Author's Note: Here you go, one last chapter before my vacation. I hope not to disappear entirely for a week, since I'm sure I can find wifi somewhere in London. And I'm sure to have some inspiration, since there's nothing like a transatlantic red-eye in coach to get me in touch with my inner psychopath. Thanks so much to all of you who took the time to review the last chapter—without your inspiration, I think my muse would have curled up and died from exhaustion by now!
Chapter 50
Jane woke feeling wrung out, flashes of his nightmares vivid in his mind. But his head felt clearer, so perhaps the sleep he'd managed was worth the nightmares.
Going out to the living room, he was surprised to find Grace there, frowning intently at her laptop. She glanced up at him and said, "Morning. I made myself some herbal tea. I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not. Make yourself at home. Where's Cho?" Apparently he'd slept through the changing of the guard.
"He and Wayne went to work. I'm taking a sick day."
She did look a little pale, he thought. "Morning sickness?"
"All night sickness," she sighed. "I didn't think Wayne would be so freaked out, since he's been through this before."
He smiled briefly at her. "Every pregnancy is different, they say. I take it you've not eaten."
She shook her head. "It's all I can do to keep water down. This isn't going to last long, is it?"
There was a plaintive note in her voice that made him want to reassure her. "I'm sure you'll be right as rain in no time. And you'll feel better once we've gotten something in your stomach. I'm going to make you some ginger tea, and then we'll see about some toast."
She sighed, obviously not attracted to the idea. "Okay. Hey, what's different about mental hospitals?"
"You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave?" he suggested flippantly, heading for the kitchen.
"I've been looking at the power bills for Visualize facilities, but nothing's jumping out. I thought a mental hospital would use more power per square foot than a regular hospital, what with the security measures. But apparently not, or at least not much," she explained. "And I already thought of looking into firms that supply security systems. But that doesn't narrow things down much. Visualize is pretty security conscious overall."
Jane put the kettle on and went back to the living room. "The drugs they keep in stock would be different. And they probably have a higher staff-to-patient ratio."
Grace frowned in thought. "I'm not sure where to look to find that out."
Jane hummed a little in agreement. "Maybe I should just go straight to the top."
"Stiles?"
"I'll give him a call. But first, let's get you fit for work, since I assume you will insist on accompanying me."
Grace gave him a too-bright smile. "You got that right."
mmm
Lisbon woke up stiff and cranky, but then, after spending most of the night in the bathtub, she hadn't really expected anything better. Rubbing at her neck, she opened the bathroom door, then gasped in surprise when she saw she had a visitor.
"Good morning," Kirkland smiled. "I thought you might like some company for breakfast." He gestured to the small table that had been set up, which held a mouthwatering selection of fruit and pastries.
He was wrong in more ways than she could count, but she decided to play along and see what he wanted. "Looks good," she muttered, running a hand through her messy hair. "Coffee?"
He held out a mug. "Decaf, I'm afraid."
She couldn't help the sigh that escaped her, but she tried to smile as she took the mug. "Thanks. So, it's your turn to tell me how great it is to let Red John tell me what to do?"
He chuckled. "Red John doesn't control my every thought and action, and he doesn't want that from you, either. You can have a normal life, Teresa. You will simply be asked to perform certain tasks from time to time."
"My normal life includes my husband," she reminded him.
Kirkland pulled out a chair for her and pushed it forward as she sat. "You can have him too, as long as he accepts the same terms. In fact, he threw the cat among the pigeons yesterday by offering to do just that."
She felt her stomach sink. She had always thought it was bad when Jane got into trouble on her watch, but it was so much worse when she had almost no news of his actions. "What did he do?"
"Held a press conference to surrender to Red John. Said he'd do anything to get you back. I guess you could call it romantic, if you like that sort of thing." He bit into a muffin.
Lisbon picked a blueberry out of her muffin and cautiously put it in her mouth. When her stomach didn't rebel, she took a bite of the muffin itself. She hoped Jane was working a plan and not really giving up in despair. "Can I see it?"
