Warnings in previous chapters. All typos/wayward commas my own.

Chapter 6

When they arrived at the police station, Caulfield was hunched over his desk, telephone cradled to his ear. Jane couldn't make out the words, but judging by his expression, the person on the other end of the line wasn't impressed by the department's loss of a suspect. Behind him, Officer Thompson was stretched out on the floor, face down. He had his thick arm stretched under the narrow space below the heating system, a dark red velvet satchel clutched in a meaty paw. In the far corner of the station was O'Brien, his feet propped up on the empty shelf of a bookcase, arms crossed and chin tilted to his chest as he dozed in the afternoon sun.

"Great to see the Keystone Cops so hard at work," Jane drawled, his annoyance building. It was no wonder Teddy was able to infiltrate the station and kidnap Audrey. Or, as the case may be, that Audrey was able to escape on her own. He sat the car seat down gently. Nora had managed to sleep through the entire car ride and he preferred she stay asleep. Lisbon and Cho stood off to the side, equally puzzled and annoyed by lackadaisical environment. This sort of slapstick buffoonery would never have happened on either of their watches.

He watched as Lisbon stepped up to Caulfield's desk. Judging by her ridged posture, she was growing more and more livid as the seconds ticked by. Jane almost felt sorry for the guy. He'd been on the wrong end of that glare more times than he could count.

"Yes, sir, I'm a bit confused as to why you're interested—" Caulfield's ears were tipped in pink. "Well, I hardly think that's necessary, Agent—" The deputy held the phone away from his ear and gave it the once over before dropping it back in the cradle. "He hung up. Which one of you called in the cavalry to rip me a new one?"

"That'd be me," Cho answered. "Of course, that was before the witness escaped, so that whole 'getting ripped a new one' is on you."

"Cavalry?" Lisbon spun around. Jane rocked forward on his feet, a small measure of stress slipping away from him.

"Abbott, I presume. Judging by Caulfied's address of rank and general demeanor. Nothing quite like a dressing down from Special Agent in Charge Dennis Abbott, I think we can all agree."

"What's going on here?" Lisbon turned between Jane and Cho.

"I took a few days leave. He had questions." Cho's tone left not room for comment.

"What did he say?" Lisbon turned back to Caulfield.

"Just that he expected updates. And that I was to give his agents all the resources they needed, which is funny to me because I've yet to see an actual FBI badge from any one of you."

With a well-honed deftness, Cho pulled his badge from his back pocket and held it out.

"There. Satisfied." It was more a command than a question.

"What about these two?" Caulfield folded his hands in front of him. "Now that the feds are involved, I can't let local citizens interfere. You understand."

Before Jane could protest, Cho answered smoothly.

"They're hired consultants with the FBI."

"That right?" Caulfield didn't seem too impressed.

"Yes."

"Got any paperwork that says so? I like to keep things official with the boss is away, you understand."

"I can see that." Cho cast a long look around the room and Jane bit back a grin. Thompson was still trying to fish something out from under the heating system, this time with the assistance of a yardstick. O'Brien was drooling down his uniform, practically in a REM cycle. "Tell you what, I'll show you the paperwork when you show me the witness of an ongoing stalking case that's crossed several state lines and is now within federal jurisdiction."

That gave Caulfield pause. "Ah, I guess I can overlook it this once." He stood up, ran his hands down his wrinkled shirt, and adjusted his gun belt. "And since when did she become a witness and not a suspect?"

Jane moved over to the empty cell and studied it. He touched nothing, cataloging the scene with a sharp eye. The bed looked slept in, the still pillow dimpled from her head and the blanket tossed aside. The cell door was ajar, but that meant nothing. No doubt the Keystone Cops had messed with it immediately after seeing the cell was empty. Jane turned an eye to the perimeter of the cell, his brain whirling with all the possible ways she'd been taken—or escaped. As he made his way along the far right wall, something small and shiny caught his eye. From afar it looked like a pebble but it was too smooth. He stooped down for a closer look. A bead. Without a thought to evidence handling, Jane picked it up and held it to the light. In the hot fluorescent light it glistened blood red.

Behind him came a sharp crack of the yardstick and a satisfied shout from Thompson. Nora woke with a startled cry. Dozens of red beads spilled out from under the desk and heating system, running in rivulets across the dusty linoleum floor.

"Finally got 'em!" Thompson stood slowly, no doubt sore from his time on the hard floor. He held up the yardstick and satchel before giving a shrug. "No use crying over spilled milk, and all that."

Jane watched the beads move, equally mesmerized and horrified.

"O'Brien!" Thompson shouted, causing the other officer to practically fall from his chair. "Get a broom and dustpan, then help me sweep up this evidence."

Jane held up his hand.

"Evidence? These beads are evidence?"

