Yes, so things are starting to get a little complicated for this AU's Jane and some of you seem a little concerned about this. To be clear, this is not "Fugue in Red" Jane (although I am fascinated by that side of the character). He does have a conscience; he's just going to have to wrestle with it a bit.
As with some of my previous chapters, this one is a bit of a mixed bag- some light romantic fluff, along with developments in the storyline I started up in the last chapter. I hope I'm getting the tone right with both, and that switching back and forth within one chapter works for you readers (and alternating between Lisbon's and Jane's POV, as well). Any feedback regarding this would be greatly appreciated!
Settle in a bit and get comfy- this is by far my longest chapter to date! Hope that's okay.
Chapter 9
"Come on, old man! This was your idea, remember?" Lisbon taunted jokingly as she turned back to look at Jane who was now leaning up against a giant Sitka spruce adjacent to the trail. He had stopped to catch his breath just moments before, under the guise of wanting to "take in the fine view". Twenty minutes earlier he had needed a break to retie an errant shoelace; before that it was a prolonged stop to fish the water bottle out of her backpack. For someone so keen to go on this walk in the woods, he didn't seem all that prepared for the rigorous climb he had chosen for them.
They had picked up a copy of the trail map at Cho's shop the afternoon before, and Jane's eyes had immediately been drawn to the description of the "Amelia Trail" which winded its way from the ocean's edge on the south side of town, up the rocky bluffs and into a dense, lush forest, meandering and climbing for a few more miles until it reached its pinnacle- a stone lookout shelter clinging to the edge of the hillside more than 800 feet above sea level.
When Jane had read the description aloud to her, the words strenuous and steep and its moderate – difficult rating certainly jumped out at her. She wasn't worried about this for herself necessarily. Thanks to her faithful adherence to the regimen her physical therapist had laid out for her since her injury, she was back in (almost) top physical shape. But when she had voiced her apprehension about the challenging nature of the trail and suggested an easier one instead, Jane had breezily brushed aside her concerns. Typical male ego, Lisbon mused. Like many of the cops she worked with who had over-inflated perceptions of their physical prowess, he was probably the sort of guy who thought he could just jump out of bed one morning and run a marathon if he wanted to. Not that he was out of shape, per se, just not nearly as fit as he thought himself to be.
She walked back ten paces or so to where he was, his dress pants, rumpled shirt and vest looking more than a little disheveled after their two hours of hiking. She passed him the water bottle with a sympathetic smile, shaking her head slightly.
"You're putting me to shame here, Lisbon," he stated grudgingly. "Are you sure you recently sustained life-threatening injuries?"
"Oh, yeah," she responded dryly, rubbing her slightly aching thigh, "and I've got a collection of beautiful scars to prove it."
"Well, I'm sure it is a beautiful sight, Teresa… one I'd like to see someday," he replied raising his eyebrows wickedly before she smacked him on the arm. The impact jostled the bottle at his lips and sent water dribbling down his chin.
"Aw, thank you for that," he replied as he wiped off his face with the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt.
"Alright. Break time is over, let's keep going," she began. "We're almost to the top, see?" She pulled the map from the side pocket of her pack and held it out to him, pointing to the spider-web of crisscrossing lines on the page. "We just passed the intersection of that trail here, the one that leads to the parking lot."
"The parking lot?" Jane was aghast. "You mean we could have driven here?"
Lisbon couldn't help but laugh at the look of shock that lingered on his face. "Come on," she said, grasping his hand and pulling him up onto his feet again.
They resumed walking side by side, and sure enough within a few minutes the light around them shifted as the trees became more sparse. They were leaving the darkness of the forest behind and approaching the edge of the hill overlooking the water. Within a few more steps the echoing sounds of the waves crashing far below them and the sunlight glittering on the water greeted them as the ocean came into full view, a stunning panoramic that was laid out before them like a giant rolling carpet.
The sky was clear and cloudless and as she looked out Lisbon could see the distant lights of fishing boats so far away they almost seemed to touch the horizon. She glanced over to the side.
