A/N: Normally, I like to answer each and every review, but I've been so busy that any extra time goes to writing. I hope you know how much I appreciate them, and I do take the time to read every one. They are an endless source of inspiration. Thank you. In this chapter, a lot of stuff happens, but I hope you bear with me, because there is a method to my madness…

Chapter 5

"There's something I have to confess, Lorelei, and I'm not sure your boss is going to like it much. But if I am to gain his trust, I feel compelled to be honest." He took a deep breath, hoping the dramatic pause wasn't too much.

"Teresa Lisbon followed me here from California."

Lorelei's face remained blank, and she sat patiently back in the casino's restaurant booth. "Go on," she prompted.

"I swear, I didn't call her, haven't been in touch with her for months. After I was fired, I thought I had made a clean break from her and the CBI, but little did I know she has been looking for me all this time."

"What does she want?" Lorelei asked calmly.

"She wants me to go back, says she could make it so everything is forgiven. I guess their closed case numbers have gone down, and they need my help…"

Lorelei smirked. "Oh come on, Patrick. Teresa is here because she is in love with you."

Jane didn't need to act his reaction to that statement. Sure, he would have been blind to ignore her obvious feeling for him, but love? He always thought she thought of him as an annoying older brother, or maybe a close, annoying friend. Of course, he knew his own feelings ran much deeper, and since he'd kissed her earlier, he had felt her kiss him back. Passionately. But love? The very possibility made him feel warm all over, made his heart skip a beat. And just like that he knew that Lisbon would forever be in mortal danger, because Red John knew his greatest weakness.

"No," he managed carefully. "I don't think so."

She rolled her eyes, as if she had been personal witness to his years-long relationship with Lisbon. "Please. If you can't see that, I don't know how you ever made a living as a psychic. But I think you do know. I'm disappointed, Patrick; I thought you were going to be honest with us."

"What she feels for me is irrelevant," he said coldly. "I want nothing to do with that old life anymore. I've started all over before; it won't be that difficult to start again. Maybe I'll get it right this time. As for Lisbon, her being here will save me a trip to California."

"Did you hear that?" Lorelei suddenly asked a button on her lapel. She reached up and tapped the nearly invisible ear piece in her right ear. She listened, eyes still on Jane, then nodded. "Ok. I'll tell him."

"He's been listening," stated Jane, and he supposed he wasn't really surprised. But it scared him a little that he'd missed it.

"Yes," she replied offhandedly. "You have twenty-four hours to kill Teresa Lisbon, or we will take care of her. And you as well, Patrick, I'm sorry to say."

Jane felt a jolt to is heart, but in jarring contrast, Lorelei smiled.

"Just as we talked about before, we'll need to see the body." She slid a slip of paper across the table. "Call this number when it's done."

"Ok. I'll do what needs to be done."

Lorelei rose from the table. She paused near him, then leaned down to kiss him softly on the mouth, her hand resting on his shoulder. "We'll all be together soon, Patrick. It will be so worth it."

Jane didn't watch her go, but a new wave of nausea came over him.

He knew it wasn't just from the concussion.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Officer Earl Madison, please," Lisbon said into her burner phone. "I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon." She was put on hold, and she waited impatiently, pacing from the window of her hotel room to the bathroom door and back again. She tried to avoid looking at the indentation in the pillow where Jane had recently lain, but she would catch herself staring at the bed before she forced her gaze to skitter nervously away.

She wasn't sure Jane's plan was sound, mainly because there were still too many variables, too many things that had to go right for everything to work. For one thing, she needed the cooperation from her old friend in the Las Vegas Police Department. She would have to lie to him, would probably have to depend on Cho to lie for her.

"Madison here," came the deep voice on the phone. "Teresa?"

"Yeah. Hi, Earl. How are you?"

"Good. You find your friend?"

"Yeah. Thanks so much for directing me here."

His voice brightened. "You're in Vegas?"

"Yes. Staying at the Crimson Hat. Unfortunately, this isn't a social call. I need your help again. This time it's for official CBI business. I hadn't been made aware of it when I spoke to you before, but Patrick Jane has been in Vegas all this time, deep undercover. My boss, Cho knew of it, but didn't bother to tell me, so I sort of stumbled into the middle of things here, screwed stuff up a little."

