Chapter 40: Violets
A/N: Dialog marked with an asterisk ("*") is quoted verbatim from The Mentalist Violets episode script.
Party House, Dallas, Early Evening
Jane paused in the living room, mentally going over preparations for conning Pulaski and, with luck, the leader of the art theft gang. Hyped for the con, his head whipped around when the front door suddenly opened.
Lisbon closed the door and turned. Her dress swung sensuously around legs that went on forever atop dangerously high heels. "Hey, Jane. Here I am, teetering around and barely able to breathe-"
"-You're gorgeous!" His smile broke like sunrise, eyes dark as his gaze raked her head to toe.
She swallowed. Thrown off grumbling, she said softly, "Yeah, it is a beautiful dress."
He took two quick steps and clasped her waist. "Not the dress, you." Jane indulged momentarily in the fantasy it was their real home, a real party with them together. He murmured, "Knew it would do you justice."
She put her hands lightly against his chest. "Hey! We're at work, remember?"
His smile dimmed but he didn't let go. "No one else here," and leaned closer for a kiss.
She frowned and pushed harder, "You don't know that! Cameras. Fischer."
He grimaced and reluctantly let go, spreading his hands palms out in surrender. "Killjoy."
Lisbon stepped back and tugged her dress down. In command voice, "Jane, focus. Play after the case." She pivoted and left to check out the catered refreshments.
He sighed and shook his head to clear it. He took the stairs two at a time to reexamine the bedroom art safe. Anticipation and adrenaline would keep him jazzed till the action began. He was looking forward to this, confident but alert to the inevitable unknowns.
Fischer entered moments later and joined Lisbon in the kitchen. The other agents would begin arriving shortly to pose as party guests and servers. Fischer was a little surprised at how natural conducting an elaborate sting had become after a year of working alongside Jane. She pushed aside thoughts of past mistakes, determined to keep learning from the duo's fascinating approach to law enforcement.
FBI, Dallas, Friday Night
Wylie closely monitored the 6th Street bar scene. Cho was already in place playing pool in the back. Abbott appeared shortly and took a bar stool near Pulaski. They couldn't hear much dialog over the ambient noise and the boxing match on the bar TV. Wylie's admiration for his SA grew as Abbott subtly rubbed shoulders with their mark. When Pike expressed interest, Wylie narrated each sign that Pulaski was letting down his guard and enjoying Abbott's company. Though Wylie was fast on the uptake, it had taken a year of Jane's patient tutoring to begin learning the silent body language in which Jane was so fluent. He was gratified he could pick out some of the signs – now that Jane told him what to look for.
As the evening wore on, Wylie's focus remained on the bar. He occasionally checked the party house to be sure it was coming together as it should. Pike returned from the men's room while Wylie's attention was on the party house. They paid only cursory attention to agents posing as guests.
Fischer, Jane and then Lisbon appeared and called for attention to brief the others. The other agents were warned to keep their conversation light and general once Pulaski arrived. Pulaski's photo was passed around. (Jane put it put down the garbage disposal after the briefing.) Obviously, nothing could suggest any connection to law enforcement. Lisbon identified Fischer and Jane for their major roles in the operation. Jane then gave them a brief summary of his, Lisbon, Fischer and Abbott's cover stories. Everyone else was to pretend to be casual acquaintances of a few months since Lisbon and Jane had appeared in Dallas. He reinforced the need to avoid acting like cops, although Lisbon amended that to allow them to act if murder or serious injury seemed imminent. Jane braved Lisbon's annoyance and reiterated, "No cops!" and ended with, "And enjoy yourselves. Fun on the FBI's dime." Party-goers were to start leaving around midnight to clear the stage for their target to appear.
Wylie was several hours into the evening of monitoring Abbott and Pulaski. Though the interaction was unfolding as intended, watching two guys having a few drinks and shooting the breeze was anything but riveting.
"Wylie?" Pike asked, seated just behind Wylie's chair.
