Author's Note: I can't tell you how much I enjoy reading all your theories about what's going on in this story. Some of you are much cleverer than I am! And some of you are going to feel very smug after this chapter. ;) Enjoy!

Chapter 47

Lisbon woke at her normal time, bitterly disappointed to find she hadn't dreamed her captivity. She tried the door, but it remained stubbornly locked from the outside. Then she went into the bathroom, deciding she would have to shower eventually. That door locked from the inside at least, though it was flimsy enough she had no doubt Red John's minions could break it down anytime they wanted to.

Still, the letter seemed to imply she was being treated as a guest for the time being, so she decided to take the risk. And she felt much better after she was clean and dressed again.

Only one thing had changed since the last time she'd gone over the room, so she concentrated on the vase. Tapping a fingernail against it, she was pleased to note it wasn't plastic. It might even be crystal, she thought. She'd be able to knock someone out with it, especially with water to add weight. But first she had to figure out how to get out of the facility.

And today she was going to behave so she could send a message to Jane.

When the server arrived with her breakfast tray, she was sitting demurely on the bed. She waited until he was gone, then ate the fruit and oatmeal and drank the glass of milk, looking over the schedule someone had written on a card. She was going to skip the doctor's appointment, but she thought she might look in on the yoga class, especially since it was outside. The Personal Guidance session after lunch sounded suspiciously like therapy, so she would skip that too. Surely Red John knew how she felt about therapists, so hopefully he wouldn't count this as misbehaving. She would visit the library and see what she could find to read, but not while the Group Guidance session was going on.

And she could always kill time trying to nap. The book said pregnancy would make her tired, since her body was working hard growing a baby. She might even catch up on the past year's worth of lost sleep, except she didn't intend to be here that long. And she needed time to think of how to give Jane a clue without tipping anyone else off.

Exercise would help her think. She put on some appropriate clothing and went in search of the yoga class on the terrace.

The instructor had already begun, but she paused to let Lisbon grab a mat and get situated. "Welcome, Teresa. I'm glad you've joined us," she smiled.

"Thanks," Lisbon said, managing a brief smile in return. She needed to try to get on friendly terms with her fellow inmates and the staff if possible.

The class was over too soon, leaving her at a loss. The instructor came over as the others wandered back inside. "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself. I'm Allie."

"Nice to meet you. Great class," Lisbon replied.

"Thanks. We do it every morning. And I teach a smaller class that meets at sunset. You're welcome to join that one too."

"Thanks, I might do that." Lisbon thought she might sleep better if she wore herself out.

"Got anywhere you need to be? I like to swing by the cafeteria and grab some juice after a class," Allie remarked. "Want to join me?"

"Sure." Lisbon followed her new acquaintance back to the cafeteria. They grabbed a couple of glasses of juice and sat down. "So how did you end up teaching yoga in a place like this?"

"I've always wanted to help people. And everyone here is searching for something. Some of them will find that yoga helps them focus on their journey." Allie took a sip of juice and smiled. "I know it's not much, but it's what I'm meant to be doing right now." Then she laughed. "But of course what you really want to know is, what's a nice girl like me doing in a cult like this?"

Lisbon shrugged. "Well, now that you mention it..."

"I was born into it. I went through a rebellious phase and left for a while, but the more I saw of the world, the sadder it made me. So many people leading pointless lives, with no goal, no purpose. So I came back." She took another sip. "And now I have a purpose. Do you, Teresa?"

"Yes. I'm a cop. I get justice for people who've been wronged," she said.

"That was what you did. Here, no one is being wronged, so we have no need for law enforcement."

"I'm being wronged," Lisbon pointed out. "I was kidnapped and am being held here against my will."

"I know," Allie said.

Lisbon was surprised. "You're not going to tell me how one day I'll be grateful?"

"What's the point? You wouldn't believe me. It is true, though." Allie grinned at her, then finished her juice. "You're lucky, though I know you won't believe that either. Not many men would be as patient as Red John, letting you get your cravings out of your system so you'd be ready to appreciate him when it was time for you to join him."

Lisbon looked down at her rings. Craving was an odd word to describe her relationship with Jane, though she supposed it wasn't entirely inaccurate. "Now you're going to tell me I don't understand the true nature of love."

"You don't," Allie responded. "You probably think love is about attraction and affection. But really love is intense and dangerous. It demands sacrifice. It's about learning to give up pieces of ourselves so we can receive pieces of others. Most people only want to receive, not give. But the giving is what is truly fulfilling."

