Thanks for all the tremendous feedback on the last chapter! I'm glad people seem to like the developments on both the romantic and non-romantic fronts- I'm certainly enjoying writing them both, as well as showing both Jane and Lisbon's perspectives as their story progresses.
That being said, this chapter is much shorter than the last one and narrower in its scope. Real life has left little time for writing this week, but I wanted to give you something, and I hope you'll enjoy the reappearance of a certain character we all love to hate…
Chapter 10
Jane hadn't spoken to Erica Flynn since that day he had come to the pub soon after his arrival in Cannon River. He may have caught a glimpse of her a time or two walking down the main road on her way to the market, and then there was an afternoon a few weeks earlier when she strolled past his shop and peered in while he was in the middle of doing a reading with someone. He had smiled appreciatively and given her cursory nod, which seemed to please her. But the two hadn't actually talked since that afternoon all those weeks ago when she had given him an earful regarding Teresa Lisbon- and had flirted fiercely with him.
As he approached the pub it occurred to him that there was a very distinct possibility she would be feeling slightly miffed at his inattention towards her. After all, he had flirted with her just as shamelessly as she had with him that day, and the fact that he hadn't returned to see her (before today) probably struck her as vaguely insulting. By the time he reached the entrance to the bar, he had mentally prepared himself for this likelihood and readied himself to lay on the charm, big time. He felt confident, though, that with a few flattering words and the proper finessing, he would be able to smooth over any ruffled feathers he needed to and that in no time at all her loose lips would be flapping once more.
From the moment he entered the dimly-lit place Jane could tell that she was aware of him striding towards her, although she was very intent on pretending not to be. They were completely alone save for a waitress setting up chairs outside on the patio. Erica was standing behind the bar slicing lemons and limes on a cutting board and tossing the slices into small bins nearby. She kept her eyes trained on the task in front of her and didn't speak until he was within just a few feet her; and even then she didn't look up until he sat down on a stool right in front of where she was working.
"Well, as I live and breathe, it's Patrick Jane." She gazed up at him, her eyes ablaze with a smoldering mixture of thinly veiled hostility and desire. "I was about to give up on you, you know."
Yep, she was upset with him all right.
"Hello, Erica," he began in his best conciliatory tone. "It's been much too long, I apologize. I could give you a whole song and dance about how I've been too busy to come by and see you again, and even though that's mostly true, I know you're not the kind of woman who would tolerate that kind of garden-variety excuse."
She pursed her lips petulantly and tilted her head to the side before responding.
"Oh, I know you've been busy, Patrick. Business is booming, from what I hear, and I'm happy for you, really. I'm sure you deserve all the success in the world." Her words seemed friendly enough, but the edge in her voice was still apparent.
"Well, thank you, Erica. I appreciate that," he replied with a sheepish smile. He noticed the corner of her mouth quirk upwards.
"I've also heard the talk about the company you've been keeping after hours as well," she began, arching one brow upwards as she tossed a handful of fruit into the bin pointedly. "Teresa Lisbon, hhuh? I can't say I was as happy about that particular piece of news. I guess you could say I was a bit… surprised, to say the least."
Jane paused before responding, choosing his words carefully to avoid antagonizing Erica further. "Well, I know she might not be your favorite person, but there's always more to people than meets the eye."
"Oh to be sure. I've learned a little bit more about her since we last talked," Erica started, as she wiped her hands on a towel and leaned across the bar towards him. "Bret told me she's a cop, or was a cop? I don't know; I'm sure there's probably some very dramatic story to all that. But, in any case, Patrick- I hope you don't mind me saying this- but someone in law enforcement? That's the very last type of person I'd picture you with."
"Oh really?" he replied curiously, deciding to take her bait, "And, what kind of person would you picture instead?"
Erica glanced down demurely and smirked to herself before returning her eyes to him and meeting his gaze intently. "Someone who sees the world the way you do; someone who can appreciate the shades of gray that exist rather than some goody-two-shoes cop who probably see everything in black and white."
Jane said nothing, just raised his eyebrows and nodded appreciatively, knowing how much it would stroke her ego if he appeared to at least partly agree with her. His subtle encouragement spurred her on and he noticed her icy demeanor starting to thaw as she continued.
"You, Patrick Jane, are a hustler; I imagine you're always moving around from place to place, using your brains to get by; never staying anywhere long enough to put down any kind of roots. I suppose there would be something undeniably alluring to you about the prospect of being with someone like Teresa Lisbon, a person who is so much your opposite. Don't worry; I won't hold it against you."