"Yeah?" not turning from the screen.
"What's the deal with Lisbon and Jane?"
"What do you mean?" stalled Wylie.
"They together? A couple?"
Wylie carefully avoided looking at Pike. "Um, Lisbon was Jane's first demand when Abbott got him to return to the US." Wylie felt safe repeating that bit of common knowledge around the Austin office.
"So they're a couple?"
Wylie said precisely, "I used to think so. Can't really say, though," pleased to duck the question without actually lying.
"Ah."
Suddenly, "Look! Cho!"
Both leaned in as Cho picked a fight with Pulaski and then Abbott. Wylie jerked and ducked, unconsciously mimicking Cho. A few exciting moments later Cho was on the floor. Cho pulled a gun. Abbott and Pulaski fled.
"Wow!"
"Hot damn. Looked real," Pike seconded admiringly.
Wylie, swiveled around in his chair, grin threatening to split his face.
They could still hear muffled conversation from the open cell phone Abbott carried. That was a precaution since it was too dangerous to wear a wire. A few minutes ticked by without anything alarming so Wylie muted the bar audio and switched focus to the party monitor. The screen was split eight ways to capture images from the strategically located cameras: Foyer, living room, kitchen, back door, sliding door to the pool, and one in each of the three bedrooms upstairs. Abbott's feed was suddenly quieter and Wylie heard Abbott say, "Got a great party to go to" with an indistinct reply.
"They should arrive in ten minutes."
Pike snorted and said with a hint of envy, "Abbott's car could get them there in five."
Wylie turned on the audio to Jane's in-ear receiver. The tiny electronics device was invisible without an otoscope. "Jane, nod if you hear me." Jane's gaze flicked to the living room camera and nodded. "Abbott and Pulaski left the bar three minutes ago, should be there in seven. I'm set on this end with eyes all over. I'll let you know if someone crashes your party."
Cho silently appeared behind Pike and Wylie, absently rubbing the knuckles on his right hand. "How's it going?"
"Cho! You were great!" Wylie gushed. After a moment, "Abbott, too."
Cho nodded. "Pulaski buy it?"
"On their way now." Wylie rose and pulled off the headset. "I need to make a pit stop while I have a chance." He hurried away.
Cho dropped down in a side chair and shook out his arms after the fake-but-demanding brawl.
Pike looked at him with a small smile. "You've got a groupie there, Cho."
Cho looked over, startled out of his wool-gathering. "Huh?"
"Wylie."
"Oh. I know." Changing the subject, "Where are the art squad agents?"
"Tork and my team are stationed near the house. My guys were tailing Pulaski so we didn't want to use them inside in case Pulaski made them." He rubbed his chin, "More agents in that house than this building. But Abbott wanted to be safe since the party 'guests' aren't armed."
"Abbott, not Jane?"
"Mmhm."
"What comes after the party?"
"Jane expects the leader of the gang to show up, maybe tonight. Strike a deal. Then tomorrow he somehow expects the guy to lead him to his stash of stolen art, so we can put him at the scene of the recent murder. Not quite sure how, but Fischer had to arrange a parade and Wylie's gonna drive a taxi that picks the guy up." He added defensively, "Wylie's a techie not a field agent, but we ran out of agents who haven't been seen already." Cho imperceptibly frowned at that.
Cho replied, "It's Jane," as though that explained everything. "Jane'll be with the gang leader alone?"
"Agent Lisbon's posing as his partner."
Cho blinked at that. Posing? After a moment Cho asked, "Tork? Richard Tork?"
"Yeah, he's been filling in for you from the Phoenix office."
Cho said noncomittally, "Small world."
Pike looked puzzled. "You're in California permanently, right?" wanting to be sure.
"Here for my movers. Jane's just using me for his scam."
"Yeah, he does that," tone more barbed than the words.
Wylie reappeared and donned his gear. "Curtain coming up on act two."
