After several days of working with her, Lisbon grudgingly had to admit Darcy wasn't so bad after all. She didn't attempt to assert her authority. She was sharp and quick and generous about sharing FBI resources the CBI didn't have. She contributed several ideas about how to approach the investigation Lisbon found valuable and insightful. She surprised herself by actually enjoying working with Darcy when she wasn't worrying about what kind of dirt she might dig up on Jane. It was nice working with another woman used to heading up investigations, someone to bounce ideas off and confident in her own leadership.

Jane drove Darcy crazy. He did a cold reading on her the second day of the case that offended her so deeply that she almost quit the investigation. Only her determination to find out if Jane was in league with Red John made her stick it out. She had no patience for his antics, manipulations, and double speak.

It didn't help that it was a truly awful case. Six girls dead, throats neatly slit, their hands and feet bound with wire. Every lead a dead end. Even Jane's normally boundless creativity in sussing out killers had failed him.

He was taking the case hard. Lisbon recognized the signs. With each new body found, he retreated further into himself. He emerged from his brooding silence only to lash out at Darcy in increasingly petty acts of torture as a means of venting his frustration.

When Lisbon finally lost her patience and put her foot down about his hazing of Darcy, Jane started disappearing for hours on end to spend time with a guy named James Panzer, a crime reporter and blogger who killed the San Joaquin Killer, or SJK, as the murdered had been dubbed.

Lisbon figured this was Jane's way of sulking, but she didn't have much time to spare much thought to Jane at the moment. She was busy pursuing a lead on a man named Richard Haibach, an amateur photographer who liked hanging around schools and taking pictures of girls stretching their long, lean limbs in their tank tops and shorts after cross country practice. Haibach gave Lisbon the creeps, but after days trying to scrounge up something they could hold him for, Lisbon was forced to give it up as a bad job.

She was watching Haibach's lawyer walk with him towards the elevator with a scowl on her face when Jane appeared at her elbow and tugged on her sleeve. "I need to talk to you," he said urgently.

She turned her back on Haibach and faced Jane. "What about?"

"In your office," he said, putting his hand at the small of her back and turning towards her office.

Lisbon let him steer her into her office, then raised her eyebrows when he shut the door behind him. "Well?"

He released a breath. "I know who the San Joaquin Killer is."

Lisbon frowned. "Who is it?"

"James Panzer."

Ah. So he hadn't been sulking after all. "What makes you think it's him?"

"His medicine cabinet. It's too neat."

Lisbon waited, but nothing more was forthcoming. "That's it?"

"Think about it, Lisbon. The man has devoted his life to covering this serial killer. He's obsessed with him. Have you read any of this writing? He's not repulsed by the San Joaquin Killer, he's reverent. He calls him an artist, a genius. It's the writing of a man enamored of his own mystique."

Lisbon considered this. She hadn't given Panzer much thought, but the behavior Jane described was a classic characteristic of certain types of killers, and Jane was usually right about this sort of thing. "Have you got any evidence?"

Jane shook his head. "He's too careful for that. You really should take a look at that medicine cabinet. It's scary."

"I can't arrest someone for having a neat medicine cabinet," Lisbon reminded him.

"It's him," Jane said tightly. "I'm certain of it."

"All right," Lisbon said. "I'll have Van Pelt pull some background on him. You and I will put him under surveillance."

"You need a warrant for that," Darcy objected when Lisbon told the team about the plan.

"Relax," Lisbon said. "We're not talking about invading the privacy of his home or an illegal wiretap. We'll stick to public places only. We'll stake out his place. If he goes out in the middle of the night to kill someone, we'll catch him in the act and make the arrest."

"You're basing this on a neat medicine cabinet?" Darcy said incredulously.

Lisbon shrugged. "Jane has good instincts on stuff like that. Besides, it's not like we have any other leads at the moment."

Darcy was silent. "Fine," she said, glaring at Jane. "But I'm coming with you."

"Oh, joy," Jane muttered.

xxx

Jane was so tense on the stakeout he didn't have any attention to spare to bait Darcy. He was stiff and silent, his attention riveted on Panzer's house.

Lisbon and Darcy were quiet, too, watching. After several hours, Jane said tightly, "Lisbon."

