Jane continued to absent himself from their regular cases more often than usual in the months immediately following Bosco's death.
Lisbon didn't press him about it, too weary to engage in a futile effort to persuade him to do anything counter to his own inclination.
Besides, she had other things to worry about. Their new boss, Madeleine Hightower, was a hard ass, and after a rocky start, Lisbon was still deciding how she felt about her. She normally appreciated toughness in a leader, and Hightower was definitely smart, but Lisbon didn't appreciate Hightower's willingness to throw her under the bus for Jane's behavior. Hightower had backed off somewhat since the beginning, and Lisbon had developed a grudging respect and admiration for her, but she was still treading lightly.
Jane stopped bringing her coffee and pastries. Stopped checking in on her when she worked late. He ignored her calls.
Lisbon set her jaw and resolutely refused to admit she missed him.
Then, very much as he had done all those months ago, he turned up at her hotel room one night when she'd stayed behind to wrap up some details on an out of town case after the rest of the team had gone back to Sacramento.
"Hey," she greeted him stiffly when she opened the hotel door in response to his quiet knock. If he thought she was in the mood for a booty call after the way he'd given her the cold shoulder after Bosco's death, he didn't know her at all.
He pushed his way past her. "We need to talk."
Lisbon shut the door behind him. "Come in," she said sarcastically. "Make yourself at home."
He turned to face her. "We need to stop seeing each other," he said abruptly.
She stared at him. This is what he'd come out here for? "Newsflash, Jane. We aren't seeing each other."
He waved a hand dismissively. "You know what I mean."
"No, I don't," Lisbon said flatly. "If you're talking about our 'arrangement,' I hate to break it to you, but we haven't been seeing each other for the past three months. Why did you suddenly decide you needed to announce this to me now?
He shifted uncomfortably. "I thought it would be better if we made a clean break."
Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Very chivalrous of you, after avoiding me for the past three months. That really clears things up."
"I haven't been avoiding you," Jane protested. "I've been busy."
Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look. "Doing what?"
He hesitated. "Thinking, mostly."
Her eyes narrowed. "About what?"
"Red John."
"Imagine my surprise," she muttered. "What about him?"
"What if he killed Bosco not because of Carter Peak, but because of you?"
A sharp pain lanced through her chest. "What do you mean?"
Jane fidgeted. "What if he figured out you're important to me, and then that Bosco was important to you? What if he killed him to send us a message?"
It took her brain a moment to register what he was saying. Jane really thought Red John had killed Bosco because of her? "No," she said, breathless with the horror of it. "You're reaching, Jane. Bosco found new evidence. Red John killed him because he was getting too close." Her rational mind believed this—it was far more plausible than Jane's paranoid theory. But she knew the idea that Red John had killed Bosco because of her would now haunt her until her dying day. She hated Jane for putting that thought into her head. She swallowed hard. "You have no reason to think that."
"I have no reason not to think it," Jane said, with his usual maddening logic. "The point is, it's too dangerous for us to spend so much time together."
Lisbon didn't have the energy to argue with him. "Fine. It's over. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."
A flicker of pain flashed through his eyes for a moment before he put his mask in place again. "Good," he said curtly. "We're agreed, then."
Belatedly, it occurred to her that he might have wanted her to talk him out of it. Well, if that was the case, it was too damn bad. She was fed up with his doublespeak and too tired and sad to deal with his guessing games. "Guess so."
Jane cleared his throat. "Ah—good night, then." He crossed to the door and opened it. He cast her a searching glance over his shoulder, then crossed the threshold with his head bowed.
Lisbon said nothing and closed the door behind him.