Party House, Dallas, Late Evening
Lisbon opened the door. "Dennis, you wicked man. Where have you been?"* she teased with a kiss to his cheek. "And who is this handsome brute?"* she asked, eyeing the unfamiliar arrival.
"Teresa, this is my good friend Aaron."*
""Fabulous to meet you, Aaron,"* she smiled. "Any friend of Dennis. Come on in."* Then Jane appeared to greet the arrivals and exchange pleasantries before leaving Pulaski to enjoy the party.
Monitoring from the FBI, Cho, Pike and Wylie watched Jane's drama unfold according to script. Lisbon flirted and charmed her way through the evening, thoroughly owning her role. It was something she'd never have been comfortable doing pre-Jane. Jane ... was Jane. He became a credible art thief with nothing more than the affectation of a scarf and absence of a vest. Cho reflected on how far they'd come since Jane showed up on CBI's doorstep like a bedraggled feral cat.
Fischer surprised Cho as she shamelessly flaunted her sexuality around Pulaski. Judging by their open-mouthed stares, Pike and Wylie were floored too. Sensuality surrounded her like perfume. After a few minutes of conversation, she drew Aaron Pulaski up the stairs with a single glance over her shoulder. Wylie hit a key to enlarge the picture from the master bedroom camera. Away from the party music, audio was suddenly clear. Uncomfortable watching, they watched anyhow.
Pulaski caught up with her in the darkened master bedroom and grabbed her upper arm.
"Wow. –Hey, slow down there, cowboy."* She lightly pushed him off onto the bed.
"What's the matter, baby?* You're smokin' hot.*" He pulled her down to him. "C'mere."
Jane interrupted from the doorway. "When I said, 'Make yourselves at home,'" as he turned on a light, "that's not exactly what I meant. That's – that's my bed."*
Tearing himself away, "Sorry man. You see a chance like this, you take it."* Pulaski got up to face his host.
Chidingly, "Kim, really?! You have no self-control. –Out!"*
Sulking, "Sorry, boss."*
"Anything that moves,"* he disapproved as she left.
Pulaski looked around and stopped dead. "What the hell. –Is that a Van Gogh?!"*
"I'd never have pegged you as an art lover. -It's a fake."*
Pulaski moved from object to object. "All of it?"*
Regretfully, "Yeah, afraid so. I couldn't afford them if they were real."*
"What is it that you do? I mean, for money?"*
"Software."*
"Software?! I haven't seen a computer in your whole house."*
"Never take your work home with you. Key to a happy life,"* Jane chuckled. "Let's go downstairs and have some fun."*
At the FBI, the three men watched Jane shepherd Pulaski back to the party. Fischer was nowhere in sight. Wylie tracked Pulaski to the deserted kitchen and listened in.
After checking he was alone, Pulaski pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. "Hey, it's Pulaski. I think I found something. ... Nope. You're gonna want to see this yourself..."
At the FBI, Wylie said quietly into the mic for Jane's and Lisbon's receivers, "Heads up. Pulaski made a call. ... He just unlocked the sliding doors." Jane's grin looked like benign pleasure at a successful party.
Midnight came and went. Gradually so did the guests. True to her role, Lisbon walked from room to room, collecting the more offensive party debris and verifying the rooms were empty. Mounting the stairs, she called, "Patrick? You up there? Everyone's gone." She entered the master bedroom and found a stranger gazing at a painting. "I'm sorry. The party's over,"* she said with just the right amount of regret.
The man pivoted sharply. "Where did you get this painting?"*
"My boyfriend will know. He's on his way up."*
FBI, Dallas
The four agents eagerly watched the monitor as events unfolded in the master bedroom.
Abbott walked in, having dropping Pulaski back at his car after the party. "Got a nibble?"
Wylie, "Yep. This guy came in the door Pulaski unlocked. Hid in a bathroom till now."
"We got a name?"*
"I'm working on it,"* the tech answered. He captured an image of the stranger's face, applied facial recognition software, and ran it against law-enforcement and other databases.
