, Wayne, Kimball? Patrick here thinks that since you don't like him anyway you shouldn't be forced to attend his father's funeral."
Rigsby looked completely puzzled. "But we didn't even know him. How were we supposed to like him? And he attacked you, Jane. And besides, you didn't know or like my father either."
Cho raised his brows, Van Pelt shook her head, and Lisbon chuckled without humor. "Thank you, Wayne. That was incredibly dumb, but it conveyed the right message I'm sure."
The young man frowned. "Dumb? How was it dumb, boss?"
Teresa glared at him. "Sometimes I really don't know how you manage to be such a good detective while being that thick. I wasn't talking about you not liking Jane's father, I was talking about you not liking Jane, Rigs."
"But that's dumb, boss. Of course we like Jane. I still don't get it." Wayne looked totally bewildered.
Cho snorted and cast him an incredulous look, but said, "Yes, I agree with Rigsby. Not about the not getting it part, though."
Grace on the other hand had walked over to Jane and stood before him, arms akimbo, eyes full of fire. "How can you think that, Jane? We're family. Of course we like you."
She was faced with a very flustered consultant, swaying back and forth on his feet, wringing his hands, and developing a sudden interest in the floor design. "It's okay not to like me. I know I'm not an easy person to be around. I don't blame you. I've caused a lot of trouble for you, all of you. Especially lately with that whole Vegas-fiasco," he replied in a quiet, subdued tone. He looked up with a rather open expression and added quietly, "I know you didn't help for my sake but for Lisbon, but for what it's worth, thanks anyway. I've never told you, but I'm really thankful for the support."
"And you call me dumb, boss," Rigsby huffed. He'd finally caught on and was honestly shocked. He'd not had the slightest idea the other man was so insecure about his position in their little family.
Patrick had recovered his poise in the meantime. "Alright, enough with the maudlin sentimentalities. Weren't we supposed to go and have lunch?"
"What? No group-hug?" Cho deadpanned.
"No way, count me out," Jane replied with a slightly forced grin. He opened the door and showed them out with a waving gesture of his hand. "After you."
He lost his cool a bit when each of his teammates patted him on the arm or shoulder on their way out, apart from Lisbon who whispered a satisfied "Told you so!" in his ear instead.
TBC
Sorry for the long wait, but my beta actually has a real life and has been very busy with other things lately. But rest assured that this story will be continued and completed.
Now I'm hoping very much to get the 100th review for this chapter. Thank you very much for all the kind words I've already received, and a special thanks to those who have reviewed as guests because I haven't had the chance to do it personally.