A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating. And I have my first killer migraine for a long while, so I'm not feeling all that cheerful (quite the opposite actually) either.

Thank you to: wimmer511, Frogster, WeBuiltThePyramids, Special Agent Baker, Katrina, mylla88 and MerriWyllow for reviewing part three. I'll reply to your reviews tomorrow!

x tromana


Part Four

When they took the time to scrutinize the contents of the safe, it appeared that nothing had been removed. Lisbon had half expected to see a smiley face somewhere inside, at least as a sign that they were on the right track. However, it was precisely how Coulson had described it to them moments before he'd left. The only plausible explanation she could think of as to why the safe had been tampered with was to explicitly mislead them, to waste their time and energy on a useless task. At least it had only taken Cho a matter of minutes to gain access to it.

Then again, when facing Red John, every second counted and they'd already wasted a precious few on this.

Lisbon was about to turn on her heels to exit the room and announce that they were done here, when she noticed a particularly pensive expression on Van Pelt's face. She wasn't staring irritably into the safe like she and Cho had been. Instead, she was looking at the drawer which the keys were supposed to be located in.

"What's wrong, Van Pelt?" Lisbon enquired.

"Maybe it's not something missing from the safe itself," she started softly.

"…maybe the keys themselves are the lead?" Lisbon finished, wrapping her head around the concept. "Van Pelt, I want you and Cho to go talk to the nursery, see if there have been any suspicious people hanging around in the past few weeks. I'll chase up these missing keys."

"Yes boss," Van Pelt muttered and Cho nodded in assent.

They left the Russet Inc. building in a somber silence. It felt like they were getting somewhere, but in reality, Lisbon suspected they weren't getting all that far. So far, each of the clues had felt all too easy to decipher, like Red John wanted them to move fast. She couldn't help but wonder what the catch was and if they were being lured into a trap. That was half of her justification for sending Van Pelt and Cho off to do something easy while she tackled the real lead. Lisbon sincerely doubted that they would pick up anything of use there, though it was possible that the nursery was the place where he'd cherry-picked the Coulson family from.

But if it was, it didn't explain why the father's safe keys were missing. Nor did it answer the question of whether or not there had been more than one set of keys on that specific chain. On a whim, she stopped by with the receptionist who was oblivious to the whereabouts of the missing keys, however was kind enough to give her the contact details of Julie Coulson's sister – who also happened to be an employee of the company. That small shred of information at least saved her from having to distract Rigsby from his paper trails.

As she drove, Lisbon found herself being plagued by thoughts of Jane. He'd ignored two of her calls now, and since the last spell where she'd heard neither hide nor hair from him, it set her nerves on edge. Though Jane had promised her that if he ever needed to disappear for whatever reason again, he would let her in on the plan, she didn't entirely believe him. After all, he had never given her cause to implicitly trust him in the past and now, she had even less of a reason to do so. Of course, the lack of trust in him wasn't enough to quell any other feelings she had for him, so she still worried herself half to death. She refused point blank to call him again; that would do no good. Instead, she had to use what little patience reserves she had left and hope that he would call.

But, damn it, this was Red John. He needed to know and instead, he was off doing something entirely unrelated. Lisbon was already dreading the fallout that would inevitably occur when he discovered what he had missed out on. In those situations, he was prone to lash out at anybody, especially those closest to him, and especially her. However, Lisbon was more than aware that she had to take the rough with the smooth. Knowing Jane was never going to be an easy ride, never mind anything else she might have felt for him.

Feelings that she'd had to keep stubbornly repressed, especially with Red John breathing down their necks now more than ever.

It didn't stop the pair of them from dancing around one another, however, If anything, it had exacerbated the situation. Regardless of what happened (or not) between them, Lisbon knew that Red John was going to react one way or another. Therefore, the link to Rigsby's son hadn't come of as much of a surprise to her as it had to Rigsby himself. Red John would know full well that the thing that meant the most to her was her team, and then her family. If he really wanted to hurt her, then the best way to do it was go through her team. In reaction, she kept a closer eye on all of them, and especially Van Pelt. If the serial killer came close to her again, she knew that Van Pelt would most likely shatter irreparably.

When she arrived at Jessica Adams' residence, it was almost a blessed relief. At least then, she knew she was going to be able to escape her own thoughts for a while. Lisbon knocked briskly on the door and was soon greeted with a mirror image of the vic. Jessica, the younger twin of Julie Coulson, had red rimmed eyes and her brother-in-law loitered behind her. When he spotted Lisbon at the door, he placed a slightly too protective hand on Jessica's shoulder and glared bitterly at her. Briefly, Lisbon questioned just how platonic their relationship was, but cast it aside. That was the kind of crude reasoning that only Jane could get away with.

"What do you want, Agent?"

"I need to ask you a few more questions," she explained politely.

"Now?" he snapped back with a scowl. "Why can't you give our family time to grieve?"

"Yes, now," Lisbon answered back.

This man was already trying her patience. If he weren't so directly related to the victim, she would have had considerably less time for him. As it was, she knew that she had to at least keep control of her anger.

