Author's notes:

Thank you to the great writer Sue Shay for all her support, encouragement, and guidance! In particular for this chapter, Sue pointed out in her beta read some wording that had an - ahem - unintended meaning. Thank you, Sue, for spotting that big problem and for all your help! Be sure to read the latest posts, Chapters 52 and 53, for her romance-and-family story, "Ready or Not."

I do not own the TV show The Mentalist and get no compensation from it. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes only.

This chapter contains a clash between Patrick Jane and Luther Wainwright. Readers who have seen episode 4x23, "Red Rover, Red Rover," may notice a slight resemblance to a Jane-Wainwright clash in that episode, although the role of who starts it is reversed.

Notes on the chapter title follow the end of the chapter.

Chapter 15: Remind Me

Teresa insisted on joining Patrick at the crime scene, but she regretted it after seeing how Red John had dealt with Tom Wilcox. She couldn't muster sympathy for a killer like Wilcox, but the macabre scene they found turned her stomach. She marveled that her old self could hold together dealing with something that gruesome.

Back at CBI she sat at the table next to the bullpen, drinking stale coffee and watching the team flit back-and-forth from phone to conversation to computer screen. Her evening dress stood in stark contrast to everything around her.

Slowly people began to gather at the table. Rigsby, Cho, Van Pelt, and at last Patrick, who exchanged a brief glance with her. The best she could manage was a weak smile while she thought about what might have been. While the other three were distracted looking at photos, Patrick reached over to pat her hand.

A noise at the edge of the bullpen area drew everyone's attention. Luther Wainwright entered the area, his hands clenching as he moved over to the others. When he got to the front seat at the table, he moved his eyes around to everyone and glared them into their seats. Everyone except Patrick of course who took his time to sit down. Teresa heard the insistent tapping of Wainwright's shoe under the table as he waited for him to take his seat.

"The lab is processing the material we…" Cho began his report but Wainwright waved him off.

"The lab work will confirm what we all know to be true. Isn't that right, Jane?"

As Patrick looked up to respond, she wanted to reach out to him. The eyes that mere hours ago twinkled with delight as they danced now hung low. He had transformed from joyful Patrick to joyless Jane. Where before she had felt rising passion welling up inside, now all she wanted to do was comfort him, pull him into her arms.

"It's Red John. I have no doubt either."

"Red John sent me this email from an anonymous account an hour ago." Wainwright held up a piece of paper.

Van Pelt started to speak, but Wainwright waved his hand to silence her before she even spoke.

He may have intimidated Van Pelt, but he didn't deter Patrick.

"You're sure, Luther?"

Teresa winced. She heard the condescension in his voice.

"Yes, I'm sure. See for yourself." He handed copies to everyone around the table. Teresa looked over Van Pelt's shoulder to read it.

"Dear Supervising Agent Wainwright,

I am a jealous man. I crave attention, and when someone else steals it from me I react poorly. I especially take it badly when someone of Tom Wilcox' ilk commands so much of your time and effort. You forced me to act, but look on the bright side. I took care of a problem for you; we all know he was guilty of murder. Murder poorly done? Yes, especially compared to my work, but he was a murderer none the less. You devoted far too many resources to such a small miscreant. You should thank me! I await your congratulations for me on a job well done. You do plan on congratulating me, don't you, Luther? Welcome to the big leagues, kid.

With warmest regards,

Red John"

"He's taunting you, you know that," said Patrick.

"And his arrogance will be his downfall. I have a plan, but it must begin tonight while the situation is still fresh."

"What's your plan?" Cho looked up from his copy of the email.

"I've pieced together information from a number of different sources, and I now believe Red John's base of operations is in a small community outside of Salinas."

"Outside of Salinas?"

"Yes. Two nights ago there was a fire in a warehouse there. It destroyed most of the interior but not all. I'd already had my eye on it as a building used by Red John and his minions. The fire would seem to be an accident, and I suspect there are further clues about Red John and his organization there. I don't see how Red John can go back there because of all the attention it has received."

"So what do you plan to do?" asked Cho.

"I want to go there to sift through the debris looking for clues, turn up something more than what the locals have found."

"Have you told the local law enforcement that you're gonna do that?"

"No. I have reason to suspect some of them may be in league with Red John. I don't know who to trust."

Teresa could see Patrick shaking his head. Wainwright noticed too.

"Something not sound right about my analysis?"

"No, your analysis could be correct. Of course I haven't seen the evidence you've put together."

"Ah, yes. You've been preoccupied lately. You've not followed the Red John case with your usual intensity." Wainwright curled his tongue around "preoccupied" in a way that put Teresa on edge. She noticed Patrick tense up as well. "So what doesn't sound right, Jane?"

