Chapter 4 - New Frown In Town

"You scared the woman to death!" Jane told him. "That's why she's looking at you like that. You're lucky I didn't shoot you!"

Wayne Rigsby had the decency to look ashamed of himself. He slid onto the chair at the end of the island and grabbed a piece of egg off Jane's plate.

"Sorry about that," Wayne said to Lisbon, swallowing the bit of food. "The door was locked and nobody answered when I knocked."

"This idiot, here, is Wayne Rigsby. A member of my unit," Jane introduced. "This is Teresa Lisbon. Currently in hiding."

Wayne smiled at her, but it faded when she did not smile back at him. He turned to Jane and pulled a file from his inner jacket pocket, sliding it over the counter to Jane.

"What's this?"

"Seems like our boy Red John struck again last night," Wayne said, noticing Teresa straighten up and look over at Jane who was looking through the report. "Minelli told me to bring it up to you and see what you can see. Says this murder was done after the attack on you," he said, turning to Lisbon now. "Figured maybe he needed to get his jollies off since he was interrupted the first time."

"And Minelli tells me I'm tactless," Jane muttered. "This smiley is different."

Lisbon tried to peer over to look at the file, but Jane picked it up and looked pointedly at Rigsby, who stole another bit of egg off the plate and was still staring at Lisbon peculiarly.

"Hey! Stop staring at her. She's not interested in you, Bert," Jane said irritably, snapping his fingers in front of Rigsby's face. "Why is this smiley different?" Jane pulled the photo from the paperclip holding it and plopped it down in front of him.

"Stop calling me Bert!" Rigsby said. "I'm much more handsome. And I wasn't looking at her for that reason. Though, she does have a striking profile. Anyway," he said, looking down at the photo, "I don't know. Minelli thought you would."

Lisbon leaned over to have a look at the photo. The smiley face was in its usual spot on a wall, but it was different like Jane said. The mouth of the smile was not turned up like all the other murders. This smile was turned into a frown. She could see Jane looking at her from the corner of her eye, gauging her reaction. She reached over to pick up the photo.

"Let her," Jane said when Rigsby tried to snatch it back. "Maybe she has a clue to it."

Lisbon looked up at Jane and gave him a little nod of appreciation before her eyes traveled back down to the photograph. She had a very good idea of what it was about. She also knew Jane had the same idea, too. She could read it on his face. He just wanted to see if she came to the same conclusion or if her "psychic" skills told her. She could almost feel the cynicism. She sighed and lifted her head up, sliding the photo back over to Jane.

"It's a message," she told them. "The upside down smile is an ode to not killing me... finishing me off. He's sad," she explained. "He's upset he left a loose end." She pushed her plate of food away from her, no longer hungry. Rigsby took her plate and took her toast.

"He's also pissed off," Jane added. "The frown is in anger, not really sadness," he corrected her. "He knows he has unfinished business."

"Boss wants you to go check it out," Rigsby said. "You have more experience with Red John than anyone." His eyes slowly fell to Lisbon beside him. "Well, almost everyone."

"Where is it?" Jane asked. "Minelli thinks it's a good idea to bring her along? Aren't I supposed to be protecting her? Not bringing her out in public?"

Rigsby held up his hands in defense. "Hey! Don't shoot the messenger. You could call him, but the reception is off out here in the sticks. No surprise there," he scoffed. "She's a CI for us, right? So how about you put her to work?"

"Do I have a choice?" Jane sighed. "What the hell is she going to inform me of? That someone likes to finger paint on the damn walls?"

He was being mean, he knew. But, dammit. His job was to keep her in a position to be in a safe environment, and Minelli was having him drag her out in the open. It was risky. But he did know the most about Red John. His eyes closed for a brief moment and then opened them.

"Fine," he said. "We'll head out tomorrow morning."

"Sac PD is pretty pissed that Minelli got them to sign off on you keeping her up here," Rigsby said, jamming a thumb at Lisbon. "Also, the fact they are letting you have a look at the crime scene. After... you know..." Rigsby trailed off.

"Ask me if I give a damn about Sac PD," Jane told him. "I'll read the rest of this tonight," he added, holding up the file.

Rigsby rose from his seat and nodded his head. "I gotta get back. Cho's not allowed to order pizza alone anymore since he keeps ordering plain cheese," he said, grabbing another piece of Lisbon's toast off the plate. "Sorry for scaring you." He turned and walked to the door. "See you tomorrow, Jane."

Lisbon and Jane watched as he left through the large doors. Jane came around the island and walked over to them, pulling out the key and locking the doors. He turned to her as he stuffed the key back in his vest pocket. He shook his head at her, clearly still upset that he was forced to drag her to a crime scene.

"You don't want me to go with you," she stated matter-of-factually. "I can handle it."

"Can you?" he asked her, coming to sit on the stool Rigsby had just vacated. "Because I can't be watching you while I am trying to work. If you pull another runner on me, you could lose your life, Teresa," he told her. "And I don't want that to happen to you."

