A/N: Final chapter but there's an epilogue to follow.
Thank you to: Katrina, mylla88, Special Agent Baker, WeBuiltThePyramids, MerriWyllow, wimmer511 and Frogster for reviewing part four.
x tromana
Part Five
Lisbon headed straight back to the CBI headquarters, where she knew that the rest of the team had reconvened. Now that Cho and Van Pelt had gotten ahold of this mystery set of keys, she knew that she needed to see them for herself. She had no doubt that they had passed through Red John's hands; why else would they have been so important? Why else would they have been stolen? There must have been something he was trying to hide in that house, otherwise why would he have gone to all that effort to retrieve them once more?
Then again, why hadn't Red John brought the property outright? It was a well-known fact that he had money resources, and he'd purchased land in the past. Why hadn't he bothered to legally obtain this site? Was it because he was hoping to use the purchaser as an unwilling victim, just to add some more 'excitement' into his life?
Was that why the Coulson family had been targeted?
When she walked into the bullpen, the rest of the team were already sitting at the silver conference table, awaiting her arrival. They were in silence and each studiously studying the files placed in front of them. Despite being alone in the office, Rigsby clearly hadn't been resting on his laurels. He'd been cross-referencing their current case with all previous encounters with Red John, as well as looking into the Coulson family's credentials.
Before she even had a chance to ask where they had gotten up to with the case, he handed her a thin file. Frowning, Lisbon leafed through the sheets of paper, trying to absorb the information as quickly as feasibly possible. She didn't need to read it in detail to realize that the family had serious financial issues, that much was obvious just from a brief glance. Though it wasn't a major discovery, it did explain why they were more likely to cross paths with Red John.
It didn't explain, however, why Coulson had believed he had the money to be able to afford a bracelet from Tiffany's for his wife.
"I think the victim was trying to hide the money issues from her husband," Van Pelt prompted when asked.
"Other moms at the nursery confirmed it," Cho added. "And the manager stated that they owed money."
All eyes focused on Rigsby, who squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. All three of them were more than aware that he was familiar, friendly even, with the family. If anyone was going to have any idea about the validity of these claims, then Rigsby was the one most likely to know.
"She said she was struggling to pay the food bill, once," Rigsby eventually said slowly. "I offered Julie money, but she refused to take it. She said her husband would never let her accept it."
"Anything else you can think of?"
Rigsby, still clearly embarrassed, quickly described an incident where Julie had picked up her daughter from the nursery the previous week. She'd apparently been drunk and clearly stressed out. Her appearance was dirty and unkempt. The only reason Rigsby had especially noticed the difference was because he hadn't seen her for over a month; the father had been picking up and dropping off young Susie at the nursery in the meantime. When Rigsby had prompted her for information as to what had happened to her, she had just snappishly told him to mind his own business.
"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Lisbon asked, a little irritated by his lapse in judgment.
"Sorry, boss, I should have but…"
"I know, I'm sorry Wayne," she said softly. "You were worried about your own family."
"Yes, boss," he agreed quietly.
"And what about the set of keys? Any luck on finding out the zip code?"
Cho nodded and handed them to her in an evidence baggie, along with the location of the property in question. According to the map that Cho had printed out, the building was on a large site on the outskirts of Sacramento. Though it was clearly a strong lead, there was something about it that was irritating her. Though it was obviously a Red John case, he was clearly messing around with his M.O. too much and as far as Lisbon was concerned, that simply spelt out trouble.
"Don't you think this all seems a little too… easy?" Lisbon eventually said.
"Yes," Van Pelt replied while Cho and Rigsby merely nodded in assent.
She was relieved that, at least, they seemed to agree with her. It was a comfort to know that they were just as worried and intrigued as she was about the situation. Even so, a lead was a lead and it still needed investigating. Lisbon stood and pocketed the keys before looking at each member of her team seriously.