"Your plan. I agree with you that Red John has recruited many people in law enforcement to work with him; he certainly could have some of the locals there working for him. But you going there alone doesn't sound right, something doesn't add up about this. Have you considered that this is a setup of some sort?"

"Precisely why I intend to not go alone. Agent Rigsby, am I to understand that earlier in your career you were an arson investigator?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then you'll come with me." The unease around the table heightened. The rest of the team cast concerned looks at Rigsby.

"So you think the two of you going alone to this warehouse will produce results?" Patrick continued to shake his head.

"No, the three of us will produce results. I want you to join us, Jane."

Teresa's heart skipped a beat. She fought every urge inside her to yell "no."

"I want Red John more than any of the rest of us do, but something just doesn't seem right."

"Here's what's not right, Jane. You. I'd have thought that nothing would distract you from pursuing the killer of your wife and daughter. I guess I was wrong. Lately you have been preoccupied."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Teresa saw the two men staring at each other with a white hot heat.

"Although I never would have suspected it until now, I guess you've moved on from your dead family. After all, it's been a few years. A decent interval has passed. Then something comes up that allows you to act on what you've wanted for a long time. You and Agent Lisbon together. Forget your wife, forget your daughter. Now the two of you can pursue what you both want and the rest of the world can just go to hell. Angela and Charlotte Jane, they're only footnotes in a police report. Ancient history as far as you and Lisbon are concerned."

Luckily for Wainwright, Cho and Rigsby were sitting on either side of Patrick when he lunged across the table. As they reacted to grab him, his fist swung within an inch of Wainwright's jaw. Patrick clawed at the table as Cho and Rigsby pulled him back, digging in his fingernails along the surface with one hand while reaching out to grasp at Wainwright's neck with his other.

"You sonofabitch. You sonofabitch. How dare you say what you said about Teresa Lisbon."

Cho and Rigsby got Jane to settle down.

I can't handle this.

Teresa glanced at Patrick the same time he looked at her. The silent message between the two of them was the same - "I'm sorry." She got up from her chair to move away from the others, and she felt tears edging the corners of her eyes. All of the strength, the confidence she had had the other day in meeting with Wilcox had vanished. What replaced it was a mix of rage, fear, and hurt.

She saw Cho and Rigsby loosen their grip on Patrick. Big mistake. As everyone else looked at Teresa retreat across the floor, Patrick turned back to Wainwright. This time he lunged without the quick response of Cho and Rigsby. His body hurtled across the table without restraint as his right fist crashed into Wainwright's jaw. Surprise flashed across his face the instant before Patrick made contact. Momentum carried both men backwards onto the floor as Patrick slammed him with another punch.

As she made her way out of the area Teresa glanced back one more time to see all three Musketeers round the table to separate the two men.

Patrick rolled on the floor with Wainwright as Cho shouted at him. Slowly he became aware of three pairs of hands pulling Wainwright and him apart. Rigsby and Van Pelt, each grasping one of his arms, forced him into a chair. Even after he was seated, they kept his arms restrained.

Yeah, if I were them I'd keep me held down. I can't even trust myself right now.

Cho lifted Wainwright off the floor and handed him a tissue to deal with the trickle of blood that appeared at the corner of his mouth. After taking the tissue from Cho, he waved him off. He looked over at Patrick, still restrained.

"You know, I could arrest you for assaulting an officer. There's a lot of people who'd line up to shake my hand if I did that."

"Go ahead. Have Cho handcuff me and take me down to a holding cell. It was worth it. It felt good."

Wainwright moved right in front of Patrick and lowered himself so they could look at each other eye to eye. Patrick noticed that Cho hovered around Wainwright's back.

Ha! Cho thinks Wainwright is gonna hit me back while Rigsby and Van Pelt are holding me.

"Jane, I'm not going to arrest you. As a matter of fact, I want Rigsby and Van Pelt to release you. But before they do that, I want to apologize to you. I wanted to get you focused on this situation with Red John, but the means I used was perhaps er…overzealous. I deserved what I got."

"To say the least."

Patrick tugged at Rigsby and Van Pelt's hands.

"Let him go, agents. I'll take my chances with Jane. I hope both he and I can have a civil conversation now."

Patrick felt the hands that held him down lift away.

"Yes, you were an arrogant ass in what you said. And a son of a bitch." He looked around and saw that Teresa had left the area completely. "I don't care about myself, but there was no point in bringing Agent Lisbon into this."

Wainwright crossed his arms while looking at Patrick, deep in thought. Then his face softened.

"Jane…Patrick…come with me up to my office."

Patrick saw Cho glance back and forth between Wainwright and him. He could tell that Cho wasn't at all sure about leaving the two of them alone.

