Shout-Outs: NANNETTE, Chymom, WillySpooky, LouiseKurylo, DaboGirl, blueyedmentalistfan, and Jane Doe51

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Chapter 5

Patrick hated these kinds of wake up calls. The ones in the middle of the night that woke him up from the little sleep he was getting. Looking at the body of the teenage girl sprawled out in the abandoned warehouse made the miniscule good feelings from the day before disappear as quickly as they had come.

"The vic is Jill Jensen. They think it was Red John," Grace Van Pelt said, coming up to him.

"Like the smiley face calling card wasn't a big enough hint," Patrick said dryly.

Van Pelt shrugged. "I hate Red John cases," she told him.

"I know. I know, but we're going to find him," Patrick told her. "He'll make a mistake eventually and when he does, we're going to catch him. Just have a little faith."

"Faith I have," Van Pelt answered. "But this guy is good. Not one agency has been able to catch him. You haven't been able to catch him and that's what you're good at, catching bad guys who can't be caught."

"I've worked on about three Red John cases since I started working for the CBI. You've worked on one. . . and with each case, we've gotten closer to catching him. It's just a matter of time until we do."

"Jane, Van Pelt. . . stop gossiping and do your job," Bosco said warily.

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Who died and left you in charge?"

"Hightower called and asked me to head up the investigation because her husband was working a late shift at the hospital," Bosco answered. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Patrick managed to smile. "Nope, no problem."

Bosco managed to smile too. "Good, now do your psychic thing."

He took a deep breath. "Okay. Well, we already know that Red John is the culprit and the victim is female."

"Obviously," Bosco said sarcastically. "Is there anything that our untrained eye wouldn't pick up on?"

"Um, she's most likely still a teenager," Patrick answered. "She was moonlighting as a prostitute, if her clothes are anything to go by and the fact that there's a hotel down the street from here."

Van Pelt blanched, looking at the blonde at her feet. "A prostitute?"

"Some guys like them young," Bosco answered, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Jane, do you think Red John hired her and then killed her after he had gotten what he wanted from her?"

"I don't think that they had sex," Patrick answered. "Everything's still in place, her makeup is immaculate. . . I think he lured her to the hotel as a potential client and killed her. If there's one thing we've learned about Red John it's that he has a perverse sense of justice."

Van Pelt looked sicker. "Do you think he killed her because she was a teen prostitute?"

"Most likely," Patrick answered honestly.

Van Pelt looked like she was going to throw up. She'd been with them for a year, but Patrick didn't think she would ever get over this part of the job. The dead bodies, the circumstances behind their deaths. . .

Bosco sighed wearily. "Okay, Jane and Cho will come over to the hotel with me and we'll question the staff there. Van Pelt, get Rigsby and go talk to her parents."

"Okay," Van Pelt said, turning away with a little of relief.

Patrick was happy not to be her in that moment. He didn't want to see the devastation in the Smith's eyes when they heard not only had their daughter died but that she was a teenage prostitute as well. It would be too much to handle, for everybody involved.

So, he followed Bosco and Cho to the hotel and went through the usual line of questioning while the staff gave them their answers.

Yes, Jill had been there. No, she wasn't a regular customer. No, she hadn't arrived with anybody and she hadn't left with anybody either. They couldn't give the room information out without a warrant it was the Hilton after all.

By the time they had finished questioning everybody, Patrick was ready to be done with the whole thing and disappear. But Bosco didn't let him instead he instructed him to go to his favorite diner and get some breakfast.

Teresa was there waiting for him, looking a little tired as she nursed a cup of coffee and rested her chin in her hand, her eyes closed.

Patrick looked at her from the doorway. This morning she wasn't Teresa Lisbon, the inexperienced sociality in designer label. This morning she was the Teresa Lisbon she had been before her father had inherited millions, if her worn police academy sweatshirt, threadbare jeans, red Converse sneakers and makeup less face were anything to go by.

As soon as he saw her sitting in the booth, he knew that Bosco had probably roused her out of bed and sent her to meet him. She opened her eyes and yawned, then smiled when she saw him.

Somehow he found himself walking to her and sliding in the seat across from her.

"Hi," she said sleepily.

"Hey," he answered back. "What are you doing here?"

"Sam called," Teresa answered, yawning again. "He said you were probably going to have a tough time today, thought I could cheer you up. Do you want some breakfast? Are you hungry?"

"I don't know."

"Well, you need to eat. You have a lot going on and it wouldn't be any good if you went and got yourself sick from not taking care of yourself," Teresa told him as she signaled for the waitress.

"I see you have a friend with you today," she said, recognizing Patrick as one of her regulars. "I never thought I would see you with a friend, never mind a pretty thing like her."

"She's just a friend, Betty," Patrick answered, twisting the wedding ring he still wore.

He looked at it for a second. He would have to take it off soon, it symbolized something that was truly dead and buried now.

Betty turned to Teresa. "Well, Patrick's friend, what would you like for breakfast?"

"Pancakes," she answered.

Betty turned to Patrick. "And I'm assuming it'll be the usual for you, mister."

"Um, yeah, scrambled eggs and Earl Gray tea."

"Coming right up," Betty said in a bored tone.

"Sam filled me in on the case a little bit; he said it was Red John."

"It is," Patrick told her.