He pulled out his smartphone and played the video for her. She was mesmerized by the sight of Jane's worn, weary face, hoping it was at least partly an act. But her fists clenched when Bertram practically shoved Jane out of the view of the camera. She could hardly bear the thought that Jane was surrounded by enemies and didn't know it.
"So," Kirkland said when the video finished. "Genuine, or a con?"
Lisbon's fingers itched to grab the phone, but Kirkland swiftly put it in his inside jacket pocket. She pondered her answer. It was always chancy trying to judge Jane's sincerity, but she had no reason to tell Kirkland the truth anyway. With a sigh, she said, "If you're asking me if I think Jane would turn his back on everything else to be with me, then yes. He did it once before, when Red John made him choose."
Kirkland considered. "It's true he doesn't seem to be making much headway finding you on his own. I expected him to jump at the chance to interrogate some members, but he didn't."
His phone began to ring, and he pulled it out to glance at it, then smiled. "The man does have impeccable timing." He showed her the screen, where she read the caller's name: Patrick Jane.
Lisbon didn't think. She just lunged across the table, grabbing for the phone. As she landed half on the table and half on Kirkland, she heard dishes hit the floor, more joining them as they struggled. She let out a shout of frustration as she heard him hit the button to decline the call, but she didn't stop trying for the phone. If she could just get a call out to 911—
Kirkland dragged her off the table, and she fell to the floor, landing painfully on her hip. Crap, the baby! she thought frantically.
He took advantage of her moment of distraction to pin her beneath him, his face flushed with anger. "That was very unwise, Teresa," he panted.
"Get the hell off me," she spat, frustrated and furious. "You better hope you haven't hurt my baby!"
"If I have, I'll just give you another one," he retorted. He shifted position, and she realized in horror that he was actually aroused.
She tried to draw in a breath, but his weight made it difficult. "That's not Red John's plan," she managed to say.
"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," he replied, but he got to his feet, taking a step back from her.
Lisbon scrambled into a standing position, edging toward the bookcase until she was in reach of the vase. She was panting for breath, her mind racing. "It was you. You broke into the apartment that night."
He straightened his tie, visibly struggling to calm himself. "Red John sent me to deliver his message. He wanted to frighten you into getting pregnant. And he knew I'd enjoy some time with you. You're a very desirable woman, Teresa."
Through her nausea and revulsion, Lisbon realized they shouldn't have assumed the intruder was Red John himself. It wouldn't be the first time he sent a proxy into a risky situation. But that meant Jane and the others were relying on clues that would only mislead them. "So you're what, his favorite pervert?"
"A valued associate." He'd regained his composure now, and his calm smile creeped her out. "We've known each other a very long time. I do things for him, and he grants me the occasional indulgence."
"You stay the hell away from me," she warned when it looked like he might step toward her. Then an idea occurred to her. "You raped and murdered Miranda Roman." That explained why the MO was radically different From Red John's. The discrepancy had always bothered her.
"That was one of the more enjoyable things he's asked me to do."
Oh, how she wished she had her gun. Or any weapon. But her struggle with Kirkland had revealed he wasn't carrying one. No doubt there were rules about bringing a weapon into the facility, just like all the dishes had to be unbreakable plastic. "Stay away from me," she repeated. "I never want to see you again."
"You should be nicer to me, Teresa. I'm on my way to see your husband, after all. And though he's not really my type, I would still enjoy hurting him."
Her breath caught in her throat. Kirkland gave her his disturbing smile again, then left.
Lisbon stared at the remains of breakfast. Well, someone would come clean it up, and she could go down to the cafeteria and have a hot meal. But first, she would leave Red John a note.
John,
Tell Kirkland to stay the hell out of my room. I don't like midnight visits or wrestling matches over breakfast. They're not good for me or the baby.
As she started to calm down, she realized she'd never responded to his last letter. She had some things to say about his plans for her child, too.
