Chapter 45 – Getting Away with Murder

They sat opposite each other in the red leather booth they'd occupied no more than a week before. When they'd entered the diner Marcie had greeted them both warmly, but the line between her eyes told them she'd realised quickly they were not in the mood for idle chatter. After taking their orders, a club sandwich for Jane and a tuna sandwich for Lisbon, she'd shuffled back into the kitchen again leaving them, and the two other sole diners who were sitting at the counter, alone.

Jane placed his hands on the formica tabletop and took a deep breath as he intertwined his fingers before releasing them quickly again and instinctively running those on his right hand over the now bare patch of skin on the third one on the left.

"You haven't thought about it, have you?" Lisbon began, upon seeing his nervous display.

He brought his eyes up to hers. "Killing him? I've thought through a hundred scenarios of how that might be accomplished over the years, Lisbon."

"Any that haven't meant you'll spend the rest of your life in a prison cell?"

He shrugged. "Some."

"Okay, like what?" she urged, placing her elbows on the table and leaning forward.

He saw Marcie approach with their tea and coffee and nodded to her, and both leaned back in their respective sides of the booth for her to set the drinks down. "Here you go, my darlings," the waitress said with a beaming smile.

"Thanks, Marcie," Lisbon smiled, taking the mug of coffee and wrapping her hands around it, Jane doing likewise with his tea.

"Orders will be up soon. Now, stay for them this time, okay?" she said to them both with a raised eyebrow.

"You bet." Jane smiled softly at her. When she turned around again the smile fell from his lips as he eyed Lisbon while he took a first sip of tea.

"Well, how would you do it and not get caught?" she asked in a hushed tone, propelling herself forward again.

Before he spoke she saw something he couldn't hide in his expression that made her widen her eyes. He wasn't sure if it was shame...or guilt...or fear of her reaction but he'd been unable to hide it from her. She knew him too well by now, he mused.

"Lisbon-" he tried.

"No!" she said in a loud whisper, shaking her head. "Tell me you haven't thought about that, Jane. Tell me that thought never entered your head." She was glaring at him now, her breathing uneven. "Tell me you-"

"I can't do that," he said quietly but seriously, reaching for a hand that was gripped to her coffee mug. "Teresa, look-"

She pulled back from him and shook her head. "You selfish son of a bitch," she said as tears pricked at her eyes.

"Of course I don't want that now," he said, taking a breath. "But..." his voice trailed off as he looked out the window to his side. Softly, "But...once...of course I considered it, Teresa. He was my whole life. My only reason for getting up every day. And if he was dead...then...well, I might as well be dead too as long as I took him with me."

He chanced a half smile at her. "At least, that's what I told myself for a long time. Until I admitted to myself I had a much more appealing reason to go on."

Her anger diffused slightly, she sighed. "How could you ever think your life isn't worth living? It's a gift, Jane."

"You're not going to start some theological debate with me on suicide, are you?" he smirked in an attempt to dissipate some lingering tension between them. "Because we have other more pressing matters to discuss."

She laughed half heartedly. "But now-"

"Now I'd never consider it," he told her, reaching for her hand again. This time she allowed him and he squeezed it gently. "Okay?" he said, searching her eyes and pleading with her that she believe him. "Now I want to live. I want...you. I want...us."

She exhaled as a tear ran down her cheek. "Okay, good," she remarked with an eye roll as she calmed down. "Because it would destroy me, Jane. You need to know that."

He nodded, releasing her hand to take a mollifying long sip of tea. "I'd never do that to you now, Teresa. You have my word."

Conversation stilled as they were served their respective sandwiches until Lisbon picked it up again after swallowing a bite. "So...any thoughts on how we proceed?"

He dabbed a napkin to his lips. "Like I said, there are a thousand ways to kill him. I've thought of many of them over the years. "

"I'm sure. Do I even want to know?" she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Do you?" he replied. Her comment was made light heartedly but his response was not.

She crinkled her brow and nodded, intrigued but worried. "Yes."

He studied her for a long moment before he answered. He looked out of the window as his tone turned conversational. "First, I thought about killing him the same way he killed my wife and daughter, naturally. Gutting him like a fish. Torturing him until the last moment where he'd beg me for his life. Make him tell me he regretted killing them. I read up on it, in fact. How to inflict the maximum pain before a man dies. I thought slowly would be best for a long time. Then, neurotoxins...starvation...a confined space where he gradually runs out of air. Then, I considered what would be most painful or disturbing to him on a personal level. Of course...that would depend on what he might be afraid of...any...afflictions or neuroses he might have...though strangulation or drowning would make anyone fear for their life, I'm sure-"

"Jane," Lisbon interrupted, gaping at him. She shook her head slightly at how easy it appeared for him to discuss ways to kill a man. "Enough, I-"

"You said you wanted to know," he told her. He licked his lips and shrugged at her. "I'm sorry if you're appalled but I've considered all those methods, Teresa. And more. There probably isn't a way of killing him I haven't thought about, in fact."

"What's your point in telling me all this, though?"

"Because I need you to understand it's something I can't change my mind about."

"I haven't asked you to change your mind about it," she frowned.

"Not yet. But I can see it in your eyes, Lisbon. The bloodlust you felt when Grace was almost killed has left you now that she's on the mend again. You're thinking like a cop again. Or at least beginning to. You want justice, not vengeance. And that...well, it was much easier facing this with you when we were both singing from the same hymn sheet."

She clasped her mug and pondered his words as she drank from it. "You're right," she said finally as she set it back on the table. She looked at him half apologetically.

