Sheriff Of RedRock

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken this long to update. Life just ran over me with a bus, and so I have had little spare time to write. Anyway, please accept this chapter as an apology for me abandoning all of you. Enjoy.

Chapter three

It took most of the afternoon for Kirkland to ride back to Brookland, where Red John was. It was pitch dark by the time he arrived in the tiny town. He jumped off of his horse and tethered it to the outside of the local saloon. Inside, Red John and his gang of bandits were drinking strong whiskey and laughing, celebrating their latest attack. "Bob," yelled someone from within the group, spotting Kirkland at the door. "Come join us. You're just in time."

Kirkland headed over to where his boss sat, and took a large swig out of the closest cup. "Red John," he said, glancing around nervously. "We have a problem."

Red John frowned at him in confusion. Very little posed a problem to Red John and his men. "I don't follow, Kirkland. What problem?"

Kirkland took a seat someone offered to him and related what he had seen and heard. The seven other men in the gang sat silently, digesting the strange information. Finally, one of the men turned to Red John. "Now what do we do?"

Red John turned to the man, Reede Smith, and smiled. "You and Kirkland will head back to RedRock and see just how much of a threat this woman sheriff is."

The two men nodded and stood up. They knew they would have to sleep along the way, arriving in RedRock the following morning. They would wait until night time before actually doing anything in RedRock.

The two men left, and Red John sat quietly. He was brooding over the story Kirkland had told him. It wasn't the fact that there was a new sheriff that bothered him. It was the foolishness of the state troopers, giving a woman a man's job. Red John did not think highly of women, thinking of them as mere objects to be taken and conquered. The idea of this Lisbon in a position of power made him feel as though his manhood had been removed with a rusty dagger.

He took an angry swig of his whiskey, and stood up. He strode from the saloon and up the street, wanting to be alone with his newfound hatred for this sheriff.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

Lisbon stood up and stretched. A thick file sat open on her desk, filled with newspaper clippings and handwritten notes. This was her Red John File. Everything she had collected concerning Red John since her mother had died was in this file. A map of California lay next to the file. Tiny ink crosses marked towns that had been attacked, with the date and year scrawled nearby. Lisbon knew it was futile that she would ever catch Red John, but she was willing to try.

It was getting dark outside, and Lisbon decided that it was time to head back to Ms Harrigan's boarding house for the night. It was the end of her second day in the town, and talk of her shooting match with Bosco the day before had spread quickly. She shut her file and dropped it into the desk drawer. The door opened as she rounded her desk to grab her waistcoat, and Rigsby peered around it. "Sheriff," he said. "Cho and I are heading to the bar. You want to join us?"

Lisbon shrugged. "Sure. I guess I can have a couple drinks with you."

Rigsby smiled and followed Lisbon up the street to the local bar. She pushed the doors open and walked in. She knew what to expect; men sitting drinking alcohol while several young women made their rounds looking for any spare cash. The room went momentarily silent as the sheriff entered, but it didn't stay that way for very long. The men all picked up their conversations again, watching the sheriff make her way to the bar counter. "Whiskey, Bertram," said Lisbon, sitting down on the nearest barstool.

Bertram nodded warily. "Are you sure you don't want a sarsaparilla instead, Ms Sheriff?"

Lisbon shook her head. She had been drinking since joining the state troopers, and could hold her liquor with the best of them. Bertram shrugged and handed the glass over to the sheriff. She picked up the glass and took a sip. The drink was strong, and the alcohol burned her throat, but Lisbon ignored it. Rigsby sat down next to her and smiled. "The men aren't exactly used to women coming into the bar to drink. Just ignore the staring."

Cho sat down on her other side and ordered a whiskey. The three of them drank in silence, just listening to the noise around them.