"I'm going to check it out. Van Pelt, I want you to come with me," she instructed and Van Pelt practically jumped to her feet. "Cho, I want you to talk to Coulson again. Find out how much he knows about the financial difficulties and why he's been withholding information from us. He may behave a little difficultly."
"You want me to stay here, boss?" Rigsby piped up.
"Yes," she answered back. "But one more thing; have any of you heard from Jane?"
Her heart sank when she heard a chorus of 'no's' responding to her question. She hadn't expected any of them to have heard from him; after all, they had remained fairly aloof from him since his most reckless plan involving Red John. Lisbon couldn't blame them for that in the slightest. However, Jane had successfully managed to lure her straight back in. Silently, she decided that was because they always worked far better together, though in reality, the reasoning was far deeper than that.
Van Pelt asked if she could drive, and Lisbon accepted the offer. She was feeling too distracted to be in charge of a vehicle, anyway. And besides, they knew that they didn't have to travel all that far, just a few miles out of the center of the city. As soon as they were on the move, Lisbon regretted her decision. Her mind was whirring fast, as thoughts of whatever trap they were walking into grew more horrific and macabre. Driving would have provided her with the ideal distraction from an overactive imagination. Despite that, she remained silent and instead, tapped her finger impatiently.
"You need to stop worrying about him, boss," Van Pelt said eventually. "Jane can look after himself."
"I'm not worried."
"Yes, you are. It's obvious."
"He should be here; this is Red John," Lisbon asserted.
"I know," Van Pelt agreed, "but making yourself sick because of him won't do anyone any good."
Lisbon frowned and refused to answer. Though Van Pelt had made a valid point, she knew it wasn't as simple as that. There was a justifiable reason for concern, and besides, it was something that was in her blood. She couldn't just switch it on or off. And anyway, as good as she was at giving instructions, Lisbon was ten times worse at accepting them, even if they were common sense.
Thirty seconds later, her cell phone started to ring. This was appearing to be one of those cases where they were determined to make their phone bills as high as possible. Despite that, Lisbon appreciated the technology. It meant they could work through cases a lot faster than they had been able to before cell phones had been developed. When she saw that the caller was Jane – finally –she froze for a second. As soon as she had gathered up her senses, she promptly answered it, hoping that her dithering hadn't caused him to give up contacting her.
"Jane, what's wrong? Where are you?" she said, rushing as she did so.
"You're alright?" he asked, sounding as worried as she felt.
Her frown deepened. "Of course I am, but you didn't answer my question."
"I'll be with you as-"
The line cut off and Lisbon briefly glanced at Van Pelt. She didn't need to say a word, but Lisbon could see the look of worry etched in her features. There was little doubt that it was reflected in her own as well. Hearing Jane's voice had done nothing to quell her fears; if anything, it had exacerbated them. It had been a long while since Lisbon had last heard Jane so harried. Every time she heard that voice of his, she knew that if she heard it again, it would be too soon.
Van Pelt pushed on the gas pedal just that little bit harder and for once, Lisbon was under no inclination to argue about breaking the speed limit. They were close to the house now and for some reason, Lisbon had an inkling that that would be where they found Jane, too.
And if she was right, that could only mean bad things.
Red John was strongly connected with this property. That meant Jane could quite possibly have been lured there and for what? She scarcely wanted to think about it.
It was a blessed relief when the house came into sight. Just as Coulson had described, it was little more than a dilapidated shack, apparently fit for destruction only. Considering it was technically on the outskirts of Sacramento, it felt like there was nobody else for miles. If she hadn't felt so tense, Lisbon would have considered this piece of real estate to be quiet and peaceful. Instead, she was hoping that Jane would come bursting out of that door at any given second.
Instead, Van Pelt slammed on the breaks and the car came screeching to a halt, just as the house practically exploded and became engulfed in flames before them.
xxx
Carefully, Jane placed the photograph back on the mantelpiece and took a step back.