Panzer emerged from his house and got into his car.

Lisbon waited a moment, then started the car and went after him.

They followed him to a block of old abandoned warehouses surrounded by a chain link fence.

There were no street lights here. Lisbon killed the headlights when she pulled up half a block away. The three of them crept after Panzer in the dark.

He slipped through a gap in the fence, then disappeared into a darkened building.

But when they got inside and found him standing over a stainless steel work table with a cleaver in his hand, they discovered he wasn't alone. A camera crew stood off to one side, shining a bright light on Panzer and filming the whole thing.

"Patrick!" Karen Cross, a local TV host they'd come across on a previous investigation, beamed at Jane. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Jane demanded, unsmiling.

"The SJK texted me this address. I called Mr. Panzer to authenticate this as the kill room where SJK kills his victims."

Next to Jane, Lisbon stiffened in indignation. "It didn't occur to you to call the police with that information?" Without waiting for a response, she turned to the camera crew and barked, "Out! All of you. This is a crime scene."

Jane rounded on Panzer. "What about you?"

"Like Karen said, she called me," Panzer said smoothly. "Asked me to come down here to authenticate the scene."

"You set this up," Jane accused. "You sent her the address."

"Mr. Jane, I really don't know what you're talking about," Panzer said.

"Jane," Lisbon said, a warning in her voice.

Jane bit off what she'd been certain had been about to be an announcement to the whole room that Panzer was the SJK, with nothing to back him up except an overly neat medicine cabinet.

Most of the camera crew had left, cowed by Lisbon's air of authority, but Darcy was looking back and forth between Jane and Panzer curiously, and Karen Cross was lingering by the doorway, her nosy journalistic antennae pricked up in interest.

"Mr. Panzer," Lisbon said. "Please leave the room. This is a crime scene, and you're contaminating the evidence."

"Lisbon—" Jane started to protest, but Lisbon silenced him with a look.

Panzer set down the cleaver and left the room, Karen Cross reluctantly trailing after him.

When she was sure the room was clear, Lisbon called Cho. "How fast can you get to San Francisco?" she asked grimly. She explained what had happened with Panzer. Cho promised he and Rigsby would drive down to San Francisco and resume surveillance on Panzer while she handled the crime scene. She called Van Pelt and forensics and gave them the address of the warehouse.

When she hung up, Darcy was on the phone with the FBI, and Jane was inspecting the work area where Panzer had been standing with the cleaver when they'd come in.

Lisbon went to join Jane. "Find anything?"

"He knew we were following him," Jane said bitterly. "He set this whole thing up."

"Smart," Lisbon remarked, looking around the pristine workspace. "Even if we did find anything tying Panzer to the scene, it'd be sure to be thrown out now that he left fingerprints all over the place touching things that stupid journalist asked him to 'authenticate.'"

"He's going to kill again," Jane said darkly.

"We'll keep him under surveillance," Lisbon said. "Same plan as before."

Jane shook his head. "He knows we're onto him now. He'll just wait until we get a new case and can't afford to keep him under surveillance. That's when he'll strike."

Lisbon thought about the drab little man holding the cleaver. "You're sure it's him?"

"Positive."

"Then we'll figure it out."

He shook his head. "He's too smart. He'll anticipate anything we try to do to stop him and he'll find a way around it."

"Hey," Lisbon said softly. "We'll get him. Okay?"

His shoulders slumped. "Okay," he said, his voice low.

Lisbon looked up then and saw Darcy watching them narrowly, her phone still pressed to her ear. Lisbon suddenly became aware that she and Jane were standing rather close to each other. Not—well, not too close. It was hardly inappropriate. They were standing next to each other looking at a cleaver on a murderer's table, for God's sake. They weren't even facing each other. But Lisbon knew she could have flicked out her elbow only a few inches to nudge him, because they almost always stood this close, and she knew the exact distance required to elbow Jane in the ribs from long experience.

She set her jaw, determined not to blush, because again, they were standing in the middle of a serial killer's lair. She met Darcy's gaze with a questioning look, as though to say, 'what?'

