Chapter 24 – The Truth

The crisp light of dawn was also the light of budding hope. She hunched her shoulders against the morning cold and buried her hands in her beige coat. At 7.00 am in the morning, the streets were still waking. The smell of fresh dough sprang from random bakeries, early shopkeepers rolled their shutters.

The church was pressed between brownstone flats, its towers splitting the sky. White marble stairs arched around the entrance. She climbed from the side, crossed herself once she stepped inside. It was a comfort to feel warm air on her nose and cheeks, to smell the incense.

The Sunday morning service had not yet started.

She took a seat in one of the pews and bent her head over her crossed hands to say a prayer.

After a while, she heard steps. With the corner of her eye, she saw a priest's surplice wave on the aisle toward her. He came and stood over her. For several seconds. Confused, and slightly annoyed, she raised her head and looked at him.

She jumped, cursed through her lips, averting her eyes.

"You came early child," Jane said with pomposity. "Perhaps something's troubling you."

"Who the hell did you steal the priest robes from?" she whispered through gritted teeth, eyes fixed on her hands.

"Just pretend to answer," Jane said under his breath, his eyes roaming the sanctuary.

She cleared her throat, straining to regain her composure. "Yes, Father. I came to confess."

"This is great news. Through confession comes salvation. Come, follow me."

She rolled her eyes, then got up and walked after him.

He had even found a hat.

"This is blasphemy," she pointed out, as they entered a separate chapel within the church.

"Call it necessary evil," Jane muttered, his voice busy. He double-checked the door, the area around the chapel, then took two cushions and set them in the confession stalls, as if to say "Sit comfortably. This will take some time."

She adjusted herself in the small cubicle, placed her elbows on the side arms and crossed her fingers, waiting. Jane took his position, closed the door. A harsh sound as he cleared his throat. She sensed his hesitation, his dread as the moment neared that he would bare his soul. It was kind of funny how the roles where in fact reversed. He would do the confessing, and she the listening.

"Is she really alive?" Lisbon asked the first thing that mattered. It had occurred to her during the night that Jane would have left the message before knowing whether Vega had managed victory.

"Yes she is."

"You saw her?"

"Wylie did. He was there, hiding until the killer would leave, then he helped her down."

She sighed, closing her eyes. "Jane, we must tell the others. Cho is—"

"I know, I know. Believe me, I hope as much as you that this will be over soon."

His voice was quiet, calm. There was a sense of imbalance in the air between them. It was there in his humbleness, his reluctance. He had wronged her, and now things felt as though they would never be the same. But there was also relief. The truth would finally come forward. No more playing. She felt as though the actual story would be a lot different from the one she thought was reality.

"So," she said. "Your message mentioned something about truths."

"Yes."

Seconds of silence.

"I'm listening," she pressed, growing impatient.

He smiled shyly. "I don't know where to start."

"Start from when you figured out the entire plot on your own and chose to shut everyone else out," she suggested, not trying to filter the bitterness in her tone.

"Right, that part."

She nodded.

"I had suspicions of course," he said.

"Of course," she echoed.

"They started right when we found that the girls hanging upside down was a meaning of itself. Not even a suspicion back then. A mere passing thought. And then Wylie confirmed that the motive was personal, that the killer was someone from my past, you and Abbott started considering it was one of my cases—it was all fitting the puzzle."

Jane's voice caught that distant disembodiment, the one that informed his company that he was no longer talking to them, but he was lost in his thoughts.

"I don't follow you, Jane. What puzzle?" Lisbon asked quietly, trying not to break his focus.

"Remember, Lisbon. Who was the one criminal we caught based on a card game? A criminal revealed by the sole means of a drawn tarot card, the card of the hanging man?"

"Or better yet, which was our first ever case together?"

She trekked through her memory, linked events with faces. Until finally, the realization shot through her mouth. "Nathaniel Kim? The detective?"

His silence confirmed her.

"But Jane, he is dead. He was one of the seven that Volker mentioned died in prison."

"Or did they, Lisbon?" he challenged.

What he suggested was hard to fathom.

"Think about it," he prodded, "what are the odds seven deaths occur almost at the same time, and then no death at all? A disease would have left a trail. And then what are the odds that all those who died were specific cases of mine?"

"There were six people at the farmhouse," she recalled, her voice but a whisper. "Those voices, I knew they were familiar."

"Exactly."

Some of the names on the report she remembered. The thought that they were behind this made her stomach churn.

"I don't remember all of them."

"The women," Jane started, speaking slowly, "Brenda Shettrick and Lindsay Hendrix, the hypnotist."

That snake, Brenda.

"The men—Walter Demunn, the prison guard and rapist that was blackmailed by the FBI to take Lorelai away; Jason Cooper, Brett Stiles's second in command; Marc Odenthal, the lawyer that knew how I worked and cost us our loss at the trial because of a teacup with my fingerprints; and of course, Linus Wagner, the Red John copycat."

"It was never one serial killer," she realized.

"Well, it must have been Nathaniel's idea. He had plenty of time to study me in prison. A few conversations with Marc and Wagner and he would be able to create a first basic profile. Years of serving prison with them, and he would know my every thought."