He didn't like the link to Rigsby's son in the slightest, but that was something he knew he had to take into account later. First, he had to get out of here.
But before that, Jane knew that Red John wouldn't let him leave without taking a peek in the basement first.
Taking care not to step on little Susie, Jane maneuvered himself around the room. He paused by the couch and on a whim, pulled the comforter off of the back of it. Jane knelt beside the little girl, brushed the curls away from her face and then gently draped the long material over her tiny form. There hadn't been any need for him to act in such a way, but Jane had felt compelled too. At least now, she looked more like she was peacefully sleeping than had just died from severe blood loss.
"Sleep well, Susie," he muttered quietly.
The door was already unlocked by the time he slipped out. Instinctively, he shut the door quietly, as if he was trying not to disturb the young girl. Jane knew that it was impossible to wake the dead, but he couldn't change the habit of a lifetime. He'd gotten so used to slipping out of room's where children were sleeping after Charlotte's birth, but like his little girl, Susie was never going to wake up again.
Jane shook his head as he tried to recollect his thoughts. Four down, one to go, he considered. He'd gotten the majority of it over and done with, but he didn't doubt that Red John had presumably had a few more tricks up his sleeve.
Three of the rooms had been stuck in the past, and the fourth the present. What did that mean about the fifth, the basement? It wasn't on the same level as the other rooms, which spoke volumes. It was darker, underground. Jane wondered if he was about to get a glimpse of what was yet to come. If he was, then Red John's planning was almost Dickensian in his styling. He wouldn't put it past him; Red John did seem to have quite the affinity to the classics.
He could have dithered, but instead, Jane made a beeline straight for the hatch daubed with the number five. The incorrigible itch had returned; he was desperate to know what was hidden behind the final door. Mostly because he had a feeling that it was going to be the one that revealed the most about Red John's psyche. The first three had been a macabre trip down memory lane, along with a few home truths he'd have rather not have discovered. In comparison, the fourth was bitterly sad, but he hadn't gleaned much new information from it. Jane already knew that Red John kept an eagle eye on him and the team; the connection between Susie and Benjamin Rigsby hadn't been that shocking, in retrospect.
This time, the moment his fingers came into contact with the handle, it didn't give him an electrical shock. The hatch was heavy, but Jane successfully managed to pull it open. Tentatively, he peered down inside it, trying desperately to see what was waiting down there for him. Unfortunately, beyond the wooden and almost rotted wooden staircase, he couldn't see a thing. With a sigh, he carefully eased himself into the hole and holding tightly onto the bannister, he made his way down the creaky steps.
Once his foot hit the floor safely, Jane was relieved. He'd doubted whether or not it would be able to hold his bodyweight. Taking a deep breath, he felt along the wall, trying to find a light switch. As soon as he did, the room slowly but surely started to illuminate. When the lights were bright enough, it was clear to see exactly where he was. There was just a stud partition wall in front of him, painted in a standard magnolia, with a single door in front of him. Jane frowned. This wasn't exactly what he had expected.
To the left and the right of the door, there were two boards, not too dissimilar to the ones they used at the CBI headquarters for working out case timelines and other important details. Jane stared at the one on the left first. It featured photographs of Rigsby, Van Pelt and Cho in miscellaneous situations, both at work and at leisure. Family and friends of each individual featured were in some of the shots too. Each picture had been meticulously recorded, including the date, time and location it had been taken in. Once he tore himself away from it, he spent some time looking at the board on the right. This one was significantly larger than the other, and prominently featured photographs of himself, but mostly Lisbon.
That was the first disconcerting fact about this place.
After studying the pictures, many of which were of times he clearly remembered, Jane returned his attention to the door. There was no painted number on this one and no smiley face either. It looked perfectly innocuous and harmless, but that was what made it all the more disconcerting. Jane figured there was no reason for this door to be locked. The hatch above him had been closed while he'd been distracted with the photographs.
And once one door closed, another one usually opened.
