Chapter two
FB
Drunk club goers and sore but happy clients laughed as they passed Patrick on his way to the front door.
"Pyjama night was last month,"
"He's sleep clubbing,"
"He wants the music turned down."
Were some of the more polite things called to him but he ignored everyone. At the door he demanded to be allowed in.
"No drunks," the large doorman had said over and over to Patrick while smiling and joking with other customers. One small Latino man pinched his bum as he left with a large group. Patrick watched intently as the big man pouted at him and frowned as he walked away. After the man had gone Patrick said,
"If you let me in I'll tell you how to show him you love him."
"I don't know what you're talking about," the bouncer muttered checking his nails and turning to face the other way.
Patrick had smiled and that was how he got in.
Once inside he went straight into the club and he stood in the corner by the bar. It must have been nearly four in the morning but the place was still heaving. Only strobe lighting lit the room, except for fake candle lighting over the long bar. The music had a heavy beat but was fairly romantic so couples filled the dance floor. Men and woman queued to strut their stuff in a cage. Patrick looked around searching for the right man. A couple of men tried to chat him up as he stood against the wall but he knew they were not what he wanted so he bluntly told them to move away. Then a couple asked him for a threesome and that peaked his interest but again neither of them had the raw, hungry eyes he knew his wife had seen . . . he took a controlled breath and waved them away.
Suddenly the crowd cheered and parted and a tiny woman appeared by his side. She didn't look at him but just watched the crowd with him.
"New here?" she asked,
"Busy," was all he said,
"I'm Melanie and this is my club." She said.
"I know,"
"Really? How do you know that? I would've remembered you if you'd been here before."
"I saw how the crowd reacted to you. Easy deduction."
"Well some people are worried about you," she said and turned to look him up and down. He ignored her.
"What are you looking for?"
"I want to hurt," he said and looked her daringly in the eye. She was dressed in tight black leather but her skin glowed white with makeup. Her lips were thin and coated in a dark purple lipstick.
"Why?" she said not in the least bit put off by his blunt reply.
"Why does it matter to you?"
"You're an attractive man maybe I'm interested," Patrick laughed,
"You don't have what I want."
"And what's that?"
He looked her up and down and smiled darkly in answer, his lips pressed tightly together.
"I can do better than the real thing," she said seductively and ran her hand up his chest and down his arm, all the way to his hand. Her fingertips wrapped around his wedding ring and he pulled away, bringing it up to his chest, protecting it.
"Well now, I am intrigued." She said lowering her hand and turning to face the room again.
Patrick looked past her to where a tall, broad shouldered man was sneering over a small, scared looking man. Melanie followed his gaze and frowned. She huffed and stormed over to them. After a rather short conversation the man reddened and left. Patrick's' eyes followed him as he stormed towards the exit, shoving past people.
"Perfect," he thought,
"This was who I need."
Melanie returned to Patrick's side just as he straightened off the wall and started to follow.
"Woo, hey where you going?" she questioned holding onto his arm.
"To get what I need." He said and pulled free.
"Well," he heard her say before the crowd swallowed him.
As he tried to walk out the door though Paulie wrapped his thick arms around him, lifted him clean off the ground and started carrying him to the right of the building: down a corridor where whimpers and screams penetrated the walls. Patrick shouted and struggled but he was no match for the soft-spoken bouncer.
"Relax I thought this was what you wanted." Melanie cooed. Patrick froze and then struggled harder, suddenly terrified.
"Let me go!" he tried to scream but not sound much escaped with his face pressed tight into the muscled chest of Paulie.
The large man dropped Patrick and landed sandwiched between the bouncer and something cold and metal. The big guy stepped back, twirled him around and quickly tied him to whatever it was.
"You look too nice to want a session with the beast," he said sadly and then left. Melanie stood by the door watching him.
Patrick steadied his breathing – this is what he was here for. So he hadn't chosen the guy so what? It's not as if his wife . . . Patrick pulled his thoughts from that dark place and waited, staring expectantly at Melanie. She slid a graceful step closer to the door, reached out and banged it three times.
