Chapter 16: Criminals on the Loose

She didn't talk much during the flight. Once again, she was thankful for Cho's stoic, unruffled temperament.

On the other hand, she had plenty of time to think. And that alone had proved to be a torture. Because for all the distractions in the world there was an outlet to her broken heart.

She tried to focus on what mattered. The serial killer was someone from Jane's past. There was no hope tracing his acquaintances from the carnival. No hope except maybe Jane himself. His memory was a tracker on its own. In any case, there was nothing she could offer in that department.

His CBI cases though? Those she could handle.

It was late in the afternoon when their plane touched ground. They didn't plan for an extended stay, but the night was young and it was easier to navigate through the city in their own car, so they took a rental.

Again, Sacramento didn't feel any more welcoming than a few days ago. On the contrary, with every minute that passed, she realized she had never belonged here. Or to any other place. Maybe she hadn't belonged to Jane either. She sighed quietly as she emerged from the car, creating a puff of steam in the autumn air.

"Are you alright?" Cho asked her as they marched toward the jailhouse.

There had been a time she would have fended off any form of affection, especially from a colleague. Now she only shrugged.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

The door buzzed, granting them entrance.

"You didn't want Jane to join you. What did he do?"

"Honestly, I don't see how that's relevant right now, Cho." She hated talking to him like that, but talking about Jane didn't make her feel any better.

The noise fell to their footing. They passed through a set of halls, left their names and signatures at a reception area and then headed toward the information booth.

"It's not his fault, you know," Cho said suddenly.

"What?" she frowned.

"Him being the target again."

She huffed. "Cho… I know that," she answered. "He doesn't," she added shortly after.

"So that's the problem. He's being self-destructive again and you don't like it."

"Quite the opposite. He wants to quit."

Cho nodded to himself. "Typical Jane."

"Yes," Lisbon concurred. "Typical."

She leaned into the booth. A woman stood behind the desk; she was dark-skinned, dark haired, filing her bright pink nails and chewing gum. Lisbon tipped the counter with her knuckles three times. The girl turned and raised her gaze, nothing else.

"Excuse me, ma'am, have there been any breakouts during the last years?" she enquired.

"Who's asking?"

Lisbon pulled out her badge, flapped it open and let the titles speak.

"FBI, huh?" She shifted her weight to the right. "Why does the FBI care about Folsom's affairs?"

"It's related to a case," Lisbon raised her tone.

The woman examined her for a while, tasting her gum, then pulled slightly back and opened a drawer. She brought out a dossier and started flipping through its content. She blew a bubble, let it snap, blew another one.

Lisbon huffed, rapping her foot on the floor.

"No breakouts," said the girl finally, saving Lisbon from a nervous breakdown. "But there have been jail deliveries."

"What?" Lisbon stared wide-eyed, hoping she'd heard wrong. The woman faced her straight, her expression listless, but still genuine.

"Why in hell would you release prisoners?" she demanded.

The woman shrugged. "Not enough space? Anyway, they didn't release them, their sentence was simply reduced to home confinement," she elaborated.

Lisbon shook her head in dire disbelief.

Cho stepped closer to the booth. "Give us the list of the absolved."

The woman handed it over. Cho turned it around, pulled out his phone and took some screenshots, then pressed the send button. All the while she scanned the names. There were ones she recognized and ones she didn't. Drug dealers, mob lords, even murderers. Arlov, Brady Walton, Hank Draber, Omar Vega, T…

Her eyes froze, her breath caught. No, it couldn't be. She read the name again and again, as if doing so would make it disappear. The conditions of unconfinement appeared next it, along with an address. Lisbon didn't waste time. She was out of the building in seconds. Cho tried to catch up behind her. He'd either seen what she'd seen or read her pale expression, because he didn't make any questions.

Tommy Volker stared at the squared package on his living room table. A smartphone was laid next to it, along with a charger, a pair of headphones and a manual.

Community work had proven to be a useful resource. Someone could meet all kinds of interesting people. Smugglers, robbers, hackers. He had everything he needed to create an alibi. Now all that was left was to track her down. She could be any place, but by the moment he got his hands on her, literally on her, she would have nowhere to run to.

