Authors Note; Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favorited or reviewed this story. It makes me happy to know that people like my work enough to read it, and also to leave a comment or otherwise show me you enjoyed it. My apologies that it took so long to get this chapter out. I'm in the process of developing a couple of series to pitch to Netflix and sometimes that writing has to occupy some of my time as well. I write for fun, not for profit and own nothing of the Mentalist. I hope you enjoy, and if you feel like dropping by to let me know how you feel, I'll enjoy hearing from you. -GHK-

Chapter 6:

Jane rose and moved over to the small table in the eat in kitchenette. Wylie looked up as he approached, but Jane walked on past the young computer specialist, to the other end of the table. He spread out the note Millie had received and stood studying it. After a few moments of this, he spoke quietly to Wylie.

"We need to analyze this note for whatever we can find from it. Can you make a copy that we can all look at together?"

Wylie nodded. Jane smiled and moved back over to the sofa area, bringing Cho's and Lisbon's phones with him as he did so. He spoke to Wylie as he walked by, "Did you find anything when you were analyzing the text messages?"

"There are no common words, no linguistic patterns that match any we have on file. They seem to be referring to specific events, or personality traits, maybe from specific cases. It almost seems like they were written by different people, who tried to make it look as though they were written by the same person."

Jane nodded. "Can you put them on the wall one at a time?"

Wylie nodded and a moment later, Jane's came up. He read it over silently in his head and then read the first two lines out loud.

All that we see and all that we seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

"What?" Lisbon looked up in disbelief.

"The first two lines of the text message I received are from this poem by Edgar Allan Poe. Take a look."

"What does it mean?" Abbott asked.

"Looking at it realistically, I'd say that someone is trying to let me know they are smart, well educated. I mean, it's a fairly obscure poem by Poe, and certainly not everyone knows about it. It's someone with a literary bent.

"Looking at it symbolically, it's a poem about loss—both a loss of hope, and more tangible losses. It speaks to how ethereal and fragile life is.

"And if you isolate those last two lines—the first two lines in the text message, and read them by themselves, then it suggests that things are not what they seem, or perhaps, that we are not seeing things for what they are. It feels a bit like a taunt or a challenge, to me. Like maybe time is running out to figure out what is really going on."

"And the last two lines?"

"The ocean must always battle the shore

Ships and whales must fight forevermore." Jane read them aloud and then continued.

"It isn't part of the poem. It seems to be making a reference to Moby Dick. The whole thing is reminiscent of that case in Marquesa and Tommy Olds. "

"Who is Tommy Olds?", Abbot asked.

"He was a young man who killed his reservist buddies over some land, and then pretended to be mentally challenged so no one would look too closely at him," Cho answered.

"He killed his buddies by setting them on fire," Lisbon added.

"And he's certainly smart enough and well educated enough to have written the message. He used his challenged persona like a mask, so it all fits," Jane said, thoughtfully.

"So we're thinking that's who is behind this?" Abbott asked.

"Maybe not." Jane directed their attention to the screen, where Lisbon's message was now displayed.

"The sky is blue.

Roses are red.

You saved Marvin Pettigrew

But you'll soon be dead."

Lisbon stiffened slightly in her chair. She tried to focus on controlling her breathing which was suddenly a bit short. She didn't want anyone to notice, especially not Jane, and so far, it was working.

"Not very good poetry, though I can't say much for either of them. This one has a different rhyme scheme, suggesting it was written by a different person, or someone trying to look like a different person.

"Nothing obscure or making literary reference. That suggests—"

"Lisbon? What is it?", Cho asked. He had moved over next to her and was watching her carefully. She was so busy trying to make sure Jane didn't notice, that she had forgotten how well Cho knew her, and that he could be almost as observant as their consultant at times, especially after working with the latter for several years. At Cho's question, Jane squatted down in front of her, facing her, and took her hand, holding it in such a way that he touched her wrist, no doubt counting out her pulse. She gently removed her hand from his grasp and Lisbon made a mental note to let Jane know, when they were alone, that he wasn't to do that with her. Under any circumstances. Not now. Not ever.

"It's nothing. Marvin Pettigrew is a name I haven't heard in a long time, that's all. I was just surprised. Let's not make more of this than there is." She studied her hands.

She could tell Cho wasn't satisfied with that answer, but when she didn't say anymore, he dropped it. That was Cho. She was under no illusions that he wouldn't come back to it later. She felt Jane's eyes burning into her, and when she looked up and their eyes locked, she knew he didn't buy it. Casting around for anything she could say to change the subject, she settled on asking about whatever it was he had taken from Millie's purse.

"What was that piece of paper you took from Millie's handbag?"

"That was the note that she found attached to the dog's collar."

The tightness around his eyes and lips told her that he knew exactly what she was trying to do, and she wouldn't get away with it. It seemed he had dropped it for the time being, though, and that had been her goal.

"Are there any clues in it?"

"No written ones. I'm having Wylie make a copy so we can look at it together. Then, when we have access to the FBI lab, we'll have them analyze the paper and the ink. I don't really think it has fingerprints on it, besides mine and Millie's, but of course, they'll test that as well, and anything else they can think of, no doubt."

