Author's Note: Thanks to all the awesome reviewers, and thanks especially to those of you who've told me how much you look forward to updates of this story. I promise I'm not trying to torture you with slow updates! I actually held this chapter a few days until I was sure I was going to get through the next one in a reasonable time frame. So thanks for sticking with me!
Chapter 38
Jane woke with an unaccustomed haze smothering his thoughts, but his physical senses seemed to be working just fine as he slowly worked his way back to consciousness. "Mm," he hummed, "have I mentioned lately how much I love your sneaky little fingers?"
The chuckle in his ear was wrong, he thought, but he couldn't identify why. "Teresa?" he murmured, trying to force his eyes open.
"Guess again," Lorelei purred.
He tried to jerk away from her, but his body only managed a violent twitch instead of actual movement. "What?" was all he managed to say as he got his eyes open and saw Lorelei's face unexpectedly close to his.
"Good morning, lover," she smiled. "From the feel of things, this could be a very good morning for both of us."
"I'm married," he replied, forcing his brain to focus on controlling his body's reaction to her touch. Whatever drug she'd obviously given him made it difficult.
"So? I had you first." But she withdrew her hand, propping herself up on one elbow and giving him a good look at her breasts.
He averted his gaze. "And she gets me last. I'm not interested, Lorelei." Realizing how harsh that sounded, considering he was supposed to be winning her over, he added, "I'm not free to be interested now."
"Well," she said, "if that's the way you want it. We can talk again when you're not married anymore."
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"I'm not stupid, Patrick. I know your Agent Lisbon hates me. So how is she going to feel when she realizes you've run off with me?"
Worried. Jealous. Mad as hell, Jane thought. It was a potent mix, and he hoped the rest of the team had the good sense to keep their heads down and, above all, not leave her alone for one second. "Not happy," he replied. "One or both of us might end up with a bullet as a souvenir."
Lorelei smirked. "I'm not planning to give her the chance. Anyway, you're the cheating scumbag, not me."
"I'm no such thing," he protested.
"Not yet, maybe. But from what I saw of her, I bet she's not the type to forgive and forget. Her narrow definition of love won't allow her to accept our relationship."
Not the type to forgive? You haven't been paying attention, Jane thought. How many times had Lisbon forgiven him for lying to her and tricking her? Even he had lost count. If he couldn't avoid sex with Lorelei, that would be a pretty bitter pill for her to swallow, but she would try. That didn't absolve him of the need to do his best to avoid that, though.
But it was not in his interest to point out flaws in Lorelei's plan. He simply hoped that Red John was making the same mistake, though he doubted it. Which was an interesting indicator that Red John hadn't told his disciple the truth about his plans, whatever it was.
He scrubbed his face with his left hand, then noticed an alarming absence. "Where's my ring?"
"Don't you remember?" Lorelei asked with patently false concern. "Oh well. I guess you were pretty out of it last night. Don't worry. It's somewhere safe."
"Where?" he demanded, though he had a sinking feeling he knew. If this had all been orchestrated to present Lisbon with a cheating husband, he was more than ninety percent sure it would end up back in her hands as evidence.
Lorelei didn't answer, throwing the sheet back and climbing out of bed, swaying her hips as she walked and obviously expecting him to admire her naked backside. He had no trouble resisting the urge, thinking instead about how worried Lisbon must be. He could only hope she remembered what he had told her: Red John wanted her to think he was the better man. As long as she kept that in mind, she would know this was all a trick. It wouldn't lessen her concern, but it would spare her any anguish about the status of their relationship.
"Eggs?" Lorelei called from the kitchen.
"Sounds good," he called back, easing himself out of bed. He was glad to find he was steady on his feet and still wearing his boxers. Looking around, he located the rest of his clothes thrown haphazardly on a nearby chair and quickly dressed before going into the kitchen. "Where are we?" he asked, concealing how disturbed he was to have to ask.
"A friend's place," Lorelei replied. "That's all I can tell you."
"So. When do we go see Red John?" He sat down at the table, grateful she had put on a tank top and shorts to cook.
"When he wants us to. Don't worry. I'm sure it won't be long. He's delighted you've accepted his invitation." She smiled at him over her shoulder. "Meanwhile, I'm sure we can find stuff to do, just you and me. We had fun in Vegas, didn't we?"
