AN: I'm continually blown away for the support I've been getting for this story (and the other stories in this trilogy), so thank you for reading! There's still three chapters left, so we're not quite finished yet. And no worries - I'm planning on sticking around long after this story is finished. Let the fandom never die!
For those who were wondering, the Harry Potter quote I mentioned in the last chapter was spoken by Dumbledore. The actual quote: "It is our choices, Harry, that show us who we truly are, far more than our abilities."
Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.
Chapter 7: Our Slates are Clean
The next morning, Lisbon and Jane walked into the FBI conference room that their team had commandeered and found a pale, blond young man typing away at a computer. He looked up and smiled at Lisbon when she entered. Lisbon was taken aback for an instant, thinking he looked much too young to be a federal agent—he looked far more like a student who'd just signed up for his first semester of college classes. She pushed the thought aside.
"You must be Agent Lisbon—and Mr. Jane," the young man said, standing up from his computer and shaking both of their hands.
"Just 'Lisbon'," corrected Lisbon.
"Just 'Jane'," said Jane at the same time.
The blond man kept smiling, seemingly unfazed in the presence of the two older professionals. "I'm Jason Wylie. I've been working with Grace Van Pelt—Agent Cho sent her and her partner to talk with the forensic anthropologist, who had just left a message."
"What did the message say?"
"Dr. Clark didn't give many details, but he did say that he'd finished trying to reverse engineer the bullet. He didn't say if he was successful. I'm currently compiling a list of all the registered weapons Dellinger, Jr. has owned," Wylie said, gesturing to his computer. He grimaced. "And there are a lot of them. Even more, I'd bet, that aren't registered."
Jane looked over at Lisbon. "I don't think we're going to have much luck with trying to match the weapon after all," he said.
"We knew it was a long shot," she agreed. "Where's Cho?"
"Agent Abbott called, and Agent Cho is currently speaking with him."
Lisbon walked around the conference table and took the lid off of a box of files. The box was heartbreakingly empty even after all the work they'd done on the case. Lisbon grabbed a couple of files on Dellinger, Jr. and handed them to Jane. She grabbed a few others for herself.
"Until Cho gets back and informs us what he wants to do next, let's help Wylie," she said, and Wylie beamed again at her offer. "Anything we can find on weapons Dellinger may have had access to, or anything we can find on him at all might be helpful."
By the time Cho arrived seventeen minutes later, Lisbon had very little to show for what she'd gone over. Jane had begun laying out pictures of Dellinger, Jr. on the conference table, ordering them based on the year they'd been taken and making a sort of timeline. He didn't look up when Cho spoke.
"I just finished talking with Abbott," said Cho. "He's frustrated with the case, just like we are, but he doesn't have any suggestions beyond what we're already doing."
Lisbon looked at Cho's body language. He seemed tenser than usual. "Is he going to take us off the case if we don't find something soon?"
"No," said Cho, and he sat down beside Lisbon. "But he did just tell me that his wife got that promotion she'd been hoping for."
Wylie's typing became inconsistent, as though he were trying but not quite succeeding in keeping his focus on his work rather than the conversation Lisbon and Cho were having.
"Well, that's good news, right?" asked Lisbon. "It's kind of a big deal for her."
"It's good news for Lena Abbott," confirmed Cho. "But Abbott himself didn't see her getting this promotion for another two years at least. And now that she's got the job, the two of them are moving to DC."
Lisbon's heart sank as she put two and two together. "So Abbott's passing up his promotion to move with her."
"The promotion is going to go to someone else well-established in Austin," said Cho. "But they'll want to handpick their own team, and it doesn't seem like the spots will go to us."
"What did Abbott have to say about this?" asked Lisbon, frustrated.
"He's going to make a bunch of calls. The job he's already got lined up in DC is pretty high up, so he has some good connections. He still promised to get us all positions with the Bureau—if we still want them—though he can't guarantee we'd all be on the same team. Maybe not even in the same city."
"And Abbott can't build his own team in DC?" asked Lisbon. Washington was beautiful, she thought vaguely. In her opinion, it was a step up from Austin.
Cho shook his head. "Doesn't work that way."
Lisbon sighed and leaned back in her chair. She closed her eyes.
