AN: Thanks for your reviews and feedback on this story. You guys keep me writing!
Erica leads him back inside the house, up a flight of stairs, and down a hallway, one wall of which is made entirely of windows. Jane has to look away from the glaring sunlight, but the afterimage lingers, blurring his vision.
After another few steps, Erica opens a dark wooden door and gestures for him to precede her inside. He does so, turning around to look at her when she doesn't step into the room.
"This is Red John's library," she says, and Jane looks around. A large window takes up most of the east wall, but apart from that, the walls of the library are completely lined with bookshelves. And considering that the room probably has more square feet than Lisbon's entire home, Jane thinks this is saying something. He turns back to Erica, who continues speaking, gesturing to the books nearest her right hand. "This bookcase contains everything Red John has ever written: books, articles, lectures. He has graciously given you permission to read them. Don't make him regret his generosity."
And she closes the door behind her.
Jane doesn't move for a few seconds as he mulls this latest development over.
Red John must be fairly sure of Jane's desperation in order to allow him access to these published works, all of which most likely carry the serial killer's real name.
Jane can't say he disagrees.
Intrigued, he moves toward the shelf, reaching for the most pristine of the books, thinking it will be Red John's most recent publication. He pulls out a large, hardcover textbook that appears to be an edited volume. His attention is immediately drawn to the name on the cover.
Timothy Carter.
Jane frowns.
He knows he's heard the name before, but it takes him a while to place it.
Finally, a couple of minutes later, it comes to him. The day the team had been called in to work the case of Paula Greenwood, the temporary janitor, Jane had gone over to Lisbon's apartment. Her TV had been on as they entered her living room, some news program describing how a local college professor had won a national award.
The professor had been named Timothy Carter.
Jane flips open the book to the back inside cover. A picture stares back at him of the man who he'd met in the mall a few weeks ago. Underneath is a brief description.
Timothy Carter received his undergraduate degree in criminal justice from Yale University before going on to earn his doctorate at the University of California-Berkeley. He is the Distinguished Chair of the Criminal Justice Department at San Francisco State University and the bestselling author of eleven books, two edited collections, an introductory criminal justice textbook, and over one hundred peer-reviewed journal articles. In his spare time, he often lends his expertise to law enforcement agencies, providing them with search avenues when all other leads have gone cold.
Jane has to read the last sentence twice before he can comprehend it. When he does, he feels ill—that same sentence could very well have been written about his own work with the CBI.
Though Jane half-desires to shove the book back on the shelf, he tucks it under his arm, grabbing several others with his other hand. He moves to the large wooden table in the middle of the room, sets the books down as he sits, and begins to read.
Though Erica comes in precisely at noon and six o'clock, knocking before she enters, to offer him lunch and dinner, Jane refuses both. Instead, he makes his way through Timothy Carter's bibliography book by book, article by article.
At one point, it occurs to him that being the chair of a criminal justice department means Carter has had a great deal of influence over young students looking to become cops. His omniscient presence at the CBI no longer seems so mysterious.
Jane checks his watch once and is startled to find that it is near midnight. He shivers suddenly, belatedly realizing that the sun had set several hours ago. He rubs his eyes, which have begun to blur everything in his field of vision, and decides to call it a night. He slumps back in the chair, sinking down a few inches, and lets his head come to rest on the back of his chair.
The door opens suddenly, this time without a knock.
"Patrick."
Jane straightens automatically and turns toward the door.
Timothy Carter stands before him, smiling slightly. "I thought I'd find you here," he says, walking over to the table.
Jane watches him intently despite his tired eyes, and Carter pulls out the chair at the end of the table next to where Jane is sitting. He angles his body slightly so that he is facing Jane.
"I thought you were away on business," Jane finally says.
Carter nods. "I was," he confirms. "But Erica kindly let me know that you had given her a call. And your presence here is far more important to me than any business trip. I've been waiting a very long time to make this deal with you."
"You meant that, then?" asks Jane. "What Erica told me?"
"I did," confirms Carter. "I would have proposed a truce a long time ago if I'd thought you were ever in any condition to accept it. But now, things are different." He smiles slightly, and Jane knows who he is thinking about before he even opens his mouth to inquire after her. "How is dear Teresa?"
