Disclaimer – As cool as it would be to be a member of Team Heller, it's evident I'm not. Therefore I don't own any part of the Mentalist TV series and am not making any money off these stories.
Thank you Cumberland River Relic and MakeMineAKiaora. Once again your generosity of time as betas and effort as critique partners is greatly appreciated. You two are wonderful writers!
Chapter 51
Cho settled in his chair after a brief trip to the evidence room. He glared at his desk phone, particularly at the red light in the handset flashing rapidly to signify a number of messages. No doubt most of them were for Lisbon. No doubt many of them were from Bertram.
What the hell was Bertram's problem? He kept calling Cho, asking time-wasting questions like "How's your day going?" and "Is the team performing well during Lisbon's time away?" Seriously, Bertram wouldn't call him at home on Thanksgiving, would he? Well, if the director decided to, he'd have to leave a message because Kimball's phone was going to be shut off until Friday morning with the excuse that his phone had been run over by a truck and couldn't be replaced because of the holiday.
The SCU team was supposed to be on call for the holiday weekend but at least they were now splitting it with Major Crimes because of Lisbon's absence. Agent Eliza Smithfield still felt bad about having to convey the news about Lisbon's niece and offered to lend a hand. She talked her unit into helping with the workload, especially when it became known that Jane had gone with Lisbon to Chicago. Was it pity directed at the team for being shorthanded? Or pity that Lisbon's life was going to explode into trouble because Jane was with her?
Cho sighed heavily. The rest of the world had no idea what kind of trouble Jane had really caused the lead agent for Serious Crimes. The pity would really begin when they found out. Maybe it would come to light during the holiday. A major newspaper like the Chicago Tribune was often perused by other papers for breaking stories. This little 'human interest story' as the reporter had called it was a major scandal in the environs of Californian law enforcement.
Regardless, Cho planned to be well away: painted and dressed in camouflage, sleeping under a survivalist canopy of pine boughs at the base of a fallen tree, alone and self-sufficient in the forests of the Mount Zion State Forest. He only needed the one night to fully recharge and regain balance, and it would do him a world of good. Something was required to counter how off-kilter the world became when Lisbon and Jane got married.
Mr. and Mrs. Patrick Jane. Mrs. Teresa Jane. It made him shake his head.
The phone in his pocket buzzed. It was a text from Lisbon.
Do you know anything about antique baseball cards?
Cho stared at the message for a long while before answering. Some. Why?
I have some I need to sell. I'll pay you half of what you get if you sell them.
Cho: Okay, sounds good. Let me know how you want to handle this.
Twenty minutes later a message came from Jane as Cho was finishing up listening to all the messages in Lisbon's work phone voice mails.
Lisbon takes it back. She'll give you 25% of the net after shipping.
Now why didn't this surprise Cho? Jane was a real jerk sometimes. He wrote back, I like the first offer better.
Cho immediately wrote to Lisbon: What's going on? Jane said 25 per cent of net. What are the cards? Where did they come from?
There wasn't another message for at least ten minutes. Cho could just imagine the discussion.
His phone vibrated with a note from Lisbon: I inherited these cards from my brother. In this case, half of what is mine is not his. Then she wrote: 50% of net if you sell them.
Cho: How many are there?
Lisbon: A couple hu
Cho sent Lisbon a question mark. She wrote back almost immediately. Patrick hit send. I was going to say couple hundred. He said thousands.
He lifted his head and stared at the model of the squad car on his desk. Shit, she just called him 'Patrick'. She really needed to be careful about the familiarities. Besides, it was just…weird.
Then Cho wrote: Thousands?
The next text was from Jane. We'll take care of it.
Cho was about to reply when Van Pelt exclaimed "Oh my god! They're married!"
Cho looked over at Grace Van Pelt's desk where she stared open-mouthed at her computer monitor, her gaze dashing across the screen. Her mouth opened and closed in the ever-decreasing manner of a pet fish about to be a candidate for the Latrine Farewell, the One-Flush Salute.
"Who?" Rigsby asked.
When she didn't answer, Cho glanced around the bullpen, nearly empty because people had already begun to depart for their holiday, despite it not yet being noon. He stood and crossed to her desk to view what had stunned her so.
It was the Chicago Tribune story. "Correction to Tuesday's image story: the human interest photo of the man proposing to a woman in front of the Picasso in Richard J Daley Plaza has been recognized as Patrick Jane kneeling before Teresa Lisbon. Cook County records confirmed they were married immediately after the photo was taken. Ms. Lisbon is an agent with the California Bureau of Investigation. Mr. Jane is a consultant for that same agency and also widower of a victim of Red John, a serial murderer who was shot and killed earlier this year. The couple could not be reached for comment."
"Wayne," Cho said. He looked around and then waved for the tall man to come closer.
"I have an internet alert set up to notify me when 'Red John' shows up as a new item," Van Pelt said. "You know. Just in case one of the hidden disciples makes a move. There were lots of hits after we got him but...this?" She tapped her computer screen. "This is crazy."
"Insane," Rigsby said. "How do they make up with these crap ideas?"
"They don't," Cho said. He jammed his hands on his hips and took a deep breath. After a quick look around the now empty bullpen, he added, "This is true."
Rigsby and Van Pelt stared at him a moment. Then she turned to her keyboard and started to type. "I'll check the Cook County records myself."
"No! Not at work," Cho said. In a hushed voice he added, "Let the powers that be find out in their own way, rather than IT possibly telling management."
Van Pelt stopped and then lowered her hands to her lap.