"We had the quintessential Vegas encounter, in which we both lied to each other throughout," Jane said. "But at least you didn't drug me then. Could we skip that for the rest of the trip? I mean, I'm impressed you managed it while I was on my guard, but the after effects are highly unpleasant."
"I couldn't have you sneaking off to call your wife while I was asleep."
"You could just handcuff me to something." When her eyes lit up, he realized he'd made a mistake, so he hurried to add, "Anyway, you're giving me what I want. Why would I do anything to interfere with that?"
"You're a tricky one," Lorelei remarked as she set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him. "I was told not to take chances." She settled in the chair next to him, resting her chin on her fist. "You're really whipped, you know. You kept apologizing to her, mumbling and muttering until I wanted to shove a pillow over your head."
"Sorry. Maybe you should find another drug that doesn't make me talk in my sleep. I don't normally, you know."
"I'll look into it," Lorelei said.
Jane put a forkful of eggs in his mouth, trying not to remember the last time she'd cooked for him. Obviously she was trying to evoke that memory, but it wasn't one he wanted to relive. It had been wretched enough when his guilt was about his dead wife, who couldn't be hurt, but it was absolutely excruciating knowing that Lisbon would find out about this one way or another.
Don't get pulled into her game, she'd told him last time he'd tried to play Lorelei, expressing her concern despite his attempt to deflect her with mockery. And she hadn't believed him when he'd told her he had no feelings for Lorelei. But surely by now Lisbon was confident in his love.
Unless, of course, one of Red John's friends was whispering poisonous little doubts into her ear. Which he had no doubt was happening. It might even be the man himself, taking the opportunity to get close to Lisbon at a vulnerable moment. The thought made his blood run cold. He needed to get Red John's focus on himself and off Lisbon. Now.
Pushing the plate away, he said, "My stomach's a little queasy. It must be whatever you gave me. I hope we won't have to wait long if you're planning to keep drugging me."
"Oh, don't be such a baby," Lorelei said. She took the plate and ate a bite of the eggs, which answered his question about whether she'd laced them with anything. "The first thing you have to learn is that you don't control everything. Or even anything. He decides when to see you. Accept that."
"I do," Jane replied, but he was confident that Red John would send for him tomorrow, because that was the anniversary. He was almost certainly planning to either convert or kill him to mark the occasion. But Jane was determined to complete his decade-long mission instead. It would be a much more fitting way to spend the day than his past observances.
Lisbon wouldn't agree, though. He felt guilty about that, because she certainly deserved better than what she was likely to get. Although he intended to do his very best to get back to her, he'd been taken by surprise, and he was going to have to improvise against Red John and his well-laid plans. His odds of both killing Red John and surviving were low. He needed to take advantage of all his opportunities, no matter how long the odds.
"So," Jane remarked, "now that you're free, do you plan to avenge your sister's murder?"
Lorelei put down her fork and looked at him. "Once I find out who killed her, yes."
"You know who killed her. She left that message for you: Roy. You know any other men named Roy?"
"No. But how do I know that photo Agent Moore showed me was real?" She shrugged. "He's like you. He'd do anything to get to Red John. It's a trick."
"I assure you it's not. The FBI is tediously unimaginative when it comes to that sort of thing." Jane decided he was hungry after all and reclaimed the plate of eggs. "Isn't that how he does it? Kills someone close to you and swoops in while you're swimming in a sea of grief and despair?"
"Losing my sister brought me into my full reality. I faced my greatest fear," she said. "He helped me see that. But he didn't kill her. You'll never make me believe he did."
Jane shrugged, scooping up a forkful of eggs. "I could get you the original police file."
"You mean you could ask your wife to get it," she retorted. "And I don't trust her either. Give it up, Patrick." She went back to the stove and began making more eggs. "You want some toast?"
"Got any marmalade?"
She looked in the cupboards, which Jane noted were well stocked. "No. There's butter though."
"No thanks. I'd love some more tea, though." He drained the cup in front of him. It tasted dreadful, but he needed the help clearing his head. "So what's the plan, Lorelei? Just sit here and stare at each other all day?"