"Well that sucks," said Earl sympathetically. "What can I do to help?"

"We've come up with a plan that might save the mission." She took a deep breath, praying that opening this particular door wouldn't be a mortal mistake. "Have you ever heard of the serial killer named Red John?"

There was an ominous pause, then he said: "California is our next-door neighbor, so we hear stuff here from time to time. A real sicko, painting smiley faces in his victims' blood. Jesus. That's what this is about?"

"Yeah. We're this close to getting him, but we need to obtain a body, just for a little while. You'll get it right back."

"A body? You mean a corpse?"

"Yeah. A female one. You have any Jane Does hanging around in your morgue?"

"Holy shit, Teresa. You've got to be kidding me."

"No. I wish I were. Look, you can call Agent Cho, confirm all this, but the CBI would really like to keep this off the radar. I know it's a jurisdiction problem, but we would quietly take the killer out of Nevada with no one the wiser. His base is in California anyway, so no one in Vegas would need to know about this besides you."

"You realize I could lose my job for this."

"I know. But on the bright side, I would guarantee you a job in California if that happens. Look, this is personal for me. He's killed friends of mine, killed innocent women and children. My team and I have been tracking this monster for years, and this is the biggest break we've ever had. Trouble is, he's powerful. Has eyes everywhere. One slip and Jane and I could end up dead too."

"I don't know, Teresa. This isn't—"

"Earl, please. I'm not just asking this for me. Do it so we stop this guy from killing again. Trust me; you don't want to see any bloody faces on any Vegas walls."

There was a charged silence on both ends of the connection, before she heard his sudden sigh of resignation.

"Okay. It just so happens we found a Jane Doe in an alley two days ago. Her face was practically blown off."

"Dear God."

"Yeah. Definitely not pretty. Will that do?"

"Actually, Earl, I think that would be perfect."

"I just want you to know, Teresa, that I'm doing this for you. And after this is all over, let me take you out to dinner. For old time's sake."

"Sure, Earl. I'd love to."

It was the least she could do.

"Great. And I'll get it back, right? The Jane Doe? No additional harm done?"

"Of course. We'll treat her with the deepest respect. We couldn't save her, but maybe she's looking down and seeing that her death will allow us to prevent countless more."

"That's a nice thought, Teresa. You're a good person."

She frowned. Oh, Earl. If only you knew.

"Where do you want it?" he asked.

"In my hotel room. I figured, since you work security here, you'd be able to manage that somehow without drawing too much attention. I'll talk to my partner and get back with you on the details."

"Ok, Teresa. Looking forward to hearing from you."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane knocked on Lisbon's door, this time very loudly. He saw no reason to hide her location now, given that Red John knew she was here. He felt her presence on the other side of the door, saw her shadow pass in the crack beneath it. He waved, also making sure she could clearly see his face through the peep hole. She opened the door, wigless, and let him in.

"Hey," she said. She noticed his paleness, saw him flinch as he moved his head a certain way. "You okay?"

He shrugged, then blanched again. "It'll pass. So, you find a body?"

"Yeah. Woman in the Vegas morgue with a GSW to the face."

"Ew."

"Unfortunate for that poor soul, but I think it works in our favor," she said.

Jane nodded. "Yes. Can we count on your cop friend's discretion?"

"I think so. I had to tell him it was about Red John."

Jane didn't like that much, but he saw how the cop might have needed some pretty strong encouragement. He watched her for a moment from the edge of the bed, saw her blush at his attention. Hmm. There was something else on her mind. Maybe it was their kiss, but maybe it was something else too.

"He's doing this for you, isn't he? It's personal"

"Well…" She looked guiltily away.

Then he grinned, but the usual sparkle didn't quite touch his eyes. "You had a thing with this guy, didn't you?"

"That's none of your business," she said, turning to avoid him by looking out the window.

He didn't quite know how he felt about this. Sure, he'd known of her little flings over the years—the on and off thing with Walter Mashburn came to mind-and he'd accepted that, though it pained him to think of it. But Lisbon deserved happiness wherever she could find it, and he had always believed it couldn't be with him. He wondered why he was letting it bug him so much now, this Vegas cop, to hear of a past dalliance with a man who found her so unforgettable that he'd risk his job to find a corpse for her. Jane admitted to himself that he was jealous—no, envious—that this man had had a part of her that he might never experience himself.

