Author's Note: Thanks so much to all of you who sent me wishes for a fun vacation, especially those of you who warned me to pack warmly for London. I had hoped to write more while there, but I forgot how exhausting it is to be a tourist. I'm back now though, so full steam ahead! We're in the end game now.

Chapter 51

After spending the previous day holed up in her room, Lisbon was almost glad to go to her appointment at the clinic. Dr. Mitchell went out of her way to be reassuring, saying that if she hadn't noticed signs of a miscarriage by now, it was unlikely the baby had been harmed. "You can go about your normal activities. Just let us know if you notice anything unusual."

"Thanks." Lisbon turned to go, then paused. "Doctor, you're an educated woman. Can I ask what drew you to Visualize?"

Mitchell smiled gently. "My son died of cystic fibrosis when he was nine. I had to find something to believe in, since medicine had let me down. Brother Stiles' teachings helped me find my way back to a functioning life where I could help other people experience the precious gift I was given, even though it was for too short a time."

"And how did you become one of Red John's friends?"

"That is a little more complicated. The simple answer is that while Brother Stiles saw my loss as something to overcome, Red John showed me it was also a gift. I survived my worst fear. It made me more powerful, less fearful." Mitchell checked her watch. "I don't want to rush you, Teresa, but I need to get back to my practice. I had to reschedule several appointments to see you."

"I appreciate that," Lisbon said, surprised to realize she actually meant it.

"See you next week. If you have any trouble, let the clinic know. They can get in touch with me day or night."

Lisbon thought hard on the way back to her room. She could almost understand someone like Mitchell being attracted to Visualize in the midst of crippling grief, but how she had fallen in with a serial killer was much harder to explain. Lisbon had never understood how anyone, especially any woman, could find anything to admire about a man who took pleasure in killing women in a horrific way, making sure their last experiences in this life were painful and terrifying. And he'd even done it to an innocent child for no better reason than because he'd taken offense at something her father had said. What could possibly attract people to someone like that? Was it part of some twisted charisma, or were his murders something his followers overlooked because they found other things to admire him for?

If she had to meet Red John, she hoped she would at least get the consolation of figuring that out.

When she opened her door, she stared at the arrangement of sunflowers on the bookcase. It was by far the biggest one yet. She wondered if he was just trying to cheer her up or if they had some significance.

That was the kind of thing Jane would know. The pain of his absence pulsed for a moment, taking her breath away, before settling back to an ache. She closed her eyes and took a few steadying breaths, then unfolded the accompanying note.

My dear Teresa,

I was very displeased to find that my friend Bob behaved disrespectfully to you. You do not need to worry about him visiting you again. You also do not need to worry that he will come to the poker game tomorrow night. I want you to enjoy yourself.

Succession is always a complicated issue, but I will try to satisfy your curiosity. There are several among my friends who doubtless think themselves possessed of leadership qualities. They may even be right. But even the most loyal among them has the occasional difference of opinion. I do not want my followers led astray, even in trivial ways, after I am gone. That is why I want to train a child from youth, to avoid outside contamination. Rest assured that your child will become the most powerful version of himself under my guidance, fulfilling all his potential. Can you honestly say that is not what you want for him?

As to the timing, that is more of your choosing than mine. Had I waited, there was too great a chance that you and Patrick would disappear. I would have preferred to wait until you had given birth and then evaluate the child's suitability. But this way, I can at least be sure of your health and safety.

I am pleased that you have displayed an interest in Brother Stiles' teachings. If you are interested, I can arrange for him to personally tutor you.

I look forward to your next letter. In the meantime, rest assured that you are safe here.

John

Lisbon snorted a little as she put the note back down. Safe. Yeah, right.

mmm

"We're good to go," Cho announced, hanging up his phone and looking around the table as they ate breakfast. "Moore's bringing Kirkland around three. You still want to go see Stiles first?"

Jane nodded. "It would be rude to stand him up when he's gone to the trouble of rearranging his schedule to see me." Besides, he didn't want Red John to realize he had an actual lead now. "I'd rather take Grace, though."

"Why?" Rigsby asked.

"He tried to get to her once before," Jane said. "He won't be able to resist trying again. It'll distract him."

"I can do that," Grace said.

Rigsby muttered, "Just don't let him mess with your head."