I am glad to hear you don't plan to kill us. Though I would argue that forcing my child to follow in your footsteps constitutes harm. I want my baby to grow into his or her own potential and follow their own path.
Aren't there any potential leaders among your followers? Why take such a chance on my child? Or why not at least wait until after he's born and you're sure he's healthy? I'm still in my first trimester, when there's the greatest risk of miscarriage, and given my age there are other risks. What happens to me if your plans fall apart because of an accident of biology? Will you hand me over to Kirkland to be raped and killed?
Lastly, I saw the press conference. Don't buy Jane's act. He'll say anything to get me back, but we both know he's nobody's follower. He wouldn't last a week.
Lisbon
She folded the paper and set it beside the vase, feeling better. Let Red John wonder what she was up to with that last paragraph. Did he expect her to ask him to let Jane join her? If he did, he was the one who didn't understand love. She would do whatever she could to protect Jane and the baby, no matter what.
And now, she would go to the clinic and tell them Kirkland had assaulted her and ask them to check that the baby was okay. With luck, that would ensure Red John kept him away from her.
mmm
Jane handed Grace a sandwich bag full of crackers as they prepared to leave the apartment. "Just in case," he said. "We should get you some ginger pills while we're out. And Tums for when you can't manage to swallow a capsule."
"Thanks," she said. She sounded truly grateful, and he couldn't help reflecting that in this situation, Lisbon would have acted put upon or made a snarky remark about it all being his fault. "Sorry you couldn't see Bret Stiles today."
Jane shrugged. "We'll go see what Kirkland has for us instead. It's not as if Stiles is actually going to tell us where Lisbon is, but his answers may still prove useful. I can't ask him about mental health facilities without him suspecting that Lisbon tipped me off and moving her. So I need some time to plan anyway."
"While you're planning, please remember there are three of us on the job today," she said as he opened the door for her.
"Grace, you wound me. As if I would forget." He pretended not to notice her rolling her eyes, seeing no need to start an argument before she got behind the wheel, since his car was still at the office.
Kirkland seemed in a very good mood for someone with recalcitrant suspects, Jane thought. He didn't protest as Jane made a huge production of insisting his interrogation not be recorded or listened to and made Grace sit on guard in the observation room with a strict promise not to turn the sound on. He knew Kirkland would find some way around his precautions, though, so while he had the suspects in their trances, he was careful to confine himself to Lorelei's escape. He only allowed himself to show them Lisbon's picture on his phone and ask if they had ever seen her. Neither had.
Kirkland seemed pleased with the results, though Lisbon would have dismissed them as irrelevant since they weren't admissible in court. But maybe Homeland Security didn't care about such things. "Thank you, Mr. Jane," he said, shaking his hand. "I appreciate the help. Let me know if I can ever return the favor."
"Oh, I will," Jane assured him as they walked down the hall. Even with visitor badges, he and Grace weren't allowed to go anywhere in the DHS offices without an escort, so Kirkland was seeing them out.
They were in the lobby when a coworker hailed Kirkland, and he turned to respond. Jane's sharp eye landed on something, and he froze for a moment, then quickly brushed the back of Kirkland's collar. Pasting on a smile as the man turned, startled, Jane said, "Sorry. Dandruff. Appearances matter, you know."
Kirkland's smile still had that smug edge to it that was fast becoming less of a mystery to Jane. "Yes, they certainly do. Have a good day, Mr. Jane, Agent Van Pelt."
As they walked out of the building, Grace said quietly, "What was that about?"
"When we're away from here," he said abruptly, shoving his clenched fists into his pockets. "And sweep for bugs."
Grace's eyes widened, and she walked a little faster. When they'd reached the apartment and gone through their usual security procedures, Jane reached into his pocket and pulled out the long, dark hair he'd plucked from Kirkland's suit jacket.
Grace peered at it as Jane carefully untangled it, measuring its length. "Lisbon," she whispered.
Jane swallowed hard, but his voice was still hoarse. "We have to find out for sure, without anyone knowing. If it's hers, we have to find out where he was this morning."