Except now he'd had a taste of her, and he wasn't sure if he could stop himself from doing it again, or from taking it further. Lorelei and Red John already seemed to know how he felt about Lisbon, so that excuse had flown out the window. Now, if he could just overcome his other fears.

He cleared his throat softly, tried to inject humor into the situation.

"I can see why he'd do it," he teased. "Guess it's the cop equivalent of putting a frog in your pocket, or your pigtails in the inkwell."

She glanced at him, and her eyes sparkled briefly, one enticing dimple appearing on her cheek. "Or maybe putting a pony in my office," she said wryly.

Jane felt his face warm with pleasure, along with something else. "Now that's an inspired idea."

Perhaps she wasn't so oblivious to his feelings after all.

He felt a sudden wave of tiredness, an overwhelming desire to lie down. Lisbon caught his expression, noted his paleness.

"You should take a nap," she told him. "It'll be a while yet before Earl can bring the body here."

But he had already stretched out on her bed. "What will you do?" he asked.

"I brought a book to read on the plane. I'll read and keep watch. You sleep. I'll wake you if something happens, or after four hours, which is what you're supposed to do with concussion victims."

"Okay," he said groggily, and she smiled when he didn't argue. She rose and lovingly untied and removed his shoes, setting them quietly on the floor before unfolding the extra blanket at the foot of the bed and laying it gently over him. He was already too out of it to stop her. On impulse, she kissed his cheek, and he smiled a little at the feel of her warm lips on his prickly skin.

"Sleep tight," she whispered.

"Hmmm."

She watched him for a long time before she got her book from the nightstand drawer, fully intending to read in the chair by the window. But she found her eyes drawn to his sleeping form on her bed, and soon her eyelids drifted shut, her own steady breathing matching his.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Several hours later.

Lisbon tried not to let claustrophobia overtake her. It was dark beneath the towels and bedding piled on top of her in the rolling laundry bin. Dressed in the gray coveralls of a maintenance man, Earl was pushing her from her room and down the hallway toward the freight elevator. She'd taken the place of the corpse that he'd brought to her room in this very canvas bin, and she tried not to imagine she could smell the scent of death in the tight enclosure.

But when she closed her eyes, she couldn't help seeing the body of the poor murdered woman who now lay on her bed, dressed in her clothes and blonde wig above her faceless head (necessary because the woman's hair had been red).

When Earl had removed the body bag, she'd forced herself to look critically at the deceased.

"This could be a problem," she said, frowning.

"What?" asked Jane.

"It looks like she was killed with a sawed-off shotgun. That makes a hell of a lot of noise."

Earl nodded. "It does seem hard to believe you would kill her here and take such a risk."

"You think Lorelei would know about such things?" asked Lisbon.

"Yes," said Jane. Something told him Lorelei knew her way around weapons and dead bodies. She had the face of an angel, he thought, but the eyes of a killer. And she was working for Red John, so he could take nothing for granted.

"I'll handle any questions," said Jane.

Earl and Lisbon looked at one another, and Jane felt the unfamiliar pang of jealousy. Officer Madison was a tall, handsome man, with dark hair and brown eyes. His physique was muscular and fit, and Jane could see what Lisbon might have seen in him. Jane also instantly hated the way he looked at Lisbon, but Jane hid it well with his usual pleasant smile as they shook hands in introduction.

"You sure?" asked Lisbon doubtfully.

"Yeah. Don't worry about it."

As Lisbon helped Earl with the body, the reality of what they were doing hit her, and Lisbon worked hard to tamp down her nausea. Jane had had to leave the room, while she and Earl put some finishing touches on the crime scene, splattering the fake blood Earl had thoughtfully provided on the walls and pooling it on the pillow beneath Jane Doe's head.

Lisbon and Earl had seen enough crime scenes to understand how such a gunshot would work on the surroundings, and they were particular about the accuracy. If this didn't fool Lorelei, or any other of Red John's goons, they were seriously up shit creek. Jane had said he didn't expect Red John himself to make an appearance, so it was unlikely they'd be able to trap the killer there and simply arrest him.

"I guess this will have to do," said Lisbon, after washing her hands in the bathroom.