"Look there's the stone shelter," she pointed to the right of where they were standing, and they continued up the path another hundred feet or so until they reached the tiny building perched on the side of the hill. Lisbon's heart fluttered when she felt Jane's hand on the small of her back as they entered the narrow doorway into the enclosure and leaned over its glassless window ledge overlooking the Pacific. His arm found its way naturally around her waist and he pulled her in close to his side; she leaned her head in slightly. The soft breeze cooled their faces as they gazed out over the water, the sound of far away gulls and water pounding up against the rocks filled their ears.
Lisbon opened up the trail map that was still in her hand and began examining it studiously. "It says here that the shelter was built in 1933 and that later during World War II it was used as a lookout station to keep watch for Japanese ships and submarines."
"Really? Hm…" Jane listened with a fair amount of interest, although at present he seemed more focused on deftly snaking his other arm under the unfurled map, clasping his fingers together and encircling her body completely, as if securing her in place. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck.
Lisbon fought to keep a straight face and continued reading factoids from the map despite the distraction of his warm breath and stubble grazing her skin. "Oh, and it says here that during the war they installed a giant gun in the floor, probably right where we're standing!" she exclaimed excitedly, scanning the concrete beneath their feet looking for evidence of this.
"Wow, you're really trying to kill the mood here, aren't you Lisbon?" he admonished her in a quiet, joking tone.
"Oh, and what mood is that?" she asked, meeting his gaze brazenly, a playful smirk overtaking her expression.
He turned his body to face her directly and carefully took the paper from her hands, which she relinquished willingly, instantly reading his next move. She kept her eyes trained on his and heard the soft sound of the map hitting the floor, and she closed her eyes as he dipped his head down towards hers.
It started out innocently enough. His hand that was already at her hip remained there, while the other reached up and moved along her shoulder blade to the back of her neck. Their mouths danced lightly at first, then as his hand delved into her hair, she felt the tips of his fingers graze her scalp and the sensation immediately stirred and intensified her own responses. She took the lead, parted his lips with her tongue and plunged in, which enlivened his own reactions as well. Within moments their arms were wrapped one another tightly and he was pulling her body flush to his, leaving her in no doubt of the effect she was having on him.
The mounting intensity was abruptly halted by the sound of two small children running up the path shouting spiritedly at one another. They broke apart before they were discovered, although Lisbon could feel the blush sweeping over her face regardless. By the time the boy and girl and their tired-looking parents reached the shelter, she and Jane had resumed their casual stance at the window, looking outward as if they were nonchalantly taking in the view in front of them. Lisbon began self-consciously tucking her messy hair behind her ears while Jane, as cool as ever, could barely contain his amusement at her flustered behavior.
"Is that your map on the floor?" the woman asked pointing to the large paper that had come to rest in the doorway, the corner fluttering slightly as if it might blow away at any second.
"Yes, thank you," Lisbon responded a little too quickly. She picked it up and smiled sheepishly. "I… must have dropped it."
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jane give her a lively sideways glance, and she immediately felt her face tinge pink once again. She led them out of the tiny building to allow the family their chance inside and they walked down the path a few steps.
"So…" she began, still a little embarrassed that the two of them had almost been caught making out like a couple of horny teenagers. "Do you want to hang out here a little while longer, or are you ready to begin the hike back to town?"
Jane took the map from her hand and scanned it quickly. "I have an even better idea, my dear," he answered mysteriously with an unmistakable glint in his eye. He led them back down the path, and curious to see what he was planning, she followed him gamely. Soon after they reentered the forest, when they had just passed the point where they had stopped earlier, he took a hard right down the short trail that led to the parking lot.
Upon their arrival, Lisbon looked over at him questioningly.
"This lot is the trailhead for more than a half a dozen different paths," he began triumphantly, gesturing to the numerous cars parked in front of them. "There are plenty of people around. I'm sure we'll have no trouble finding someone more than happy to give us a lift back into town."