"Don't worry, Cho. I won't attack Wainwright while we're alone. I'm under control again."

Wainwright's at least partly right. Since Teresa's attack, I have behaved differently. My emotions have gotten the better of me including tonight.

Wainwright nodded to Cho, and he beckoned Patrick to walk with him. When they boarded the elevator and the door closed, Wainwright glanced at Patrick.

"You've got quite a punch for an old codger."

"And you've got limited mobility for a young whipper-snapper."

The elevator dinged, the door opened, and the two men proceeded down the hall to Wainwright's office, the office of the Supervising Agent. Once inside, Patrick watched as he went to a side door and opened it.

I'd never noticed that before. It must be a private work area.

Wainwright signaled for Patrick to join him, and they entered a cramped room. He hit a light switch, and a single bare light bulb turned on overhead. In the middle of the room was a plain wooden table with one straight-back chair beside it. Wainwright reached into the main office to pull in a second chair.

What Patrick saw floored him. On the wall were cork boards and marker boards. Scattered across them were police reports, crime scene photos, and hand-written notes and diagrams. On the table were stacks of files. A glance revealed that everything in the room had one thing in common - Red John.

Wainwright motioned for Patrick to take a seat in the second chair.

"I haven't shown this to anyone else. I wouldn't show it to anyone else, not even the President of the United States. You're the first."

"Looks like you're quite the authority on Red John."

"I am. I'm confident I now know more than you do about Red John, although I'm sure there are specifics you still know better than I do. I've been spending months developing all of this."

"So…why bring me up here?"

"Two reasons. The first is I wanted to convince you that I've put considerable thought into my analysis and plan."

Patrick motioned to the stack of files to get Wainwright's permission to look at them. When Wainwright nodded, he opened several to glance through them. After a few moments, he looked up at Wainwright again.

"I do believe that you've done your homework. All of this proves that you're serious. What was the second reason you brought me up here?"

"I need to be able to trust someone. To bring someone else in on this."

"I thought you were suspicious of me, that maybe I was in league with Red John."

"At one point I considered that idea, but what it boils down to is that I've got to trust someone. You're the best candidate I could come up with."

"That may not speak well of your situation." Patrick's laugh conveyed no joy, only the hint of gallows humor.

"I figured that you would never forgive let alone embrace the man who killed your family."

That logic does make some sense.

"If that's what you felt, then why did you say what you did downstairs?"

"Like I said, to focus you. To get your attention. Because of Lisbon's condition, it's prompted the two of you to bring forward feelings that you both suppressed. I don't have a problem with that. But it is true that your new relationship with Lisbon has affected you. You can't deny that, can you?"

As much as he wanted to deny it, his relationship with Teresa had affected him. Still, Wainwright's words incensed him.

I hate getting played by Wainwright. It hurts being a mark.

"I'm sorry now that I promised Cho I wouldn't hit you again."

"Jane, I'm not your enemy. We see things differently, but we're not enemies."

"Humor me. How do we see things differently?"

Wainwright walked over to one of the cork boards. On it were pictures of all the known Red John minions. He thumped the back of his hand against the pictures.

"It's all of this, all of these people. That's where we differ."

"I don't follow."

"To make an over-simplified answer, you see Red John as a serial killer with a sideline in leading a cult. I see Red John as a cult leader with a sideline in serial killing."

Patrick said nothing for several moments; Wainwright's words hit him like a brick. His gaze flitted from Wainwright to the boards to the papers in front of him back to Wainwright.

Wainwright has done his homework. Looking at Red John from a different angle did make a difference. Is it possible I've been too close, too narrowly focused all these years to make any headway?

"I see your point."

"You're not the only one who has obsessed about Red John."

What Wainwright said prompted a question in Patrick's mind.

"You know my obsession comes from my wife and daughter's deaths, but where does yours come from? All of this goes beyond normal police work."

Wainwright didn't speak for several moments. He dropped his head to collect himself. Then he looked at Patrick again.

"Have you ever heard of the Iron Venture Alliance?"

What's his connection with that?

"Yes. It was a cult back East. Several dozen people were in it. When it fell apart, all of the members drank…" Patrick couldn't finish the sentence because of the anguish he saw form in Wainwright's eyes.

"My older sister's name was Cortney. She was the star of the family. She was my hero growing up, the person I most wanted to be like. Then she got caught up in Iron Venture. She fell under the spell of the cult leader, and she rejected all the attempts my family made to get her out. None of us ever got over our loss."

"I'm sorry, Luther."

"So you see, Patrick, I too have a personal reason for going after people like Red John." He waved his hand around the room. "You can stay in here as long as you want, look at what you want. I only ask you not to tell anyone else about the existence of this room, let alone what's in it."