She shot him a sly smile over her shoulder. "I was hoping for something a little more interesting. But if you're not up for that, we could always hit the beach."
"The beach sounds lovely," Jane said. Anything was better than being cooped up alone together.
"We'll have to make some changes. Why don't you go pick out your new hair color? There's some in the bathroom."
Jane wrinkled his nose at the thought of dyeing his hair, but he finished his eggs and went down the hall. The bathroom was a good idea, he reflected, taking care of business and splashing water on his face before examining the boxes on the shelf over the toilet.
"The honey blonde is mine," Lorelei called.
"Is this necessary?" Jane let his voice go plaintive, picking up a box and squinting at the directions. "Can't I just wear a hat?"
"No," she said, coming down the hall. "Every cop in California will be looking for you. I think you'd make a good redhead. It'll bring out your eyes. And there's a change of clothes in the cupboard." She folded her arms and leaned against the door jamb, smirking. "I can't wait to see your cute ass in tight jeans."
Jane reached for the door and closed it firmly as she stepped back, laughing at him. He grimaced, but resigned himself to a dye job. The least he could do, he thought, was pick out a color Lisbon wouldn't hate. Not red, he decided, glancing at the faded jeans and white T-shirt in the cupboard. Chestnut brown, maybe.
He looked at himself in the mirror with a sigh, running a hand through his blond curls in farewell.
"Need some help in there?" Lorelei asked.
Jane looked at the box again and weighed his options. "Actually, yes," he admitted. "Let me get changed and you can get started."
mmm
Lisbon had managed to get a little sleep, and she made an effort to cook breakfast for Van Pelt out of gratitude for her support. They were still the first ones in the office, and there was no word from Jane. Even though she'd told herself not to hope, she was still disappointed to find no message, no matter how odd or oblique.
Fortunately there was plenty of paperwork to be done, and she threw herself into it with fierce concentration, only looking up to acknowledge Rigsby and Cho when they came in. It was nearly lunchtime when a knock on her door startled her. "Sir," she said in surprise as Bertram entered.
"Lisbon. Any word from Jane?" He looked concerned, but he made no move to sit.
"Not yet," she said. "But I'm sure we'll hear something soon."
"I hope so." He frowned. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine." She said it firmly, making sure to hold eye contact. If he sent her home, she'd go stir crazy. She had to convince him she was fit to work. After all, she was.
"Good, good." Bertram looked away for a moment, then said, "Homeland Security is leading the search for Lorelei Martins. They've notified me that they consider Jane her accomplice, not her captive."
"That's ridiculous," Lisbon protested. "Jane had nothing to do with her escape. He was right here when it happened."
"That doesn't prove he didn't orchestrate it," Bertram pointed out.
"Sir, you can't honestly think—"
He held up a hand. "What I think," he said, "is that having an employee under my direct supervision being accused of helping a serial killer's known associate escape is very, very bad for the CBI. That's what I think."
"We'll prove Jane is innocent," she said.
"No, you won't. You are not in a position to prove anything," he snapped. "What I need you to do, Agent Lisbon, is cooperate fully with Homeland and the FBI in their investigation, and stay out of their way otherwise. You and your team will refrain from investigating anything to do with Red John, including Lorelei Martins and Jane's role, if any, in her escape. Remember the deal you and Jane made? I'm holding you to it."
"Yes, sir," Lisbon said, trying to hold on to her temper.
"And if you hear from him, you will notify me as his supervisor and Agents Kirkland and Moore immediately. Failure to do so will have swift and severe consequences."
"I understand."
"I hope you do, Agent." Bertram turned to go, then paused. "I hope you're right about Jane. Because if you're not, we have a very big problem."
"Jane had nothing to do with breaking Lorelei Martins out of prison," Lisbon said. She was grateful not to have to lie about this, but she knew Bertram didn't believe her anyway.
"You'd say that regardless, wouldn't you?" Bertram said, shaking his head. "You've covered for him over and over again. And now you're married, so no one is going to take your word for his innocence. You're in this up to your neck, Lisbon, and make no mistake: if Jane goes down, I'm not the one who's going down with him."