Lisbon nodded. Jane continued. "I'd like a word with you, Agent Lisbon." He rose and headed for the first bedroom. When Lisbon didn't follow, he turned back to her and his voice was tight when he said, "If you don't want to follow me, we can do it here. I don't care one way or the other."

Lisbon's heart sank. It seemed he hadn't dropped the matter after all. She grudgingly rose and followed him into the first bedroom, which was now empty. He closed and locked the door behind them, and then moved over and locked the bathroom door as well.

He sat down in one of the small chairs at the table and motioned her to do the same. She remained standing. She was on the offensive and didn't want him to have the upper hand. She started to speak but he spoke before she could do so.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." She saw the look he gave her and said, "Really."

"Your heart was racing just a moment ago. That's why I wanted you to sit down. You may have fooled Cho and Abbott when you said you were surprised that the message mentioned Marvin Pettigrew, but you didn't fool me. For one thing, I know his mother sends you reports on his well-being every year."

Of course he did. Why would she have ever thought she could keep it hidden from him.

She cast around for something to say, but nothing came to mind so she simply stood there staring at him, silent.

"Something spooked you about that text message."

"It was just unexpected."

"Come now, Teresa, you know you can't lie to me. Seeing a message with a little boy's name in it shouldn't have elicited that kind of reaction, especially since the report you get from his mother every year says he's doing well. I'd like to know what did elicit that type of reaction."

She studied his face, but all she found was the conviction that he was exactly right in his assessment of her. She hesitated a moment longer, but she knew she had to tell him. There was lying, and then there was lying to Patrick Jane.

"When Agent Potts and I were being seated for dinner, I thought I saw Brenda Shettrick," She was refusing to make eye contact and had suddenly gotten very interested in a small spot on the carpet. He said nothing, but sat there leaning forward in his chair, watching her expectantly and waiting for her to speak.

"I didn't believe it was her at first. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. After all, she should still be in jail, and she was walking up the street, away from us, but when she stopped at the crosswalk to wait for the light to change, she turned back and I saw her clearly. Then I knew it was her. She didn't make eye contact or speak, nor did she do anything else to make any sort of contact. I don't think she even knew I was there."

As she spoke, she was inching closer and closer to him and to the seating area. When she was close enough, Jane put a hand under her arm and guided her over to the sofa and helped her sit down.

"But?" He prompted, when she didn't start speaking again right away.

She was far too strong, too tough a cop to bring her knees up to her chin and put her arms around them, but Jane watched as she folded into herself a bit, becoming smaller and more closed off to others.

"When I realized it was her, the memory of those days with Volker and all of the things associated with them came flooding back to me. The dead guy in the warehouse, the little dust covered r/c car, Amanda Shaw hanging in her apartment, Volker sitting beside me on her front step, mocking me with the 'suicide note', and how close Marvin Pettigrew came to dying, there at the zoo. The feeling of helplessness. The fear that this man was untouchable and that we might not be able to get him. The knowledge that Brenda sold us all out. You and me. The team. La Roche. You told me one time that you were worried that Volker had gotten into my head, and I didn't realize until tonight how true that was. You may be the only person who knows exactly how difficult those days were for me."

"And now?"

"Now, I—don't know. I mean, seeing Brenda Shettrick on the street and then receiving a text message about Marvin Pettigrew. There's no way that can be a coincidence. Can it?"

She knew Jane didn't believe in coincidence, but a part of her desperately wanted her companion to tell her that that's exactly what this was. She turned away and focused on controlling her breathing, using some of the tricks he had taught her to get herself back under control. After a moment, she felt the tough no nonsense cop part of her personality fighting its way back into the foreground. Then, she felt hands on her shoulders, but she ducked out from under them and turned to face him.

"Is Tommy Volker back?" She asked, in a strained voice.

He shook his head. "I-I don't know," he said finally. "What I do know is that now that you've acknowledged the hold Volker and Shettrick have over you, you need to work on getting them out of your head. Otherwise, this mission is dangerous to you, and it could get you killed."

"How do I do that?"

Jane looked at her, and he could tell from her body language and the anxiety in her voice that she wasn't ready for him to answer that question.

"We'll come back to this later. If you're ready, we need to go back out with the others and finish ironing out the plan."

Lisbon had no desire to continue this conversation, but Jane was Jane. If he felt he needed to come back to it later, he would.

(0o0)

Jane escorted Lisbon back out to where the other were waiting for them, and they spent the next half hour putting a plan together. It was only rudimentary, and they had no doubt that Jane would change it a bit, add his own touches here and there, but at least it was a working plan. When they had reached that point, Jane stood up and said,

"You all keep working on the plan. We know that someone is taking a run at the team. Whether it is Tommy Olds or Tommy Volker, or Brenda Shettrick, the plan we have should stop them. Does everyone understand your part?"

They all nodded.

"Good. I'm going to see if I can jog Agent Potts memory, now that she's had some time to rest and calm down."