Why? Why? Why? I wondered as I jumped in my car and turned on the ignition. Why did he have to come into my life again? I was better off without him. We all were.
My mind was in a mad panic as I drove like a maniac to the CBI. It was halfway across town, so I had time to think. But, of course, Patrick Jane doesn't let you have time to think. My cell phone rang and, knowing it was Jane, I answered it.
"Hello? Jane?" I spoke into the phone.
"Oh, Teresa. What's happened? What's the rush? Slow down, you're gonna kill somebody!"
Confused, I looked in my mirror and there was Jane's Citroën DS21 right behind me.
"Jane, I –" My voice cut out. "Jane, I've just been told that Hightower has reason to believe that my father, who I hate with a passion and who I haven't spoken to for ten years, is a suspect for the Red John killings." I saw Jane's jaw tighten at the mention of Red John and then my words finally registered. His mouth fell open, wordless.
"Teresa, I don't know what to say," he said softly. "I'm so sorry."
"What? You shouldn't be sorry! There's good reason to believe that MY FATHER has murdered your wife, child and countless other people, and YOU'RE sorry?" I was amazed. He was apologising for nothing. "Listen, I've gotta go." I turned off my phone and sped off to the CBI, with Jane following close behind.
My mind was a blur as I strode into the bull pen. Cho and Rigsby were perched on Van Pelt's desk, gazing at whatever was on the screen. They jumped when they saw Jane and I come over.
"I'm sorry, I know I wasn't meant to be at work, but I thought I'd just go over the latest crime scene and we got half of a fingerprint," Van Pelt told us, not looking up from the screen. "The closest match to anyone we got from them was you, Lisbon. In fact, when I told Hightower she said that we shouldn't rule YOU out as a suspect for the killings."