Lisbon kept her mouth firmly shut. Anything she said would just make this worse, she knew.
Bertram heaved a sigh, then said in a more friendly tone, "On a personal level, I hope you get him back. Just...try not to destroy the CBI's reputation doing it."
"I'll do my best," she promised.
Less than a minute after Bertram was gone, Cho came in. "What was that?"
"We're not to work anything even remotely connected to Red John, including looking for Jane," she said. "He's holding me to the deal Jane and I made when we gave the case up. If he catches me working on anything to do with it, I'm out of the CBI."
Cho folded his arms. "Then we won't get caught."
She started to tell him to leave things alone and preserve his own career, but one look at his expression told her it would be useless. "Thank you," she said softly.
"We'll get him back, Boss," he said. "We know he didn't break out Lorelei Martins. He didn't have the time. He was always with you or one of us. There won't be any evidence against him."
"Except manufactured evidence."
"Jane's taught us a thing or two about that," Cho pointed out, sounding almost amused.
Lisbon looked down at her desk, smiling wistfully. "Yeah. I guess he has. Thanks, Cho."
mmm
Jane convinced Lorelei to stay on the beach to watch the sunset. He was in no hurry to get back to the house, and he thought he'd have a better chance to remain un-drugged if they ate at a restaurant. He also had some idea he might lift a cellphone on his way to a restroom and get a message to Lisbon.
Lorelei shot down his idea, though, saying there was plenty of food at the house, so Jane had to content himself with doing the cooking. He wouldn't have the opportunity to lift Lorelei's cell, he guessed, and that would give Lisbon far too much information anyway. He only wanted to reassure her; he didn't want to be rescued before he achieved his objective.
He found that he wanted very much to leave her some sort of good-bye, though. He wondered what his odds were of concealing a note if Red John managed to kill him. It felt wrong to leave her with no word, especially given their last conversation. He didn't want her to torture herself for the rest of her life, wondering if she could have prevented this. And he wanted to remind her to be on her guard, because he wasn't the only one Red John was playing games with now.
Jane refused Lorelei's offer to make him a cup of tea after dinner, but he did it with a smile. "Do you have any books lying around? Or Sudoku puzzles? I'd like to unwind a bit. It will help me sleep."
"So domestic," she grinned. "Is that what you and Agent Lisbon do when you go to bed? Read?"
There was absolutely no way he was going to discuss his personal life with Lorelei. "I could sleep in a separate room tonight so I don't disturb you."
"Please, Patrick. Let's not play dumb with each other. You and I both know why he sent me to you again. You don't get to see him until you've broken your wedding vows." She shook her head at him. "What does it matter anyway? You married her because you had no choice. It's not like it was real."
He frowned, wondering how to best lull her suspicions.
"Oh." Lorelei smiled. "So I was right. You were a little bit in love with her."
He gave the same part laugh, part harrumph he'd given when she'd said that to him in the interrogation room. "You were wrong. I was hopelessly in love with her."
"Was?" she purred.
"Was."
"And now?"
He gave her a half-grin. "Now it's no longer hopeless."
"Because she loves you back? Oh, Patrick. It's all an illusion. A gift he gave you." Lorelei shook her head. "He made her believe she loved you. Just like he'll make her believe she loves him, when he decides to."
Jane had a sudden, searing flash of memory: Lisbon gasping "I love you" into his ear as he moved inside her, pushing them both over the edge into ecstasy. But that wasn't what he held onto as proof. It was the look in her eyes when she said her wedding vows—the same look she'd given him in intense moments for years. No, her love was not of Red John's creation, because it long predated the ideas he'd planted in her head.
But he needed to pretend that Lorelei was planting doubts. "Please. He can't possibly be good enough to create love out of thin air. She was infatuated with me for years. She doesn't even know him."
Lorelei chuckled. "Oh, yes she does."
That got his attention. "She does?"
"For years," Lorelei gloated.
"Do I know him?" Jane asked, his mind spinning. He knew everyone Lisbon had known for years, didn't he? Unless it was someone from her past. But no, Red John was in California, not Chicago.
"No more questions," she said, seeming amused. "And since you've been so careful not to let me slip you anything, I have to send you to sleep the hard way. Sit still and it will hurt less."