Party House, Dallas
Jane entered the bedroom. "Oh! I keep finding strangers in my bedroom. Guess it was a good party. –You all right, Teresa?"*
"I am now that you're here. He wants to know about the painting."*
"It is a fake."
The stranger turned a sharp glance on the foppish host. "Ah, no it isn't. It's the real McCoy. It was stolen two years ago."*
"Really?!"*
"Yeah. So – what's the deal?"*
"Uh, I don't know that we've met. I'm Patrick."* Jane extended his hand, then let it drop when the stranger declined to shake. "...And this is Teresa."*
Lisbon smiled, "Hi."*
"MacKaye."*
FBI, Dallas
Wylie keyed in the name and read from the results of his searches. "Edwin MacKaye, a Dallas resident, business owner. He owns some local restaurants, fast food joints, that kind of thing."*
Abbott commented while keeping an eye on events at the house. "Cash businesses. That's good for money laundering."*
Cho asked, "Criminal record?"*
Wylie, "No, he's clean. Ex-military. –Oh, and look, a minor in art history."
Abbott rumbled his satisfaction, "That's our boy. If Jane's theory is right, he should be the leader of the gang, which means he's the one that killed Hennigan."*
Pike snorted. A welter of expressions flew across his face: Satisfaction, puzzlement, envy, appreciation, dislike. Jane had flushed out the gang leader against all odds all right, but only after being an ass by throwing down the challenge in public.
Cho, bluntly, "How do we keep Jane and Lisbon safe?"
Abbott faced him with a frown. "Lisbon's armed." He amended, "Her piece is in the house." He waved at Wylie, "We're monitoring everything," then nodded at Pike, "And we have agents stationed outside in constant contact with us here."
Cho nodded. "I'd like to stay till the arrest."
Abbott shrugged. "The more the merrier," and turned back to the monitor.
Party House, Dallas
MacKaye, "Okay, cut the cute stuff. You stole these. It's what you do. –I mean, these are all stolen."*
Lisbon asked tentatively, "How do you know so much about it? Are you a cop?"*
Standing next to Lisbon, Jane looked from MacKaye to her and smiled. "Oh, don't you get it? This gentleman's one of us."*
Doubtfully, "He doesn't look like one of us."*
"No-o-o, he's a heavy. A shooter."*
Tiring of their chatter, MacKaye said curtly, "I'm direct. And you're one of those grifter types, huh? You prefer tricks?"*
Lisbon acknowledged, "You could say that."* The danger and challenge contained in Jane's wide smile would be missed by anyone who didn't know him well.
MacKaye plowed on, "Never saw a trick that could beat a bullet."*
Jane, mildly, "Well, it's always nice to get tips from the competition."
"I don't have competition. See, Texas is my territory. You've gotta go someplace else. I hear Miami's hot."*
Jane mocked, "Are you saying, 'This town ain't big enough for the two of us'?"*
MacKaye smiled, "Yeah," and moved closer to Jane with unmistakable threat. "I'm not playing with you."*
"Oh, I get it. But I think you're a businessman. Now, you can try to run us out of town. Or maybe you can stop and think about what brought us to town."*
"You got a job planned?"*
"Big one."*
MacKaye guessed, "The Vermeer at the DMA?"*
"Lousy escape routes."* Lisbon thought, Jane was busy when he was in Dallas.
"Hmph. –The Hearst sculpture?"* he hazarded, referring to the traveling exhibit from the William Hearst collection.
"Too heavy."*
MacKaye snapped his fingers, "Violets!"*
"Give the man a cigar. He's a sharp one."* A frisson of fear ran through Lisbon. Jane kept pushing and pushing MacKaye, a man who didn't strike her as having a sense of humor, much less tolerance for con men.