"He didn't strike me as the vengeful type back then."

"Prison changes people. A couple of fights, mistreatment, humiliation, and you start thinking who did this to you."

"What would the others bring into the game? Why did he include them?" she wondered aloud.

"Well, they could have simply chanced on the same diner table. And then they did all share their hatred for me in common. But I guess, Brenda knew our connection and our work as a team, since she used to work with us. Lindsay and her unique skill in hypnosis would be an asset. Walter offered the muscle. And Cooper, he would keep the girls calm, help them visualize."

"Regina Ivers, the waitress we caught. She was never Nathaniel's disciple, was she? She was Lindsay's all along."

"Most probably."

"So you found out who was behind it. Why not just tell us? We could have given their mugshots to the media, make it difficult for them to step in the sunlight."

"It was only speculations, Lisbon. Mentally I was sure, but physically there was no proof, no trail to follow. Without proof, I knew Abbott wouldn't be concerned with finding the others once we caught Nathaniel. And just catching Nathaniel wouldn't bring an end to it. Wagner could take the mantle, perhaps Cooper after him. I would spend the rest of my nights in fear of their next strike. I could only play this game for so long. No, I needed a simple working plan that would bring them all in the same place at the same time. But in order to allure all the rats out of their holes, you need to leave a generous loaf of cheese. These people, what they all wanted most was to see me fail by my own methods. They thirsted to cause my downfall, to see me suffer. So that's what I would give them."

He paused, took a breath.

"But in order to focus on my plan, I had to push you away."

"Well, you certainly nailed that."

And just like that, they had arrived at that part. She sighed, fidgeted in her seat. The pillow was slippery so she pulled it from under her and placed it on the side. Only that narrowed her space. Defeated, she held it in her arms, which made her feel like a little girl with her teddy bear. Jane waited for her to settle.

"I am sorry, Lisbon. I never wanted to cause you pain."

She huffed through her nose, knew a simple sorry wouldn't cut it this time.

"You crossed a line, Patrick", she said quietly. "You actually hypnotized me against my will. You could have simply shared the truth with me back then. We would have solved this as a team, without endangering other people's lives."

She hated how this had become so personal so quickly.

"You're right. Hypnotizing you was cowardly and unfair. I was so afraid that you wouldn't listen to me. I could not let you replace Vega, Lisbon."

"You did not trust me enough."

"No, no Teresa, I trusted you. It's myself I didn't trust. I couldn't have a clear head if I was to worry about your progress. And honestly, I observed you all the time since it was decided that you would take her place. You did a good job fooling all the others—even yourself—but I could smell your fear, your nervousness. We both know how you're scared of confined spaces. So I was afraid you would not be able to keep calm or play pretend under those circumstances. Perhaps I was wrong. But I couldn't live with the possibility. So I did the most arrogant thing and hoped that you would forgive me one day."

"I don't—know if I can forgive you this time, Jane. Erasing my will—this, this is a big deal for me."

"I understand. It's okay," he said the exact words he had used on the night of his love confession. And then, "I won't force you to. I don't mind if it takes years."

She could not have this conversation anymore. "Let's focus on the more important matters."

"Alright." The hurt he tried to conceal was not lost on her. He cleared his voice again. "I realized that in order to give them what they wanted, I would somehow have to both make sure Vega would stay alive and be able to fake her death. I could not achieve that by myself. So I visited Wylie at the hospital. I knew I could trust him because he is in love with Michelle, he would do anything I told him to save her. Even keep secrets from you."

"But how could Wylie help you?"

"Wylie ran an anonymous search on the land properties of each of the seven, until he located the farmhouse."

"Wait, what?" she interrupted him. "You knew the location? Jane, we could have sent a detail! Would have saved us all the interactions with the veteran, not to mention how sooner things would have ended!"

"I didn't want you to send a detail. Because I wasn't sure I would find all of them there. In fact, even if I told you, you wouldn't be able to send much. Our reinforcements were wiped in the course of a night if you remember. SWATs and SDPD all removed from the game at once. Telling you would have only removed my advantage."

"You must have enjoyed fooling us, didn't you? When you asked Abbott to send you along with one of the containers, so you would 'send us the location' from there. Such a courtesy of you."

"I had to make contact with Vega in order for my plan to work. The operation with the containers was my best chance. My amusement didn't last long anyway. It was when you announced that crazy idea of yours to sacrifice yourself. I was a little angry with you then. Because there I was, desperate to save you, and you desperate to kill yourself."

"I would not kill my—"

"You don't know that."

"So what? You threw a tantrum, went live on TV?" she asked, reminding him of his shenanigans.

"This was another thing. I had to make sure that when Vega was fake-drowned, you wouldn't have immediate access to her, because you would realize that she was actually alive. Which meant I couldn't let the killer attempt his planned locations for the drowning. And since we didn't have enough muscle, getting the media on the scene would provide enough coverage for him to be scared away."