Jane smiled at Erica's assessment of his relationship with Lisbon. She wasn't totally off base with what she was saying- at least in her estimation of him and his nomadic lifestyle.
"You're a very perceptive woman, Erica. Perhaps you should be in my line of work."
"Well, I've been behind this bar long enough to be able to read people pretty well. I've seen all types, and I had you pegged as a grifter from the moment you walked in here." A calm, self-satisfied smile spread across her face as she stood upright and began neatly folding the towel in her hands.
"So," she began then paused for dramatic effect, "why you don't tell me why you're here?"
Jane looked at her questioningly.
"It's eleven in the morning on a weekday, Patrick. I'm pretty sure you're not here for a drink, and I haven't seen you in weeks, so you must have a very specific reason for stopping by like this."
"Again, very observant, I like that," Jane replied, duly impressed by her discerning nature as well as her direct approach. "As a matter of fact, I am looking for some information on someone and I figured you'd be the ideal person to ask."
"Not a big fan of Google then, I take it?" she asked with a smirk.
"No," he answered with a small laugh, shaking his head. "And the insight I'm looking for is of a more… nuanced, personal nature."
Erica was positively intrigued. "Who is that you're wondering about?"
"Matthew Nelson."
"Matthew? Why do you want- ?" She expression shifted from one of confusion to dawning recognition. "Oh, I get it. You're pulling one over his mother, aren't you?"
"I am… working with her, yes," he replied simply. "She came to me and asked for my help."
"I'm afraid I don't know how I can be of much help to you," she began in an even, almost listless tone. "He was just a kid; I didn't even know him."
"Well, that isn't quite true," Jane began gently. "You see, Erica, the moment I said his name your expression softened and the corners of your mouth turned down a bit as if you were saddened by me mentioning him. You knew him; maybe not very well, but you did know him. Matthew was eighteen years old. You own one of the only bars in Cannon River, and in a small town like this where there isn't much for teenagers to do, I'm guessing that he and his friends were in here every Friday or Saturday night; probably trying to get you to serve them beer or at the very least, eating their weight in nachos and playing pool or darts in that backroom of yours."
Erica smiled faintly. "Well, now it's my turn to be impressed. You are very good, Patrick." She waited for a moment, as if carefully considering whether or not she was going to talk, but Jane knew he had her. She was ready to tell him whatever he wanted to know.
"You're right. Matthew and his friends came in here all the time. A couple of his buddies had some pitiful fake IDs and tried to buy booze a few times, but not Matt. I got the feeling he was kind of a straight arrow, the one who would rein the others in if they got a little rowdy or kept the peace if trouble came up. He had a good head on his shoulders, that's for sure."
"Sounds like it- mature, focused?"
"Yeah, although he was still such a kid in some ways, too," she continued with a little laugh.
"How so?"
"Well, he used to order grilled cheese sandwiches- off of the children's menu, mind you- and he would always cut them into little triangles and trim off the crusts. I asked him about it once; he said he got the idea from some book he read when he was little and a character who ate a bunch of tiny sandwiches, cut up all fancy… watercress, I think it was?" Erica snorted a small laugh. "It was just this funny, goofy thing he used to do, but it's something I remember about him so vividly in my mind."
As she spoke, Jane noticed Erica's normally cool, controlled expression had warmed somewhat. It was clear she had been fond of the kid.
"Memories are like that, I suppose," Jane began thoughtfully. "Some are so carefully constructed and preserved, while others that are seemingly random and obscure can remain just as clear in our minds."
Erica nodded simply then straightened herself up, her poised, nonchalant demeanor returning once more.
"I don't really have much else I can tell you off-hand, Patrick," she began enticingly, "but come by again sometime and maybe something will… jog my memory." Her darkened eyes locked with his, and he held her stare for a moment before he got up to leave.
"Until next time, then," he smiled and turned to go.
When he exited the pub moments later and felt the warmth of the late-morning sun hit his face, he closed his eyes briefly and exhaled soundly. He hadn't gotten a lot of information from Erica, but certainly a sufficient amount for him to make use of during his initial meeting with May.
More than anything, though, he was just grateful to have emerged from their little exchange unscathed. Her hostility towards him at the beginning had taken him aback a bit; her jealousy and wounded pride were more deeply felt than he had anticipated. By the end of their ensuing conversation, she had seemed pacified by his overtures, although not enough to make he him feel completely at ease.
This woman was a wildcard, that was for sure, and Jane knew she could be downright dangerous if he got on her bad side.
Next up: Lisbon spends some quality time with Sam and Pete...
Thanks for the continued feedback and support!