She took a sip of her coffee. "Do you think you'll get him this time?"

"Maybe, but probably not. He's way too careful to be caught," Patrick answered. "He'll probably survive us all."

"Don't think like that," Teresa chided. "Where's your faith?"

"I lost it a while ago."

"You have to have some kind of faith," Teresa answered. "Or you wouldn't work in law enforcement. You have to have faith in the system. And in the people you work with, if you didn't they wouldn't be any good to you."

He was silent as he looked out the window at the gray morning.

She put her hand over his. "You have to have faith in me. Or you wouldn't be here right now."

"I didn't know that you would be here," Patrick replied.

"You wouldn't have agreed to be my friend," Teresa said. "You have to have faith in your friends that they'll be there for you not only during the good times but during the bad times too. I know you have faith in me. . ."

Patrick shook his head. "But the kind of faith you're talking about is the faith you hear about in church. The kind of faith that moves mountains, I lost that when God took my daughter away."

"Maybe He needed her more than you did," Teresa answered. "Maybe He knew that the CBI was going to need your help to catch Red John."

"It seems like a lot of work and heartache just to get me to catch a serial killer," Patrick said.

"Well, nobody ever said He was going to let you off easy."

"Do you have faith?" He asked. "In Him, I mean."

"Yes," Teresa answered earnestly.

"You're a good Catholic girl. And I'm the not-so-good Catholic boy who's strayed too far from his faith to be saved now."

Teresa was saved from replying by Betty's return, she put Patrick's drink down in front of him and refilled her coffee.

"How are you today?" She asked when they were alone again.

Patrick smiled at her. "As bad as this may sound, trying to find out who killed Jill Jensen has gotten my mind off my own troubles for a while. I want her parents to have answers. Don't worry about me, I'll be okay."

"Old habits. . ." Teresa answered trailing off; she picked up her cup of coffee. "So, does Bosco know about Angela?"

"Why do you think he called you?" Patrick told her. "Not only do I have to deal with my ex-wife's engagement, I have to try and solve my third Red John case. He certainly doesn't want to deal with me right now. You're honestly doing him a favor by agreeing to deal with me."

"That bad?"

"So I'm told."

Teresa smiled at him. "I hardly believe it."

"Well, you've never had to deal with me when I'm going a little insane."

She shook her head. "Believe me; I'm not going to let that happen."

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"I have to go," Patrick told her when they had finished eating breakfast. "Thanks for coming out to see me so early. You didn't have to come."

Teresa smiled and found her keys. "It was no problem. Really."

"Well, I have to go. Duty calls and all that good stuff," he said.

She reached out and touched his hand. "It'll all be okay," she told him.

"I hope so."

Teresa hugged him then, she wrapped her arms around him and held onto him as tightly as she could. He fell into her embrace, stunned by how strong she was for such a petite woman. It lasted for a little longer than it should have; when she pulled away she looked a little embarrassed.

She fiddled with her keys and looked around, before meeting his eyes. "Well, I guess I'll see you later. I mean, we can still have lunch if you're not busy this afternoon."

Patrick swallowed, realizing he had seen Teresa Lisbon almost every day since they had met. The last time he had spent every single day with a girl, he had ended up marrying her. And he still wasn't ready to entertain thoughts like that.

He didn't think he would ever be.

But still. . . there was something about her presence in his life that calmed her. And he didn't think he wanted to give that up.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, we can still meet for lunch, if I'm not too busy with the case."

"I'll see you this afternoon then," Teresa told him. "Maybe."

It was his cue to leave, he took his keys out of his pocket and waved at her as he got into his car to go and try to catch some bad guys while he tried to forget the way this new lady in his life made him feel warm and safe.

It was almost like coming home and he hadn't found a place to call home in almost three-hundred-and-sixty-five days.

His mouth was dry and he dry swallowed, hard. He couldn't feel this way about her, it wasn't right. It wasn't fair, especially not to her. He came with a whole boatload of baggage and she had been trying to escape just that for a really long time.

His ringing cell phone pulled him out of his rumination. A quick glance at the caller ID said it was Bosco; he answered it, relieved for the distraction from his traitorous thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Jane, we may have a lead. The service that Jill Jensen was working for gave us the name of the man who hired her. Cho and I are going to interview him right now. Do you want to meet us there?"

Patrick cleared his throat. "Yes, I'll meet you there."

"Okay, I'll text you the address then," Bosco answered. "See you soon."

"I'll see you soon," Patrick echoed, clicking off so Bosco could text him the details right away.

He looked at himself in the rearview mirror, seeing only his eyes and shook his head as if to say no or talk himself down. But he would worry about it later, he couldn't let a beautiful pair of eyes and a sweet personality get in his way of solving a murder.

Jill Jensen deserved to be brought to justice.

And he was going to do that for her.

TBC. . .

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Author's Note:

It has been such a long, stressful week. My grandmother died on Monday night and we're in the middle of planning a memorial service and starting plans to remodel my dad and mom's bedroom because that's where she had been staying the last four months. Thankfully this chapter was already written or I wouldn't be posting this tonight. I hope you'll tell me what you thought, the casefic aspect has been amped up and Jane's struggle with his feelings for Lisbon is really starting now. Looking forward to your thoughts!

Love,

Holly, 1/30/2015_