A sudden commotion at the end of the bar caught the attention of the three officers. Two men – Lisbon knew they weren't locals, even though she couldn't see their faces – were harassing one of the young women. Cho stood up and headed over to the end of the bar to intervene, and Rigsby followed him. Lisbon stood up, and felt her blood run cold. She recognised the two men at the end of the bar, because she had been staring at their faces all afternoon.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

Causing trouble in the bar had never been the original plan. They were there to gather information. However, Smith was always up for causing trouble if he could. Kirkland went along with it. The two men watched the deputies approach them, and Smith laughed. "Can we help you, gentlemen?"

The Asian deputy grabbed the arm of the serving wench and pulled her off to one side. She was a pretty blonde girl, and had introduced herself to the men as Summer. The other deputy, a tall dark haired man, stepped up to the men. "We would like you to quit causin' trouble, or you will be forced to leave."

Smith stood up. "I don't take orders from no deputy."

Lisbon stepped forwards, stopping just behind Rigsby. "Maybe you'd take them from a sheriff then. Get the hell out of this bar."

Smith and Kirkland laughed. "I don't see no sheriff here, ma'am," said Kirkland. "Just two men and a little lady with a sheriff's badge tryin' to tell us what to do."

Lisbon scowled and took a step closer. "what you were doin' ain't no way to treat a lady. Now get the hell out, before I put a bullet through you."

The entire bar was silent as Lisbon spoke, and the two men glanced at one another. This woman was clearly serious, but Smith was never one to follow orders. He listened to Red John, not some woman trying to play sheriff. "Lady," he said. "I suggest you run along home. Your husband must be wondering where you are."

Lisbon watched Cho reach for his gun in rare anger. Smith saw too, and pulled his own revolver out. Everything moved in slow motion, but Lisbon knew that Cho wouldn't have his gun out in time. Smith was known for his quick draw, but Lisbon was faster. She had her revolver in her hand before Cho had his, and fired a single shot. The bullet ripped through the air and hit its mark; Smith's right hand. His revolver scuttled along the floor into the corner as Smith grasped his hand in agony.

Kirkland pulled his own revolver out, but Lisbon fired at him too. The bullet struck him in the right shoulder. Smith pulled out a second revolver, but Lisbon was too quick for him. She fired another shot at Smith, this time hitting him in the chest. Smith went down, and Kirkland saw the opportunity to flee. He bolted out of the door and grabbed his horse. He rode out of the town still clutching his shoulder. He knew Smith was lying dead in the bar, and Kirkland could only guess at how mad Red John would be. Smith was one of Red John's best and closest men.

Back in the bar, Lisbon looked down at the prone figure of Smith in disgust. Cho glanced over at Lisbon, still holding his unused revolver. "Good shooting, Boss," he said.

Lisbon glanced over at him, putting her gun away. "Not good enough. Kirkland got away."

Rigsby frowned, but said nothing. Bertram and two other men carried the body of Smith out to the doctor's agency and left him on the porch. Lisbon paid for her whiskey and left, heading back to the sheriff's office. Her two deputies followed her. "Boss," said Rigsby. "How did you know his name was Kirkland? They never said their names to either of us."

Lisbon turned to face her two men. "Robert Kirkland and Reede Smith. They are two of Red John's men."

Rigsby glanced across at Cho. Both of them were confused as to how she knew that. "Look, sheriff," said Rigsby kindly. "How about you explain it all to us tomorrow morning?"

Lisbon nodded. "Good night, gentlemen."

"Good night, Sheriff."

Lisbon entered the office and lit a nearby kerosene lamp. She sat at her desk and pulled out the file. She sifted through the eight wanted posters until she found the two she was looking for. Her hunch had been correct. Those two men were in Red John's gang. Lisbon sat making notes on a sheet of paper. She was so engrossed that she failed to notice the figure in the doorway. "Ms Teresa," a voice said. "Isn't it a bit late for you to still be working?"

Lisbon jumped, and spilt ink all over her notes. She looked up into the eyes of Mr Jane, the general store owner. "Mr Jane," said Lisbon, blotting her notes dry. "What on earth are you doing here so late?"