Lisbon pondered that. She felt that she'd done her share of giving with Jane, though he had certainly shown his nurturing side since they'd become a couple. "That's true," she said. "It's part of what I love about my job, giving to others. How long have you known I was coming?"

"We were told yesterday morning, after you got here. All I knew at first was that you were a special guest, but Ray thought you'd want to take my class, so he told me a little about you. He thought you might need a friend after he left."

Lisbon in no way considered Haffner a friend any longer, but it was pointless to say so. "And have you met Red John?"

"Yes, of course. I don't know him very well, but he's definitely a powerful personality. Magnetic. He has a way of making you feel like the most important person in the world while he's talking to you." Allie smiled. "Ray says your ex-husband is much the same way."

"I'm still married," Lisbon said sharply.

"Sorry." Allie looked apologetic, but Lisbon thought it hadn't been a slip of the tongue. As far as Red John and his friends were concerned, her marriage, like the rest of her life as she knew it, was already over. Their aim was to convince her of that.

"I love my husband," she persisted. "And I don't even know Red John, so I don't understand how I'm supposed to just suddenly abandon Patrick and fall in love with a stranger."

"You'll understand when you meet him." Allie got to her feet. "Thanks for the chat, Teresa. I'll see you around, I hope. Time for my vent vid!"

Lisbon watched her go, a little disappointed that she hadn't gotten more information. But she should try to gain allies if possible, try to spot someone who might help her. If there were potential backsliders here, one of them might want out as well.

Hm. Maybe she would go to Group Guidance after all.

mmm

Bertram was out of town all day, attending a charity fundraiser in L.A. that evening, so Jane turned their attention to other suspects. Digging around confidential records was left to Grace and her counterfeit user ID, while Rigsby made phone calls pretending to be conducting routine background checks. Meanwhile Cho did his best to find out if Visualize was being investigated by any other state agencies, since Moore had told them the FBI suspected the cult of tax evasion but hadn't been able to find an informant or insert a mole.

Jane went over Moore's suspect list, checking it against his own and evaluating the profiler's notes. Red John was likely a white male age 40 to 60 with a traumatic event in his childhood, probably related to his mother or maybe a sister, intelligent but insecure, responding violently to any disparagement of his intelligence or ability. Jane rolled his eyes; anyone could figure that out just from his own history with the killer.

This and other factors led Moore to hypothesize that Red John worked in a position of power to which he'd risen at an unusually young age, or else lived on money he'd either inherited or made young. The profiler was in the process of eliminating suspects with jobs where they were closely supervised or regularly had to perform menial tasks. Jane agreed with the latter, but he thought the former criterion was shaky. Red John might take pleasure in manipulating a boss who thought he was in control, much as Jane had expected to with Lisbon when they'd first met. Her genuine compassion, intelligence, and toughness had eventually led him to regard her as an ally, not a mark, but then he wasn't a sociopath. And Red John's boss, if he had one, probably wasn't nearly as admirable as Lisbon.

As the sun set, Jane shut himself into Lisbon's office, needing to regroup. He was exhausted and frustrated, and he needed to make his brain rest for a few minutes. He could drink his tea in peace on the couch, and Lisbon's scent lingered in the air, which comforted him.

Two days. She'd been gone not quite 48 hours, and he already felt like he couldn't bear another day. But he couldn't give up, not when she was counting on him. He had to keep going as long as there was even the slightest chance he could get her back.

"Jane!" Grace cried from the bullpen. The urgency in her voice had him on his feet before his brain caught up, and he barely remembered to set his teacup down on the table before flinging the door open and rushing to Grace's desk.

"What have you got?" he demanded breathlessly.

"Someone just uploaded a video to the secure server and sent me a notification. It's Lisbon!"

Jane refrained from pushing her out of the way, but just barely, fists clenching. "Is she okay?"

Cho and Rigsby were hovering behind Grace's chair, and Cho said, "We just watched a second, then waited for you."

Grace restarted the video. Lisbon was wearing a tank top, her hair in a ponytail. She looked like she'd been exercising, Jane thought. The sudden, dizzying rush of relief that she was unhurt nearly knocked him off his feet.

"Jane, I'm okay. They haven't hurt me, and they're treating me okay. The baby's fine too," she began quickly, as if not sure how much time she had. "I don't know where I am, but there's a doctor here and healthy food and even yoga classes. So I don't want you to worry, okay? Please take care of yourself and don't give Cho any trouble. Cho, if you're watching, keep an eye on him. And Rigsby and Van Pelt. Take care of each other, and don't forget that you're a family." She paused to take a breath, her expression changing from commanding to wistful. "Patrick, I miss you, and I love you. Whatever happens, please don't forget that." She wiped one eye. "I'll never regret marrying you, and I hope you will never regret marrying me. But this isn't goodbye, I hope. Be well, Patrick."

