A/N: Hope all my American readers had a Happy Thanksgiving! Here's a late gift for you all. Enjoy.
Chapter 4
"This is normally my shopping day," said Grace apologetically, setting down a huge platter of spaghetti with meat sauce in the middle of their dining room table next to the simple tossed salad. "Sorry there's nothing fancier to serve you guys." She was always thrown back in time when she was around her former boss, feeling like the newbie trying constantly to impress.
"Well it looks delicious," said Lisbon. "And we're starving." She patted her stomach for emphasis.
"They're always starving," added Jane with a loving grin at his wife. She elbowed him playfully.
"Eating for two's the absolute truth," said Grace, sitting down next to Rigsby, who'd taken his place at the head of the table. "You try keeping up your energy while growing a new life."
"Hey, I've always eaten enough for two," Rigsby said, and they all laughed knowingly, nostalgically. They'd shared many a meal together once upon a time; the only thing missing was Cho. Also, several of those meals from their past had centered around their quest for Red John, making it doubly and painfully nostalgic.
And while Lisbon and Rigsby dug into their pasta with gusto, Jane, himself normally a connoisseur of great food, merely took a few bites out of politeness. His stomach was roiling with trepidation, and he had no appetite. The waiting was the worst, and he couldn't put any of his other plans in motion until they heard back from Cho. What's more, without those plans in place, Red John had promised to strike again if they weren't out of California by early tomorrow morning. If he'd had someone watching them closely, Partridge would know by now they hadn't gotten off the plane at their first layover.
Lisbon had noticed how he'd been absently sliding his food around his plate without taking a bite.
"Hey. You okay?" she said softly, as their hosts were distracted with dishing up Rigsby's second helping.
"No," he said simply. He had no appetite for hiding the truth from her either.
Beneath the table, she squeezed his knee.
Everyone but Jane was enjoying the simple dessert of chocolate ice cream in the living room when the borrowed burner phone buzzed in Jane's suitcoat pocket. He took it out, the conversation stopping at once as he answered the familiar number. Cho.
"Hey, Kimball," Jane said tightly. "Whatcha got?" He put the call on speaker.
"Rosalind Harker is gone," Cho answered without preamble. Jane's stomach dropped with disappointment.
"What do you mean, gone?"
"I was able to get her number. I called several times this afternoon. Nothing. So I got her caseworker to go check on her. Her house was a wreck, they said, but only because she was apparently packing up quickly. Clothes were obviously missing from her closet."
Jane met Lisbon's eyes, frowning. "Was she running from someone, or with someone?" he mused aloud.
"I don't know. But there's something else. There was a smiley face in her bedroom above her bed, in ink, not blood. No sign of struggle or foul play."
Jane nodded. "Yeah. Red John had drawn a face that way at her old place, knowing that I could see it, but that Rosalind couldn't. It was a warning then. He's taken her with him, or had someone take her. She loved the guy, and I have no doubt she would come if he called."
"Once she knew who he really was, wouldn't she have been afraid of him?" asked Grace.
"Sociopaths have a way of finding just the right words to make you forget what's in your own best interest."
"All he might have needed to say was that he loved her," added Lisbon.
Despite the somber circumstances, Jane couldn't stop his wry grin. "It worked for me."
"Do we try to find her?" asked Rigsby.
Jane shook his head. "I'm sure she's fine. If he'd wanted her dead, he would have killed her there."
"What's scary is that he's probably known where she's been this whole time," said Grace, "had access through his contacts in the FBI."
"He wasn't worried about her talking though, because she's never seen his face," Lisbon said.
"What if he's been staying with her all this time?" Cho asked suddenly.
Those in the Rigsby living room looked at each other, realization dawning.
"Would you mind asking the agents on the scene if there was any sign that someone else had been living with Rosalind," Jane said. "Or at the very least, have them check for fingerprints."
"Will do," said Cho. "I'll call you back."
The call ended, and Jane placed his phone absently back into his pocket.
"Partridge probably changed his fingerprints on file too, you know," said Rigsby. "Even if he's been there, they may not show up as belonging to him."
Jane frowned. "I know, but if there's another set of prints, Cho's hunch might be right. And besides, if we don't cover all the bases, I'll go crazy wondering."
So would they all.
"She can still identify him by feel," said Lisbon. "That puts her in danger. Maybe we should try to find her, Jane."
He pondered her suggestion a moment. Finding Rosalind might mean finding Red John, but it would also likely lead to her death. "If Red John took her, she could be halfway across the country by now," he said finally. "But he won't be. Not yet, anyway. He still has me—us—to deal with now. In a few hours I'll be officially violating his orders, and his promised plan is set into motion."
Grace looked from Lisbon to Jane, used to these two people always having a plan. "What will we do then?"
"Nobody's gonna like my plan," Jane warned.
"When do we ever," said Lisbon, "but they usually end up working in spite of it."
"I appreciate the vote of confidence, Teresa," he said, kissing his wife's hand. "So, here it is. The first one he threatened was Madeleine. I say, we give her to him."
"You're going to use out old boss as bait?" said Rigsby, eyes wide.
"She'll be fully in on it, of course," Jane clarified. "We act like we're trying to hide from him, but let something slip, so he'll know we're still here after his deadline. Then, we wait, and we watch Madeleine's house."
Lisbon frowned. "Red John isn't stupid, remember? He's outsmarted you more than a few times. No offense, dear."
