After announcing their "break up" to her, Jane seemed to regain some of his equilibrium. He started actively participating in cases again. He resumed bringing her pastries. Most importantly, he confided in her again.

Lisbon was relieved, but wary. He didn't flirt with her so much as he had. When he did, she couldn't help reacting with a certain stiffness. The memory of the weeks after Bosco's death intruded painfully at such moments. Things might seem normal on the surface, but she knew better than ever that she couldn't rely on him. When the chips were down, he hadn't been there. She had no reason to think he'd stick around the next time things went wrong, either.

He occasionally stood too close to her the way he used to, but made a point to step back when he caught himself at it. He never touched her anymore.

They'd been at a high school reunion a couple weeks earlier, investigating a case. Jane had unexpectedly asked her to dance.

Lisbon had shot him a look. The man so paranoid about Red John's spies that he made her scout a dark hospital hallway for cameras wanted to dance with her in front of a hundred people?

"Come on," he protested, correctly interpreting her expression. "What are the odds he would have sent a minion to spy on us at a high school reunion in the middle of nowhere?"

Typical Jane, she thought furiously. Caution only mattered when he, Patrick Jane, deemed it more important than his latest whim. She stalked away without answering him.

Jane had been subdued for days after that. He cast long looks at her when he thought she wasn't looking and hunched himself miserably on his couch, ignoring the team.

He'd recovered his spirits on their latest case, however. Fast cars, mysterious gifts, and beautiful women. Just his speed.

Lisbon, on the other hand, was preoccupied by Rigsby and Van Pelt's unwelcome confession that they were a couple now. If Hightower found out, Lisbon was going to be the one to take the flak, she was certain of it.

"You've got quite the dilemma on your hands," Jane remarked as they walked down a hallway searching for the apartment of their latest victim's boyfriend. "To tell on Rigsby and Van Pelt or not to tell on them. All the while wondering whether your decision is being influenced by your jealousy and resentment."

"Where the hell is 4B?" Lisbon grumbled. She could feel a headache forming behind her eyes. She was so not in the mood to tolerate Jane's philosophical musings on her personality flaws.

"Mm," Jane said, stopping. "This one."

A loud banging noise came at them from behind the door. Lisbon drew her weapon and Jane scurried out of range. She tried the knob. It was open.

"Jeff Sparhawk?" she called.

Upon entering, she found a shirtless man smashing a guitar against a coffee table. "Mr. Sparhawk?" She lowered her weapon. "You wanna put down what's left of your guitar?"

Sparhawk dropped the guitar on the floor and lowered his head.

Now that the coast was clear, Jane appeared at her elbow. "I'll make tea," he announced.

Sparhawk was a bundle of nerves, twitching with miserable, anxious energy. A jealous man, Lisbon surmised. With a dose of resentment that his girlfriend had been the breadwinner in the relationship.

He buried his head in his hands. "I never deserved her," he groaned, pulling at his hair.

"Oh, stop," Jane said. "Self-pity will kill you." He met Lisbon's gaze. "Take it from someone who knows."

They left Sparhawk a few minutes later. "He has no alibi," Lisbon said as they walked back down the hall.

"You can dispense with the cop talk, Lisbon. You can tell me what's really bothering you."

She scowled. "Nothing's bothering me."

"Mm-kay," Jane said in that superior tone of his.

"Nothing is bothering me!" she insisted.

"Message received," Jane said, nodding with exaggerated sincerity. "Nothing's bothering you. Sparhawk has no alibi."

"Right."

He opened the door for her and followed her out onto the street. "The millionaire sounds interesting," he said idly. He was referring to a man who had given their victim an expensive gift before her death.

"Yeah," Lisbon agreed as she crossed the street. "I'll have Van Pelt check him out."

She got in the car and called Van Pelt. But when she hung up, she found she couldn't let it go. "I am not jealous and resentful," she told Jane. "That is nonsense."

"Yet you recall my exact words," Jane said mildly. "There's no shame in it. I feel that way too, sometimes. Why does everyone else get to have a normal life?" His gaze landed on hers as he said this last.

The words fell between them like wet cement.

She glared at him. "There's no dilemma," she said shortly. "I can hardly report them. Given the history between you and me, that would make me the biggest hypocrite on the planet."

"Ah, I see," Jane said, regrouping. "You're worried about them."

"I'm worried about my team," Lisbon corrected him. "If the brass finds out, one of them is going to have to leave the unit."