She looked over at him drolly. "Hitchhiking? Wow, Jane. You really know how to show a girl a good time."
xxxxxxx
Lisbon might have been skeptical about the idea at first, Jane thought about it later on that afternoon, but he was certain that deep down she secretly got a kick out of it. Just as he had predicted, they had only needed to loiter in the parking lot for a few minutes before making the acquaintance of a delightful couple from Tuscon. The husband and wife, along with their toddler son, were enjoying a late lunch at the picnic area adjoining the lot, and after a few minutes of small talk, Jane had smoothly mentioned that he and Teresa had had a long morning of hiking as well; that they had lost track of time and in their current exhausted state (Lisbon rolled her eyes visibly at those words) they were worried about getting back to Cannon River before dark. As if on cue, the wife immediately offered them a ride down and they soon found themselves squished into the back of the couple's hatchback, the child in his car seat wedged between them. Jane had engaged the boy in a game of peek-a-boo with the handkerchief from his vest pocket and at one point he noticed Lisbon watching him with an amused look on her face, chuckling softly as he basically made an idiot out of himself for the highly coveted reward of the child's giggles and squeals.
It had been just over a week since that stormy afternoon Lisbon had first driven him home. As busy as they both were with the summer tourist season that was now kicking their little town into overdrive, they had managed to see each other almost every day since. Sometimes it was just for a simple dinner at one of the local restaurants or a relaxed walk along the beach where they discovered tide pools amongst the rocks filled with starfish and anemones. They even stopped in to visit Sam once at the small shop where she worked down by the bay. She was busy helping customers and couldn't talk long, but a warm introduction was made and an invitation extended to Teresa to come out to the cottage for dinner some night soon, which she graciously and happily accepted. While they were there, Jane had seen Teresa eyeing a speckled cowry shell with great interest, and he made a mental note to come back and buy it for her later.
Their conversations flowed naturally and easily, peppered with a variety of subjects and the back and forth repartee they both obviously enjoyed. One topic that hadn't yet come up, however, was his present occupation in Cannon River. She seemed to be employing a "don't ask/don't tell" policy when it came his business (at least so far), which he was more than happy to go along with. Until the subject inevitably came up, he was grateful for every day they spent together unfettered by this unpleasant complication- especially since he still hadn't decided how to proceed with regards to May Nelson.
He hadn't seen May since that day in the café when he first spotted her, and he had tried to push the whole thing to the back of his mind and focus the business in front of him. Traffic at the shop was still brisk; he typically saw at least a few walk-in clients every day, plus the handful of regulars who were on his schedule for weekly visits. All these customers were small-scale with uncomplicated concerns- people looking for guidance with their romantic relationships, career goals, family, etc. As "psychic advisor" in these situations he simply provided these people with the validation and confidence they needed to make decisions they were probably already going to make on their own anyway, with or without his guidance. There was nothing untoward about it, nothing he would ever lose sleep over.
Cases like May's, however- those were the ones that he coveted the most, but ironically were the ones that he ultimately dreaded as well. Sure, they provided him with the opportunity to flex his skills in finessing and manipulating, especially during communication sessions or séances, when his natural razzmatazz and flair for the dramatic took center stage. He always rationalized his behavior by assuring himself that he was providing people a valuable service in their time of grief, that he giving them hope and positive focus during a difficult period in their lives. Of course the fact that it all was built on a foundation of deception, motivated by his own vanity and greed, would inevitably trigger twinges of guilt afterwards, especially when he worked with people who had suffered real tragedy and loss. But these feelings usually dissipated by the time the checks cleared and he had blown whatever town he was living in at the time. And it wasn't as if he ever left anyone completely destitute in his wake- he only took inordinate sums of money from those who could afford to give it, as if drawing this ethical line in the sand for himself lessened his guilty conscience.