"But you've already said that Red John was responsible. It's a lost cause."

"And what about the life of your daughter?" she asked.

"We still haven't received a ransom note," he said quickly, gently guiding Jessica out of the way. "Now is that all? My wife and her sister were incredibly close. Can't you see she needs comforting?"

"I just have a couple more questions."

Lisbon folded her arms defensively. This man seemed to have his priorities completely skewed in the wrong direction. If any of her brother's kids were kidnapped, she would have fought tooth and nail to get them back. Bob Coulson, however, seemed to have already given her up for dead. Some people, she decided, simply didn't deserve to be parents. The ones that would actually dote upon their daughters never got a chance, or screwed it up eventually. That was something she understood all too well from experience.

Jessica, spotting the fire in both of their eyes, mercifully intervened. She refused to budge, despite her brother-in-law's insistence that she should leave this to him. Instead, she invited Lisbon in for a cup of tea and insisted that they would help with the investigation in any way they could. Lisbon was relieved; at least one of the two still had their head screwed on.

The living room was decorated in a minimalistic style and the sparse white furniture was almost blinding in a way. When offered the tea once more, Lisbon accepted it gratefully. Not because she was thirsty, but because she didn't want to give Bob Coulson an aneurysm by appearing rude by rejecting it. After taking a sip, she placed it carefully on the coffee table before withdrawing her notepad. All she could do was hope that she would get some useful information from this.

"The keys to the safe…" she started slowly.

"What about them?" Coulson asked curiously.

"They were missing."

He flew to his feet in a second, and was clearly about to fly off the handle, until a gentle touch on the elbow from Jessica calmed him down. Embarrassed, he sat back down and explained why the keys were so important. As well as offering additional security to his safe, he had been entrusted with purchasing a property on the far outskirts of Sacramento. This location was going to be used to build a factory for the company to produce its items. There was a property on the site – little more than a dilapidated shack – which they hadn't actually bothered to look around. It didn't matter what it looked like on the inside; it was going to be demolished soon enough anyway.

And they'd only just finalized the purchase recently and Coulson had picked up the keys yesterday morning from the realtor. And yet, they had already gone missing. He hadn't even had a chance to go and have a proper look around.

After a few more generic questions, mostly about Julie and Susie and why they could have been targeted, Lisbon thanked them both for their time and promptly disappeared back to the car. She rested her head briefly on the steering wheel as she tried to make sense of what she'd just learned. Just as she was about ready to put her key in the ignition, her cell phone sounded out. Lisbon's heart skipped a beat and then promptly sank when she realized it was just Van Pelt.

"Boss?" Van Pelt said, sounding slightly agitated. "We talked to the manager of the nursery. She said that a strange set of keys had been found on the doorstep."

"And?" Lisbon said irritably; she'd had quite enough of wondering about various sets of keys to last a lifetime.

"They have a key ring engraved with Russet Inc. and underneath, there's another zip code. It isn't the one to the main offices, either."

Lisbon sighed. Though this seemed like another link to add to the chain of events, she wasn't looking forward to where this one was going to lead.

xxx

Love.

Kristina had just had to mention that word, hadn't she? When Jane had spent time with her, love hadn't been on the table as far as he was concerned. No, he was intrigued by her and her conviction that she was indeed a true psychic. He enjoyed her company because she challenged him in ways that other people dared not to. And yes, she was an attractive woman, though her illness had clearly begun to take its toll on her appearance.

Then again, given the fact she was convinced that she was dead, she probably cared very little about what her body looked like. As far as Kristina was concerned, her physical remains had either been cremated or were already six feet under. Her spirit, however, remained pure and within the kingdom of God.

Yet, he knew she was still alive, could feel and observe every single sign of life. Every autonomous reaction was working perfectly normally. It was just a simple case that somebody had addled with her mind and nobody had worked the way to link her mind back in with her body.

Still, love…

She didn't seem to recall the fact that she herself had made the same fatal error that he had made on television. The moment she had taunted Red John on that chat show, Jane had feared history repeating itself. However, Kristina had no close friends or family to steal away from her. All she had was her own mind, body and soul, and Red John had stripped her away from that. Not just to punish her for her supposed wrongdoings, but also to remind Jane what happened when he let people get too close.

But he hadn't learned, he still continued to fall into the same trappings. Angela had died, so long ago now and he had still never truly come to terms with it. Kristina, well, her state of mind was pretty damn obvious.

And Jane knew he'd let Lisbon fall for him as well.

Worse, the feelings were reciprocated and he hadn't done a damn thing about it. The six months he'd spent away from her had been tortuous. He'd hoped that it would anger and frustrate any feelings out of Lisbon and remind himself of what happened to the people he dared to love. Instead, he had spent many of his waking hours being plagued with guilt, knowing just how much it was tearing her apart. And of course, she had been made of stronger material than that.

She'd gone through hell and back with him in the past. Why would a little something like shutting her out scare her away?

A gust of wind came out of nowhere and the candle suddenly blew out.

