Warnings in previous chapters; all typos/wayward commas my own.
Thank you for all the comments! I truly appreciate every last one of 'em! Now, on that note...
Chapter 7
After a warm, albeit stunned, welcome from Lisbon and Jane, the trio quickly got down to business. Van Pelt found took over O'Brien's empty desk while Rigsby and Cho dug through evidence bags gathered from the various vandalized locations, as well as Audrey's personal items. Van Pelt pulled out her laptop and several tether cords, hooking up and plugging in. Caulfield and his team looked on, confused by the invasion.
"What's your WIFI password?" She wiggled and stretched her fingers out over the laptop keys.
"Uh, now just wait a minute," Caulfield began to protest.
"Dirty Harry," Jane interrupted and everyone in the room went still. Most notably, Caulfield. "That's the password. But the 'I' is a '1'. All one word, lowercase. Bit of wishful thinking, am I right?" Jane raised an eyebrow at the deputy who only turned pink.
"How, what. But how?"
"It was pretty obvious." Jane waved a hand, vaguely. "If only you'd told her the password up front, I'm sure I would've made her day." Jane grinned, momentarily enjoying flustering the other man.
"Hey, it worked!" Grace shouted.
"Look, I don't know exactly who you people think you are, but I am in charge," Caulfield took a step forward. No doubt he was trying to figure out how best to explain what all had gone down on his watch, once the sheriff returned from his two week vacation in Tahiti. It had started out so promising. Nothing ever really happened in this small, quiet town.
"They're also FBI consultants," Cho headed off Caulfield's protests.
"I know you think us simple folk, down here, Agent Cho, but four consultants to one agent seems like a screwed up ratio."
"I don't think you're simple folk, Deputy." Cho folded his arms over his broad chest. "I think you're in over your head and I think it would be in your department's best interest if you accepted our assistance and expertise."
"And just what sort of assistance can four consultants and one agent offer us?"
"I understand your reluctance, but a girl is missing. We don't have time to waste." Cho stepped closer. "If, when all is said and done, you would like to file an official complaint with the FBI, I can't stop you. In the meantime, we'd appreciate it if you'd let us help you."
Caulfield stared at Cho long and hard before giving a quick nod of agreement.
"Well, now that everything's all squared away," Jane took a long look around the room, "what do you say we start by looking into our missing witness?"
"Suspect," Thompson piped up, red satchel still in his grip.
"Potato, tomato." He gave a dismissive wave. "Grace, what do you need?"
"Audrey's phone, for starters." She bent over her laptop, logging in and accessing various databases.
"Well, her phone is in a dozen pieces, so I hardly see how that's going to be of any help." Caulfield pulled open a box and fished out a plastic bag containing Audrey's personal belongings. Rigsby then dumped it on the empty table, retrieving the small evidence bag containing a broken phone and handing it over to his wife.
In addition to the broken cell phone, the bag contained a well-worn purse made of light purple leather. A few crumpled receipts, a hair brush, and a melted stick of Juicy Fruit spilled out of it. Jane pulled a dark pink canvas wallet from the outer front pocket. Inside, he found an Ohio ID, two credit cards, some loose change, a five dollar bill, and a stub to The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari from an art house cinema in San Francisco.
"OK, so Audrey's phone is a cheap burner, but the SIM card inside can help us pinpoint where the last call originated from." Grace hit a few key strokes and paused. The WIFI in the station wasn't the best. "The call came from… Huh. That can't be right."
Jane leaned forward, looking over her shoulder, at the screen.
"Well, that's not exactly unexpected." Jane sighed, his back cracking as he stood back up.
The last call to Audrey Collins, the call that had caused her to shatter her cell phone, originated from behind The Turquoise Teacup.
xXx
Despite Jane's protests, Lisbon went with Rigsby to explore the area behind the tea shop. The front window was still boarded up from the vandalism the night before, and the surrounding land had been thoroughly searched by the police. They were just about to give up when something caught her eye—the plastic shell of a cell phone under discarded packing debris.
"Hold up, Rigs," Lisbon motioned him over and he pulled out an evidence bag from his inside jacket pocket. It was felt very familiar and Lisbon almost smiled. While she was grateful for her family, and how far she and Jane had come, sometimes she missed her old team.
"I'll get this back to Grace right away. I'm sure she can figure out something useful."
"I hope so. A side benefit of finding Audrey is finding the creep who took her." Lisbon was getting pretty tired of cryptic notes from psychopaths—that was an element of her old life she didn't miss.
"Sure thing, boss," Rigsby gave a quick nod before heading back to the car to call Grace. Lisbon smile and wondered if he was aware he'd called her boss. Maybe she wasn't the only one having a dash of nostalgia.
Out of the corner of her eye, Lisbon spotted an older woman waving at her. The woman was waving pretty enthusiastically and moving quickly in her direction. As she got closer, Lisbon recognized her-she was Mrs. MacAuley, one of the women who frequented the tea shop. She was older, but still sharp. Lisbon had caught her taking several long looks at Jane. Under normal circumstances, she would've greeted the woman warmly, but she was exhausted and wanted to get back to the station, back to her husband and daughter. Something about the teashop unnerved her, tonight.
"Oh, Teresa, dear." Mrs. MacAuley pressed a hand to her chest, catching her breath. "I'm so glad to see you're alright."