Jane felt uncharacteristically ambivalent and indecisive about what to do, which was troubling in and of itself. The reason why was certainly no mystery, though: Teresa. She might not like what he did for a living, but she was most likely unaware of the depths to which he was willing to sink to score a big mark like May. How would she react if she found out? How much would her reaction really matter to him? They had known each other barely a month, but in that short amount of time he had felt inexplicably drawn to her, had set aside all practical considerations and pursued her fervently, and now was on the verge of developing very real feelings for her. A woman he barely knew - a cop, no less- was suddenly factoring into his thought processes and decision-making. How was this even possible?
In a perfect world, Jane mused uselessly, he would be able to put off making a decision about May indefinitely. But the very next morning soon after he arrived at his shop and begun brewing his first cup of the day in his little electric teakettle, Jane spotted Grace and May together across the street. They were strolling down the sidewalk and heading in his direction. And when he saw Grace pointing out his shop to May and the two of them started making their way across the road, it confirmed what he already suspected with much trepidation- they were coming to see him. Damn.
He finished preparing his tea, took his first tentative sips, and waited for their arrival. By the time they stepped through the open door of his shop a few moments later, he had his game face on and was ready to welcome them in his usual gracious manner.
"Good morning, Jane," Grace greeted him with her customary sunny smile.
"'Morning, Grace," he replied back. "This is a nice surprise."
She nodded and turned towards May. "Well, I wanted to properly introduce you to my friend, May. May Nelson, this is Patrick Jane, Cannon River's newest resident, as well as being a good friend to us over at the café." She gave Jane a little wink as she spoke the word friend and he laughed lightly at her subtle reference to his "friendship" with Lisbon.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, May," Jane said kindly as the two of them shook hands while Grace looked on with satisfaction.
She then gave a quick glance down at her watch. "Well, I've gotta head back to work," she started, "but maybe I'll see you both later?" A small wave and she was out the door.
"Please, May, have a seat, won't you?" He motioned towards the chairs near the window and the two of them sat down opposite one another. "Would you like some tea? I just brewed a pot."
"No, that's fine, thank you," she replied, then paused for a moment, looking down at her hands folded anxiously in her lap. "So… I don't know all what Grace has told you about me…" She let her voice trail off and raised her eyebrows at him expectantly.
Jane nodded. "She mentioned you had a son who passed away, about a year ago?"
"Yes," she answered quietly, "last June."
"Well, I am very sorry for your loss. I can't imagine the pain of losing a child. It must be very overwhelming for you at times."
"It is," she replied simply, her expression stoic and strong.
Jane waited a beat before continuing softly and evenly. "So, May… tell me why you're here."
She seemed a little startled by his directness but also a bit pleased by it as well, like it gave her permission to be upfront with him right from the start. This was by design- it was an opening line Jane often went with. He found it emboldened customers with confidence, gave them the illusion of control that made them more likely to trust him right away.
May looked at him directly. "Well, to be perfectly honest, Mr. Jane, I never really gave much credence to this whole 'psychic' thing before. Like a lot of people, I suppose, I had a very strict religious upbringing that didn't really allow for beliefs in supernatural forces and people who claim to be clairvoyant or 'all seeing'".
"I understand," Jane replied with a small grin and nod.
"But… a few months after Matthew died, Kristina Frye came to me one day, wanting to talk- I imagine you've heard about her. Well, she was a neighbor of mine and had known both Matthew and me for years. And she had this real sense of urgency about her, like there was something she felt almost compelled to tell me.
"I invited her to the house that evening and when she came, she said that she had a message for me… from Matt; that he wanted me to know that he was alright… that at the end…" May's voice broke slightly and she took a steeling breath to collect herself before continuing. "That at the end, he didn't feel any pain; that it was over quickly and he hadn't suffered." May paused again. "That was one question I had about the accident that I had agonized over the most- imagining him in that water…"
The tears that she had been holding at bay finally seeped out, and Jane reached over and handed her a tissue from the box on the end table. She took it, dabbed her eyes and smiled gratefully at him.