But Darcy only gave her a slow nod and went back to her phone call.

xxx

Jane was subdued on the drive back to Sacramento. Darcy and Lisbon were quiet, too. It was late—past three in the morning. It had taken the forensics team a while to get to the warehouse, and then two more hours to process the scene. They didn't find anything.

Lisbon dropped Darcy and Jane off at the CBI so they could drive themselves home, then went home to get a few hours sleep.

Her sleep was troubled. She woke up at her usual time after only a couple hours sleep.

She found Jane sleeping on the couch in her office, the blue chenille throw tangled up around him.

She put her things down and went out to the break room. Five minutes later she set down a cup of tea for Jane and sat down at the table with a cup of coffee for herself.

Jane was blinking himself awake by this point. He stood and shuffled over to sit down across from her, the blanket still draped over his shoulders. He sat down and inhaled the scent of the tea gratefully.

They sat in companionable silence, drinking from their respective mugs.

When Jane was three quarters of the way through his cup of tea, he said in a low voice, "I can stop this."

Lisbon took another sip of her coffee. "What do you mean?"

"I thought of it last night. A way to stop Panzer before he kills again."

"Yeah? Let's hear it."

He didn't quite meet her gaze. "Karen Cross invited me on her show."

"And?"

"I was thinking…I might accept her invitation."

Lisbon frowned. She knew how Jane felt about being on TV. "To what end?"

"She invited Panzer to be guest on her show on Thursday."

"So what? You want to go on TV and trick him into confessing?"

"Not exactly." He was still avoiding her gaze. Almost telegraphing shame. Which was strange. Because Jane was the most utterly shameless person she'd ever met.

He was anticipating her disapproval. That part wasn't unusual. He did things she disapproved of all the time. But he wasn't being dismissive or condescending. Which meant he thought she was right to disapprove. That he was uncertain himself.

Lisbon put down her mug. "Then to do what, exactly?"

"I told you Panzer is an egomaniac. He craves attention. He's enamored of his own brilliance."

"So?"

"He thinks he's the best. The greatest killer who ever lived."

Lisbon stared at him. And then it clicked. Her fingers clenched around her coffee mug. "Jane, no," she said in alarm. "You can't be thinking of—"

"It's the only way, Lisbon. He's too good. He's going to kill again unless I stop him."

"We'll keep up the surveillance—"

"He'll wait. He'll wait until another case comes along, wait until we can't babysit him every night. He'll wait until we're not there anymore, and then he will kill again, and it will be my fault because I didn't stop him."

"You can't do this," Lisbon said with certainty. "Jane, you must know what a terrible idea this is."

He shrugged helplessly. "It's the only thing I can think of."

"You'll think of something else. We'll think of something else."

"I've been trying to think of something else! This is all there is."

"No, Jane. Not like this. This is—this is a bad idea on so many levels. There will be consequences. You think he would let you get away with manipulating him without some kind of retribution? It's not going to happen, Jane. I won't allow it. I'll fire you first. I'll call Karen Cross and tell her you're mentally unstable and can't be trusted in front of a lot of bright lights. And if you find some other way, I'll personally go to the governor's office to secure funding to maintain a protective detail on Panzer for the rest of his life." She sat back, folded her arms over her chest, and fixed him with a glare.

Jane stared at her a moment, then deflated. "All right," he muttered. "It was just an idea."

Lisbon exhaled, profoundly relieved. "We'll find another way, Jane. We will."

"Okay."

"Hey." She leaned forward. Touched his sleeve. "Thank you for giving me the chance to talk you out of it."

"Yeah, well," he said uncomfortably. "Partners. Right?"

She gave him a soft smile. "Partners."

His gazed moved to a spot over her left shoulder and his expression hardened. "Something we can help you with, Agent Darcy?" he called out.

Lisbon turned her head to see Darcy hovering outside her door. She beckoned Darcy to come in, wondering how much she might have overheard.

Darcy entered. "I didn't want to interrupt your meeting."

Lisbon suppressed a snort at the idea of having a 'meeting' with Jane. You didn't have meetings with Jane. You had scheming sessions with Jane, or theatrical reveals of convoluted theories with Jane. Occasionally, you might have a meeting with another person that Jane barged in on in the most disruptive manner possible. Every once in a while, you might have something that loosely resembled a normal conversation with Jane. But you didn't have 'meetings' with him. "It's fine," she said, waving Darcy in. "What's up?"

