A/N: All characters, cases, and locations belong to Bruno Heller, CBS, and affiliates. I now have an idea of the outline of the story with another chapter almost finished. I'm really pleased that everyone's been enjoying the story. As always, please review.

The car was silent on the way there. Cho's hands moved on the wheel in the front as Lisbon's eyes were glued to the landscape out the window.

Jane seemed unconcerned in the back, his head leaning against the side of the car, watching Rigsby awkwardly twiddling his thumbs.

Finally Grace spoke.

"Who's the Artist?"

There was a short silence in the car and for a moment it was like she hadn't spoken. Then Lisbon turned in her seat to look in the back of the car.

Her green eyes were on fire and serious.

"A serial killer who, after four years of nothing, seems to have reemerged suddenly."

"Did you work the case back then, boss?" Rigsby asked quietly. "I remember hearing about it in the Academy."

"Yeah, back when it was just Cho, Hannigan, and me."

"What's his MO?"

Cho glanced over at Lisbon and cleared his throat. "He kidnaps women from ages fifteen to thirty. Hold them for 72 hours where he slowly tortures them, eventually painting a picture relating to his next victim somewhere near the body, normally with some kind of code."

Van Pelt's face paled considerably.

"That's awful. How … how many victims?"

"Fourteen."

Lisbon pointed towards a pale beach house on the road ahead. "213 Srarksen Place."

"Vicitim is Heather Marks, age twenty two. She lives in Malibu with her parents and one brother."

The team pulled up to the beach house which sat only a few feet from the ocean sands. Several people were crowded around the police tape and it seemed that a news crew was setting up behind it.

The house was big, but cozy on the outside with white wood work and pale blue paneling that matched the ocean in the early morning light.

A young detective in his mid-twenties approached them in a stiff police uniform. His bronze hair was cut short and his still boyish face had round glasses perched on his nose.

"Agent Lisbon with the CBI?"

He extended a hand which Lisbon shook.

"That's me. You were the responding officer?" Lisbon asked, snapping a pair of latex gloves on her hands as they walked inside.

"Erm, yes ma'am. Officer Connor Donnelly. We got a distressed 911 call from the family who was renting the beach house. They caught the body and alerted the people staying next door. She was already like that when we arrived."

Lisbon nodded as she and Jane ventured back into the house with the others just a step behind. The door led into a light and airy kitchen.

"Where's the body?" Cho asked as they looked around the house.

"In the bedroom, but the ME already examined the body and moved it before the SFPD noticed it was part of the Artist's MO," Lisbon answered, rummaging through the mail sitting on the pristine counter.

"Jane, thoughts?"

The consultant was looking out at the ocean from the kitchen window. "Hmm? Oh, a few. Lovely view from here. She was here to escape, unhappy relationship, probably. Parents come from good money, but they didn't get along, probably because she was the 'problem child' of the family."

"Oh, yeah, how'd ya figure?" Donnelly said from the doorway with his arms folded over his chest.

"I'm a consultant, it's what I do," Jane said snappishly. "Lisbon, I think we should see the bedroom before heading out."

"Sure thing, this way." The young and eager officer nodded towards the hallway leading towards the back of the beach house.

Lisbon turned towards the team. "Rigs, Van Pelt, see if anyone saw anything. Any little detail will help."

"Got it, boss," they said together.

She turned and they followed Donnelly towards the bedroom.

"That was a nice thing you did back there, Lisbon," Jane said sincerely as he followed behind her. "Not making Van Pelt and Rigsby see the mess the Artist left behind for us."

"Grow up," she hissed under her breath.

He just smiled, his hand lightly touching the small of her back as they pushed through the partially cracked door into the small bedroom.

Large window allowed the sun to stream through the glint off of the large pooling of blood. The white furniture and nicely made bed was splattered and stained with crimson blood.

Larger pools of blood littered the floor and stretches marked where she struggled. On the wall behind the bed was a small mural.

The picture were cruelly and poorly depicted. It seemed to be a younger girl inside of a cage, floating with her face looking up. There was a backdrop of green and blue patterns behind her. There was a large X over her heart. The number 5,567 was written under the cage in red paint that dripped down like blood to the floor where the now dry paint pooled.

There was silence again as the three detectives moved around the room, all avoiding the mural, except for Jane who stood in the middle of the room, his blue eyes analyzing it.

"What do you think it means?" Donnelly asked him. Jane glanced up at him looking mildly irked.

"No idea. We'll let you know if we find anything, look out for that blood, would you?" Donnelly immediately looked down and Jane turned to Lisbon who was going through the drawers.

"I think I've seen enough Lisbon, can we drive back to the office now?"

She looked up from the drawers and dejectedly shoved it back in. "I send another forensic team down here and have then analyze the scene. In the mean while let's see what Van Pelt and Rigsby have, then we can go home."

The two agents in question stood in front of the house with their small notebooks out and a pile of papers.

"Agent Lisbon! Agent Lisbon. Is it true that the Artist has struck again? Has the killer made any contact with you about his next victims?"

The annoying huff was clearly audible as Lisbon made her way down the stairs. The press was leaning over the tape trying to get as close as possible to the agent.

"This is an ongoing investigation. We are unable to comment at this. If you would please vacate the premise," she said calmly and loudly.

She turned in the yard to the rest of her team. "What do we have?"

"Neighbors saw nothing much. We have a list of people that the witnesses went to for help. There are nine all together on the list," Van Pelt said looking over the packet of printed names in her hands. "Boss, there's an Aurelia Lisbon on this list. Any relation?"

Lisbon frowned slightly and took the paper from the red head's offered hand. Her eyes marked the paper with names and addressed on it.

"None. That's a strange coincidence." She frowned hard for a moment before shaking it off and regaining her boss attitude. "All right, let's pack up and get back to the office. The Artist normally works fasts, so let's get a move on. Officer Donnelly, we'll be in touch for anything your techs may have collected."

"Of course," the younger man said a little too eagerly. Both Jane and Rigsby smirked slightly.

"Come on, Lisbon, let's walk on the sand," Jane said, pulling the cuff of her blazer towards the ocean. "Beautiful, isn't?"

Away from the crime scene, Jane turned to look at the young next to him with a bright smile. "Sure," she said dryly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as the wind blew it in her face.

"Come now, woman, don't you enjoy the ocean?"

Jane stretched dramatically and breathed in the salty. Lisbon rolled her eyes and stuck her hands in the back of her pockets.

"Wanna talk about what's bothering you?"

She turned to glare at Jane. "Nope," she said calmly, turning her face away from his.

"You don't need to always bury your emotions, Lisbon. It's good to let it out once in a while. I'm here if you want to just, you know, let it out."

"Says the pot to the kettle," she quipped lightly.

"Lisbon," he said quietly, his fingers lightly touching her arm. "If you need me…" he trailed off, watching her facial expressions carefully.

She pulled away after a moment of not speaking. "Get in the car, Jane, we have a case to solve."