"Wait—" he protested as she jabbed the needle into his shoulder.
"You need your rest," she cooed in his ear. "Tomorrow is a very big day."
mmm
Lisbon barely slept, looking at the clock as it counted away the night and announced the beginning of the anniversary day. She wondered what Jane was doing and prayed he was all right. Even though he'd refused to accept her comfort on this day every year before, she had always hoped it helped to know it was there for him if he wanted it. And whatever he was doing today, whatever happened, she hoped he found comfort in knowing that she loved him and wanted him back.
It had been Rigsby's turn to sleep on her couch, after assuring her that Ben was with Sarah. Poor guy, he couldn't even stretch out on it. She tried to make it up to him by feeding him until he was full, which used up the last of the eggs and all the ingredients for waffle batter. Lisbon made a mental note to stop by the store. Jane would be very unhappy to come home to an eggless refrigerator, she knew.
They were running late when they got to the office, and Lisbon was surprised to find a small padded envelope on her desk. "Where'd this come from?"
Cho had followed her into her office to touch base. "Messenger. About half an hour ago."
She frowned and tore it open, jumping a little at a metallic sound. Cho leaned forward and smacked his hand down on the desk just in time to keep the object from rolling off the edge. Then he held it up with a quiet, "Huh."
Lisbon's heart froze as she recognized Jane's wedding ring, the one she had put on his finger. Cho held it out to her, and she took it with a shaking hand.
"We should dust that envelope," he said after a moment, reaching in his pocket for a glove. As he picked up the envelope, he remarked, "There's something else in here."
Lisbon swallowed hard as he held out a folded piece of paper. She carefully slid the ring into her jacket pocket and took the extra glove Cho offered her. Then she unfolded the note, automatically noting that the handwriting looked like Jane's.
Dear Teresa,
I can't do this anymore. I thought I could, and I wanted to, but even I can only act for so long. I am so sorry to hurt you, but in time I think you will see this is for the best. You did give me many moments of happiness, and I'm grateful for that. I hope you won't waste your energy hating me, or hoping that I will change my mind. And I hope that you will find true happiness with someone who deserves you.
Good-bye.
Patrick
Lisbon handed the note to Cho and dropped into her chair, staring at her desk.
"Don't take it at face value," Cho said after quickly reading it.
She took a deep breath. "You need to call Bertram, Moore, and Kirkland."
"Okay. You should go home," he replied.
Oh God, she wanted to. She did not want to face investigators who would pity her as an abandoned wife. But she needed to make sure someone defended Jane. "No. I just...need a minute."
"You got it." Cho snapped the blinds closed on his way out.
She appreciated the gesture, but it wasn't like she was going to have a good cry. She was at work. And no note or ring was going to make her believe that Jane had left her because he didn't want to be married anymore after a mere three months. The note might sound like him, but she knew that if he ever ended their marriage, he would either be far more apologetic, or he'd be downright cruel, hoping to make her angry instead of sad. Either someone else had written this, or he'd hoped she'd find it unconvincing.
The last line made her think it was the former. Wasn't Red John out to seduce her? And to do that, he had to first break up her marriage. He'd been watching her, after all, so he must know she wouldn't just cheat. No, Jane hadn't left her, but he was playing right into Red John's plan by pursuing his vengeance instead of sensibly escaping, she suspected. The idea of coming face to face with his enemy on this day of all days must have been irresistible, and though Jane would never admit it, he lost all trace of sense when he got emotional. That was part of why this time of year was often painful for them both. She'd so hoped this year would break the pattern.
Lisbon set the letter on her desk, resigned to having it read and analyzed. Then she drew the ring out of her pocket and looked at it, promising herself she would keep it until she could put it back where it belonged. She held it in her clasped hands as she prayed, Please, God, keep him safe. Bring him home.
It had taken six long months for her prayers to be answered last time. She expected a more immediate response this time, but she was far from confident the answer would be the one she wanted.
mmm
Whatever drug Lorelei had given him this time produced strange, vivid dreams that stayed with him as he woke. Oddly enough, he didn't dream about Red John or his family—just weirdly mundane activities from his everyday life, slightly skewed. He went grocery shopping with Rigsby and argued the merits of Tolstoy versus Dostoevsky with Cho, then helped Grace hunt down a missing hamster in a murder victim's home. And at last he found himself in Lisbon's office, listening to a lecture about causing her extra paperwork.