"Yes, we're fine," Lisbon forced herself to remain polite, knowing woman's real concern was Jane's safety, and the likelihood of The Turquoise Teacup reopening. Of course, despite it all, she did like the woman. Mrs. MacAuley had good taste in tea and men.
"Good, I'm so relieved. That was quite a ruckus last night. So frightful." She patted Lisbon's arm. "And it's good your insurance appraiser was so quick to come out. My niece had a shop down in Santa Barbara, the stockroom caught fire. Took them five days to come out. Some people, my dear, some people."
"Appraiser?" Lisbon asked, confused. They hadn't called their insurance company. In fact, Jane had been too distracted by the notes to even think about calling anyone. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He did think to call Cho. They were lucky the neighbors had been nice enough to board up the busted window. Lisbon spun around to look up at the shop.
"Well, Teresa, I really should be on my way. I hope Patrick opens the shop back up soon, I'm already running low on jasmine oolong." And with a final wink and friendly squeeze to Lisbon's arm, the woman made her way back into the direction she came.
Lisbon moved closer to the tea shop. As she approached, she noticed that while the window was boarded up, the front lock was busted. She didn't need to use her key. With an easy turn of the latch, the door creaked open. Lisbon cast a glance over to the SUV where Rigsby still stood, phone to his ear.
The tea shop seemed to be in a good state, despite shards of glass still littering the floor. One stream of sunlight made its way through the boarded window. Dust motes danced in the tea scented air. A tea set had been destroyed and was in pieces under the display case. It was one of the hand-painted sets Jane had imported, a dusty purple with muted clouds along the sides and trailing up the spout. She bent down to pick up the spout, the porcelain smooth in her hand. She wondered if Jane would be able to replace the set with something similar, it really was quite beautiful.
Suddenly, Lisbon realized she wasn't alone in the shop. A sharp creak in the floorboards put Lisbon on full alert. She clawed at the waist of her jeans out of habit, forgetting she no longer carried a weapon. She could with a special license, but she seldom carried these days. It wasn't as necessary as it had been when she was in law enforcement. Now, she was greatly regretting it.
Lisbon stood slowly, palming the spout in her hand. It might be her only weapon, if the need arose.
"Excuse me." She paused and rolled her eyes at how polite she sounded. "Show yourself, this is private property."
No one replied. Lisbon waited a few moments, now sure she'd only head the wind. Or maybe a cat had snuck into the shop. With a sigh she turned. But before she could take a step, an arm snaked around her from behind, curled along her waist and pulled her backwards. He was lean but strong. She struggled, attempted to stomp on his insole but the man only chuckled and moved out of her way.
It was a sound that sent cold shivers through her body. It was a sound she'd heard countless times before.
"Why, hello, Teresa. It's been so long." His breath, hot and stale, practically filled her lungs. She twisted and turned, falling to the ground and taking a glass canister of tea down with her. Glass shards went everywhere. As he pulled something from his jacket pocket, she reached behind her and ran her fingers through the piles of loose tea leaves, hissing when she snagged her skin on glass. With a quick hand, she drew what she hoped Jane could decipher. If nothing else, it'd prove she went down fighting.
Her attacker loomed over her, arms reaching down to grab her swinging legs. He held her down to the floor. He was stronger than she remembered—but then again, she'd rarely given him any thought.
Just as she was about to arch back and land a jab to his ribs, she felt a sharp stab at her neck.
Everything went dark.
xXx
The police descended on The Turquoise Teacup ten minutes after Rigsby called in a missing Lisbon. But Jane arrived five minutes before the police. To outsiders it seemed as if he was well contained, but to those who knew him, Jane was frantic. He worried his thumb over his wedding band as his eyes darted over the scene. His pulse thrummed as the police, Rigsby, and Cho, moved around him.
There were several smashed tea cups and a couple broken tea kettles. Judging by the trajectory of the pieces, those items were broken the night before. Instead, Jane was drawn to a glass container of loose leaf tea tipped on its side.
"Look, Jane," Rigsby spoke softly, worry and guilt heavy in his voice. "I'm sorry about this. I didn't think. I should've never let Lisbon out of my sight. She taught me better than to leave my partner out in the open. It was just-"
Jane held up his hand to forestall more rambling. There was something drawn in the spilled tea leaves. It wasn't artful, or grimly precise, like the other notes. This was more rudimentary. This had been written on the fly. Teresa. Jane dragged his eyes along the path of tea leaves. A few smears of blood marked the way and Jane swallowed down the bile that threatened at the back of his throat. His eyes snapped back to the shape drawn in the leaves, round body, stick legs, a beak. It looked like a bird. A bird with three dots arching above its head. He wondered if those were accidental. A sign of three.
Something familiar scratched at the back of his mind. Scratched and clawed to get out. For the second time that day, he ran through the suspects from the Red John case, and this time he included McAllister in the mix, choosing to leave no stone unturned. Then, he mentally flicked through the case notes surrounding each demise until he stopped. Until he remembered.
Frantic, Jane ripped the creased print of "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" from his suit pocket and scanned down the final few stanzas, catching a few random lines before stopping…
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
Rigsby winced as Jane reached out and clutched his arm.
"I know who took Lisbon."
xXx