Patrick held his breath as it opened slowly.
END FB
"Remember this?" Melanie asked Jane and tapped a metal restraint shaped like a cross. Lisbon's breathe caught in her throat as she imagined her irritating (and disobedient) consultant tied to it: stilled, helpless and finally under her control.
Melanie watched her reaction with interest.
"Yes," he answered shortly and Lisbon forced herself to focus on the case, not on Jane's past.
"We'll ask the questions," she said forcefully.
"Of course how can I help you detective?"
"It's agent, Agent Lisbon,"
"FBI?"
"CBI. We are investigating the murder of a possible client of yours."
"Did you bring a picture? Most of my clients are so shy," she smiled at Jane and Lisbon felt confused and angrily possessive.
"George Edwards." She answered and pulled a photo from the folder she'd been carrying.
"Oh Liam," Melanie ran a finger over the photo gently and sighed,
"He was so young. What happened?"
"We think someone from his office found out he was gay," Jane answered.
"That would be enough – he was always talking about the lowlife scum his brother-in-law hired on the cheap. But how would they have found out? Liam was always so careful?"
"That's what we were hoping you could help us with."
"How? Liam varied the days and times he visited. He'd park and eat at that little café down the road, walk here and hire out a motel near there. He always paid us in cash, never took a receipt."
"In the past month has he gotten into any fights or arguments?"
"No I don't think so Paulie?"
"No Melanie I never saw him argue with anyone."
"Can we speak to his …?" Jane hesitated and flushed,
"Sure sugar, Liam had a sub … the beast,"
FB
In the doorway stood the tallest, bulkiest man Patrick had ever seen. He wore leather trousers with silver stubs down the sides. Two silver studded strips of leather crossed his chest and his face was covered by a leather mask that had eye, nose and mouth slits. Every inch of skin not covered by leather had a tattoo covering it – a fire breathing dragon, a skeleton riding a motorbike; classic hard man. His teeth were barred and he huffed caveman style as he entered the room. Taking long deliberate strides he was soon an inch away, almost pressing against Patrick.
The physic forced himself to breathe deeply and stare into the cold, emotionless eyes. The stench of leather clogged his nose and caught in his throat. Tied as he was he had nowhere to go to escape it. The man huffed again and his breath sat on Patricks face hot and musty. He tensed further and closed his eyes as the beast slowly moved his hand. He placed it under Patrick's pyjama top and gently squeezed the soft muscles above his stomach. The touch was too much for Patrick who suddenly cried out,
"Stop, please, stop, I don't want this, stop, stop," like a bursting dam Patrick couldn't stop himself.
Melanie clicked her fingers and the beast backed away, head down and fell onto his knees. Patrick missed it too busy trying to breathe through tears and relief. He was shocked when Melanie said,
"Good boy," and rubbed her hand over the giants head. The kneeling man whimpered and rested his head against her breasts (even knelt he was that tall next to her).
"Are you alright?" she said now speaking to Patrick who wanted to cry again at the question.
"I don't want to hurt." He whispered shamed.
"I realised as much. May I ask why you thought you did?"
"I should do, I want to want to,"
"Because of your wife?" she guessed. Patrick looked from her to the man kneeling at her feet.
"Timmy needs a little comforting after I asked him to play brute – he doesn't like it much but you can just ignore him."
And Patrick found he did very easily. Unable to move, tied in an uncomfortable position he told her all about the past two weeks and Melanie and Timmy listened in silence without judgement.
End FB
Melanie laughed at his flinch and the harsh sound grated on Lisbon.
"Where is he?" she asked,
"Where I left him," Melanie leisurely got to her feet and motioned them to follow her.
"Timmy's not your sub anymore?" Jane asked,
"Sugar Timmy's anyone's sub. That's why I have to keep such a close eye on him."
"I don't understand," Lisbon admitted."
"Agent, Timmy is kinda like a big kid only instead of wanting toys and candy he wants toys and cock."
"Blunt Melanie," Jane complained,
"Yes I am sugar." She took them further down the corridor. Paulie had disappeared somewhere. Finally she unlocked a door marked private. A screen hid the room from view and considering the pornographic sounds Lisbon and Jane were very grateful.