"You'll get in trouble, too, if you don't tell on them," Jane mused. "Insult to injury."

"I'll take the heat," Lisbon said. "I just don't want my team to be split up."

"Meh. Who's going to find out? Maybe young love will win the day."

"These things have a way of coming out when you least want them to," Lisbon said darkly.

"Don't be so gloomy," Jane chided her. "You and I had a secret affair for months and no one found out."

"Yeah, because of your paranoia and maniacal control issues," Lisbon said. "Somehow it's difficult for me to imagine Rigsby being quite so stealthy."

Jane chuckled. "Well, I, for one, am rooting for them. They should enjoy the time they have together, however long it lasts."

"Yeah," Lisbon said, subdued. Her head still ached.

xxx

The millionaire who had given Liselle the expensive piece of art was named Walter Mashburn.

Jane and Lisbon tracked him down at a private club in Marin County, the sort of place with twenty dollar champagne cocktails and an irritatingly discreet staff. Thanks to Jane's usual brazenness, however, not fifteen minutes after they arrived, they found themselves eating lunch with Mashburn and his date on a terrace with an ocean view.

"I liked Liselle," Mashburn said thoughtfully, taking a sip of his drink. "Smart woman. Damn shame."

"You gave her an expensive gift?" Lisbon probed.

"Yes," Mashburn said matter of factly.

"Were you sleeping with her?" Jane asked.

Mashburn snorted. "If I slept with everyone I gave gifts to, I wouldn't get any work done." His gaze landed on Lisbon. "Or any sleep, for that matter."

"You propositioned her and she said no," Jane said.

Mashburn leaned back in his chair and eyed Jane with a speculative look. "Perceptive. You're a psychic, aren't you?"

Jane was busy tucking in his expensive lunch. "What makes you say that?"

"You have this charlatan air about you."

Lisbon couldn't help smiling at that. Jane met her gaze and his eyes danced with merriment. She shook her head at him, still smiling.

"My second—no, my third wife was into all that mystical goop," Mashburn told Jane. "You learn to recognize the type."

"How many wives have you had?" Lisbon couldn't help asking.

He shot her a charming smile. "Enough to know better." He leaned forward and grinned at her. "I'm currently unattached."

Lisbon looked pointedly at his date, a beautiful blonde more interested in her phone than in the conversation. Lisbon tried to get the interview back on track. "So were you sleeping with Liselle, or not?"

"Not," Mashburn said. "That print was a reward for finding me an Austin two-seater from 1960. There were only a few hundred made. She earned that gift."

"And the appointment you had the day she died?"

"To pick the car up." Mashburn's eyes twinkled at her. "You want to see it?"

"No, thanks," Lisbon said dryly. She couldn't believe this guy. Not only was he hitting on her while she was interviewing him under suspicion of murder, but he was doing it right in front of his date.

"I'd love to," Jane piped up.

Mashburn held up a finger in Jane's direction, signaling for him to wait. He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Lisbon. "You have a damaged intensity that's quite attractive."

"Mm, true," Jane murmured his agreement, still working on his lunch.

Lisbon drew back. What the hell kind of pickup line was that?

Mashburn's eyes didn't leave hers. "Let me buy you a drink sometime."

"I live in Sacramento," Lisbon said repressively.

Mashburn was undeterred. "I have a jet!"

Jane looked highly amused. "Oh, you're very good. Very good. I have one question. Did you kill Liselle?"

Instead of answering directly, Mashburn made a show of taking them down to his boat. He turned to Lisbon. "Would you like to go for a ride?"

"We get it," Lisbon said. "You're an energetic man. You like danger. So why bring us here?"

"I have no love of danger," Mashburn said. "Nothing's dangerous if you think ahead. If you plan it right, you can—" he stopped himself with a smile. "I was going to say you can get away with murder. But you know what I mean."

"Okay. So what's the point of showing us your fancy toy?" Lisbon asked.

"This is how I live my life." Mashburn gestured to the expensive boat and the expansive ocean before them. "If I had killed Liselle, do you really think I would have stuffed her in the trunk like some low rent thug?"

"How would you have done it?" Jane asked.

"She would have just disappeared," Mashburn said. "Like smoke. Like she was never there."

"You enjoy being a murder suspect, don't you?" Jane said.

"Am I? A suspect?" Mashburn said.