"Right." Grace took a deep breath and laid a hand on her stomach as if fighting nausea.
Jane hardly noticed. His entire being was focused on that one strand of hair that looked exactly like his wife's. Was it? And if it was, what the hell had Kirkland been doing to get her hair on him?
If Kirkland wasn't Red John, he might have two men to kill.
mmm
Lisbon left the clinic with a reassurance that everything seemed fine, instructions to rest, and an appointment to see Dr. Mitchell the next day. Much as she loathed the woman, she figured any doctor Red John allowed her to see would be the same. And she did want to know that the baby was okay and what signs she should look for if it wasn't. It was amazing how attached she had become in just two days.
She grabbed a quick breakfast, relieved that the baby seemed okay with scrambled eggs and toast. But then, this was Jane's child, so eggs would probably become a staple of her diet. She'd be lucky if she didn't end up craving them at every meal. She wondered if she'd end up drinking decaffeinated tea all the time as well.
If she was going to rest, she needed something to occupy her mind. She went to the library, which fortunately was empty this time of day, and browsed the shelves. Most of the titles were self-help or Visualize dogma, but there were a smattering of biographies and even some classics. When her eye fell on A Tale of Two Cities, she remembered that was the book she'd last seen Jane reading, either purloined or borrowed from Cho, who'd read it first.
She took it off the shelf, deciding she might as well read something that would remind her of home, even though she thought she remembered not liking it very much when she'd had to read it in school.
Then she decided if she was going to pretend to come around to Red John's worldview, she should read up on Visualize philosophy. She added a couple of Stiles' books to her armful, resigning herself to hours of annoyance in the name of research. But at least it would give her something to do while she avoided people.
She was beginning to wonder what was up with the parade of minions, anyway. Some kind of peer pressure? Was it meant to show her that if she gave in, she'd be among people she knew? Maybe Red John honestly thought that supplying her with a peer group, a new yoga instructor friend, the prospect of a promotion, and the promise that she could keep her child was enough to make her complacent, if not enthusiastic, about his plans for her. He'd even thrown in a promise that she could have Jane if he agreed to the same terms.
Or maybe he was just trying to make all this seem as normal as possible. She remembered Jane remarking once that it was amazing what twisted situations the mind could adapt to and come to see as normal and, in some cases, even desirable. Was Red John trying to induce Stockholm Syndrome?
Dammit, he'd already succeeded in getting her to view him as an ally of sorts. Her first action after Kirkland's departure had been to write to him and try to get him to intervene. Asking a favor from him was bound to end badly for her, sooner or later. She had to remember that she couldn't trust anyone here. None of them were her allies.
She wouldn't be bought, and she wouldn't be led astray by any of the mind games he was trying to play with her. She'd learned a lot about those in her years with Jane, after all. No matter what happened, no matter who tried to convince her differently, she was Teresa Lisbon, badass cop, devout Catholic, faithful wife, and expectant mother. And someday soon, she hoped, the woman who helped bring down Red John and every last one of his goddamned followers.
mmm
Cho and Rigsby met Jane and Grace for lunch at the apartment. Jane felt almost frenzied at the thought that he might finally have a way to get to Lisbon, so he fixed more food than even Rigsby could eat. They debated ways to test the hair without anyone realizing what they were doing, always coming back to the same unhappy conclusion: they were going to have to trust someone with at least a partial truth.
"We don't bring Lisbon's name into it," Cho said. "We just grab a sample from her hairbrush and ask the lab to tell us whether both samples are from the same person."
"If it's from us," Rigsby said, "people will know it's about Lisbon."
Jane stared disconsolately at his plate. Even fresh fruit didn't taste right. "And if they think we're onto something, they'll move her."
Grace nodded. "But even if the hair matches, how do we find out where he was? His phone is secure. I can't hack into its records and get to its GPS remotely."
"Maybe his car's GPS?" Cho suggested. "If we can find out what he was driving."