"Don't you think that's a tad hypocritical?" he asked her. "You were ready to kill him yourself when Grace - a good friend and colleague - was targeted." His eyes darkened with rage at the man who'd taken everything from him. "Imagine how you'd feel right now if she'd died. If...Annie had been killed today. Magnify that and you might get an idea of how I've felt for years. Of the anger I feel still." He took a long calming breath. "I love you. I...love you with all that's left of my heart but I can't let this go for you." He looked down as his eyes glistened. "And I'm sorry that's the case but...I can't change my mind on this. I want the man dead and I want to be the one to do it."

A hush came over the table until Lisbon pushed her plate away from her, her appetite lost.

"I understand if you want out of this," he said, tracing a finger along the smooth ceramic of his cup as he looked into it. He chuckled without humour. "Out of whatever the hell is going on between us, because I haven't got a clue what to call it currently," he added despondently.

"Does it have to be slow and tortuous?" she asked after a moment, making him look up at her again.

He blinked quickly as she held his gaze. "What are you saying? You'd still be willing to be with me after I kill him?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes, I would."

"You're sure?"

She swallowed and nodded again. "I can't be upset with you for telling me you still want to do what you always told you'd do when you found him. Jeez, it's one of the things you've never lied to me about. But..." She took a deep breath. "I can't watch you torture the man, Jane. That...I can't stomach something like that. So...does it have to be slow or would you be willing to just put a bullet in him when the time comes? It's the same net result. He's dead, out of your life. Out of both our lives for good."

He brought his cup up to his lips again, reading her as he took a sip. She was determined and this was as far as she'd go in agreeing with him. "Yes. If that's what it takes to make you okay with this then...yes...a bullet or some other quick means I can live with."

She let go of a breath. "Okay. Good." She shook her head. "Don't get me wrong. I'd like the bastard strung up too but...I want it done quickly for you, not him. Do you understand that?"

He nodded, smiled faintly. "I doubt I'd ever lose any sleep over how I kill him, Lisbon."

"You don't know that for sure. And, I'd rather not take the chance of either one of us finding out."

"What made you change your mind? All those years you tried to talk me out of it?"

"Because you were right. It is hypocritical of me to only want justice now because Grace is going to be okay. And I've felt that rage before that you talked about. Not to your degree but...do you remember Rebecca who murdered Bosco and his team?"

"Of course."

"I felt something similar then to what you talked about. To what I felt when Grace was attacked. I wanted to kill Rebecca that day I found her in Bosco's hospital room. I...I came close."

"But you didn't is my point. But you need to understand that...well, if you're holding out hope for any similar last minute change of mind on the matter from me-"

"I'm not," she assured him. "I saw that with Carter. I saw what you're willing to do. Even if he hadn't had a gun that day you'd have killed him anyway. Unless you're about to tell me otherwise."

He shook his head. "I'm not. And...and you're okay with that?" he said, needing reassurance of what she was saying.

"I never admonished you for killing him, did I?" she shrugged. "I was just pleased the bastard was dead when it came to it. And that you made it quick. That you didn't become the sadistic monster he is."

He thought for a moment. "Fair enough. If it's that important to you, I'll do it quickly. So, we're agreed?"

She nodded and picked at her sandwich again. "Still leaves us with the same problem of what happens after. We could stage it. Make it look like self defence."

He shook his head immediately. "Lisbon, if I'm anywhere in the vicinity of Red John's body...or...come to that, even if I'm not or could provide myself with an alibi for the time of his death, I'll be investigated for it. I've talked openly about killing the man for years. Hell, I did kill the man...or so I thought. And Blake will want retribution-"

"Okay," she said, interrupting him. They had no idea how big Blake was but Red John was a member so chances were there would be others who'd want revenge against Jane. Even if Jane somehow could be dissuaded from killing the man himself, his followers would more than likely assume it was him anyway. "Well, what's your solution, then?"

"Only one I can think of – after...we run."

Her eyes widened though the same thought had occurred to her too. "We just run?" she clarified.

He nodded. "I kill him. We find someone in the FBI we can trust, we tell them about Blake. And...we run."

"Where to?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Somewhere they can't extradite us from. South America, somewhere like that, I guess."

"And what would we do there?"

He smiled softly at her and reached for her hand across the table. "We'd live, Teresa. Away from...murder and dead bodies...we'd just...live a quiet and normal life."

"Quiet and normal?" she said, the words frightening her instantly. "Sounds...boring."

He laughed and raised his eyebrows. "I'll make sure you're not bored. And it sounds peaceful to me. Restful. Don't you want that? Some quiet after all this...noise for so long?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "I don't know. Maybe for a while it'd be nice but I'm used to the noise. And what would we do there? We can't just sit on a beach all day for the rest of our lives, Jane."

"Why not? But we could travel a little-"

"I don't know," she said with more conviction. "It's...it's a big change to consider."

"I understand that," he said gently. "And I know you have your family to think about. It'd likely be a long time before it would be safe to see them again and you'd have to sneak into the country to do it. Or pay for them to visit us. If you don't want that, then there's only one other solution. I do what I need to do, I confess to it and go to prison for it."

"No!"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Well, then you tell me what the solution is, Lisbon, because I'm all out of ideas. You don't want to run but you don't want me to go to prison either. It's one or the other as I see it if you want us to be together."

"You going to prison isn't us being together, Jane. We'll think of something else. Something that means we don't have to upend our entire lives because of that son of a bitch."

"You really think that's going to happen? How?"

"I don't know but it has to happen," she said with determination, "so we'll have to make sure it does."

The sound of her cell phone stopped their conversation. She glanced at it and said to Jane, "It's Walter."

"That was quick," he said with a frown. "I'm not sure if that bodes well or not because his answer will ultimately decide if the conversation we've just had was extremely premature."

She pressed the green answer button on her phone. "Hi, Walter."