An image of Northwestern University flashed before her, its grounds covered in fresh snow.
She pushed the thought away and opened her eyes to look at Cho. She nodded. "Guess we'll have to wait and see, then, right?"
Jane finally looked up, having been deaf to their entire conversation. "I found something," he said.
"Yeah?" said Cho, standing up and walking over to Jane's side of the table. Lisbon followed him.
Jane gestured to two photos of a twenty-something year old Dellinger, Jr. from the timeline he'd created.
"This photograph is dated to five days before the death of Lisbon's father," said Jane. "And this photo—two days after. Notice anything?"
Lisbon glanced over both photos, lost, but Cho spotted it right away. "He has a chunk missing from his ear in this photo," Cho said, pointing first to the picture taken after the murder and then to the other photo. "But the ear's intact in the picture from before."
Lisbon looked again. It was a good catch, she admitted, since Dellinger seemed to be so thoroughly disfigured by scars that they all blended together.
"Exactly," said Jane. "How likely is it that Dellinger, Jr. got into a major fight the same week he killed Lisbon's father?"
Cho shrugged. "Well, judging by the state of him…"
"Meh," said Jane. "Balance of probability. It's far more likely that a part of his ear got ripped off in a struggle that preceded the murder of Robert Lisbon than it is that the injury occurred in an unrelated struggle which happened to occur around the same time."
"What are you thinking, Jane?" asked Lisbon, vaguely registering that Wylie wasn't even trying to pretend he was typing anymore.
"I think that your father fought back," said Jane. "He knew Dellinger was trying to kill him, and he fought back—he managed to take a bite out of Dellinger's ear."
"And?" prompted Cho.
"I think we can get that DNA," said Jane.
Lisbon shook her head. "Even if my father bit off part of Dellinger's ear, the saliva in his mouth would contain enzymes to break down the tissue—there wouldn't be anything left now, almost thirty years later."
"Maybe, maybe not," said Jane. "But what if the tissue got wedged between the teeth? The salivary enzymes wouldn't be able to reach it, right? And the tissue—with Dellinger's DNA—would be preserved?"
Cho looked at Jane for a full fifteen seconds, mentally balancing the probabilities.
"I'll call Rigsby and Van Pelt," he finally said. "They're already speaking with Clark—I'll get them to ask if your idea is possible."
Jane's idea turned out not only to be possible but entirely plausible. Cho received a call about an hour later from Van Pelt confirming that Clark had found tissue wedged between Robert Lisbon's superior right incisor and canine. The forensic anthropologist then called in a favor with a forensic geneticist buddy of his, and the geneticist had begun to run the DNA analysis by the time the team called it a day. Though they'd still need a sample for comparison, it was a start.
After supper with the team at a Chicago-style pizza place, Lisbon called Jimmy, who agreed to meet her for a late night hot chocolate run, a childhood tradition she knew he wouldn't be able to decline.
"So…" said Lisbon nervously, lifting the Starbucks cup to her lips even though she knew her hot chocolate would be too warm to drink. She took a sip anyway, and the steaming liquid made her eyes water.
"So," countered Jimmy, taking the lid off his beverage, apparently far more at ease than Lisbon was. Behind them, the barista yelled out a name, and a college-aged couple went to pick up their order.
"So I guess you know what I want to talk to you about," said Lisbon, choosing her words carefully and speaking in a low tone to make it difficult for others to overhear.
Jimmy nodded. "I do," he said. "But here's the thing, sis—as usual, you're trying to be the parent."
"Someone's got to look out for you," said Lisbon pointedly.
Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Look, Tee, that's fine. I get it. I do. But I don't need someone looking out for me—because I'm not gambling anymore."
Lisbon set her cup down and stared at him. "Right," she said, disbelieving.
Jimmy dug in his jeans pocket and flicked a small object over in her direction. Lisbon caught it just as it was about to sail past her ear.
It was an engraved chip, like the kind given out at Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. It read:
James Lisbon—3 months
Lisbon turned the chip over in her hand and looked up at her brother. "You haven't gambled in three months?" she whispered.
"It'll be four next Tuesday," said Jimmy, nodding. "Stan says I only do it because the guys at Gambler's Anonymous buy me cake every month to celebrate."
Lisbon chuckled and handed the chip back over.
