A/N: The problem with updating this daily? I'm running out of things to say in author's notes. I'm sorry.

Thank you to: Angelic dEvil xo, autumnftw, Frogster, yaba, boutondor, dwennie, Ebony10, Sarcastic Pygmy, mbleiva24 and Famous4it for reviewing part twelve.

x tromana

Part Thirteen

"You're not seriously going to just sit there and listen to her, are you?"

"Yes, why?"

Rigsby looked at Jane as if he had gone completely mad. Lisbon was his boss and she'd given him a direct instruction. It would be absolutely ridiculous to go and do the complete opposite, just because Jane thought it was a good idea. She'd be absolutely livid if he did.

But it was Jane hunches were almost always unerringly right.

He narrowed his eyes as Jane pulled on his jacket, seemingly not caring about the fact that he was about to blatantly disregard what Lisbon had said barely seconds earlier. And they were dating. That was just heading towards a minefield of problems. Especially as their relationship had never been that steady in the first place. Their divorce said as much and he had been very surprised to hear that Lisbon had agreed to take him back.

Rigsby knew that better than most, especially after Hightower's intervention.

It seemed strange that she had one rule for Jane and Lisbon and another for him and Van Pelt though.

Of course, it wasn't his place to question the director's leadership skills. It wasn't any of theirs. If they wanted to work for the CBI, they simply had to accept it and move on.

It was hard, seeing Van Pelt every day and not being able to touch her, to hold her. But it was better than nothing. And they both had their careers.

And they were moving on.

"Right," Rigsby answered, deciding on the spot that if Jane had a suitable explanation, he'd help him. If he made some sort of sense, he would be willing to drop what he was doing in favor of helping him. "Explain first."

"No time."

"Jane, she's got to get the warrant first. You really think something could happen to her there?"

Jane rolled his eyes. Explaining was never his forte.

Showing, however, was far more his style.

"It could be a trap."

"That all? It's a dumped car."

"Exactly. What's so dangerous about that?"

"Ah."

000

"There's nothing here."

Jane kicked the car out of frustration, not that it did much good.

He didn't even strike it hard enough to hurt his toe.

He should have persuaded Rigsby that taking the car would be a more suitable option. Walking ate up too much precious time, too much energy.

Lisbon could be anywhere by now.

Almost literally.

He shouldn't have let her go on her own. Yes, he'd been shadowing her recently, almost excessively, but it had been for her own good. Even at night, he'd refused to leave her alone in the bedroom just in case the improbable happened. That had annoyed her quite a lot, but she let him get on with it.

Trying to explain otherwise to him required too much energy on her part.

And now, because he'd bended to her whims just this once, the improbable had.

"She could have just…"

Jane raised an eyebrow in Rigsby's direction and he immediately clamped his mouth shut.

Where Jane was looking at the worst case scenarios, Rigsby, however, was trying to be more hopeful. He knew what judges were like, she could still be waiting impatiently, puffing and sighing in frustration as the warrant came through painfully slowly. Or she could already have finished up at the car and moved onto another location, without bothering to tell them.

Or…

Well. He was hoping for anything but the one that kept flitting to the forefront of his mind.

Because there was no point in jumping to the worst conclusion as Jane appeared to have done.

Until it's confirmed otherwise, there's always hope.

"Jane…"

"What?" Jane snapped, angry with himself, with Lisbon, with the whole world.

Then, his eyes caught sight of the object in Rigsby's left hand.

It had been slightly wedged into the muddy ground, given the dirt now clogged in its crevices. Not as if it had been there for long, ignored by the masses, but rather somebody had stepped on it.

Lisbon's cross.

It wasn't something she would leave behind in a hurry and the chain was broken.

Obviously there was a fight and she'd put up a struggle. Given the fact that the precious piece of jewelry was left behind, Jane knew who came off worse.

So did Rigsby, given the look on his face.

Anger was suddenly replaced with fear.

"Where did you find it?"

Shaking, he pointed to a spot beside a tire and Jane was soon laying beside it, feeling eagerly underneath the car.

As he expected, another note. Another piece of paper. Red John's favorite way of communicating with Teresa Lisbon.

Except, it wasn't addressed to her, but to him instead.

Dear Mr. Jane,

I have your ex-wife, current lover, but you've probably worked that one out already.

We're at 4514 Sparrow's Point. A glorified garden shed, but better than nothing.

If you're quick, you may just be able to save her. If not, well… there's more blood on the walls and on your hands, isn't there?

Your choice, Mr. Jane. Your choice.

"Do you trust his words?" Rigsby asked, fearfully.

"We have to. What else do we have?"

000

Red John had been right.

It was a glorified garden shed. Glorified in the sense that it was bigger than a shed, but couldn't fill much other purpose than that.

Van Pelt and Cho arrived at the location just as Rigsby did.

The agent had insisted upon calling them; this was Red John they were talking about. They needed all the help they could get.

Jane had gone on ahead, unable to stand around and wait even for a five minute phone call. The letter had said that time was of the essence and he couldn't stand waiting around for the others. Rigsby clearly didn't get the urgency of the situation. Lisbon could be injured, dying - or worse - and all he wanted to do was wait for the others.

The building was eerily silent as they approached it.

Even the sound of birdsong failed to invade the senses.

Cho was the one to knock on the door and after five seconds without an answer, forced it open with his entire body weight. They didn't have time to be messing around, not with how long it had taken them to get there in the first place.

The scene that greeted them wasn't the one they expected.

An unfamiliar man, dressed in a long black leather coat, despite the warm weather was pinned to the wall, against a half finished smiley face. A drop of blood fell from the forefinger of his gloved right hand.

And Jane was holding a knife, presumably Red John's, to the serial killer's throat.

Van Pelt had to smother a gasp as her eyes were drawn to the ground, to the butchered body. From the looks of things, Lisbon never had a chance.

"Drop the knife, Jane," Cho called. One of their number had just been murdered, he wasn't about to let another become a killer too. "She wouldn't want this."

"She's dead."

"I know," he replied simply. Now was not the time to get emotional. "But you know she never wanted you to do this. We all agree with her."

His words were enough to bring Jane to his senses and with a slight nod, he pulled away, ever so slightly.

As Jane dropped the weapon and it clattered on the ground by his feet. The serial killer simply laughed, eying each of them in turn, daring them to challenge his amusement at the situation.

He hadn't meant to get caught, not yet anyway, but this was a fitting end to his career, he surmised. As he was going down, it was good to take a cop down with him.

And by the looks of things, completely destroy Patrick Jane emotionally for a second time as well.

Cho pulled Jane away, holding him firm as Rigsby and Van Pelt took his place. There was no way they were letting the murderer get away with this.

"That bastard killed my wife," Jane practically howled as Van Pelt, bitterly ignoring Lisbon's body, handcuffed Red John. "Both of them."

TBC…