Curiosity satisfied, MacKaye reiterated, "Well, I guess you've got three options. You can cut me in on the job. You can get out of town – tonight. Or, I just hurt the two of you badly. What do you think?"*
Sarcastically without fear, "Y'know, you should have been a salesman."* He turned to Lisbon. "What do you think, darling? Are we going to cut this thug in on our plan?"*
Equally cool, "It's better than him hurting us badly."*
Jane turned to MacKaye, smiled and again extended his hand. "Welcome to the team." This time MacKaye took it.
Lisbon and Jane escorted MacKaye to the door then bolted it after he left. Then they checked the other ground floor doors and windows. Back in the living room, Jane sank onto the couch with his head back and eyes closed.
"Hey, Jane. Working perfectly so far."
He sighed without opening his eyes. "Yeah, so far so good. MacKaye's greedy. Think he'll act tomorrow."
"I'll get the lights. Time to turn in," she said, pulling off first one high heel then the other and placing them on the stairs. She flexed her sore feet and wiggled her toes as she made the rounds turning off lights.
She turned off the living room lights with a remote before noticing Jane had simply leaned over to lie on the couch instead of going upstairs.
Quietly, "Jane, wake up. Come on, you'll sleep better in a bed." She shook his shoulder gently but he was dead to the world. She'd seen this many times. Jane was hyped during one of his schemes, only to crash once the action was over and the adrenaline wore off. She brushed his hair aside and kissed his forehead. She spread the throw over him and wearily made her way upstairs, torturous heels in hand.
She called in to wrap up the night's operation, putting it on speaker phone while she removed earrings and other jewelry.
"It's Pike."* Abbott, Wylie, and Cho had left to find dinner. Pike volunteered to stay till Lisbon or Jane reported in.
"Hey, it's Lisbon. I'm just checking in before I go to bed."*
"Oh, well we shut down the inside cameras so you don't have to worry about any more prying eyes. And just so yo know, there is someone outside the house. We're guessing it's another one of MacKaye's crew."
She smiled tiredly and said wryly, "Well, that's going to make me sleep better."*
"No, we've got eyes on him. Don't worry. You're safe." Voice a bit warmer, "I wouldn't lie to you."*
"That's a nice change of pace. I feel like everything I've done today is a lie."*
"Well, you were, uh, ... you were real good."*
"I learned from the best."* Her stomach rumbled embarrassingly and she remembered she hadn't eaten before the op – had even joked about it with Pike. "I'm starving and there's nothing to eat in this house."* She thought about left over hors d'oeuvres and amended, "Mainly rumaki, I think. Everyone hates chicken liver, I guess."
"Well, that's a shame. There's a pretty good diner just down the street from you. Biscuits and gravy if that's your thing."*
She grimaced, glad there was no more video. "Not really."*
"All right, what about pancakes?"*
"I could go for some pancakes!"*
"They have about six kinds – chocolate chip, banana... All that good stuff."*
"Now you're just trying to torture me."*
"Maybe. Just a little bit. –I could have some sent to you."*
"You said there's a guy watching the house, remember?"*
"Yeah. I won't tease you anymore. I won't even mention the waffles."*
Her stomach rumbled again. "I'm going to go downstairs and see if there's some canapes left from the party* – anything other than rumaki."
"All right, well, I don't know what a canape is* or a rumaki," Pike said with a smile in his voice. "But bon appetit. Good night, Lisbon."*
"Good night."
Deciding she'd shower in the morning, Lisbon settled for washing off the make-up and changing into pajamas. Even off, all the cameras made her uncomfortable. She then tiptoed downstairs to scrounge for left-over appetizers that didn't involve liver. Pleasantly shooting the breeze with Pike had been calming after a long evening pretending to be the girlfriend of a thief and grifter and then jousting with MacKaye. Nope, just partner of an ex-con man who's the best detective I'll likely ever know.
When done in the kitchen she made her way back through the darkened house. Jane hadn't eaten either but he was still asleep. After years and years of insomnia, she let him sleep. Anyhow, she felt it would be weird sleeping in the same bed while still technically on the job. She kissed his cheek and went upstairs to brush her teeth and turn in. Tomorrow promised to be exciting.