Warnings and disclaimers from previous chapters still apply.
Chapter 8
When Lisbon regained consciousness her wrists and ankles were bound, and her head throbbed. Judging by the numbness in her right side, her captor had apparently dumped her on the hard concrete floor. While the sedative had worn off, she still felt groggy. Her mouth and throat felt like she'd swallowed cotton. The cuts on her hands stung, but the bleeding had stopped. She pressed them against the cool, smooth floor under her and focused on keeping her eyes closed, on keeping her breath slow.
Panic was creeping in around the edges of her awareness and she pushed it back. Instead, she clung to her years of training and experience. She needed to remain calm if she wanted to get back to her family and out of this… she paused. What was this, exactly? A cabin? A basement? Lisbon didn't want to open her eyes and give away that she was alert, just yet. She didn't want to tip her hand. Her captor may be lurking nearby, and she wanted to bide her time.
In the distance, someone cried softly. No, it was more of a whimper. Lisbon remained still, the shard of porcelain teapot cut into her wrist as it shifted in her sleeve. She was surprised it hadn't been discovered when she was tied up. She longed for her Glock, its reassuring weight in her hand, the cool metal warmed by her touch. The bullet fired into her captor. Lisbon would never miss her target in such a closed space. The shard of porcelain, however, presented a greater risk. She'd need to get close enough to do any damage.
Cautiously, Lisbon opened her eyes. Audrey was crying in the far corner of the musty room, collapsed against the concrete brick wall. Low evening light peeked through the two small windows near the rough exposed ceiling to her left. The windows were filthy but if Lisbon squinted, she could almost see outside. The street looked familiar. In between the two windows was a set of narrow, crumbling steps, leading away from a street-level cellar door. It looked heavy, but the hinges seemed to be nearly rusted through. Several dusty antique bird cages hung from the rafters. Next to Audrey, was a dark passage, but Lisbon couldn't see where it led. If this basement was anything like the basement under the teashop, then it most likely led to the upstairs storefront. Lisbon was beginning to suspect they hadn't gone very far.
"Do you know where we are?" Lisbon turned to Audrey. The girl didn't reply but her sobs grew quieter.
Lisbon rocked forward, pulling herself up to her knees. She tried to look out the window, but being unable to fully stand make it difficult.
She slipped back down and moved until she could work the sharp end of porcelain over the thick twine around her wrists.
"Audrey, talk to me. What happened at the police station?" Lisbon kept her voice even and calm, hoping to instill a sense of strength and comfort.
"Hmm?" Audrey's stare was vacant as she watched Lisbon work to free her hands. "What do you mean?"
"At the police station, when— When Teddy took you." She managed to saw through two layers of twine, but the porcelain was soft and beginning to disintegrate. Soon, she wouldn't have any sort of weapon.
"Uh, oh. It was breakfast time. Everyone went to eat, or whatever. They left Thompson behind to stay with me. He made them promise to bring food back." Audrey shifted against the wall. "A while later, he got a call and left."
"He left you there?" Something about that tugged at the back of Lisbon's mind.
"Yeah. Said something about not wanting to guard a suspect. That it was a waste of time and manpower."
Lisbon rolled her eyes at that. Judging by the scene she'd witnessed earlier that day, the local police force welcomed any reason to sit around and waste manpower. With one final slice through the twine and a forceful tug, she broke free of the restraints around her wrists. Before she started clawing at the twine around her ankles, she tucked the remnants of porcelain back into her sleeve.
"And then what?" Lisbon wanted to keep Audrey talking. The girl had practically been catatonic, and if they had any chance of getting out of this basement, she needed to keep Audrey alert.
"And then Teddy came." Audrey practically shivered. "He opened the cell. I tried to fight back but he was too strong. He had a syringe of something, I don't what, exactly. The next thing I knew, I was here."
"Did he say anything? Like why he broke you out?" The twine around her ankles was more difficult to get through. The cuts on her fingertips were starting to bleed again, but she kept at the twine.
Before Audrey could speak, the cellar door at the top of fell open in a thunderous clamor. They squinted against the bright flashlight beam as a figure hovered at the top of steps. He quickly made his way down, slamming the heavy door shut behind him. Lisbon blinked hard, her eyes adjusting once more to the dim light of the basement. She focused until her captor came into view.
Brett Partridge. Briefly, Lisbon wondered if she would have recognized him if they passed on the street. His features were drawn, his high cheekbones hollow and severe. He still had a fair complexion, but now his skin took on a sallow hue. His sandy brown hair was dyed a darker shade and was practically jet black, enhancing the deep purple smudges under his eyes. With only the beam of the flashlight, he looked particularly menacing. He looked like a ghoul.
"Oh, good, you're wide awake—both of you!" He practically sang the words as he stepped closer, a wild gleam in his eye. Lisbon kept her face neutral, refused to show any hint of fear. Not wanting him to know she'd freed herself from his restraints, she tucked her wrists away from him. "Ah, so good to see you again. Although, I must admit, as good as it is to see you, it's even better to be seen. All of this lurking the shadows, while fun, is kind of a drag."