"I do want to go through all of this material that you've put together. While I still disagree with your plan, you've convinced me of your analysis. You're a smart man; I underestimated you."

"I can't force you to go with Rigsby and me, but I'm asking you as one damaged person asking another. Will you go with me to check out the warehouse, to see if we can get something to break the case open?"

I've sworn vengeance against Red John. It's driven me all these years. Now when there's someone else who shares this drive I've got doubts. My relationship with Teresa has skewed my whole world. I can't think straight anymore.

Patrick looked around the room again, not wanting to make eye contact with Wainwright yet. Conflict raged inside him. At last he looked up at Wainwright.

"I'll go."

Patrick Jane knew he was a coward, and it had nothing to do with his reluctance to go on Wainwright's mission to the warehouse. He was a coward because he couldn't face Teresa. His phone call to her had been brief. The venom she hurled at him hurt deeply, but he knew where she was coming from. Memory or not, she could tell enough about him to know he had misgivings. And yet he was still going. The last sounds he heard from her were sobs. It tore him apart inside.

Rigsby handled getting an undercover vehicle for them to use. Wainwright stayed in his office checking over schematics of the warehouse one more time. Patrick busied himself in the bullpen with a piece of paper and a green marker pen. When he finished he walked over to Van Pelt.

"I have a favor to ask of you, Grace."

Patrick could tell that Van Pelt noticed how his voice cracked. She also surely saw his hand tremble before he rested it on her desk.

"Sure, Jane. What?"

"Grace, would you deliver this to Teresa for me? She went home earlier." He pulled out an origami frog with two green eyes from his side pocket.

"Why don't you give it to me yourself, Patrick?"

Patrick and Van Pelt both turned to see Teresa walk into the bullpen at a brisk pace. The make-up that mere hours ago had encircled her eyes now marked her cheeks in long streaks where tears had run down her face.

"Teresa! I thought you were at home."

Teresa crossed to where Patrick was standing and placed a finger on his mouth to silence him. With the other hand she took the paper frog from him and regarded it as a smile crept across her face. With great care she slipped it into her coat pocket. Keeping her finger pressed against his lips, she looked into his eyes.

"You let me talk. I know you didn't want to discuss it, but I know you well enough to know this is no ordinary assignment. You fear what will happen; it's a plain as day. I won't get upset with you now, it's not the time for that. But I couldn't let you go without seeing you one more time before you left. We have unfinished business, Patrick."

Before he could get any words out of his mouth, Teresa lifted her finger off Patrick's lips to replace it with her own lips. Standing on her tiptoes she curled her arms around his neck to deepen their kiss. Her tongue sought out his, and he obliged her with a passion that matched her own.

Patrick lost track of how long they stood there like that but eventually they had to break apart for air.

"Teresa…"

Before he could get anything out of his mouth beyond her name, she placed her finger again across his mouth.

"Patrick, I want you to promise me something."

For his part, Teresa had so mesmerized him that he would agree to anything at that point. After a soft kiss on the index finger blocking his lips, Patrick moved it aside so he could reply.

"Yes, Teresa."

"When you come back to Sacramento, and you will come back, I want you to come home to me as soon as possible. Do you promise?"

"I will, Teresa, I will."

"Now go on and do what you need to do. I'll be waiting for you."

Once more Teresa stood on her tiptoes to kiss Patrick, this time with the lightest of touches. After a moment she broke the kiss but he pulled her to him again for one final kiss. Then she drew back to flash those emerald eyes at him that he was powerless to defy. Indeed, he didn't want to defy the message that lurked behind them.

"Get going. I saw Rigsby and Wainwright downstairs loading up the car."

Patrick nodded and slung his bag over his shoulder.

"I'll come back to you, Teresa."

As he walked by her, Patrick felt a hand pat then squeeze his butt. Jerking his head around quickly, he found Teresa with an impish grin spread across her face and Van Pelt with her jaw dropped open at all she had just witnessed.

Patrick looked into Teresa's eyes again, then turned as he heard the elevator door open. Once on board, Patrick kept eye contact with her until it was broken by the closing of the elevator doors.

Teresa held her emotions in check as long as she could. Once the elevator doors closed, she surrendered to them. She convulsed in a spasm of moans and sobs.

She heard Van Pelt's chair scrape across the floor as she stood up to embrace her. Teresa buried her head on the taller woman's shoulder. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours.

Please come home to me, Patrick.

To be continued.

Author's notes:

Jerome Kern and Dorothy Fields wrote "Remind Me" in 1940. My favorite version is Ella Fitzgerald's on her album Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Jerome Kern Songbook.