"I hope so," said Earl skeptically, but he didn't say anything negative.

"Hey," she said, reaching up to touch his face. "Thanks for this. You really are going above and beyond."

Earl's boyish, slightly crooked smile was as charming as she remembered. His warm brown eyes had once made her forget for a while another pair of eyes, blue- green and full of mischief. That's what had gotten her into bed with Earl, she recalled. Well, that and several shots of tequila.

"You'll make it up to me at dinner," said Earl slyly, and bent to kiss Lisbon on the cheek. The gesture was sweet, but Lisbon felt nothing, and she knew her date with Earl wouldn't go beyond dinner.

As Lisbon climbed into the laundry bin, she prayed this would all pay off, that it would lead to Jane's infiltrating Red John's organization, that she would be waiting in the wings to arrest the bastard before Jane committed murder. He'd made her no promises on that score, but he'd been clear enough of his intentions in the past.

She felt the bumps as Earl pushed the laundry bin into the freight elevator, felt the floor drop as they zipped down to the first floor loading bay. From there, Earl would take her by truck to a safe house he'd arranged for her. She'd wait there until Jane called her on the burner phone he had given her.

"You okay, Teresa?" Earl asked softly in the elevator. She let out her breath, having remained quiet in case someone else had been in the elevator with them.

"Yeah. Sorta stuffy in here, though."

"I can imagine," Earl said sympathetically.

For authenticity, she'd left her purse, her personal phone, her suitcase, and all the belongings she'd brought with her back in her hotel room with her dead alter ego. Even her Glock. She'd have to ask Earl if he could get her another weapon.

The elevator door slid open, and the slight squeaking of the wheels resumed again as Earl pushed her down the hall toward the loading bay.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"This is Patrick Jane," he said into the phone as he waited in the stairwell of the eleventh floor. "It's done."

"Where is she?" asked Lorelei.

"In her hotel room."

"How do you expect to get a body to us from a crowded hotel room, Patrick?" She didn't sound too happy.

"The opportunity presented itself," said Jane, "and I couldn't pass it up. Just come up here and confirm, and your boss can tell me the next step."

"Hold on," she said. The line sounded dead for a few moments as Jane was put on hold. His heart was pounding in his chest at the gamble he had taken. He hadn't done exactly what he'd been told, but he had to be able to pull off this ruse on his terms to cover up the lie. If Red John sensed a trick, if he didn't go for it, all his work would be for nothing.

As he was taken off hold, Red John's raspy, high-pitched voice filled his ear. Jane's blood ran cold at the sound that had filled his nightmares.

"You wouldn't be trying to trick me, would you Patrick?"

"Of course not," Jane replied, hoping Red John couldn't hear his accelerated breathing. "I'm done with games. I did what you asked, now I just want to get the hell out of this place." It wasn't difficult to inject a little panic into his tone.

"Calm down, Patrick. I'll have Lorelei come up to Agent Lisbon's room to evaluate your handiwork. Meet her in the hotel lounge in twenty minutes."

He disconnected and Jane hesitated. This was cutting it short. He peered through the square window of the stairwell door, where he had a direct line of sight to Lisbon's hotel room door. He hadn't told Lisbon about this part of the plan, but once she'd mentioned the problem with the corpse's gunshot wound, he knew he'd had to do something.

Jane paced back and forth on the eleventh floor landing, glancing every thirty seconds through the window. He glanced at the time on his phone. Five minutes after Red John had hung up, he saw the maid make her way down the hallway, her hands filled with towels. He'd told her to use her pass key to bring them in, that he was showering.

When the door closed behind her, Jane began to count. At ten, he heard a blood-curdling scream.

With a satisfied smile, he trotted down the eleven flights of stairs to meet Lorelei.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You can come out now," Earl said, after Lisbon had ridden, hunched down in the back of the laundry service van for several miles. She got up and walked, hunkered down from the low ceiling, to the front of the van and sat in the passenger's seat. She saw that they had left the city and were now driving into the desert.

"Where are we going, exactly?" she asked, clicking on her seatbelt.

"There's a new housing addition east of town, still under construction except for one model home. It's the only house hooked up to electricity and water. My sister's husband is the construction foreman. I went by for a visit and stole the key."