Jane let out a long, shaky breath and closed his eyes as the screen went blank.

Cho instructed, "Van Pelt, make some copies on flash drives."

"Yeah, okay," Grace said, her voice a little choked up. She wiped at her eyes and went to work.

Jane wanted to get up and go back to Lisbon's office, but he couldn't make himself walk away from his last sight of her. He felt like crying himself. He had coped so far by reminding himself that Lisbon was a highly trained, kickass agent. He made himself focus on the idea that woman being held was the one he'd seen take down ruthless criminals without a trace of fear, not the loving wife whose smile he cherished and whose soft caresses could make any horror fade from his mind. Who whimpered in her sleep when she had nightmares of her own but quieted instantly when he kissed her forehead and whispered "I'm here." Who would lie limp and sated in his arms after driving him out of his mind, her fingers stroking random patterns on his chest and making him grateful to be alive.

But although she'd started out in professional mode, she'd definitely been speaking to him as his wife at the end. And that tore at his heart. He hoped she was really as calm as she sounded. He needed to watch the video again, analyze her body language more closely when he wasn't overwhelmed with emotion. "Play it again," he said hoarsely.

Cho said, "Let's go to your place first. We'll put it on that big ass tv and look for details."

"Then let's go," Jane insisted.

Cho drove, so Jane used the time to replay Lisbon's words in his head. She would be trying to convey whatever she knew, though it seemed she didn't have a location. And she would have had to be subtle, knowing that if Red John suspected she was trying to tip him off he would either edit the video or not send it at all.

Her parting words bothered him. That wasn't a phrase she used. It was, in fact, Sophie Miller's usual farewell. Was that a message? Had he ever told her how Sophie said goodbye? He didn't talk much about his breakdown, and when they'd encountered Sophie he was only just beginning to confide in Lisbon.

Wait. Hadn't he talked about his breakdown during those dark days when he'd been selling the house? He remembered Lisbon's arms around his neck and her voice in his ear, uncertain and sad, whispering, "Tell me how to help you. Tell me what to say." And in the darkness, he'd tried to tell her that there was no helping him, that there never had been. Then she had brought up Sophie, hesitantly suggesting that they try to find her.

Even in his depressive state, Jane had known better than to mix his new relationship with Lisbon with Sophie and her unrequited feelings for him. "We said our goodbyes," he'd told her. "She told me to be well. I'd rather not let her know I'm not." Then he'd added, "That was what she said to me when I was released, too. 'Be well, Patrick.' Like she wasn't sure I would be. I guess she was right."

Lisbon had nuzzled her nose against his cheek. "It's not a weakness," she'd murmured. "Most people don't have someone deliberately trying to drive them crazy like you do. Most people couldn't deal with it as well as you do. I think you've done well, Patrick. And I think you will be well, because you won't let the bastard win."

Right, he thought. We won't let the bastard win. So what was the meaning behind Lisbon's allusion to Sophie? When they'd exonerated her for murder but revealed her scientific fraud, she'd been doing psychological research. But he bet Lisbon primarily thought of her in connection with him. His admission that he'd been committed had made an indelible impression, he knew.

If she was trying to give clues to her whereabouts, then alluding to Sophie was meant to lead him to a location. The university where Sophie had worked? That seemed possible, but unlikely. Still, it fit the other clues: a doctor, healthy food, yoga classes.

He became aware that Rigsby and Van Pelt were whispering in the back seat. He was annoyed until he realized they were exchanging theories about the video, too. "Speak up, Grace," he prompted.

She cleared her throat. "I was saying, at least he doesn't have her locked up in a cellar. But it's weird. It sounds like she's with other people, doesn't it? If it's just a yoga instructor giving her private sessions, why would she call it a class?"

Rigsby added, "And this doctor must be a friend of Red John's too. How many friends does he have? It sounds like a whole community."

"Visualize," Cho said. "That's why she told me to keep an eye on Jane. She knows she didn't have to tell me that. And that stuff about remembering we're a family, like we might forget."

Jane felt his heart speed up. "You might be right. She wiped one eye, but I don't think it was a tear. Hurry up, Cho. I need to watch that video again!"

mmm

Lisbon felt both hopeful and depressed when she went to her room after making the video. She took comfort in the knowledge that it would relieve Jane of his worst fears, but she knew she wouldn't get the same reassurance that he was okay.

There were fresh flowers in the vase, this time a showy arrangement with blue hydrangea blooms and white lilies. There was also a new note.