"Strong. As always," says Jane, wondering why all the air seems to have suddenly disappeared from his lungs. He can tell by Carter's expression that the man knows very well that Jane has confessed his feelings for Lisbon—and that she'd refused him.
Carter reaches up to put a hand on Jane's shoulder. He squeezes slightly before letting go. Jane's jaw clenches. "She'll come around," Carter says. "And if she doesn't, I'm sure you can find ways to change her mind."
"I'm not going to try to change her mind. I respect her decision." Jane takes a shallow breath.
Carter looks like he's mulling his words over before he speaks them. "You know," he says eventually, "I think you love her more than you ever loved Angela. Or Charlotte. At least while they were living."
Jane leans forward, immediately seeking to refute this statement, but he finds he isn't able to. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back again.
He certainly hadn't appreciated Angela and Charlotte enough when they were alive. Because of this, he suspects that he really does love them more now than he did before.
"See?" says Carter, his eyes lighting up behind his glasses. "That love right there—that love you feel for the people who are close to you—that's the reason Teresa will eventually change her mind."
Jane rubs a hand over the side of his face. "My feelings for her are hardly a good thing. They're what brought me here, to make this deal with you."
Carter leans forward. "Speaking of our deal, am I right in assuming you know the basic agreement?"
"I do," nods Jane, "but spell it out for me regardless."
Carter places his elbows on the table and laces his fingertips together.
"After you agree to the truce, we become friends," he says simply.
A sick thought occurs to Jane.
He wonders if friends with benefits would be a better way to describe the situation. After all, Jane certainly feels that what he's doing is perverted enough.
Because what he's doing is essentially sleeping with the enemy.
Carter continues, his expression revealing that he clearly knows what Jane is thinking. "I will not touch anyone you care about; in fact, I will do my best to help them. For example, I will get Teresa back her place as the head of the Serious Crimes Unit."
"And in turn, I…"
"You will inform me of everything said Serious Crimes Unit does. Who they interview, which leads they follow, what evidence they collect."
"Why? You already have people in the CBI."
Carter smiles. "You have no idea how close your team has come in the past to breaking my case wide open. My informants have limits—specifically, timing. It often takes me several days to get updates regarding yourself and Agent Lisbon, and, as I've said, sometimes several days cuts it far too short. I'd prefer to know about any developments as soon as they occur so I can prepare accordingly."
"Meaning you want to ensure that there is no way in hell I'll ever catch you."
"It's a fair trade, is it not? My freedom for Teresa's."
Jane closes his eyes. "Yes," he says, his eyes still shut. "It's a fair trade."
Carter taps his fingers on the dark wooden desk. "Now, it goes without saying that you telling Teresa about this deal will immediately make it null and void. That includes giving her information on my identity, my profession, my estate, or anything in any way to do with me."
Jane finally glances at Carter. "If I'm suddenly worthless working your case—and it's becoming more and more obvious that someone close to Lisbon at the CBI is leaking information—she'll become suspicious."
Carter nods. "We'll be careful. I will give you permission to give her certain leads—which, of course, will appear to get her closer to me but will not actually do so. We'll have to strike a balance, but I believe we can manage."
"I asked Erica this earlier, but I wasn't satisfied by her answer. I'm hoping you will do better." Jane sighs. "Why the hell should I believe that you have any intention of actually granting Lisbon immunity?"
Carter gives him an almost sympathetic look. "You essentially have no choice, Patrick. Either you don't act, ensuring that her life will continue to be a living hell, or you do act, running the risk that I will betray you. However, the latter option also has the potential to give you a life of blissful happiness. What choice is there, really?"
There isn't one, of course, but admitting this to himself is the second most difficult thing Jane has ever done in his life.
The most difficult is extending his arm across the table to shake Red John's hand.
AN: I apologize for the lack of Lisbon in the past two chapters. She is essential to this story, but I made a creative decision when I began this fic to focus on Jane's journey. However, Lisbon will feature prominently in the remainder of the chapters!