She remembered one of their early theories when this roller-coaster of a case had started. "To make a serial killer change his pattern, you have to make him think that pattern is figured out."

"Correct. While I was faking a tantrum, I also bought two burner phones to be able to communicate with Wylie once I was at the farmhouse. So after I hypnotized you, I called him, and he hacked into the compound's power system, caused a mini explosion, enough to cause a distraction. I was able to talk with Vega then, told her the entirety of my plans. She agreed to help me. She shares your heroic qualities,"—a smile in his voice, then gone as quickly—"I gave her your breathing device, your gun, and one of the camouflage mirrors. Also some candy bars but that is not relevant."

"My gun?"

"That's where the lost button comes in. I pulled the fourth button and placed it on the ground near the container. Other than a message to you, I also did it because I needed the killer to be absolutely certain that he had me all figured out. Once he found the button, he would realize I was there and he would open the box to check on Vega. He would search her…"

"But his search would stop once he found the gun," Lisbon concluded, a smile of satisfaction climbing on her lips.

"And the most important stuff would be hidden under the glass."

"But anything could have gone wrong. What if he decided to take her body with him? Like a trophy?"

"Except now he knew his location was exposed. He couldn't risk someone finding him while he struggled with Vega's bonds."

"You were so certain all this would work," she remarked.

"Oh with Vega I could have faith. Not that I don't care about her or that you're not capable enough, it's just… she's not the only reason that keeps me alive."

A lump developed in her throat. "Don't be ridiculous."

He sighed. "The rest you know."

There was a moment of silence, as she gathered herself, let all the facts sink in.

"I can't believe this was all just a big fat con of yours. I was sleep-deprived, and all the time you could have simply relieved me of my burdens!"

"Well, I hoped the detail with the vest button would."

"Yeah well it wasn't clear enough. It only came to me yesterday. Almost missed the appointment today."

"You're here, is what matters."

"I'm here. So what happens now?"

He slid a phone through the window. She caught the blue of his eyes as he bent. "Now you're going to take this burner phone and wait for my call. I expect one of them will come in contact with me in the next days. When they do, I'll give you a place and time, and you'll bring reinforcements. Can you do that?"

She took the phone, stared at it.

"That's it? Just a call and it's over?"

"Yes, it is that simple."

"Somehow this worries me."

He chuckled; a warm, pleasant sound. "I tell you the absolute truth, and still you're worried and doubtful. What's the way with you woman?"

She smiled. "Ha-ha."

The light mood gave way to seriousness. "Be safe," he told her.

Something stirred in her heart, as if invisible chains loosened their grip. Selfishness fought with affection. Until the latter won.

"You, too."

She spent that day isolated, zapping through TV channels, catching on some much needed sleep. She was glad there wasn't much work so she wouldn't have to lie into her colleagues' faces. She considered calling in sick the other day if this was going to take long.

But later that night, as she barely shrugged her clothes off to take a shower, her phone pinged.

There was a location and a room number, just as Jane had instructed. But the most outraging of it all was the time.

Now.

She almost sprained her ankle on her way out. She hit the call button for Abbott, but he wouldn't pick up. As she slid into a cab, she finally managed to reach Cho.

"Lisbon," he said.

"Cho, there's an emergency. I can't explain from here. Meet me at Motel 6 Room Number 5 on Hollister Street. Bring reinforcements."

A pause as Cho registered, questioned, then finally said, "You got it."

She stepped off the taxi on a quiet street, a yellow motel in front of her. There was no sound other than the electric buzz of a malfunctioning neon sign on the lobby that read 'No vacancy." The air had a soft chill.

The rented SUV was parked on the sidewalk. Her heart squeezed in fear that she was too late. She knew it was reckless of her to proceed on her own. But if Jane was in danger, at least she could earn them some time, before real help arrived.

She had hardly walked three steps before she heard the distant ringing of a phone. She patted her pockets, panicked she would betray her position. But it wasn't her phone. She went still, eyes roaming the street. It was ridiculous, but she would swear it came from the car.

She approached slowly, her hand on her gun. She rounded the vehicle, taking cover in the shadow it created, checking from window to window. Until finally she spotted it. A flickering phone screen on the bottom of the rear seat. An unknown number. And an unknown device.

The unmistakable sound of a gun safety trigger ripped the midnight air. She froze, as the solidness of metal nudged her back. She could feel the presence behind her, caught the frame of a man on the window reflection.

And then the man bent to her ear, his face coming into full view. Terror overwhelmed her. His voice brought a shiver, the hiss of a reptile.

"Hello Teresa. You have no idea how long I've thirsted for this moment," said Tommy Volker, not disabled at all after all, not a 'changed man' and certainly not in home confinement.

A/N: Yep, new chapter so soon! So the truth was delivered. I hope it was satisfying for you and not totally confusing. Also, the last few chapters might have had a lot of parallels to the Crimson Hat episode. I could not avoid it, since the situation was so similar, so I embraced it. The case will be completely resolved in the next chapter, but there will also be an epilogue after that. I realized I didn't say it much lately but it goes without saying-I'm beyond thankful for all your comments and feedback.