"Oh please," Grace scoffed. "After all the times Jane's messed with our heads, I can spot that a mile away."

Jane wasn't sure whether that was an insult or a compliment, but he didn't really care. He just wanted to find out if Stiles knew anything about Lisbon and then go kidnap Kirkland and get her location. After he got her back, he'd worry about taking down Red John and all his followers, even if that meant completely dismantling Visualize. His main goal in this meeting was to get an idea of whether that was what they were facing—and drop a hint that was what Stiles was risking in supporting Red John. It was a long shot, but maybe he could get Stiles to turn on the killer to save his profitable cult.

Of course, for all he knew, Stiles was Red John. In which case, violence would eventually be called for, certainly.

"Okay," Cho said, "that's settled. Van Pelt, keep a close eye on him. Our whole plan goes to hell if he's in jail for assault."

"Got it," Grace said.

Jane didn't waste time protesting that he had already figured that out. He was prepared to take any risk to find Lisbon except the ones that might keep him from actually getting to her, but Cho wouldn't listen to any promises about his behavior. From the set of Grace's shoulders as they walked to his car, she wasn't in a listening mood either.

Stiles had asked to meet in a public park, which had kept Jane's mind going in circles about what that meant. Did he not want to have Jane on Visualize property in case he figured out Lisbon was there? Or was this meant to remind him of the time Stiles had given him Kristina's location? He was pretty sure this wasn't going to be that easy. If Stiles handed him a piece of paper with an address printed on it again, it would certainly be a trap this time.

Grace frowned as they pulled up to the park. Jane looked at the large, grassy space full of kids running and shrieking and knew she was thinking that gunplay was out of the question in this environment. Of course, that went for Stiles and his people too, and Jane had no intention of letting this meeting devolve into violence. His interactions with Stiles had always been civilized, at least on the surface, and Jane knew enough about the cult leader to be certain that no threat would achieve his goal.

They spotted Stiles's distinctive white hair as soon as they got out of the car. He was seated at a nearby picnic table under a shady tree, a bottle of water on the table in front of him, looking relaxed. When he caught sight of them, he gave a cheerful wave.

"Patrick! And the lovely Agent Van Pelt, always an ornament to any occasion. It's good to see you, though I do wish it were under happier circumstances, of course. How are you holding up?"

Jane had always admired Stiles' way of turning any encounter into a series of barbs wrapped up in excellent manners. He decided against playing along this time, however. "Not well. I take it you've heard of my wife's kidnapping?"

"Ah, yes." Stiles shook his head regretfully. "And I had not even had the opportunity to congratulate the pair of you on your marriage. What a lovely couple you must have made. I confess, I was hurt not to be invited to the wedding."

"It was private, for security reasons," Jane replied, though he was sure Stiles already knew that. "I was hoping you might be able to help me again."

"Yes, I'm well aware I owe you a favor. And I would be delighted to deliver Agent Lisbon back to your waiting arms, if only to ensure my invitation to the christening. But I am afraid that is beyond my ability."

Grace asked, "How did you know she was pregnant?"

"My dear girl," Stiles said, smiling warmly at her, "I have so many friends in law enforcement. And they all know of my interest in the lovely Agent Lisbon and Patrick. And, of course, you. How have you been, Grace?"

"Fine," Grace said. "But I'll be better once we get Lisbon back."

"And I wish you the best of luck. But I'm afraid I have no information to give you about her location," he replied.

"Really?" Jane asked. "Because when I thought about the resources it would take to keep a trained agent captive for any length of time, your organization came immediately to mind."

"Now, Patrick," Stiles chided. "I realize you are under a tremendous amount of stress, but I hope you are not implying that I had anything to do with Agent Lisbon's disappearance. I was, as you know, overseas at the time."

"Yes. But you have so many friends, don't you, Bret?" Jane said, not trying to smooth the edge out of his smile. "And so many of them are in law enforcement. Perhaps you've heard something we haven't."

"I can assure you that no one connected with Visualize could use our facilities for such a purpose without my knowledge," Stiles said. "But, as you say, I have many friends. And what I have been hearing from them leads me to believe there is no intent to harm Agent Lisbon or her child."

"Our child," Jane cut in, feeling this was an important point. "It's my child too." He let his emotion begin to leak into his voice as he added, "I have had one wife and child taken away from me. I am sure you can understand that I will do anything to keep it from happening again. I need to be with my family, Bret. I don't care what it costs."