"If it's a fleet vehicle, we're screwed," Rigsby said. "How are we supposed to investigate a Homeland Security agent without getting caught?"
Cho frowned. Then he looked at Jane. "We need help. Stan Moore?"
Jane sighed. "I suppose he's the least of the available evils. If we could get him to run the hair for us, it might slip by unnoticed."
"But can we trust the results?" Grace wondered.
Rigsby leaned back in his chair. "We're going to have that problem no matter what lab we use."
"But if the sample isn't connected to us, our odds are better," Cho agreed. He looked at Jane. "You think it's hers. Why?"
"Kirkland was smug. He was way too happy for no reason." Jane clenched his fists under the table. "It had to be because he knew something I didn't."
Cho nodded, then looked at Grace. "Did you notice it too?"
"Well, he always gives me the creeps, so it's hard to tell. But yeah, he was in a good mood. Maybe it was because Jane got confessions, even though they'll never hold up in court."
Rigsby said, "Or maybe he just got some last night."
The growl that erupted from Jane's throat was purely involuntary. Rigsby must have realized what he'd accidentally implied, because he added, "I didn't mean, uh—"
"Stop talking," Grace hissed at him, so he did.
Cho said, "My point was, if you're sure, why risk testing the hair? It's not like it'll be critical evidence. If he leads us to her, that's enough evidence."
Jane looked around the table. He was suddenly humbled by their trust in him. "I'm sure."
"Okay then." Cho nodded. "Let's stop wasting time on testing and start figuring out how to track Kirkland."
Everyone was silent for a moment. Grace said, "Same problem. Anybody watching will assume anything we do is connected to Lisbon."
Jane added, "And if Red John thinks we're onto Kirkland, he'll kill him."
"If he's not Red John himself," Rigsby said.
"Could we use Moore, but not tell him the truth?" Grace wondered.
Jane said, "He was the one who asked us for help investigating Kirkland. But maybe..." He broke off, remembering Susan Darcy's ploy to investigate him. "If we ask for Kirkland's help investigating someone, we could keep an eye on him."
"Investigating Moore?" Cho suggested. "While Moore investigates him?"
Jane gave a weary grin. "Cho, I'm glad you're on our side. Perfect. Why don't you give Stan a call and invite him to join us?"
mmm
"Stan," Jane greeted his guest as he opened the door an hour later. "Welcome. I hope you're hungry."
Moore smiled, unable to conceal his surprise at Jane's seemingly cheerful mood. "Then you're in luck. So this is your place. Nice."
"Thank you," Jane replied. It was messier than he liked, since he was basically hosting an ongoing slumber party, but it was the home he'd built with Lisbon and he was ridiculously attached to it.
"Moore," Cho greeted him from his seat in the living room. He was dealing with a pile of paperwork, since Lisbon wasn't available to do it.
"Cho," Moore nodded in reply. "So. I assume you didn't invite me here to drink a few beers and watch the game."
Cho put down his paperwork and nodded to the chair beside him. "Have a seat."
Moore did so, looking around at them. "You have a lead?"
"We think so," Jane said, keeping his tone casual. "But we need your help."
Rigsby and Grace came in from where they'd been working in the dining room and sat on the couch. Jane decided to remain standing, hoping to dissipate some of his nervous energy.
Cho said, "We think Kirkland knows where Lisbon is. We need to make him tell us."
Well, so much for subtlety, Jane thought. But he was encouraged to see that Moore's startled look seemed free of guilt. "Or at least find out where he's been recently," Jane added.
"That won't be easy," Moore mused. "I have to assume we won't be able to get into his phone records or investigate him openly."
"Right," Grace said. "But I've been thinking. If I could get his phone, maybe I could get into the GPS."
Moore said, "The instant he noticed it was missing, he'd brick it."
Cho nodded. "So we have to make sure he can't do that."
Rigsby looked alarmed. "Whoa. Are we talking about kidnapping a Homeland Security agent? Because I don't want to go to prison. I have kids to think about."