Dear Teresa,

I was pleased to see you making friends today. But I was disappointed that you did not keep your appointment with Dr. Mitchell. She came a long way specially to attend to you, so it was impolite of you to waste her time. I'm afraid I must insist that you see her tomorrow.

I would also like to make our communication more of a conversation. Please use the paper and pen to write to me. You may also write to Patrick, though I cannot guarantee timely delivery. I am sure you have things to say to both of us, and I think doing so will help you come to terms with the changes in your life.

I wish you a peaceful night and pleasant dreams.

John

Lisbon grimaced, looking at the stack of expensive paper beneath the note and the ballpoint pen lying beside it. It was the refillable kind rather than the disposable ones she was used to. Red John definitely liked the finer things in life, she thought. But if he was hoping to seduce her with luxuries, he was headed for disappointment.

Did she dare skip the doctor appointment again? Did she dare go? What would Jane advise her to do? She didn't want to find out what Red John would do to punish her for disobedience, since it would probably involve curtailing what little freedom she did have. But if he found out she wasn't really pregnant, he would be even angrier, and he wouldn't have to be careful how he treated her. She really might be headed for that dark basement and a knife.

She recognized that wanting to keep the situation she was in from deteriorating gave him a hold over her, and that was dangerous. But Jane had told her to do whatever she had to in order to survive. She was sure he wouldn't want her to do anything to worsen her situation or make it harder to escape.

Picking up the pen and paper, she saw that a lovely wooden lap desk was resting against the bookcase. She might as well write the letter he'd asked for. Maybe he'd be pleased enough to let skipping the doctor again pass.

John,

I don't understand what you hope to achieve by holding me here. I am not someone you can change. I know who I am, what I believe, and who I love. If you have watched me as long as I think you have, you must know that. What is your plan for me? For my child? If it is to further hurt my husband, then you cannot possibly expect me to cooperate.

You're a smart man, and the smart thing is to let me go home. We can revive the deal you made with Jane—we leave you alone, and you leave us alone. You win the game. Think about it.

Teresa Lisbon

Then she decided to write a note to Jane, more to comfort herself than out of any hope it would be delivered.

Dear Patrick,

I love you. I never said it often enough, assuming that you knew. But now I wish I had given you more times to file away in your memory palace.

I know you remember telling me to be in the moment with you, so that a part of me was always there, loving you, no matter what. And I am there, now and forever. No matter what happens. Because despite everything you did that drove me crazy, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Please remember that.

Love,

Teresa

She wiped tears out of her eyes, annoyed with herself for getting so emotional. Then she got ready for bed, resolving to think of some way to find out how the security system was controlled in her wanderings tomorrow.

mmm

Jane had watched the video over and over, the television screen showing him details not apparent on the computer monitor. She wasn't reading a TelePrompTer or under duress—there was no telltale glancing to one side as there would have been if someone was threatening her. She seemed focused on her message, which told him she definitely was trying to give him a clue without anyone else realizing it. If only he could work out what it was. If only his sluggish brain would clear.

He was aware that Grace and Rigsby were back at work in the dining room, while Cho was poring over files on the couch behind him, no doubt making sure he didn't have a psychotic break. Maybe some tea would help, but he couldn't take his eyes off the image on the screen, evidence that he hadn't lost her yet, that he could still fix this if he was fast enough, smart enough.

Walking up to the television, he laid a hand on it, stroking a finger along the curve of her cheek. She was the best thing that could have happened to him after losing his family, and he would get her back or die trying.

A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he turned to find Grace there, holding a fragrant cup of tea. "Drink this," she said gently. "And no complaining about it."

Jane rubbed a hand down his face, surprised when it came away wet. Then he took the cup and sipped it. "Thank you."

Grace smiled gently. "You're welcome." Her gaze strayed to the screen. "At least she's okay. He hasn't hurt her."

Jane shook his head. "This is more dangerous. Hurting her would stiffen her resolve. Instead he'll lull her into a routine, a kind of normal life. Human beings are incredibly adaptable, you know. One day she'll wake up and forget to wonder what's going on in the outside world. If he's smart enough to give her people to care about and protect, she'll focus on that and gradually forget she wants to escape. Or tell herself that she can't because then he'd hurt them in retaliation. One day, she'll be there because she chooses to be."

"No she won't," Grace said firmly. "Because we'll find her first. I'm not having this baby without her godmother there." She patted Jane on the arm and went back to work.

mmm

Lisbon went to morning yoga, had juice with Allie, and then planned to go back to her room to pretend to nap. But in the hall, she was intercepted by two orderlies. "Ms. Lisbon," one of them said, "we're here to escort you to your appointment."