Jane studied Darcy intently, then stood abruptly. "I'm going to make a pastry run," he announced. He addressed Lisbon. "Bear claw?"

"Yes, please."

He turned to Darcy. "Maple glazed donut. Got it."

"I didn't say anything," Darcy said, bemused.

"Don't question it," Lisbon warned.

"See you in a bit!" Jane left.

Darcy sat down in the seat Jane had just vacated. "How could he possibly have known those are my favorite?"

"I have no idea," Lisbon said. "But I've never seen him guess a pastry order wrong."

"His track record's that good, huh? What about other things? He's got to get things wrong sometimes."

"Of course," Lisbon said. "The trouble is getting him to admit it."

"But he does, doesn't he? To you, at least."

Lisbon frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He confides in you."

Lisbon shrugged. "Sometimes."

"More than he does anyone else."

"I suppose," Lisbon said cautiously. "We've known each other a long time."

"He listens to you."

"Rarely," Lisbon said, glowering.

"But when it matters, he does. I was watching the two of you, just now. You talked him out of pursuing a course of action he'd resolved on."

Lisbon stiffened. "You were watching us?"

"Yes," Darcy said bluntly. "Before I came here, I suspected Mr. Jane of being in league with Red John. Perhaps even being the man himself. I talked to your supervisor, Agent Wainwright, before starting this detail. He believes Mr. Jane has psychopathic tendencies. Before I started working with your team, I was inclined to agree with him. But after observing Jane with the team, I realized that Wainwright formed his conclusion based on incomplete data."

"Incomplete data?" Lisbon echoed.

"Jane teases Van Pelt in a very specific way, doesn't he?"

Lisbon's eyebrows rose. "Does he?"

"Yes. Like an older brother. He likes to give her a hard time, but he's still protective of her. And he taught Agent Rigsby a card trick."

"So what?"

"He made him work for it. Drew out the set up over a week and a half. But when Rigsby was about to go crazy over it, he caved in and taught it to him. And I saw him exchange books with Agent Cho three times. They didn't have any conversation about any of the books. But Jane put a book on the corner of Cho's desk three times. Cho took the book and put a different book on the corner of his desk, and when he was away from his desk, Jane would amble over and collect it."

Lisbon hadn't realized the book exchanges had such a well-refined ritual. "What's your point?"

"Jane isn't a psychopath. He cares about the people on this team."

"Thank you for that brilliant analysis," Lisbon said scathingly. "How kind of you to invite yourself as a guest on this team and to trouble yourself to provide me with the information that a member of my team is not a psychopath. Not only was it kind of you to spend your precious time this way, but it was not at all insulting to assume that none of us would have bothered looking into Jane before we hired him, or that we just failed to notice we were working with a psychopath until you decided to come along and give us the benefit of your opinion."

Darcy held up a hand in a gesture of surrender. "Look, I'm sorry. But the circumstances of the Timothy Carter case were suspicious, and he escaped under my watch. You'd have done the same thing, if you'd suspected inside involvement in a partner agency."

"He escaped under my watch," Lisbon said firmly. "I take full responsibility for that. But," she added grudgingly, "I suppose I can understand where you were coming from."

"Glad to hear it." Darcy got to her feet. "I'll end my detail at the end of the week. There's not much else I can help with on this case, it seems, but if you can think of anything I might be able to do for you, please call me."

"All right. We appreciate you lending a hand on this one," Lisbon said, standing to shake her hand.

Darcy returned the handshake. "I enjoyed working with you. I don't know how you ever get through a week without wanting to shoot Jane between the eyes, but I'm glad he has you."

Lisbon faltered for half a second before Darcy continued. "It's good he has someone around to curb his worst instincts. Be the voice of reason. You should be getting hazard pay for being the one to do it, in my opinion. He has a remarkable mind, but I don't envy you the task of being the one to keep him under control."

"No one keeps Jane under control," Lisbon said. "All you can do is persuade him to unleash his havoc in a way that's most beneficial for public safety."

Darcy surprised her with a rare smile. "Exactly."