"Sure. This bag was full of them. Found it in the cell, right on the bed." Thompson pointed. "Like a trade or something. You ever seen Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom?" He tossed the bag between his thick palms.

"Jane?" Lisbon stood next to him. Her worry permeated the air between them. No doubt she was still concerned by his reaction to the note on their kitchen window, as well as his nervousness around Nora. With a gentle tap of his fingers against her wrist, he sought to offer her comfort.

"I know who took Audrey. I know what this is all about."

"It could just be a coincidence, Jane."

"I don't believe in coincidences." After all the recent cryptic messages, there was no way a bag of red beads, practically identical to the bead he'd put on an FBI agent all those years ago wasn't yet another message.

"Jane." Lisbon leaned closer to him, trying to tether him to the present.

This all felt too familiar, too surreal. How stupid could he have been to assume they were safe, that he would ever truly be free from his past crimes? Of course he'd left a trail of fresh enemies in his path while hunting down his great white whale. After all, not all of his suspects had been left for dead…

"Cho," Jane spun around, fighting to keep his nerves from fraying. "I need to know the whereabouts of Reed Smith."

xXx

"Reed Smith is in solitary confinement. Apparently he doesn't play well with others." Cho flipped through his notes from his call to the supermax. "Who'd have guessed?"

"So it couldn't be him then." Lisbon leaned her hip against the nearby desk and he could tell she was growing exhausted. She looked up at Jane. "You don't seem too surprised by any of this."

He murmured softly and tapped an index finger to his lips before moving back over to the empty cell in two quick paces.

"No, of course not. It couldn't be him." His words weren't directed anyone in particular. "This entire set-up, from the girl, to the notes, to the beads, has an air flamboyance. It's too showy. And Reed Smith is definitely not about show. His method of attack would be with fists. Maim first, ask questions never."

In his mind's eye, Jane flipped through the case files from long ago. They were dusty and yellowed, but still there just the same. He doubted he'd ever forget even the most minor detail. Of course, over the years the pain of his family's murders, of hunting down their killer, had lessened.

He'd relearned how to be member of society. How to be a husband, a father, how to be a man. He put down roots, bought a house, and opened a shop. He learned how to stop running. And aside from his guarded breakdown that morning, had been pretty successful. He'd even been known to let little baby Nora out of his sight without getting sweaty palms. But with this old threat coming back in this new form… Well, he was more driven now than ever to protect his family.

Mentally, Jane dusted off one of the last files during his hunt for Red John. It was all seven of his suspects. He removed McAllister from the list. No use in wasting time exploring that avenue. That monster was dead. Next, he removed Reed Smith. Also a waste of time.

Of course, that left him with five remaining suspects. All of whom where, one way or another, dead. Or he'd thought they were dead. Was it possible someone had survived? He'd be so hell-bent on killing Red John, he'd never thought to stick a mirror under anyone's nose. Maybe someone had been faking.

Brett Partridge had been gutted like a trout by Red John. He'd bled out by the time Jane got there. He pushed the memory of Lisbon, unconscious on the floor, her face bloodied in that damn smiley face.

Bob Kirkland had several rounds in his back. Not an easy feat to bounce back from.

Brett Stiles had been dying. Regardless of the outcome of the explosion in Malibu, Stiles surely wouldn't have survived the last few years.

Ray Haffner had also died in the explosion in Malibu. Jane almost felt bad for the guy, but he'd mixed his business in with Visualize. Had claimed the cult saved him as a troubled youth. Haffner definitely wasn't as on the straight and narrow as he liked to pretend.

Gale Bertram. Jane had seen that man die right in front of him. Had even gloried in it, a bit. The man had built himself up like a god, making his fall from grace all the more satisfying.

All suspects were accounted for, with only Smith alive and breathing in solitary confinement. None of this made sense… Unless that was part of it? Maybe the answer was right in front of him. Jane reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumbled print-out of the T. S. Eliot poem, scanning it for clues. Nothing stood out.

Behind him, Lisbon shifted as she held Nora in her arms, feeding her an evening bottle. Cho leaned up to look out the station door as an SUV pulled into the dusky parking lot. Two car doors slammed shut and Jane turned towards the sound. Rigsby and Van Pelt.

"About time you got here, I thought the drive from San Francisco would be quicker." Cho stood and greeted his old friends.

"Yeah, well, we had to drop Maddie off with the sitter." Rigsby clapped Cho on the back. "I know it's been a while since you lived here, but California traffic is still pretty terrible."

"So is your driving. That I'll never forget." Cho smirked as Van Pelt gave him a quick hug. Then, the three of them, the old CBI team, turned to face Lisbon and Jane. Lisbon looked slightly stunned while Jane was more than a little touched.

"Oh," Cho spoke after a couple beats. "Did I forget to mention I made two phone calls?"

xXx