"I don't need an escort," she replied, hoping her alarm didn't show. "But thanks anyway."

They stared back at her. "Please don't make this difficult," the other one said.

Oh, crap. There was no way she could take them both, even if they were worried about not hurting her. "Fine," she snapped. "Lead the way."

One did, but the other walked behind her. She was well and truly trapped. What was she going to do? What would Jane do? He'd bluff his way through, she realized. Could she do that? Maybe she could refuse any blood work, make up an excuse.

In no time they were in the clinic. An older woman with short blonde hair smiled as she entered. "Ah, Ms. Lisbon. I'm glad to see you. Any problems? Nausea?"

"Nothing I can't handle," Lisbon replied, noting that her escorts had retired to the hallway. "I feel fine. I saw my own doctor right before I was kidnapped, so this isn't necessary."

Dr. Mitchell's smile didn't falter. "I understand that you want your own doctor. First pregnancy, right? But don't worry. I've lost count of the healthy babies I've delivered. You can change into a gown behind that curtain."

Lisbon scowled but decided to play along for now. She undressed and put on the gown, which was softer than the ones she had to use when she saw her own doctor.

Mitchell smiled encouragingly when she emerged. "Now, hop up on the table and let's get your blood pressure."

Lisbon climbed onto the exam table reluctantly. "Do you always work here?"

"No. This is a special favor for a friend. I have a private practice in San Francisco." The doctor efficiently took her blood pressure."Hm. A little elevated, but given your aversion to this checkup, I think that's to be expected. We'll want to keep an eye on it though. You've been eating normally?"

"Yes."

"Let's weigh you for a baseline." She gestured to a digital scale, and Lisbon got on it. She weighed the same as the last time she'd weighed herself, no surprise. The doctor seemed pleased with the number. "You're starting off at a good weight. Excellent. The information I have is that you're around seven weeks?"

"Closer to six, I think," Lisbon lied. The more time she could buy herself, the better.

"I'd like to get some blood and urine for analysis, just to be on the safe side."

"No," Lisbon said. "Look, no offense, but you're not my doctor. I'm being held here against my will, so I have absolutely no reason to trust you. I'm not letting you stick a needle in me."

Mitchell sighed. "I understand, but frankly, Teresa, you have no choice. Red John gave me specific instructions about what tests he wants run. He wants to be absolutely sure the baby is healthy. If necessary, I will restrain you."

"Fine," she gritted out. Tests would take time, right? A day at least? She would just have to come up with an escape plan faster than she thought.

She endured the blood draw, then obediently peed in a cup in the small clinic bathroom. "Can I go now?" she asked when she emerged.

"Not quite yet, I'm afraid," Mitchell said, looking sympathetic. It made Lisbon want to punch her.

"What else is there?" she demanded.

"He wants an ultrasound."

Lisbon frowned. "It's too early for that. Isn't it?"

"At six weeks, a transvaginal ultrasound should show us the gestational sac." She gestured to a nearby wand.

"No," Lisbon said. "No way. You are not sticking that thing in me." God, the gig would be up right here and now.

"I'm afraid neither of us has any choice."

"This is unethical and illegal," Lisbon said as the orderlies came back in. "I refuse this treatment. If you proceed, I'll have you prosecuted. You'll lose your license!"

"I have no choice," Mitchell repeated.

Lisbon struggled, but even with her training she couldn't escape the orderlies' hold. And to her horror, the table featured five-point restraints meant for use with mentally ill or strung out patients. Furious and frightened, she did her best to resist the probe, even though it made the discomfort worse. At least Mitchell didn't patronize her by telling her to relax.

"Ah," the doctor said after a moment. "There we are. Small, but all looks well."

Lisbon froze, staring at the screen. She couldn't make out what the doctor was referring to. Could she be making a mistake? Or pretending to find a baby for her own reasons?

"Right here," Mitchell said, pointing to a blob in the midst of the other blobs on the screen. "There he is. Or she. More precisely, the gestational sac containing the he or she. Based on this, though, I'd say you're closer to four and a half or five weeks."

Lisbon blinked at the screen. "You're serious?"

"Yes. Don't be embarrassed; it can be hard to pinpoint how far along you are in the early days," Mitchell said as she withdrew the probe.

Stunned, Lisbon remained on the exam table for a few seconds after the doctor released her. Then she fled back to her room, heart pounding, not caring that she was still wearing the exam gown. Oh God. I'm pregnant. I'm really pregnant. Oh my God, what am I going to do?