"Of course," Jane said. "Could be you're a sociopath, could be that killing is a thrill you can't buy. Not a lot excites you anymore, does it, Walter?"

"Patrick," Mashburn said, climbing into his fancy boat. "If you really think I'm a killer, then there's only one thing for you to do, isn't there?" He grinned as the driver started the engine. "Try and catch me."

With that, the boat sped off into the distance.

xxx

Halfway back to Sacramento, Jane said abruptly, "You should go out with him."

Lisbon frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Walter Mashburn," Jane said. "You should go out with him."

"He's a suspect," Lisbon said flatly.

"Meh," Jane said dismissively. "I'm seventy percent sure he didn't do it."

"Very reassuring," Lisbon said dryly.

"So?" Jane prompted. "How bout it?"

"How about what? I'm not going out with a murder suspect."

"This all about those silly rules you cops have to follow, isn't it?" Jane said, wrinkling his nose.

"They're called professional ethics, and no. Well, yes, it is about that. But even if it wasn't a huge ethical violation for me to date someone I was investigating, that's the least of it."

"What are your other objections? He's handsome, charming. Most women would consider him quite a catch, I daresay."

Lisbon snorted. "Yeah, well, they can have him."

"Seriously. Let's say we clear him and he's no longer a suspect. You still wouldn't go out with him?"

"No way."

"Why not?

Lisbon made a face. "He's rich."

Jane rolled his eyes. "Yes, heaven forbid a man take you someplace nicer than the nearest sports bar. What's so terrible about being rich?"

"You heard him. 'This is how I live my life.' Please. Expensive toys and completely disconnected from reality."

"Reality is overrated," Jane told her. "You could do with a bit of pampering. What else?"

"What else, what?"

"What other reasons do you have for not going out with Walter Mashburn?"

"The guy's been married at least three times!"

Jane shrugged. "So he's an optimist and a romantic at heart."

"That's your takeaway?" Unbelievable.

"Certainly. He hasn't met the right woman yet, but he keeps trying. Optimist."

Lisbon shook her head. "Whatever."

"Any other objections?"

"Those are literally the only three things I know about him, and they're all deal-breakers," Lisbon pointed out.

"That's only because you're being close-minded about the whole billionaire thing," Jane said. "Once we exonerate him, you should give him a chance."

Lisbon frowned. "Why are you pushing this?"

"You need to get out more." He paused, then added reluctantly, "Divert suspicion."

"Are you kidding me?" Lisbon said, incredulous. "That's what this is about? Red John?"

"Not…entirely."

What a load of sheep dip. "Why? There isn't even anything happening between us anymore."

"Fat lot of good that's going to do us if Red John thinks you're the one pining," Jane said. "You should get a boyfriend."

There was that word again. Pining. Lisbon resolutely ignored this. "You're being absurd. I'm not going on a date to throw Red John off a scent that doesn't even exist."

"I'm sure Mashburn would be an attentive lover, if that's what you're worried about," Jane remarked.

Lisbon clenched her jaw and didn't speak to him the rest of the ride.

xxx

She didn't see Jane most of the rest of the case. Which was a good thing, because she wanted to kill him even before he drove a $300,000 car off a cliff. He did solve it, however, with the help of Walter Mashburn, no less. Lisbon shook her head when Cho told her how the whole thing went down at the dealership, but she crossed the case off her open cases board with her usual sense of satisfaction nonetheless.

Jane called an hour later. "Hey, Lisbon."

"Jane."

He cleared his throat. "Listen, I'm sorry about earlier."

Lisbon waited, but nothing more was forthcoming. "Okay…"

"Cho told you what happened at the dealership with the salesman?"

"Yeah. He's processing the guy now."

"Great. Listen, can you help me with something? I owe the guys at Organized Crime a favor and they're cashing in."

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What kind of favor?"

"We-ell…remember last month when I riled up that mob boss?"

"Vividly."

"Organized Crime smoothed it over for me so no men with baseball bats would come after me and my kneecaps."

"What does this have to do with me?" Lisbon said impatiently.

"They need someone to go undercover at a swanky club in San Francisco tonight. They want me and you to help. I told them I'd talk you around."

"Jane," she protested. "It's been a long day. I'm off the clock."

"Please, Lisbon? They're still mad at me over that little joke I played on Samson a few weeks ago. If you come along, it will go a long way toward buying back some good will."

Lisbon sighed. "Fine."