A flicker of anticipation made Jane smile, just for an instant. "Nobody's talking about prison, Rigsby. If he doesn't know who kidnapped him, he can't prosecute us."
"I want Grace out of this," Rigsby said firmly.
"No way! This is for the boss," Grace retorted.
"I'm not having my kid born in prison!"
Cho said, "Van Pelt doesn't get involved in the kidnapping. We just bring her a phone. Actually, you can do that. Jane and I will handle the dirty work."
"What do you want from me?" Moore asked, wisely ignoring the revelation of Grace's pregnancy.
Jane said, "Just lead him into the trap. We're going to tell him we suspect you of being involved with Red John and ask him to keep an eye on you. So if you call and tell him you have a lead, it'll be easy to talk him into going with you."
Moore looked dubious. "Our cooperation on this investigation hasn't exactly been warm and fuzzy so far. What if he tells me to handle it myself?"
"He won't," Jane said patiently, "because he's one of Red John's followers, and he'll want to get rid of any evidence you find. Or, if he can't do that, get rid of you."
"Hang on a minute," Rigsby said. "If we're going to do this, I at least want to be sure. Let's test the, uh, evidence."
Cho and Jane looked at each other, then at their teammates. After a moment, Cho leaned forward and addressed Moore. "If we give you two samples to test to see if they're from the same person, can you do that without anybody suspecting they came from us, or are related to Red John at all?"
"I think so. I have a buddy down at Quantico who owes me a favor. What kind of samples?"
Jane drew out the hair he'd taken from Kirkland, now safely in a plastic sandwich bag. Then he took out the other bag, which contained hair he'd taken from Lisbon's brush earlier. He found himself oddly reluctant to part with them. "Put a rush on it, will you?"
Moore peered at the hair, obviously guessing whom it belonged to, and said, "You bet. It's going to take until tomorrow at least, though. So what kind of lead do I have on Red John?"
"I don't care. Something from the Lorelei Martins investigation, maybe. That would certainly pique his interest," Jane suggested.
"Okay." He swallowed, looking a little nervous. "When and where?"
"We'll call you when we get it set up," Cho said.
"It'll be in the afternoon," Jane said. "I have a meeting in the morning."
"Right." Moore stood up, his mind obviously already working out how to handle their requests.
Jane said, "Come into the kitchen, Stan. I wasn't kidding when I said there was plenty of food. It's always better to plot dubiously legal activities in the name of justice on a full stomach."
He gestured for Moore to precede him, then paused a moment to hand the cellphone he'd just lifted out of Moore's pocket to Grace before following him.
Twenty minutes later, Moore left the apartment with a full stomach and a cellphone that had successfully been cloned to one hidden in Grace's jacket.
"Can we trust him?" Rigsby wondered.
"We don't have to," Grace smiled, waving the clone phone. Then she sobered. "I wish we could do it tonight. I hate waiting."
Jane agreed wholeheartedly. But they'd known for years that Red John had allies in law enforcement, and their investigations into Visualize had proven the same of them. They had to move carefully rather than quickly. He knew Lisbon would agree, but that didn't make the waiting chafe any less.
He just hoped she was still all right, despite his nightmarish conjectures about how her hair had gotten onto Kirkland's jacket. But, he tried to console himself, if Kirkland had attacked Lisbon, he'd surely be sporting at least a black eye. Maybe he'd just sat down in a chair she'd recently used.
Or maybe he'd carried her lifeless body out to an unmarked grave.
"Come on," Cho urged him. Jane jumped a little, not having noticed him approach. "We have to find a good place to hold a prisoner. And buy some masks."
Author's Note: It's always bugged me that Lisbon and Jane so easily accepted that it was Red John who killed Miranda Roman without any discussion of the glaring difference in method. So this is how I worked it all out in my universe. Kirkland's awkward manner made him seem like a good candidate for that particular type of murder somehow. But I'm sure it will work out very differently in the show!