"Listen, it's almost lunch. Meet at Grady's Pub in twenty minutes."
After the food was served and Cho was certain there would be no interruption from the waiter, he leaned forward and spoke in quiet tones.
"I received a call on Boss's extension from a Chicago reporter who was trying to confirm that the Patrick Jane and the Teresa Lisbon identified in the picture and on the marriage certificate were our Jane and Lisbon. I told him that I'd get back to him. Then I texted Janet Avery, calling in a favor to keep it quiet until we could hear something definitive."
"So is it true?" Van Pelt asked. Her face was a mix of hope and anxiety. "Are they married?"
Cho sighed heavily. "It appears to be so. I texted Lisbon right after talking to Avery but I got no answer. I also tried to call Jane but it went right to voice mail, so he must have had his phone off. About an hour later Boss called me on Jane's phone, saying it was true." He swallowed and sat back, looking around the room. "But then she got very tightlipped about it. I couldn't seem to get much out of her at all. Not long later, Jane called. Said he got my voicemail and asked what happened. He then asked me to talk to Avery and try to delay confirming with the press in hopes the story will die down."
Rigsby scoffed and sat back. "Don't hold your breath."
"That's for certain," Van Pelt said. She looked significantly as Rigsby. "The Rumor Mill is alive and well at the CBI."
"Well, everyone knows about you two because you two can't keep a secret," Cho said looking back and forth between them. When they both flushed, he sighed deeply and leaned forward. Taking up his fork, he stared at his plate a moment and stirred his coleslaw. "And neither, apparently, can Boss and Jane."
He put his fork down and cussed under his breath. "So much for Jane acting as a trusty chauffeur."
Van Pelt raised her hand to her lips and laughed. The two men stared at her.
"You have to admit it's funny," she said. "I mean, we've all known for years this would happen eventually. And now that Jane has stopped obsessing about Red John...?"
She stared at Cho and then Rigsby, quirking her eyebrows leadingly.
Cho nodded and picked up his fork again as Rigsby began to laugh.
"You know, you're right, Grace. Jane can finally focus on life again. And so can Lisbon."
"So can we," Cho said. "But first she needs to get promoted, and I'm not sure how well this is going to go over with Bertram."
"It's perfect actually," Van Pelt said. "You know Jane isn't going to let her get fired over this; he's too protective. I bet he'll find some way to leverage her into the Senior Agent spot."
"About time," Rigsby said. He looked at Cho. "Then you can take over SCU."
"Well...maybe." Cho shifted in his chair which seemed covered with sharp rocks. "Let's just make certain she doesn't start her Christmas shopping this weekend by having to shop for a new job outside of CBI."
"And what about the baby?" Grace asked.
Cho examined her look of concern, recognizing how guileless she always was. He then turned his gaze to Rigsby whose mouth dropped open and glazed eyes stared blankly at Grace.
"What baby?" Cho asked.
"Her niece's baby," Rigsby whispered. "The one Jane said might be an orphan. I forgot…"
"Jane never said anything about a baby, so I wonder if it died with its parents. That's a pretty important thing not to mention. All he did say was they married on a whim on Monday and that they were enjoying a lovely honeymoon packing stuff to give to charity. And that he went to church on Sunday."
Grace burst out laughing. Wayne's mouth dropped open even further.
"Yeah, it was a joke," Cho said. Despite Jane sounding completely sincere, it had to be, right? The man could sound sincere while explaining that the sky outside was chartreus green with purple spots the whole time he'd been outside for lunch. "Also he said they would be back on either Monday or Tuesday."
"Maybe you should ask Lisbon," Grace said.
"Every time I've called Lisbon's phone, Jane answers."
"Well, at least someone is answering," Wayne said. "It's always gone to voice mail for me."
Cho looked at him thoughtfully a moment before shaking his head. "I bet he's commandeered her phone. She probably was getting a lot of sympathy calls as the word spread, so Jane took over."
Hesitantly, Van Pelt smiled but it grew stronger and she said, "That's actually kinda romantic, considering it's usually Lisbon protecting him. I mean, the way he took charge of things for her when she found out? It was sweet, really."
"Well…I had been thinking she's been overwhelmed with two family deaths so I've been avoiding calling her, but if she's dealing with four funerals including Annie's husband and their son, we should avoid calling her if possible. Jane will let us know if they need anything from us."
Van Pelt's brow knit a moment and then she shook her head. "Well, maybe he will… What's the party line regarding rumors of Jane and Lisbon? What are we supposed to say?"
"Jane said to deny it as long as possible, just acknowledge that we heard the rumors too."
Van Pelt scoffed. "That's the problem with working with a bunch of cops. They're going to do what I was going to do; check the online records."
"And what about Bertram?" Rigsby asked.
Cho gave him a sour look. He knew that question was coming. It was the question echoing through his own mind. What was the deal there? Jane said he spoke with Bertram, but he never said if Bertram knew. And Bertram didn't mention anything either, although it was odd that they had no contact with the man until after Cho got the call from the reporter.
Yeah…he knew.
"We can't worry about Bertram."
"I saw that he called a couple times." Van Pelt's voice was soft with sympathy. "Has he been…okay?"
"It's fine," Cho said flatly. "Usual upper management worries about how we're handling the manpower shortage. I assured him that with Jane gone, things have been very quiet in the office." He tossed his napkin onto the table next to his plate. "And speaking of that, we'd better get back."
Disappointment flooded Rigsby's face as he looked at his half-eaten lunch. Cho rolled his eyes and picked up his napkin again.
"Okay, okay, finish your food, but we need to get going."
To be continued...