"Do you know how many forms I'm going to have to fill out to annul this marriage?" she demanded. "You didn't think about that, did you? You never think, Jane!"
"You don't have to do that," he said, a little alarmed. "I'll fix it."
"And how are you going to do that?" she scoffed. "You're a dead man, you idiot. You ruined everything. Now all I can do is get rid of the evidence."
"That doesn't even make sense," he said, perplexed.
She put down her pen and looked at him sadly. "All you had to do was love me best," she sighed. "But you couldn't. I don't know if you ever even loved me at all."
"Of course I did. I do. I love you, I told you that."
"But you chose him." She got up from her chair, and he saw that she was wearing a black dress. "I have to go bury you now. Don't haunt me again. We're done."
"Wait. Teresa, wait!"
He woke up just in time to avoid falling out of bed, reaching desperately for his dream version of the one person he wanted most to see. When his vision cleared, he saw Lorelei instead, watching from the doorway.
"Good, you're finally awake. It's your turn to cook," she said, folding her arms.
"When do we leave?" he croaked out.
"When you've fulfilled the conditions. I told you yesterday."
This was a day of grief, guilt, and self-loathing, but he felt that adding another sin to his lengthy list was no fitting way to observe the occasion. Surely Red John didn't honestly expect him to wreck his marriage on the mere chance of meeting him?
But maybe he did. Jane's history made it plausible, he had to admit. It hadn't even been a year ago that he'd slept with Lorelei, kissed her in an interrogation room, and offered to help her escape. He'd certainly not let concerns about Lisbon's feelings get in his way then, except for telling her not to listen, and Red John probably didn't know about that.
From the outside, maybe their marriage looked sudden and impermanent. He was selfish and obsessive, after all. There was probably no way to tell how committed he was, how he desperately wanted to be the man she deserved—or at least one who wasn't a disaster for her.
Lorelei had disaster written all over her.
She's playing you, Lisbon's voice insisted in his head.
If the terms of the game didn't suit him, he had to either change them or walk away. "So how does it work, then? We have sex and then you give him a call? Or are you planning to record it, so I can't lie to Lisbon about it?"
She smirked. "Good idea. But I don't think she'll need proof. Do you? She won't know for sure if you're lying or not. The doubt will drive her crazy. Face it, Patrick: you've already lost her, just by coming with me."
"Why insist we have sex, then? I don't flatter myself I'm irresistible."
"I just got out of prison," she shrugged. "Even a half-hearted fuck would be welcome at this point."
"So that was your condition, not his."
"Let's just say I would have gotten extra credit for it."
He stared at her, trying to work out the truth. "Take me to him. Today."
"Or else what?" She clearly thought he was bluffing.
"Or else I'm going home." He was serious, whether she believed him or not. She had lied to him and drugged him, making it highly unlikely he would arrive at any meeting with Red John in any shape to achieve his goal. The sensible thing to do was to cut his losses and put an end to both his ordeal and Lisbon's. The Lisbon voice in his head—like a tart, sarcastic Jiminy Cricket—was clear on that point. Get out of there, you idiot, was the nicest thing it had to say today.
"Nice try," Lorelei said. "You don't know where we are. You have no money and no ID, and there's no one nearby to ask for help. How are you planning to get home? And do you seriously think she'll take you back even if you do?"
He refrained from telling her that all he needed to do was get arrested—which in his experience was laughably easy—and that Lisbon would most certainly take him back. Instead, he frowned. "Why won't you just take me to him? Are you enjoying being my jailer?"
"Not really. And I've told you: we can't go until he sends for us. Now, are you going to fix breakfast or not?"
Jane got out of bed and considered his options. Then he smiled. "What do you like in your omelet?"
mmm
Author's Note: Please don't pelt me with rotten fruit or jagged rocks (or jagged rocks embedded in rotten fruit, for those of you who feel inventive). I don't like Lorelei any better than you do, and I'm not going to drag it out any more than necessary, I promise! :)