The bell rang, pulling him back to reality. He stored the phone and its parts back into the box and pushed it under the couch seat. He shuffled toward the door, stopped in front of a mirror and groomed himself. His walking stick was resting against the wall. As he picked it up, knocking came on the door. Heavy, persistent. He blinked and knit his eyebrows, staring at the white wood board for a moment. He huffed through his nose, covered the last steps and pulled the door open.

And almost lost it.

He was the same man. His eyes cold, dark; his mouth thin, venomous.

Yet so different. Scraggy, beaten, worn out. Her gaze lowered to his walking stick, his injured leg. Certainly not the billionaire psychopath she'd helped put behind bars.

After the first shock and confusion that passed through his eyes, Volker smiled at her, adding the last detail to fill his portrait.

"Age hasn't touched you, Agent Lisbon," he commended. His voice was that low, even hiss. "Please, come inside."

Lisbon didn't budge. She only examined the interior over his shoulder.

"What happened to you?" she asked blankly, her gaze returning to him.

"I'm flattered that you would express concern over my injuries."

Lisbon moved her face an inch closer. "You deserve all the pain you got and more," she hissed.

Volker didn't pose a flinch. "Aggressive and violent, just as I remember you," he commented, slightly amused.

She was about to release all her venom against him, but he stopped her, his expression becoming amicable.

"Please, how about I share my adventures in prison with you over a coffee?"

She narrowed her eyes, her first instinct being rejection. However, she got an ill premonition standing there on his doorstep, him blocking the entrance. What if he'd victimized another helpless woman? She wouldn't let him take another life.

She glanced over her shoulder. Cho was waiting for her by the car. As soon as she looked at him, he unfolded his arms and climbed the stairs to join her.

Volker saluted him. She held his eyes in warning as they stepped inside. Once in the living room, she nodded at Cho. He immediately got his gun out and pointed at Volker. The latter froze in midstep, raised his hands and sighed.

She glared at him. "Don't let him out of your sight," she ordered Cho, without lifting her gaze from Volker.

She started searching the rooms, behind doors, inside wardrobes and under beds. When she'd managed to recover nothing, she started calling for answers, asking if there was anybody at the premises. In the end, she returned to the living room. The two men were as she'd left them.

"As you can see, there's no reason to suspect me," Volker said, a little vexed. He slowly lowered his hands. "If you'll allow me…" he started, glancing between her and Cho.

She gestured at Cho to lower the gun. As soon as he was out of target, Volker bent and pulled up the leg of his pants. A monitor blinked red around his ankle.

"As you can see, I'm a red dot 24/7," he said.

"The last time we trusted a red dot, it turned out our suspect had programmed his phone to cast the same signal," Cho defended. "Why should we trust you're not doing the same?"

"Be my guest, turn over the house if you want, but first you'll have to show me a warrant," Volker said.

It was the confirmation she needed. Now she was certain he was hiding something.

"Where were you last night and early this morning?" she demanded.

"Home, shrink. You can double check with my assistant, Susan."

"You have an assistant?" Lisbon taunted. The parallel was impossible to ignore.

"Why did they let you out?" she asked, certain he'd offered a hand. She couldn't fathom that the Council had opted such a high-profile psycopath for unconfinement.

"Prison wasn't easy on me. I got knifed, beaten, mistreated. Do you know how common murder is in jail? And diseases? There was a period when seven people died from sickness. I thought I was next, but I was lucky. I've repented for my sins. I'm a changed man. The Council can testify to that."

Lisbon eyed him in disgust. Then she leaned forward and held his gaze steadily. "You may have fooled them, but I know you, Volker. Whatever you're planning, I'm going to find it out, and then I'll have you returned to jail. This time I'll make sure it's permanent."

She turned on her heel and headed to the door.

"It's really sad that a kind-hearted, forgiving woman such as yourself can't at least give a man the benefit of the doubt."

"Screw you," she spat out. She crossed the room and yanked the door.

Volker stood on his porch as she pulled the car off the pavement. He waved at her with a smile, as she drove away.

A/N: Thank you for all your reviews and kind comments! I'm sorry if the break up has upset you. I did mean to create a parallel with the episode where Vega died, because my story is kind of an alternate universe of season 7. I thought it would be fitting to add some similarities to stand as points of reference. And plus, the reason I did it is because I wanted to actually resolve their issues, something I think the show did poorly. So, please stay tuned and wait to see how it turns out before judging.

Next on: Jane acting weird.