Grace gave him a concerned look and reached over to pat his arm comfortingly. Jane flinched away from her, but he was grateful she was playing her role so well. She turned to Stiles and said, "We all need her back. Maybe if you could tell us the names of some of your friends who seem to know something, that would help."

Stiles gave her a reproving look. "Now, Grace, I am sure you do not believe in betraying the confidence of a friend. Neither do I."

She shot back, "I wouldn't help my friend commit a crime by keeping quiet about it. Not if I knew it was hurting so many people."

"Oh? Have you never covered for one of Patrick's misdeeds, then, or told yourself not to ask questions? That seems unlikely, from what I've heard," Stiles said. He reached for his water bottle. "Do forgive me. I find long flights so dehydrating. I'm still trying to bring myself back into optimum balance after all the disruption." He took a few swallows, then said, "I really wish I could help you. But if there's nothing further, I must be going. I assure you that I will contact you if I come into any information about Agent Lisbon's whereabouts."

Jane knew it was time to play his final card. As Stiles got to his feet, Jane jumped up and grabbed his sleeve. "Bret, I need your help. I'm serious. I'll do anything. I'll join Visualize, I'll do whatever you tell me, I'll be Red John's new best friend. Just let me be with my wife. I can't go on without her. I can't."

"Jane." Grace was instantly at his side, taking hold of his arm as if to stop him.

Jane shook her off, changing tactics. "If I find out you're involved, you can kiss your snug little cult goodbye, Bret. Think about that. Think about where you want me—on the inside, happy and cooperative, or on the outside thinking up ways to make your life a living hell."

Stiles gave him a pitying smile. "I sympathize with you, Patrick. I truly do. And I hope you find Agent Lisbon soon. But if you don't, our doors are always open to you. We help the lost and broken all the time. I am sure we could help you as well." He drew his arm out of Jane's grip and added gently, "Farewell, Patrick. I'll be in touch if I hear anything useful."

They watched him walk toward a dark town car parked near the corner. When he was out of earshot, Grace said, "I think he knows something."

"I know he does," Jane said. "That means we're taking him down."

"Damn right," Grace agreed.

mmm

When they got back to the office, Cho met them in the bullpen with an abrupt, "We're a confirmed go."

Jane interpreted this as Cho-speak for "Moore called, and the hair samples matched, so we're definitely kidnapping a Homeland Security agent this afternoon." He nodded. "Looking forward to it."

Cho conveyed his low opinion of Jane's sanity with a look, then went back to what he was doing. Rigsby eyed Grace closely, presumably looking for signs of brainwashing, then asked, "How did it go?"

"We had a lovely chat," Jane said, adopting a breezy tone as he settled himself on his couch.

Grace said, "He totally knows something. But all he would say is that he heard there's no intent to harm Lisbon or the baby."

Rigsby snorted. "Guess that depends on what you mean by 'harm.' You sure we shouldn't try to follow him or something?"

"No grounds," Cho said, "and no chance we could pull it off without him finding out about it."

"Yeah," Grace said, "he made a point of reminding us how many friends he has in law enforcement."

Jane said. "If you want to run some searches on his travel history or anything like that, go ahead. It won't hurt to let them think we're distracted. But we need to focus on the plan."

"Right," Rigsby said. He seemed to have overcome his doubts now that they had solid evidence. He might be too rule-bound at times for Jane's liking, but there was no question that he was loyal to Lisbon.

They all were, which was why they were prepared to help him commit felonies to find her. But he needed to remember that Lisbon would kick his ass if he got them hurt or arrested. There was no room for error in what they were about to undertake. His plan had to work perfectly, for all their sakes—but most importantly, Lisbon's.

The first part of the plan was up to Moore, so it was the part Jane was most worried about. He could depend on the team to follow his instructions to the letter, but Moore was a wild card. He was young and bright and earnest, but cleverness didn't necessarily translate into the ability to deceive. Lisbon was proof enough of that, Jane thought, remembering with a pang all the times he had wondered in exasperation how such a smart and capable woman could become so awkward merely by speaking words that didn't fit her narrow definition of truth.

