Trigger warning: stalking plot. References spoilers for season 7.

Chapter 3

"I am Lazarus, come from the dead/ Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all."

Jane read and reread the two lines of poetry, adrenaline pounding through his system, making him practically vibrate with fear. Next to him, Lisbon shifted closer, Nora tucked tighter in her arms. He had the strong urge to pull his family out of that police station, tuck them into the SUV and leave Pescardero behind. Maybe it would be better if they returned to a larger city, the ability to disappear in a throng of people at any moment… Jane shook his head, pushing the thought from his mind. They were building a life here, a safe and secure home for Nora. He wasn't about to let some spineless no-name play games with his family. Running his thumb over the heavy indentation of the smiley face, Jane shook his head.

"It's not him, Lisbon. This isn't him." He refused to say the name, refused to let any of that darkness near their child. "He's dead and rotting."

Lisbon only nodded, her eyes full of concern. Jane read the verse again. Lazarus, come back from the dead.

This was not him. That corruption throughout California had been dismantled, shaking up the lives of those Jane had held dear right along with it. He had taken down the monster at the heart of the corruption, had squeezed the life out of him until his eyes turned icy blue, his face frozen in a death mask. He crumpled the paper in his fist.

"Jane?" Lisbon spoke softly, pulling him back to the present.

"Hmm?"

"If it's not him, then what's going on?"

"Clearly someone is trying to put me on the defensive." Jane frowned, reminded of a case long ago during their time at the CBI, when with Dr. Linus Wagner had murdered business partner and the wife of a professional golfer. Blonde and beautiful, she was murdered for misdirection, meant to mask the true crime. The magician's assistant. He ran his thumb over the words, his nail catching in the groove. I shall tell you all.

Abruptly, he turned and reached Audrey in a matter of seconds.

"What is this?" he leaned down, invaded her personal space and she careened back, startled. "Who put you up to this? I must say, the poetry's a nice touch. A bit more modern than I'm used to, but of course, still effective in a 'cryptic psycho' sort of way"

"Wh-what?"

"Your boyfriend," he practically spat, gaging her reaction, looking for any falsehoods. She flinched at the term and he began to ease up, a bit of tension melting away. "He threw a brick through my window with this love note attached. What do you make of it?"

"It's that poem. More lines from that poem." Audrey frowned.

"And what else?" She shrugged and Jane leaned in further, an angry gleam in his eye. "What else do you see?"

"A face. A smiley face. So what? He's got a grim sense of humor." Audrey looked around at the officers standing by. Some had wide confused faces, but some, like Caulfied, had been around years before and knew what the symbol meant.

"You really have no idea?" Jane studied her, still looking for some hint of deception. When he saw none he let out a heavy sigh and stood. She wasn't aware of any Red John or Blake Association connection. Still, something wasn't right about the whole situation. This man, this Teddy, was more manipulative and unstable than the average sociopath. She needed protection; he couldn't let the police turn her back out on the street, unguarded. And he couldn't keep an eye on her—wasn't about to bring her to his home. Whatever this was, he wanted it as far away from Lisbon and Nora as possible.

"Deputy, please let Sheriff Garson know that this woman is not fit to leave this station. I believe she had a hand in the vandalism to my property. I'd like a day or two to go over my shop before determining if I should press charges."

"Jane!" Lisbon took a sharp step toward him, stopping when Nora woke in her arms and began to cry.

"I had nothing to do with that!" Audrey bolted up, her eyes brimming with tears. "You see, this is what he does. He just… I can't get away from him." She was nearly hysterical.

Jane turned back to her and placed a gentle hand on her wrist.

"I believe you, but you need to be safe and the drunk tank in this ol' one-horse town is about as safe as it gets. After all, that's why you were causing that scene downtown, wasn't it? In the hopes of getting arrested?" She lowered her eyes but he could still see the stress in her taut posture. She was wound tight, had clearly been upset for months and the stress was taking a toll. "Audrey? Listen to me."

She leaned in, drawn in by his gentle but distant manner and by the warm, low tone of his voice.

"Tonight, when you go to sleep, I want you to have a restful sleep. Think of a warm, safe place. Think of the beach just over there, off of the horizon. The sand is warm from the sun, the ocean laps at the shore and recedes, laps at the shore and recedes. Isn't it a lovely sound? Relaxing, peaceful." She was in a light trance, docile and relaxed. He continued on. "I want you to think about that beach, about that ocean. Feel the warm sand, feel the heat of the sun on your skin. Nothing can harm you there, you're safe. Just listen to the sound of the ocean. It laps at the shore and recedes, laps at the ocean and recedes… So warm and safe." He gave her shoulder a firm, friendly squeeze, bringing her back to the present.

"What?" She blinked, wide and slow.

"Just remember what I said." He pressed his mouth into a firm line. "Rest, Audrey."