It didn't stop him from touching it tentatively, however. Despite his conditioning, Jane was relieved when the door eased open slightly.
He was less relieved when he saw what the door had been hiding.
And that was when Jane's heart stopped for half a second.
This place was familiar, painfully so. Just yesterday evening he had been safely within the four walls of the CBI headquarters and now, he was in at least a fairly accurate replica of it, albeit, underground. Nervously, Jane took another couple of steps forwards. To the left, would ordinarily have been the bullpen, but instead, a canvas image of it had been erected behind a glass wall. Even pictures of Rigsby, Van Pelt and Cho had been slotted neatly inside, making them appear to be working studiously hard.
Directly in front of him was the door to Lisbon's office.
The blinds were all tightly shut; something which Jane knew was a rarity.
It was with quite some trepidation that he walked steadily across the wooden floorboards and to the precise replica of Lisbon's office door. Jane paused before he even dared to open and allowed his hand to run over the inscription of her name. It was all too familiar; if he hadn't known he was miles away from the headquarters (and underground), Jane would have believed he were actually in the building.
As he swung the door open, it creaked ever so slightly on its hinges.
The first thing he saw, yet again, was the smiley face. That was something he'd come to expect. With a deep breath, Jane took a step forward and into the room. Slowly, he turned on his heels to take everything in. There were exact copies of all of Lisbon's possessions, including her chess board, her certificates, even the photographs she kept of her old dogs.
And slouched over at the desk was a macabre effigy of Lisbon herself.
It was without irony, that Jane noted the head had been made out of a honeydew melon. He knew precisely where Red John had gotten that idea from.
Except, 'she' wasn't dressed in her usual work attire; the jeans, blouse and smart blazer she normally wore had been proverbially thrown out of the window. No, the Lisbon doll had been dressed in an ivory wedding gown, with a veil obscuring the face. Curious, Jane took a few steps closer to it, with his heart pounding violently against his ribcage. The doll's left hand wore two rings on the wedding finger. Her 'body' was covered in cuts, complete with fake blood. The style of cutting mimicked Red John's normal procedure perfectly.
The computer screen was lit brightly; Jane was faintly surprised that this cellar had electricity at all. Even so, he couldn't resist taking a peek at what was written on the screen.
'Dare you risk it, Mr. Jane?'
The words were repeated over and over. This message couldn't have been portrayed any clearer.
If he and Lisbon were to dare get any closer, this was what the future entailed.
Jane scrabbled desperately in his pocket for his cell phone and instinctively dialed Lisbon's number. As he waited for the thing to connect, he paced irritably around the office. She'd wanted him to call her back urgently, and now, he had the incentive to do so, but it didn't appear like she was ready to pick up.
When he finally heard her voice after the fifth ring, it was a blessed relief.
The tone of her voice suggested that she was frantic with worry for his safety. However, he could safely say that the feeling was entirely mutual. She was confused by his worry, but there was time to explain later. This was something that he needed to explain to her face to face. Just as he was about to do so, the line went dead.
Had his phone ran out of battery? No, just lost the signal, damn thing. It was most likely because he was underground and therefore, the service was compromised. Jane scowled; talking to Lisbon, even for a brief moment, had been a comfort, of sorts. She was still alive, she was still well. And that was the main thing. Red John hadn't decided to prey on her before anything happened between them, just to stick the knife in that little bit deeper.
It was tempting to throw the cell phone to the ground in sheer frustration, but instead, he managed to exercise a modicum of control and pocket it instead. He took a minute or so to start to regulate his breathing. This situation that Red John had portrayed, it was avoidable. Jane knew he could do something about it. Then again, he also was more than aware that Red John had been developing a dangerous fascination with Lisbon. Who was to say that he would be able to regulate his temptation and instead, just kill her anyway?
Just as he was about to exit the replica office and make his way back outside, there was an almighty explosion that echoed around him.
And then, everything went black.