"What? Like I can't behave myself? The hospital was because of... Well, it won't happen again!" she protested.

"Oh, sheep dip it won't!" he said.

There was a moment of silence before Lisbon burst out laughing. "Sheep dip?"

It took a moment for his brain to catch up with her. He cracked a smile and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. His eyes wandered over her face as she laughed. It was a beautiful thing to see. The freckles that splattered her nose and cheeks moved with the crinkle of her mouth; her green eyes shined brightly and her teeth showed through, allowing him to see the perfect set for the first time since he met her.

"It's something my wife used to say," he told her. "She was never one for cursing."

He told her he'd never discuss his wife with her anymore, but he supposed telling her that couldn't hurt. She pretty much got the hint not to ask him about his past again. He'd respect what he could of hers, at least what wasn't written in her file. Everything else was for her own safety that he know. He was looking at something shining off her neck from the sunlight of the kitchen. It caught his eye as he prepared to turn away from her and clean up from breakfast.

He hadn't noticed her wearing it before. He pointed to it and watched her gaze follow his finger to the necklace. She reached up and pulled at it gently with her fingers.

"What's that?" Jane asked.

She cleared her throat. "My husband's wedding ring," she told him, sadness creeping up in her voice.

"Oh, God! Teresa, I'm so sorry!" he said, shaking his head at his own classlessness. "Really."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she replied. She stroked the ring as she looked up at him. "It's my only connection to him."

He understood that more than she knew. "I'm sorry," he told her. "For everything that's happened to you, Teresa."

"Do you have anything that reminds you of your wife?" she asked. "Something you can't let go of?"

"Yes," he told her. "But it's not a psychical thing I can't let go of." He did not elaborate.

She stared at him for a long time, her eyes trying to find meaning in why he was being so understanding. Finally, he cleared his throat and slid off the stool to clean up the breakfast dishes. She rose to help him, clearing away their dishes while he started rinsing them to put in the dishwasher.

"Why do you hate the Sac PD so much?" she asked him, handing him a plate. "Or, rather, why is it a mutual dislike?"

"Nosy, are we?"

"Call it a curiosity."

"Curiosity killed the cat," said Jane with a smile.

"Cured Polio, too," she countered with a matching smile.

He waited until all the dishes were in the dishwasher before he answered her. He didn't have a problem telling anyone his beef with Sac and didn't mind anyone knowing it, either. Well, the parts he didn't decide to change, that is.

"I was two years into my job here. Rigsby and Cho and I went to case out a place we thought would be used as a dump site," he explained, washing his hands on a dishtowel and leaning against the counter. "Sac PD had the case. Well, anyway, we converged on the place, and Sac PD came rushing in just as I locked onto the suspect. Scared our target and turned him loose."

"You hate Sac for that? Seems petty and childish," she said, unable to control herself.

He frowned at her. "The situation was dire, Teresa. Anyway, I never forgave those bastards. They never forgave me, either. And I don't care."

"Why were they so upset at you? What did you do?"

"I contacted the Professional Standards Unit and told them they just cost California a diamond," he said simply. "Now, what do two people stuck up in the sticks do for entertainment?" he asked her with a wink, letting her know the conversation was over.

"Don't you have a file to read?"

"You are no fun," he said, making her smile as he passed her, picking up the file.

There was no hesitation when he took her back down into the city in his contraption of a car the next morning. It was a very silent ride, though. Both lost in their own thoughts. Jane's thoughts were on the crime scene he'd be walking into. He wouldn't blatantly admit it to Lisbon, but he was worried about her safety, too, as he chauffeured her around. The upside down smile was a message. He knew those idiots at Sac wouldn't understand what it meant, and all the criminal profilers he heard them get to analyze Red John were either off the mark or completely uneducated about the cases and just making things difficult for him.

For Lisbon's part, she was thinking of last night. She had convinced Jane to allow her to see the file, and in return, she had cooked the dinner, which consisted of a roast, potatoes, carrots and some wine she had found in a back cabinet, in which Jane had told her Sac probably hid on purpose. It was a pretty good night for a cop and his live-in, would-be murder victim.

The file wasn't very interesting in itself, apart from the smiley on the wall. Everything else was details on the woman who lost her life, whom neither she nor Jane knew. She found herself playing with her husband's ring on her necklace as she read the brutal details behind the pictures in the report. She had seen Jane watching her as she took in the words on the page. She even once or twice put her fingers to the wound on her neck.

It was then that Jane noticed for the first time that the gauze she had been sporting was gone. When he had asked her about it, she had told him she couldn't keep it on because of infection as the wound drained. He excused himself and went into the kitchen. She heard him banging around, cursing once or twice, and then he had reappeared with a small, white medical kit.