Then, turning away from her, he moved back to Lisbon.

"Officers, if you'll excuse us, it's getting late and I need to get my family home. I'm sure the young lady over there could use a hot meal and a cot." Jane pulled a blanket from the diaper bag and draped it over Nora, wanting to shield her from whatever danger lurked outside the walls—a cool evening breeze or the gaze of a madman. Lisbon met his eyes, trying to gauge his mood, and he forced a half-smile and a reassuring wink.

And then he bundled his family off into the waiting SUV before Deputy Caulfield could voice his protest regarding evidence protocol or his skepticism over the so-called suspect.

It wasn't until they'd fastened Nora in her car seat and were halfway down the road that Jane let out the breath he'd been holding since they'd left the station.

"Jane?" Lisbon spoke up. He'd heard her say his name with that inflection countless times, and the note of worry sent a pang through his chest. He drew himself up.

"Hmm? Yes, my love?" He flipped the turn signal before cutting the wheel left and onto their street.

"Do you have any idea what this is all about?"

"I think it's a game of 'wrong place, wrong time'. I think Teddy knows Audrey was at the shop this morning and just as she did a cursory Google search, so did he. Of course, he hit on other news-worthy items that she missed. Hence the note." His next words were said with a lightness Lisbon didn't' believe. Instead, her stomach dropped with worry. "Unfortunately for him, he failed to do a more in depth search or he'd have discovered just what course of action I take when someone threatens my family."

He pulled into their driveway and killed the engine.

xXx

It was nearly 10 PM, but Jane was still slumped over the dining room table, notes and papers strewn about, a baby monitor at his elbow and an empty tea cup turned over on the saucer. He had managed to fill half of a notebook with notes and theories regarding Audrey, Teddy, the T. S. Eliot poem, and anything else he could think of. He even shifted through a few memories of the days he'd spent hunting for Red John, trying to find a connection. He found none based on what limited information Audrey had offered. Of course, there was a poem involved—never let it be said sociopaths didn't go for grandeur—but there wasn't a stylistic connection between Blake or Eliot.

He sighed and looked at the copy of "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" he'd printed off the computer. It was a long work, and apparently an arduous one. Eliot had begun writing it in 1910, but didn't publish it until 1915. Five long years. Jane wondered if maybe that was a clue. Maybe this stalker had had Audrey in his sights long before she knew. Maybe he'd been planning this attack for months. But then why? Who was she to him? Just a convenient outlet for his game, or did she truly represent an interest? Jane groaned, his head in his hands. Searching and theorizing based solely on a handful of facts was feeling all too familiar. He'd left that life behind.

He heard Lisbon approach from down the hall. With a fluid grace, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to this shoulder.

"You, bent over a notebook full of your horrible handwriting? Déjà vu." She teased, but his heart dropped. Déjà vu. How he hoped not. "Come up with anything interesting?"

"Hardly. I've been reading and re-reading this dumb poem, looking for clues, but nothing."

"What about being Lazarus, rising from the dead?"

"Well, that was just his ghoulish humor, I'm nearly certain."

"Nearly certain? There's no truth to his words of resurrection?" Jane heard the hint of worry in her voice and he reached up to reassure her, his fingers running along her arms.

"It's not McAllister." He assured her, assured himself.

"OK." She pressed her lips just below his ear. "I'm not sure how I feel about you poring over notes again, writing down every thought that comes in your head. I didn't like it then, and I can't say I like it now."

"Someone threw a brick through my shop window, Teresa. A verifiable threat." He turned around so he was facing her, fury at the situation brewing in his eyes. "And if he knows where my shop is, then he can just as easily know where my home is—our home. I will do whatever it takes to protect you. To protect Nora."

"I know." Lisbon kissed him and he knew she was fighting the urge to point out that she was a trained cop. It had always been her favorite retort when he demanded she let him protect her. "It's getting late, Jane. You won't solve this tonight."

He hummed in agreement and drew her closer as she ran her fingers through his hair. "Besides, aren't you forgetting something?"

"Hmm?"

"What I told you this afternoon, before you went to talk to Audrey." She leaned back, enjoying the slight perplexed look on his face as he struggled to remember. "I told you that after you talked to Audrey you were going to take your family home."

"Which I did." He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose, recalling her words from earlier, but enjoying the chase.

"And that you could rock your daughter to sleep." He'd rocked Nora to sleep shortly after dinner, and had checked on her nearly every quarter hour—despite having the baby monitor at hand.

"Which I also did." He kissed the side of her mouth.

"And then, I believe I rounded that out with making love to your wife." She pulled him up to his feet her mouth on his, and he chuckled as she untucked his shirt from his pants.

"Oh, yes, how could I forget that."

And without another word, he scooped her into his arms and carried her down the hallway to their room.

xXx