"Great. You still have that little black dress from the last CBI fundraiser in your locker from when you picked it up from the cleaners?"

"Yes…"

"That's perfect. Get dressed and meet me downstairs in twenty minutes." He hung up.

Lisbon wondered why she put up with him and went down to the gym to get dressed.

Twenty minutes later, she stood outside the entrance to the CBI building and shivered. The temperature had dropped considerably in the past two hours, and she felt chilled in her sleeveless dress. She should go grab her leather jacket from inside. She pulled out her phone to text Jane to let him know she was running back inside for a moment, when an obscenely expensive car pulled up in front of her.

Lisbon stared. It wasn't Jane. It was Walter Mashburn.

"Teresa!" Mashburn hopped out of the car and came around to greet her. He kissed her on the cheek. "I'm so glad you changed your mind."

Lisbon started at the kiss on the cheek. "Mashburn?" She drew back. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to pick you up for our date," he said cheerfully. "Patrick said he would put in a good word for me, and I can see he's as good as his word."

Jane. Of course. If someone didn't want to give him his own way, he'd just wait until their back was turned and manipulate them into doing it anyway. Namely, her. "He said that, did he?"

He paused. "He didn't tell you?"

"Not so much."

He eyed her cocktail dress. "Did you think you were going out on a date with him?"

Lisbon snorted. "Hardly."

"What did he tell you, then?" Mashburn asked, intrigued.

"He told me the Organized Crime unit needed help with a sting," Lisbon said sourly.

Mashburn laughed out loud. "Well, I must say, if I were a criminal, the sight of you in that dress would certainly encourage me to confess all my sins. Should we cruise around and see if we can find any likely characters? I assure you, criminals of all persuasions are likely to be susceptible to you in that dress."

Lisbon laughed despite herself. "No, thanks. This is just Jane's idea of a joke. I'd better go back inside and change."

Mashburn tsked. "You're already dressed up. Seems a shame to give up and go home already."

"It's been a long day," Lisbon said. "My pajamas are sounding good to me right now."

Mashburn perked up. "They sound good to me, too. But after dinner. Come on, I'm here, and you're already dressed. I know you think I'm a shallow cad, but go out with me anyway. You've got to eat, and it'll be fun." He grinned at her. "I'm excellent company."

What the hell, Lisbon thought. "All right. But nothing that involves a jet, okay? I have to work tomorrow."

"I'll have you home by midnight," Mashburn assured her. "Mind you, I'm hoping you'll decide to invite me in and ravish me once we get there, but that part's up to you. This pumpkin will beat the clock." He patted the hood of the car fondly.

Lisbon eyed it as he opened the door for her. "Pretty nice pumpkin."

"Ah, so you do appreciate the finer things in life after all," Mashburn said, delighted.

"Oh, hush up and drive," she said, sliding into the buttery leather seat. "I'm hungry."

Mashburn paused. "In that case, maybe you'd better drive."

Lisbon looked up at him from the passenger seat. "Seriously?"

"Why not? It hardly seems likely that two employees of the CBI could lose me cars by driving them off the side of a cliff in one week." His eyes twinkled at her. "And if they did, it'd make a hell of a story. What do you say? Want to get behind the wheel?"

Lisbon unbuckled her seatbelt. "Hell, yes."

xxx

Mashburn did, in fact, turn out to be excellent company. He took her to an intimate restaurant with amazing food, amazing wine, and even more amazing dessert. It was nice to go out with someone uncomplicated, with no hidden agenda whatsoever. Mashburn's agenda wasn't remotely hidden. She found this both flattering and refreshing. She surprised herself by enjoying herself more than she would have thought possible.

When he took her home at the end of the night, she thanked him for a wonderful meal, but did not invite him inside.

He looked at her intently. "When can I see you again?"

Lisbon shook her head. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"Why not? You enjoyed yourself, didn't you?"

"I did."

"So what's the problem?"

She made a face. "Isn't there a saying about this? The fish and the bird?"

"Ah, yes, but there are flying fish and birds that swim, so I fail to see your point."

She laughed. "Good night, Walter."

Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him. It was a nice kiss, soft and sweet.

He kept his eyes closed for a moment after she pulled away. When he opened them again, he declared, "Well, now I definitely have to figure out how to get you to go out with me again." He fixed her with a look. "I warn you, I can be very persistent. Prepare yourself."

Lisbon rolled her eyes and waved him off.

She went inside, unexpectedly content.