That was it for this room then, he surmised.

The only light source left in the room came from behind him. Jane turned around to see the door behind him wide open. Red John was definitely keen for him to hurry up out of this room and into the next, clearly.

And for once, Jane actually found himself agreeing with the serial killer. This was already testing him far too much, almost to the extent that he wished he had a certain reassuring hand to hold. The sooner this ordeal was over, the better. If only he had been able to resist the temptation to actually follow up the letter. If only he'd brought backup, or rather, Lisbon. If only…

He'd willingly walked into this house and he had no one but himself to blame for it. Red John had left the tiniest of crumbs for him and Jane had more than happily chased them up. Mentally, he was kicking himself for being so stupid.

As he walked back out to the hallway, his eyes were immediately drawn to the hatch for the cellar. The first three rooms had been awful for very different reasons and each one settled uncomfortably in his stomach. Building them on top of one another seemed to make the situation feel all the worse. He dreaded to imagine what was in there. Jane decided to give the hatch a cautionary tug just to see what would happen. He knew that he would be quite happy to skip out the fourth room altogether. His experimentation was rewarded with a short electrical shock.

Jane yelped, took a step back and started sucking on his fingers. It served him right really. This was Red John's memory palace, as he was clearly reminded of each time he was in this no man's land between the rooms. He didn't get to decide the rules; Red John did. Just as he'd done so ever since he'd gotten the letter delivered to Jane through the CBI.

With a sigh, he headed towards the fourth room. The door swung open easily and it was brightly lit.

The first thing his eyes were drawn to, as always, was the smiley face on the wall. The blood was still wet; it had been painted merely minutes beforehand. When he eventually had the confidence to draw his gaze away from it and to the floor, he was greeted with a small blonde girl with a mass of curls.

She was still breathing, if only just.

Red John hadn't delivered the killing blow to end the girl's misery. Instead, he'd left her to bleed out in the middle of this lounge setting.

Jane's eyes scanned around the body. There was so much blood, especially for a girl so small.

Worse, she looked precisely like a younger version of Charlotte.

Instinct told him to rush to the girl's side, to cradle her, to whisper comforting white lies down her ear. Everything's going to be fine, we'll get a doctor to you, I'll find your mommy and daddy.

But there was too much blood. This girl wasn't going to make it out of this room alive. Jane knew enough about death to know that she was barely minutes away from it.

Fighting against the desire to vomit, Jane took a step closer to the girl. Tentatively, he knelt beside her and that was when her tear stained eyes fluttered open. With a nervous hand, Jane reached out to stoke the blonde curls, though he remained silent. He could only hope that the small comfort he was capable of offering would give her at least a little peace in her dying throes.

"Hurts," she murmured, if only just.

"I know," Jane replied quietly. "I know. What's your name?"

"Su- Susie."

"Susie. That's a pretty name. Do you like the beach, Susie?"

It was barely perceptible, but she nodded ever so slightly. Jane let out a shaky sigh of relief. He knew what he had to do, how to make her forget about the pain as she died. It was the only way he could think of to make it easier on young Susie as the life slipped out of her.

"Imagine you're on a beach, Susie. You're sitting in the sunshine next to your mommy. There's sand beneath your feet. It's wet and tickles your toes. Can you feel it, Susie?" he asked and was rewarded with another small nod. "You can hear the waves as they come in and out, in and out. The waves make loud crashing noises as they roll in and out, in and out. There's the sound of the seagulls calling as the waves keep crashing in and…"

He trailed off as her eyes closed shut. Susie was so painfully young; of course it was going to be easy to put her into a light trance state. Still, he sat quietly beside her, watching her as she breathed in and out, in and out until finally, she breathed in one last time, but not out once more. That was it; she was gone.

Jane blinked rapidly. He couldn't let himself cry, however desperately sad it was that Red John had brutally murdered another child, just to make him watch as she took her last painful breaths. Instead, he knew that he had to channel his sadness, his frustration, his anger. He needed to get out of here and pass what he'd learned onto Lisbon. Before he stood, he noticed that she was holding onto something in her hands – two human fingers.

Once more, he felt sick to his stomach.

He remembered a previous instruction from Red John to Lorelei: cut off two of his fingers, doesn't matter which.

But that didn't answer whose fingers they were.

Now that she had died, Jane took the chance to really take in his scenery. The room was unfamiliar, though it was warm and cozy. This was a Red John crime scene he was not familiar with and he could only presume it was a new one. One that had just happened, while he was busy in here. He pulled out his phone and stared at it. Was that why Lisbon had been trying to frantically get a hold of him? Jane knew she worried about him at the best of times, despite him telling her not to.

Just as he was toying with the idea of calling her back, his eyes were drawn to the photographs on the mantelpiece. It was decorated with many pictures of young Susie, some with her mother, whom she bore a distinct resemblance to. Was she the owner of the fingers that Susie was clasping, he wondered?

Then, another picture caught his attention.

It was of Susie again, but this time she was with a distinctly familiar young boy.

Benjamin Rigsby.