"There's got to be something in here," he had told her, digging around the box. "Here we go!" he exclaimed, smiling as he had held up a roll of gauze.

Silently, he had put ointment on the stitches and placed fresh gauze over her wound. She had felt his fingers dance gently over her throat as he did so, causing little waves and pulses to flutter down to her stomach. If he noticed it, he hadn't said anything.

She snapped herself back and turned to look at him. He was wearing a look of both concern and of determination. She guessed this was a hard thing for him, even if he was a homicide detective. He pointed up ahead and turned to her, ignoring the fact he had caught her staring at him.

"It's just up here," he told her. "When we get in there, stick with me."

Lisbon nodded her head as he pulled into the driveway of the house. It was still cordoned off with yellow police tape, but no cop or detective was around. This wasn't lost on Jane, who clicked his tongue in disapproval and shook his blond curls.

"This is the kind of shit I am talking about," he told her despairingly. "Always lazy."

He cut the engine and got out, undoing the top of his holster and motioning for Lisbon to get behind him. They both ducked under the police tape and walked up the three steps to the front door. Jane turned the knob and entered, his hand ready on his weapon. It was dark inside. The sun was out, put the shades were drawn to stop nosy neighbors from getting a peek inside.

Jane reached into his jacket pocket and produced a flashlight. He turned it on and handed it to Lisbon.

"Keep that on in front of me," he commanded her. "Keep your eyes open."

They advanced through the first floor, finding nothing out of place. The house was neat as a pin, minus the tracks the forensic guys made walking in and out, and the fingerprint dust everywhere. They started up the stairs and moved into the first bedroom they encountered. It was a baby's nursery, neat and tidy.

"Damn," Jane said under his breath. This woman had a baby. "Come on, next room."

The moved together to the next room. This was the room. On the wall, as they entered, was the smiley face with the frown for a mouth. On the bed, the mattress was stripped down, but there was dry blood all over it and drips on the carpet where it had flowed over. There were small blood spurts on the foot board. Jane looked around the room and could see that the woman had been sleeping when Red John had come in. She hadn't even known what was going to happen to her.

"He caught her by surprise," Jane said to Lisbon. "She was sleeping in her bed and he came in and slaughtered her like a pig." He shook his head and sighed. "Sac PD, you idiots!" he said in disappointment.

He turned himself and looked closer at the smiley with the frowning face. Just perfect. He had pissed off Red John when he interrupted him from killing Lisbon. He couldn't quite see the frown in the dark.

"Hey! Can you shine this light on this? I can't see a damn thing," he asked behind him.

Silence.

He turned and saw that Teresa wasn't in the room with him anymore. He cursed under his breath and raced out of the room. He looked back in the nursery and the small bathroom they didn't get to, but she wasn't there.

"Teresa?" he called out loudly, pulling his Glock from its holster. "TERESA?" he called louder when he got no answer.

He took the stairs back down to the first floor quickly, aiming his weapon as he swept from side to side the living and the dining. When he got to the small kitchen, he breathed a sigh of deep relief as he saw Lisbon staring at the fridge, the flashlight still on in her hands.

"Don't you do anything you are told?" he asked her. "Sometimes I think you need medication. Maybe a GPS tracker sewed in your shirt."

He was too relieved to be angry right now. There would be time for that later. He was concerned, however, when she didn't respond to him. He pressed a hand out and gripped her shoulder.

"Teresa?" he asked.

She pointed to the refrigerator door. "It's me," she said softly. "Me and another photograph."

Jane turned to look at the refrigerator and saw that Lisbon was right. There were two photographs. One was of Lisbon, which Jane assumed was before she was attacked, and the other was a beautiful woman with golden hair. They were pinned up by a cookie magnet with a smile on it. A mocking gesture, no doubt. Jane reached up to pull the golden-haired woman's photo off the fridge.

"Why didn't you stay put?" he asked Lisbon, not taking his eyes off the photograph. "Do you have a death wish or what?"

She shrugged. "He wouldn't leave a frown face and expect that to be the only message," she said. "He has a sense of grandeur. He wants a show. How does he get into homes? The kitchen doors. It's likely he left something else the first place he stepped inside. A token," she explained. "I wasn't wrong."

"I told you to stop reading!" he snapped nastily.

"I didn't read you! Which is what you told me not to do! I was trying to help!" she said defensively. "I was reading Red John's signs!"

"What signs?" he countered. "You didn't follow my rules and you took off and found two photographs that might not be from Red John!"

"I found evidence! You know they are evidence! It's me for God sake!"

"By disobeying me!" He turned to her now. He grabbed her photograph from the fridge and took them in his hand. "Let's go!"

"When are you going to tell me? I know we don't trust each other, but there is a limit, here, Patrick," she said angrily, calling him by his first name and throwing him off.

"What are you talking about?" He gently grabbed her by the crook of her arm, attempting to pull her along.

"When are you going to tell me that the other picture is of your dead wife?"