"Wait here – unless you think you can handle it?" she dared and Jane backed Lisbon outside again,
"We'll wait out here," he said and closed the door.
"What the hell Jane?" Lisbon may not have wanted to take the small irritating woman up on her offer but she didn't appreciate Jane making her mind up.
"You didn't want to look," he said,
"Maybe I did,"
"Really?" Lisbon stopped her instinctual reaction long enough to ask,
"What's in there?"
"Sounded like a fu . . . you know what why don't you go see for yourself? "
"You're right I don't wanna know." She agreed.
They waited in the corridor for a long time before the door opened again. Timmy A.K.A the beast stood before them wearing his leather mask and oddly a loose t-shirt and baggy trousers. Melanie stood pressed against his side and Jane saw him visible fight to stay on his feet – Lisbon's forceful personality sending 'submit' vibes through him.
"Timmy I need to ask you some questions about George Edwards." She showed him the picture and waited for a response. Melanie nudged him,
"Yes ma'am," he said and Lisbon frowned,
"Can we talk to you alone?" Patrick watched as the giant of a man flinched and pressed closer to Melanie.
"That'll be just fine Timmy, you answer all their questions and I'll be right in there if you need me. Patrick will come get me ok?" she said gently. Timmy tensed as she went back through the door.
"Ok Timmy can you tell me about the last time you saw George. Was he acting any differently?" Agent Lisbon automatically softened her voice and spoke gently.
"No ma'am … he treated me the same way as always." Lisbon fought to keep from asking more about that,
"He didn't say or do anything out the ordinary?" Timmy hesitated just long enough for Patrick to consider getting Melanie,
"It's ok you're not going to get in trouble," Lisbon seemed to be treating him like she would a victim or grieving family.
"Ma'am … he was upset about something."
"Do you know what?"
"Yes ma'am his brother-in-law had asked him to not see his girlfriend anymore. Liam said Artie said she was getting too serious."
"Anything else?"
"No ma'am,"
"Ok thank you for your time. If you think of anything else please give me a call ok?" she handed him a card, ignoring the red marks around his wrists.
They started back down the long corridor but looked back at the sound of a soft thud. Timmy was on his knees, hands on the floor head pressed against Melanie as she stroked his mask.
"Are you going to tell me how you know those people?" Lisbon asked when they were outside and nearing the car. He stayed quiet.
"You want me to guess?" she questioned with a wicked grin. Jane stood by the passenger side of the car and looked across it to stare seriously at her.
"After the funeral I wanted to hurt and die. Melanie helped me see I wanted revenge more." He said quickly and got in the car leaving a concerned Lisbon staring at where he'd been. When she got in the car she drove off, trying to think of something to say.
Ten minutes later Lisbon's phone rang.
"Lisbon?"
"You shouldn't use that while driving," Jane said,
"Really?" Lisbon said into the handset ignoring him,
"Ok then." Jane went back to staring out the window.
"Alright get Rigsby to hang around for the report. I'll see you back at the office," she hung up and looked over at Jane,
"What?"
"That was Van Pelt. Police found the body of Hannah Berk a couple of hours ago. She was the receptionist Artie told us about. Apparently she committed suicide. Her note said she killed him after he told her he was gay and broke up with her."
"So that's the end of the case?" Jane was irritated he had opened himself up for ridicule by taking Lisbon to that place for no reason but he didn't show it. He just sat at back in his seat and acted like he was looking forward to a rest before the next case.
"I'll have Rigsby check the coroners report but yea looks like," Lisbon wished all cases was as easy and looked across at where Jane seemed to already be fast asleep. She knew him too well to be taken in by his nonchalant act but she let him, wanting a peaceful drive so she could think about what he had told her. He had spoken at length about his plans to kill Red John but she had always hoped it was a dream. She didn't want to be the one to arrest him – or worse find his body if he ever achieved it and was still suicidal. She would have to stay close and if the time came be there to try and talk him out of it. Remind him he had friends and a life.
FIN