"Well, that's the beauty of it. He might even suspect what we're doing, but he won't be able to resist making the attempt anyway, he's so confident he can outwit me. We just plan for every contingency, that's all."
"What about her kids," asked Grace, looking at Maddie in her highchair. "He threatened them too. No way Hightower is putting her kids in danger."
Jane nodded in agreement. "They're in Florida with their father. Madeleine can quietly inform them to hide somewhere, make it look casual."
Rigsby looked extremely skeptical, no doubt coming from his own position of father and husband. "You think she'll go for all this?"
"Yes," said Jane. "She owes Red John, for killing her cousin, for ruining her life for awhile. And that woman is fearless."
"Especially where her kids are concerned," added Lisbon softly. "I'm only just beginning to understand what that means." Her hands went to her belly, and everyone else in the room looked on with complete agreement.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
That evening, Jane and Lisbon wore their airport disguises to meet with Hightower back in Sacramento, in the restaurant of their new motel. They were trying not to look obvious, but at the same time be readily available for any of Red John's spies to see them. It was a fine line, and they hoped they were convincing, or this plan would be over before it began.
"I'll do it," said Hightower, once Jane explained his idea in a low whisper, as the two women leaned in closer to hear.
Lisbon was surprised at her ready agreement. "You don't have to risk your life this way," she said. "There are other ways—"
"No. This is a good plan. Is it perfect? No. Could I get killed in the process? Possibly. Look, the fact is, he already told Patrick I'm first on his new hit list. Better I'm prepared, right? And you guys will be close by, watching. I'll have my own people on standby."
Jane shook his head. "The fewer involved the better, Madeleine. Rigsby's helping us out; we trust him implicitly. Let's keep this in the family."
"All my people have been thoroughly vetted," Hightower protested. "It's not the old CBI anymore."
"I'm sure," said Lisbon. "But even if you can trust them, we don't want to put anyone else or their families at risk. You know as well as we do how Red John takes his vengeance seriously."
"You're forgetting; it's okay that he knows that we know," inserted Jane, nursing his cup of hot tea. "He'll expect that. It'll be a trap within a trap, you see."
Hightower smiled. "Yeah, yeah. I know you're brilliant, Patrick. Fine. We'll do it your way. So, do we start tonight? That's the deadline he gave you, right?"
Jane nodded somberly. "It is. I don't expect he'll attack tonight, but we have to be prepared just in case. So, go on home. Get in bed and arm yourself. We'll be along as blatantly incognito as we can be."
Hightower chuckled softly. "I sure have missed you, Patrick."
"Likewise, Madeleine."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Seems like old times," said Jane as they sat in their rental car across from Hightower's house. Rigsby was in her back yard, dressed all in black, hiding behind some bushes with his gun ready, night vision goggles giving him a clear view of her patio door in the darkness.
"I'm dug in," he reported softly into his mouthpiece.
In the car, Jane grinned. Hearing his old friend, settling so easily back into state agent mode, brought back such nostalgia that he wished they were staking out some other case from back in their CBI days. Aside from all the death, destruction and obsession with a serial killer, those were good times.
"10-4," responded Lisbon. "You okay, Madeleine?"
"Yeah, I'm in bed with my gun under my pillow. I really don't think he's coming tonight, but if he does, I'm ready."
"Try to get some sleep. We're watching."
Hightower gave a small snort of skepticism. "As if I could sleep, even if the National Guard were out there."
"Night, Madeleine," said Jane. He and Lisbon settled back against their seats, linking hands across the console. An hour later, Jane jerked awake. His sleeplessness the night before, and Lisbon's general state of pregnancy without the added boost of forbidden caffeine, had allowed them both to slip into an exhausted sleep. He looked lovingly over at his wife, who was snoring quietly in the driver's seat. She'd be mad at him later, but he let her sleep. Aside from a few bouts of dozing, Jane was awake to see the sunrise.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A tap on the driver's side window jolted them both to heart-pounding alertness, Lisbon's hand going automatically to the gun in her lap. But a familiar face appeared at the window, and her heart slowed considerably.
"Cho!" she exclaimed, unlocking the car doors so her FBI boss could slip in the back seat. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I took the redeye from Austin," he said, as if that explained everything.
"But—" she began.
"He's here to help," said Jane sleepily, gratefully. "I suppose you've been in touch with Rigsby."
"Yeah. I felt like I was missing out."
A rare smile tugged at his lips, and next thing they knew, Rigsby's voice crackled over the open Walkie.
"Hey, is there a party I'm missing or something?"
"I'm sure you're used to that by now, family guy," ribbed Cho. "You probably haven't stayed up past ten in three years."
"Shut up," Rigsby replied around a deep yawn.
"Good morning everyone!" proclaimed Hightower brightly over the radio.
There was a chorus of answering greetings. "Thanks for the babysitting service. I'm going into work now, surrounding by the CBI's finest. You all should go and get some sleep."
Jane and Lisbon looked guiltily at each other, and then, as Lisbon looked over Jane's shoulder, her eyes went round with horror. She gasped, covering her mouth, then pointed a shaky finger toward the passenger side window.
Wordless, but acutely feeling his wife's terror, he turned slowly toward the window. A smiling face looked back at him, drawn with red paint—or what he hoped was paint- drip marks still drying slowly on the glass.
"Jesus," murmured Cho from the backseat.
Lisbon's hand went to the crucifix in a silent amen.
A/N: More to come! Thanks again to all you loyal, patient readers. I'm thankful for you all