The memories were at once comforting and painful, but they kept him from getting restless as he and Cho waited in the abandoned warehouse Grace had found for them. Jane felt twitchy in his unaccustomed black clothing, complete with gloves and ski mask. Cho had insisted there be no visible means of identification when they confronted Kirkland. Though Jane was convinced that Cho would have no trouble becoming the kingmaker in whatever prison they ended up in, he could sympathize with the desire to avoid prison in the first place.

Moore was a few minutes late, just enough to make Cho shift his weight unhappily and Jane begin to wonder what in the world to do for Plan B. But at last they heard voices from their hiding place behind a stack of decaying pallets.

Kirkland sounded impatient and annoyed. Jane looked forward to making him even more so as the Homeland Security agent said, "You think this place is connected to Lorelei Martins' murder? The venue doesn't exactly scream Red John."

Moore replied, "I know, but we never found the murder scene, and we know she was killed somewhere before being placed at the church."

"Which is nowhere near here," Kirkland pointed out. "You're sure this tip wasn't a crank call? I don't have time to waste chasing down every—agh!"

He dropped like a stone as Cho tasered him. Well, a writhing stone, Jane amended, stepping in with the rag soaked in chloroform.

When Kirkland was safely unconscious, Jane looked at Moore, who was visibly nervous. "Now what?" Moore asked.

"Stick around. I may need you to pretend to be tortured," Jane replied, which dented the FBI agent's composure somewhat.

Cho grunted as he tried to lift Kirkland. "And I need help moving him."

Moore hurried to help as Jane took the infinitely more practical step of bringing the chair closer. Together they got Kirkland into the chair and tied him up securely. Then Moore went into the small office space at one end of the warehouse, careful to stay out of view of the window. Cho picked up a lead pipe he'd acquired somewhere and stood nearby, looking appropriately menacing, as Jane found Kirkland's phone and took it outside to where Rigsby was waiting to drive it to Grace, who was safely in the apartment. Then Jane went back inside and regarded Kirkland thoughtfully, going over his plan of attack in his head.

Kirkland came to slowly, but after one tug at the handcuffs around his wrists he was fully alert, looking around. When he saw two men in black ski masks in front of him, he started to laugh.

Jane had to admit to being taken aback at this reaction. "What's so funny?" he growled in the harsh, deep voice he was affecting for this con.

"Look, I didn't hurt her, all right? Whatever the little bitch said. But if this is my punishment for stepping over the line, then fine. Let's get it over with." His chin jerked up in a tic that belied his calm demeanor.

Jane thought rapidly. Did he really just confess to working for Red John? "We were told you might have forgotten who's calling the shots."

"No, I haven't," he said. "I just...lost control for a moment. She literally threw herself at me. What was I supposed to do? She was going for my phone, and she fell in the struggle. It wasn't on purpose, and she got right up, so I know she wasn't hurt."

"We're not interested in your excuses," Jane said, although he desperately was. If Kirkland had struggled with Lisbon, that explained how he'd gotten her hair on him. He'd probably ended up with several but brushed off all except the one he couldn't see. "That wasn't what you were sent there to do, was it?"

Kirkland started to reply, then paused. "Do you want me to recite my instructions?"

"It's not what we want that's important. You know that." Jane had to keep his focus on Red John and Kirkland's fear of what the killer might do if he decided he was a liability.

"Fine. I was just supposed to go chat with her over breakfast, try to make things seem normal. And that's what I did. She was all freaked out from something—she slept in the bathtub, apparently. But it was all going pretty well until her jackass husband called. She saw the name on the phone and came across the table at me, trying to take it. We ended up on the floor." He gave a sickening smile. "She sure felt good squirming around under me. But I let her go. So you can tell him that I didn't hurt her."

Jane's mind reeled as he processed this information. Dammit, he had called Kirkland yesterday morning, which confirmed this was Lisbon Kirkland was casually talking about knocking to the floor and enjoying her struggling. His fists clenched involuntarily.

He forced himself to calm down. Kirkland was obviously suspicious and trying to figure out if they were really sent by Red John. Behind him, he heard Cho shift his weight, making his leather jacket creak a bit. No doubt he longed to introduce Kirkland's smarmy expression to his lead pipe, but he would keep his eye on the prize. Jane had to do the same, no matter the provocation.

"What did she do?" Kirkland asked, a definite sneer in his voice. "Run crying to the doctor about her baby?"