"Anyway, I don't really know how to explain it, I just had a feeling that what Kristina was saying was real; that Matt was somehow communicating through her," May continued, her voice full of conviction. "Like I said before, I had never really believed this kind of thing was possible, but then all of a sudden it was..."
"Was Kristina able to communicate with Matthew again?" Jane asked gently after a moment.
"No," May replied with pained disappointment in her voice. "She tried a few times but wasn't able to reach him."
Of course she wasn't, Jane thought sardonically. Wow, he had to hand it to Kristina Frye- she had played May masterfully, hooking her in by appealing to her deepest fears, then stringing her along perfectly. She'd probably still be bleeding the woman dry if she hadn't left town to take her "talents" elsewhere.
"So, how can I be of help to you, May?" Jane asked, his tone calm and neutral.
"I think I'd like to try again. Maybe you would be able to… find him. I think Kristina called it… a communication session or something like that?" she asked tentatively.
"Yes, that's right," Jane answered, then he paused uncertainly, too. A sickening feeling was stirring in his gut, but the next words came out of his mouth as if he were on autopilot, unable or unwilling to stop them.
"Well, I can't make any promises, you understand, but I could certainly try my best to make contact with him."
"That's all I ask, Mr. Jane, thank you!" May responded, her voice flooded with relief and hope as tears pooled in her eyes once more.
"Call me Patrick, please," he replied.
"Patrick," she repeated with another smile as she stood up, preparing to leave. "Um, do you have a business card with your phone number so I can call you when I'm ready…?" her voice trailed off.
Jane walked to the table by the door, grabbed one of his brochures with his card stapled to the front, and handed it to her. "Here is my card, along with some more information regarding my services… and the various associated fees." The bile in his stomach churned once more. God, what the hell was he doing?
"Well, thank you, Patrick!" she replied, almost happily. "I'll be in touch soon."
He smiled kindly and shook her hand goodbye, maintaining his composure until she left and he had closed the door behind her. He locked the deadbolt and his face fell sharply.
He immediately began pacing the room restlessly for a few moments, unable to sit still. He unconsciously clinched and released his right hand a few times, then grabbed his cup of now-lukewarm tea off the table and took it to the backroom where he dumped it forcefully down the sink. He placed his hands on the edge of the counter and leaned forward. Get a grip, he told himself sharply. This is fine; nothing that you haven't done a hundred times before, he reassured himself. This woman is in real pain and you're going to help her, that's all.
Jane breathed in deeply and refilled the teakettle and plugged it into the wall; he tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter as he waited for the water to boil. He was finally starting to feel calm again, his breathing more steady and his pulse regulated. Thinking back to the look on May's face when she had left and her overall demeanor, he knew she would probably be calling him within a matter of days, perhaps even later that very afternoon. Despite his present misgivings, he needed to be practical and consider what the next steps should be.
He'd arrange a preliminary meeting with her first, something he usually did before staging the actual communication session itself. For this first sit-down, he knew he could get by with just doing a basic cold reading on her; it would be easy and probably convincing enough. However, whenever the situation allowed, he always liked to go into that first session with as much information as possible- personal details and tidbits about the person that would lend credibility and weight to the whole affair.
He remembered a few of the things Grace mentioned the week before that might be useful, but it wasn't enough. And he definitely couldn't go back and pump her for any more information; doing so, however stealthily, would increase the likelihood of Teresa finding out what he was doing. The very thought of that happening was so dreaded he shoved it into the back of his mind immediately and locked it up tight.
Then suddenly it occurred to him: there was someone who could almost certainly be of assistance and would probably be more than happy to help him by giving him the information he needed. It wasn't ideal, he grimaced, but it was the best and only lead he had.
A few minutes later he closed up the shop, headed down the sidewalk and turned onto the side street that led towards the pub.
Okay- please don't be too mad at Jane… or me! Things will work out for the best in the end, trust me. But it can't be all smooth sailing now, can it?
Thanks for staying with me on this! (Please stay with me on this :))