"Oh," she said, and a mile later, he turned off the highway onto an eerily empty street. It was like a ghost town, with some homes seemingly completed, while the skeletons of others bleached like old bones in the hot sand. The only landscaping consisted of cacti and brush. No workers were in sight, though a loan Port-a-Potty sat in the middle of the street.

"These are spec homes," he explained. "In the current housing market, there's not any money to continue, so construction's been halted for the foreseeable future. No one should bother you here for now. The house is fully furnished, but I stopped and got you a few groceries."

"Thanks, Earl. I can't believe you went to all this trouble for me."

"You're worth it, Teresa," he said fondly, and he reached out and touched her bare arm. His touch made her shiver, but not in the way she suspected he would have liked.

He's just not Jane, she said to herself.

He stopped at the end of a cul-de-sac and pulled up into the driveway of a single-family, Spanish-style, split-level house. The roof was even tiled in terra cotta.

"Here we are," he said, then hopped out of his side of the van. She joined him at the front door and he unlocked it, then disarmed the alarm with a security code he seemed to know by heart. Inside the house it was like an oven, the air still, dust moats stirring as they entered. Earl immediately went to the thermostat to crank up the air conditioner.

Lisbon took the bag of groceries and went into the kitchen to unpack. Milk. Bread. Lunch meat. Cereal. Eggs. A few frozen dinners. He joined her in the kitchen.

"So," he said, "I'll go back to the casino. Call me when Jane is done with the body and I'll pick it up. You think you'll be all right here?"

She looked around at the cold, designer furnishings and shrugged. It was obvious no one had ever lived here.

"This is great, Earl. Really. I can't thank you enough."

He bent and kissed her on the cheek. "You're very welcome."

She watched him stride back to the foyer, pausing by the door to re-engage the alarm system.

"What's the code?" she asked curiously.

"Don't worry about it. I'll be back before you know it. See you later, Teresa," he said with that crooked grin. "Start thinking about what kind of restaurant you want to go to when this is over. The sky's the limit."

She chuckled. "I will. And you'll bring me a gun?"

"Sure thing."

And then she was alone.

She took out her phone, saw there were no messages from Jane. What's more, she was dismayed to see there was no cell service. She ran to the door to see if she could catch Earl, but the alarm system stopped her. The last thing she wanted right now was for the police to come. She watched through the front window as the van drove away, and she tried to tamp down her sudden misgivings.

"Don't screw this up, Jane," she said aloud to the emptiness.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"I screwed up," said Jane breathlessly to Lorelei.

"What?" she said, as he joined her at their usual booth.

"A maid came. I'm sure she called the cops."

"Wait. Slow down, Patrick."

He explained how he was just about to come down to meet her when he saw a maid use a key and enter Lisbon's room. He ran an agitated hand through his hair, wiping at the sweat on his brow.

"I killed her," he said, sotto voce. "Lisbon. She's dead on her bed, and they're gonna know I did it."

Just then, a pair of security guards hurried past them to the elevator. They could hear reference to a victim on their Walkies.

"See?" he said frantically.

Lorelei remained cool and calm and Jane could see why Red John kept her working for him. "You did screw up," she said wryly.

"Come on. Let's go. I'm sure Red John will want to talk to you in person about this."

"I didn't want this to happen," said Jane as he followed her toward the elevator. When the door opened, she pressed the Garage level.

"I figured you would help me hide the-the body."

"That was the plan. But it sounds like plans have changed. Red John told me trouble tends to follow you."

"You sound like Lisbon," he said. Then his face fell. "Like she used to sound."

As they left the elevator, Jane hid his smile as he followed her to a sleek black Towncar.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

There was nothing to read in the model home, but at least there was a television. It had only a digital antenna connection, but it enabled her to at least watch local channels. She filled a bowl with cereal and milk, sat on the uncomfortable white couch and flicked on the flat screen. She tuned in to an old sitcom, but at her second bite of cereal, breaking news scrolled across the bottom of the screen. She leaned forward, squinting at the TV.

A maid discovered a body in the Crimson Hat Casino Hotel. More details as they become available.

"Dammit, Jane!" she said, over a mouthful of Frosted Flakes.

This was not good. Not good at all.

A/N: I promise, more romance to come next chapter. Hope to see you back again soon.