Jane focused on being very, very glad that Lisbon wasn't really pregnant. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand listening to the man talk about knocking his pregnant wife to the floor. It was all he could do to remind himself how tough Lisbon was, how she regularly tackled men bigger than Kirkland and bounced back.

Her emotional state after nearly a week of captivity was another matter. "You were sent to make things better. Instead you made them worse."

"Yeah, and I'll apologize for that. But only to him. Not to you." Kirkland's smug air was back. He was going to see through this charade very soon; Jane doubted Red John punished his straying minions with a stern talking-to. And he had promised Cho they'd assault Kirkland only as a last resort.

"He's not interested in your apologies," Jane snarled. And neither am I, you miserable excuse for a human being. "But we recorded all this, so he can decide what happens next. You be a good boy and wait, and we'll let you know what happens next."

"This isn't how it works, you know," Kirkland smiled. "Who is it behind the mask? Jane? This sounds like one of your schemes. Do you know what the penalty is for kidnapping a federal agent? Two, if Moore wasn't in on it. You're never going to see your pretty little wife again, either way. But maybe you'll read about your kid in the newspapers when you're old and frail. Unless I decide not to bow to the new heir and take matters into my own hands, of course."

Jane had a sudden inspiration and yanked his mask off before Cho could do more than take a step toward him, arm outstretched. The agent kept his head and didn't speak, though.

"Do you think I care about prison?" Jane demanded. "I knew I was going to end up there or dead a long time ago. Either way, it doesn't really matter. What I do care about is Lisbon. You tell me where she is, or you become one more pathetic disciple who took his own life because he displeased Red John. I've seen enough of it to make it very convincing."

"Oh, I believe you're capable of cold-blooded murder. You proved that with Timothy Carter," Kirkland said. "But what about your friend there? Cho, I'm guessing? And what about Moore? You really think they're going to help you murder me?"

"Probably not," Jane said, though he wasn't a hundred percent sure about Cho. "But I don't need their help.'' He swiftly calculated how much time had passed. They had figured to need at least two hours to get the GPS coordinates from the phone and get it back here so that when Kirkland woke up in an alley, he'd never realize it had been missing.

"I'll tell you what. You untie me and slink back to CBI, and I'll write this off as the act of a desperate man. No charges." Kirkland turned his gaze to Cho. "For any of you."

Cho made no reply, apparently still hoping to salvage some of the original plan.

"I am a desperate man," Jane agreed. "Even more now that I've heard you confess to knocking my wife around. I think that's worth a lead pipe in the nuts, myself. But maybe I should go for something more lasting. Like breaking all the fingers on your gun hand, one at a time. You're not much use to Red John on disability, are you?"

"And I'm dead if I breathe a word about where she is," Kirkland pointed out. "So, stalemate."

"You're dead anyway," Jane said. "Once he knows I questioned you, he'll want to know what you told me. And he won't believe you didn't give me anything useful, intentionally or not. For once in your life, do the right thing, Bob. Tell me where she is. Letting me take Red John out of the picture is your only chance at safety."

"And how many poor fools have believed that line?" Kirkland shook his head. "You have a better chance of winning the lottery than killing Red John."

"Look," Jane said, "we already have physical evidence linking you to a kidnapping. Tell me where she is, and we'll call it even."

"If you had real evidence, you'd have arrested me," Kirkland replied.

"No," Jane said, "because if we arrested you, Red John would move Lisbon. Your big mistake was seeing me without changing clothes after you wrestled with Lisbon. Tell me, how did you come out of that without a broken nose?"

Kirkland chuckled. "Who says she wanted to hit me? She's lonely, you know. And all those pregnancy hormones can really crank up a woman's libido."

Only a lifetime of practice controlling his temper enabled Jane to refrain from punching him. Instead, he smiled. "That's no good, Bob. Even if that's true, I told Lisbon to do whatever she had to if Red John took her. If she tried to escape by making you think she wanted you, I'd only be sorry it didn't work. Now, are you going to do the sensible thing, or do I have to resort to less pleasant methods?"

"I'm not going to tell you where she is," Kirkland said. "Even if I did, you wouldn't be able to get to her. But I can tell you that she's fine. Her new life is a good one."

"All right then." Jane heaved a sigh of patently fake regret. "I guess we'll have to—"

One of the windows along the top of the warehouse walls shattered suddenly, and Kirkland gave a sharp grunt before slumping over.