"Such is the life of a stalker." Lisbon snarled and Partridge threw back his head in a deep laugh.
"Excellent point. But stalker is such a harsh word." He loomed over her, giving Lisbon the distinct impression of a jack-in-the-box. From her corner, Audrey sobbed and Partridge spun on his heel. "Oh, lovely-dove, don't cry. I know I promised we'd spend all our time together, but you see, Agent Lisbon and are friends from a lifetime ago and well, when I saw her, I just had to say hello."
He dropped to his knees in from of Lisbon and ran three fingers of his hand over face in a clockwise fashion before resting the pad of his thumb on her bottom lip.
"You and I, Teresa, we share something. Something deep and wonderful." He pressed his fingers above her eyes and an icy chill slipped down her spine as she realized he was tracing Red John's mark on her skin. "A sacrament, sealed in blood."
xXx
The sun was slipping behind the horizon and Jane was growing more and more desperate to find Lisbon. Once it was dark, the police would call off their search but he knew Cho and Rigsby would stay by his side, would keep pushing forward until they found her. Currently, they were poring over the evidence gathered at the scene, comparing photos of Lisbon's message in tea leaves and discussing the trajectory of blood smears.
Jane zoned out, he didn't want to hear them discussing the case anymore. Didn't know how much more he could stand, the desperation warring with exhaustion. He rolled his shoulders, the tension and fear humming through his body. He had left Nora under Van Pelt's watchful eye, and she was sending regular updates and pictures of a sleeping baby in addition to her notes regarding the gathered evidence, fully aware that his nerves were quickly fraying.
He surveyed the land surrounding his shop, taking in everything that surrounded him. While he knew the area like the back of hand, he was looking at it with a different purpose now. He was looking at it through a lens he seldom used these days. What had once been a sanctuary was now violated. His partner, his wife, could be anywhere. Jane had the distinct impression she was still within the county lines.
From his opened front door, he studied the strip of storefronts across from him. There were two craft shops, owned and operated by twin sisters Rebecca Anne and Emily Margaret. They'd once operated one shop, but after a falling out had split their business right down the middle. Next to the craft shops, a baby clothing boutique, a coffee shop, and a used book store also populated the store fronts. Lisbon particularly enjoyed the coffee shop. It was a nice little strip, and he'd been enchanted all those months ago when he had decided to open the Turquoise Teacup.
For the most part, his side of the street was pretty vacant. Of the six storefronts, only three were populated: his tea shop, a jewelry repair shop, and a leather tannery. Two of the remaining shops had been vacant as long as he and Lisbon had lived in Pescadero, while the store all the way on the end was recently empty, after the death of the proprietor, Mr. Peterson. He'd been a nice man, quiet but eccentric. Jane assumed being eccentric was a requirement when owning a small pet store, especially one that specialized in exotic birds.
It was a rather strange commodity to sell in a small coastal town, but Jane suspected his interest was more that of a hobbyist than a merchant. And Jane wasn't one to fault others on their hobbies, even strange ones. He could still remember the persistent sound of Peterson's favorite squawking parrot, Elsa. Peterson had been practically inconsolable one afternoon when Elsa had slipped down into the cellar. She'd been traumatized by the space, and it taken Jane and a couple other neighbors to both calm Peterson and coax the bird out of the dark space.
After Elsa had been safely returned to her perch upstairs, Peterson had complemented Jane on his easy manner with birds, and told him that birds are great judges of people. Birds never forget, the old man had said. At the time Jane had only chuckled and nodded, seeking a quick return to his shop. He'd wanted to shake the dust from the rather creepy basement from his rolled shirt sleeves.
Absently, Jane wondered what had become of Elsa after Peterson died and his family emptied out the shop. His son hadn't seemed particularly keen on keeping the bird… Arms crossed over his chest, Jane stepped over the threshold and peered down the line of stores until he came to the old pet shop. A single light was on in the store. Strange.
Jane turned to look back at Rigsby and Cho, then his eyes fell to the bird and three dots drawn in the spilled tea leaves. He followed the smears of blood leading to the back door and something propelled him out the back door.
Rigsby and Cho turned to watch him, familiar with Jane and his instincts. They called after him, but he didn't look up. He practically sprinted down the dusty alley that led along the backs of the stores. Each shop had an exterior cellar door with two windows on either side. Jane continued down the path, his feet barely touching the ground, until he reached the old pet shop.
Leaning down to peer through the dirty window, he caught a glimpse of a flashlight beam. But he also caught a glimpse of the person wielding the flashlight. Brett Partridge had his hands on Lisbon, on her face. Immediately, Jane saw red. A rage he hadn't felt in years coursed through him and he reached forward to pull the cellar door from its rusty hinges.
But just as his fingers gripped the door handle, a thick arm snaked around his waist and pulled him back, practically lifted him off his feet.
"I don't think you want to do that," a deep voice hissed in his ear.
xXx
Two more chapters to go!
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