Jane shrugged. "I have no one to go home to, Ms Teresa. I saw your light on and came over to investigate."

Lisbon watched as Jane shut the door and headed over to Lisbon's desk. "Mr Jane, I really don't think your company is necessary."

Jane shrugged. "You look like you could use a strong drink, Ms Teresa."

Lisbon held up her hand. "Please just call me 'Lisbon'. It's less tedious that way."

Jane laughed. "In that case, call me 'Jane'."

Lisbon laughed with him, and watched as he opened a panel in the wall. He pulled out a bottle and two glasses and set them down on Rigsby's half of the desk. "There's whiskey in the wall?"

Jane poured two glasses and took one over to Lisbon. "One of the first sheriff's had the panel made to hide the fact that he was an alcoholic. It's been used ever since to hide whiskey from Bosco. He disapproves of lawmen drinking on the job."

Lisbon watched the man sit down opposite her. She bent back over her file and continued to read her notes. "Was Red John the reason for your mother's death?" asked Jane.

Lisbon glanced sharply up at him. "Did Bosco tell you?"

Jane smiled and shook his head. "I didn't always own a general store in a small town. I used to be part of a carnival. I was a psychic."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow. "Psychic? Like telling the future and stuff like that?"

Jane shook his head. "I pretended to communicate with the dead. I told people what they wanted to hear. For example, I know a lot more about you than what you think I know."

Lisbon sat back. "I don't think so."

Jane rested both elbows on the table. "You grew up with three brothers, all younger than you. You were very young, not much older than eleven or twelve, when your mother was shot. You blame Red John. You joined the troopers because you wanted the chance to kill Red John yourself."

Lisbon shrugged. "That's common knowledge around the town."

Jane didn't look away. "You were seventeen when your father killed himself."

Lisbon jerked bolt upright. Jane had struck a serious nerve. "That knowledge leaks to nobody," said Lisbon, her teeth clenched.

Jane shook his head. "It wouldn't be very good for the town to know that the sheriff was beaten by her own father. I do know that you selflessly took most of the beatings so your three brothers wouldn't."

Lisbon scowled. "Do you know what it's like to be a mother and a father to three boys? Tommy was just seven when my father shot himself. I was forced to learn how to shoot just to keep them all alive. Once James turned eighteen, he took over."

Jane smiled. "That was when you became a trooper."

Lisbon nodded. "What about you?" she asked, eager to turn the attention away from herself. "Why the wedding ring?"

Jane glanced down at his hand. "I keep it to remember my late wife. She helped me leave the carnival and start a new life out west."

Lisbon cocked her head. "How did she die?"

Jane took a swig of the whiskey and pulled a face. "She was killed by a herd of stampeding buffalo. She had just jumped off of the wagon to fill up the water flasks when I heard the noise. I tried to call her, but it was too late."

Lisbon reached forward and picked up her glass. "I don't mean to sound rude, Jane, but I do sense that there is more to the story."

Jane glanced down. "Our young daughter was with her."

Jane pulled out an ornate gold pocket watch and set it of the table. Lisbon picked it up. It had words carved into the top. "To our dearest Patrick. Love Angela and Charlotte."

Lisbon opened it and saw a tiny photograph. It was a picture of a young woman and a young girl. "It was given to me on the last birthday I had with them. Charlotte would be twelve this year."

Lisbon closed the watch and handed it back to Jane. "It is late," said Lisbon. "I should head back to Ms Harrigan's house."

Jane stood up and followed Lisbon to the door. "Good night, Ms Sheriff."

Lisbon smiled. That seemed to be the name that was catching on the most. "Good night, Mr Jane."

Jane stood on the porch and watched Lisbon walk off into the silvery moonlight. She really was an extraordinary woman, and Jane knew he wanted to know more. He took one last deep breath and headed off in the opposite direction.

A/N: So, I hope you have enjoyed this chapter. I apologise again for leaving this for so long. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. I really do appreciate your comments. Thanks.