"If you don't believe me, I bet those nerds you work with can open up my financial statements and tell you so you can know for sure."
"I believe you," said Lisbon. "I was just…I was just worried about you. I know I haven't been the best sister in the world recently—especially in the last year. And I was just worried because this seemed to happen when I was away…"
She paused for a second to take a deep breath before continuing.
"And I never would have forgiven myself if you'd needed my help and I wasn't around."
Jimmy took a long sip of his hot chocolate. "Life is good, Tee. It got a little rough there when I was paying off my debts, but Stan helped me out, and I've been keeping up with my monthly payments to him."
"Stan paid off your debts?"
"I couldn't get money anywhere else. It's really unfortunate timing, though, because he was trying to start his own business. And I made that more difficult."
"How much do you still owe him?"
"I only have ten grand left on my payments."
Lisbon tapped the lid of her hot chocolate. "Let me pay Stan the money, and you can just pay me back on the schedule you arranged with him. That extra money would help him be stable enough to finally begin looking into starting that business up."
"So your boyfriend's rich, then?" said Jimmy, a teasing glint in his eyes.
She shot Jimmy a look. "I have enough locked up in investments and savings to cover ten grand, Jimmy," she said. "But Jane will probably insist on chipping in."
"You could just not tell him."
Lisbon smiled wryly. "You can't really keep secrets from Jane," she said. "Plus, we try not to keep secrets from each other. It makes things easier."
"Well," said Jimmy, "he's no Woody Squire, but he seems alright."
Lisbon balled up a napkin and shot it at him. Jimmy ducked, and it flew over his shoulder only to bounce harmlessly against the window. The barista glared at them.
"Actually," said Jimmy seriously, "he seems more than alright. I'm glad all that waiting was worth it, Tee. You seem really happy."
"Neither Jane nor I were ready to be in a relationship all those years ago," said Lisbon thoughtfully. "But yes, he was definitely worth the wait."
"Mom would've liked him."
Lisbon's eyes, which had previously been intensely examining a hangnail on her thumb, darted up to meet Jimmy's.
"You think so?"
Jimmy nodded. "He has a great sense of humor, and it's obvious he adores you—he gets this soppy look on his face whenever you two make eye contact."
"He does not!"
"Just pointing out the obvious, Tee," said Jimmy with his hands up in a defensive don't shoot the messenger posture. "So I am going to become an uncle again anytime soon?"
"I think we've decided we want to get married first," hedged Lisbon.
"Ah, a wedding! Even better—if there's an open bar, that is."
Lisbon tossed her mittens at his head.
Jane was already asleep by the time Lisbon returned to their hotel room after leaving Starbucks. But despite her attempts to quietly climb into bed, Jane shifted, turning towards Lisbon to envelop her in his arms.
She sighed contentedly when he kissed her forehead and mumbled sleepily, "I missed you."
She almost felt compelled to point out that they'd only been separated for three hours, but instead she decided on, "I missed you, too."
"How'd the talk go?"
"He showed me his three month chip. It'll be four next week."
Jane tensed, surprised. "How'd we both get that wrong?" he asked incredulously.
Lisbon shrugged. "Don't know. But I'm glad we were." She paused, and her heart started beating faster as if it were anticipating her next words. She was fairly certain Jane noticed immediately. "Jimmy said that Mom would've liked you," she said finally.
Jane's eyes opened, and the faint light from the window reflected in them back to her. "He did?"
Lisbon nodded. "I really wish you could have met her. Although she'd probably start fawning over you—because let's face it, you'd whip out that charm smile of yours and she'd be toast."
"I do not have a charm smile," said Jane indignantly, saying the last two words with a particularly vehement feigned revulsion.
"Oh yeah?" said Lisbon. "I beg to differ. I've been on the receiving end of it more times that I can count."
"Does it work?"
"And you just admitted to it—I win," said Lisbon.
Jane rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. I concede defeat. But does the charm smile work on you?"
Lisbon rolled her eyes right back at him. "Of course it does, Jane! Why do you think I'm in bed with you right now?"
"You may have won that battle, Lisbon, but I think I just won the war," said Jane, and he leaned over to kiss her.
She felt the very same smile he'd been trying to deny against her lips.