Meghan and Brendan were full of endorphins from their time with their LA friends. They agreed that it had been months since they'd smiled so much or laughed so hard. They were still chuckling and recalling fun stories as they descended the stairs to the kitchen for a snack.
"So, this FBI situation must be serious, if Mom and Dad are still there after all this time." Meghan said, thoughtfully.
"I was thinking the same thing, Meg. But it must not be too bad if they haven't called. One of them always clues us in if there's real danger, or if they have to pull an all-nighter."
"Yeah, you're right, little brother. That makes me feel a little better. I only wish I knew what Uncle Danny's phone call was about."
"Yeah, I hear that." Brendan agreed.
The two got bowls and spoons out, preparing for some build it yourself sundaes before bed.
"Mmmm, chocolate ripple!" Meghan smiled with anticipation.
"All good! That means more of this mocha chip for me!" Brendan glowered.
"You're eating mocha ice cream right before bed?!" Meghan had made that decision before, and hadn't gotten to sleep that night at all, on account of the caffeine.
"Meh - it doesn't seem to affect me that much. Plus, I have some homework I've been putting off anyway, so a late night won't hurt."
"Your call, little bro." Meghan gave him a look that said she felt he'd probably regret his decision, but left him to his ice cream, as she carried a bowl to her room upstairs.
Meghan saw something on her way to the stairs that froze her in her tracks. "Brendan?"
"Yeah?" Her brother called from the kitchen.
"Can you come here real quick?"
"Okay - hang on."
The younger Jane put his bowl in the freezer temporarily before jogging out to Meghan at the base of the stairs.
"What is it, Sis?"
Meghan lowered her voice. "We locked the door behind Uncle Danny, right?"
Brendan followed suit, whispering his reply, "yes. I'm sure of it."
He turned his gaze to match Meghan's point of focus. She was right. The front door was not only unlocked now, but it wasn't fully closed, either.
Their parents had been complaining about that front door for weeks, and about how it never closed properly without extra care. A new one was scheduled to be installed, but supply chain delays from a typhoon on the other side of the world had delayed things. All four Janes living in that house knew the exact sequence of pushes, pulls, wiggles and bumps needed to properly secure the door. But now it was partially open. And they were the only ones home, right?
"What do you think it means?" Brendan whispered even more quietly than before.
Meghan caught a glimpse of a passing shadow out of the corner of her eye. She suddenly leaned closer to Brendan, and held on to his arm. "I don't know, but we're not alone," she whispered, her face close to his ear, her eyes focusing on the back hallway, where the living room connected to their parents' office.
Brendan's eyes got wide. "What should we do?"
"Text Mom and Dad that we think there's an intruder." Meghan instructed, in a nearly indiscernible voice. "I'm going to see what I can see, on the far side of the Livingroom."
"No! Meg, we should wait for Mom and Dad!" The boy whispered emphatically. But his sister was already tiptoeing silently across the carpeted floor, trying not to breathe, listening intently, and staying hyper-alert.
Brendan was a little nauseated by his fears for her - and for himself. His reflexes were wound so tightly that the vibration from his parents' text reply to his phone caused him to jump - nearly dropping the device to the tile floor of the entryway. A phone hitting the floor - that would be really helpful, he thought, sarcastically, rolling his eyes and silently chastising himself for nearly breaking Meghan's cover with such a noise.
When he recovered enough to remember to look, he was relieved at his father's text reply: "Already halfway home. Bringing plenty of backup. Shelter in place til we get there."
"I'm at front entry. Meg snuck back to office. Thought she saw movement back there."
When there was no immediate reply, Brendan imagined what must be going through his father's head. The boy said some silent prayers for his dad's sanity and for his and his sister's safety.
Meanwhile, Meghan was almost to the office. She definitely heard something from inside that room. Lots of papers rustling. A series of muted thumps that sounded like drawers opening and closing. Then it got quiet. Too quiet, she thought. So, she pressed an ear to the door, without a sound, and held her breath for a few seconds in order to hear better. She couldn't place the new sound she was hearing as she leaned into the door. It sounded almost like… was it crying? Wearing a look of empathy and concern, she painstakingly separated herself from the door and began tiptoeing back to Brendan.
With visible relief, her brother reached out for a quick hug. "See anything?" He asked in a hushed tone.
"Sounds like they were digging through papers and maybe looking through desk drawers too. But then - get this - they got really quiet, then seemed to be crying!" Meghan shared, with as much incredulity as she could muster through a low whisper.
"Weird." Brendan agreed, as he sent a quick text update to their parents. He started with the part where Meghan was safely back with him near the entry - he knew they would find that fact most important. Then he followed up with what Meg had told him about the noises from the office.
It was not long before the sound of tires on the driveway crackled through the partially-open entry. Lisbon and Cho prowled cautiously through the unlatched door with Jane keeping cover, right behind.
Brendan pocketed his phone, and both siblings gave a quick group hug of relieved gratitude to all three adults.
"Are they still here?" Jane whispered.
"Yes" Meg nodded.
"The office?" Lisbon murmured.
Brendan gave a decisive nod, in reply.
Cho and Lisbon moved stealthily toward the back hallway, guns drawn. Jane latched the troublesome door and remained in the entryway, one arm sturdily wrapped around each of his beloved children.
"So, you thought they were looking through the desk and the papers? And you thought you heard crying later?" Jane's voice was low, as he pressed close to Meghan's left temple, ending with a fatherly kiss of gratitude for her safety.
"That's right. I got the sense that they were as scared as I was - though I don't think they sensed that I was right outside the office door or anything."
"Interesting…" The gears in Patrick's mind were turning, mixing this newly-confirmed information in with his existing suppositions, based on what had been shared in the bullpen that night.
Sean Barlow had the skills to break and enter into the house no doubt. But no way that cold bastard would break out in tears. And a clandestine burglary wasn't his style. He'd be more likely to knock loudly on the front door, trusting his own manipulative powers to gain entry while filling the occupants with fear and threats.
As Patrick silently pondered, and calmed the nerves of his beloved teens, Cho and Lisbon were holding steady, poised to enter the Jane family office.
After taking a moment to strain their ears for any sound emanating from within, Lisbon silently turned to Cho. Once they'd made eye contact, Teresa signaled with one hand, then nodded sharply, launching their quick surge into the room.
"FBI! Identify yourself!" Lisbon shouted with authority.
There was no response, but it was clear from the mess that someone had been rummaging extensively through the contents of the space.
"Lisbon, look." Cho gestured to a freestanding cabinet at the far corner of the room.
Not only was it the lone piece of furniture not left open from the intruder's frantic search for who-knows-what, but a long white shoelace was dangling, between the closed door and the base of the onyx cabinet… its length pooling on the floor outside like a loosely-wound snail shell.
Lisbon carefully advanced on the cabinet, gun still locked into position before her. Then, she slowly moved one hand to the knob of the cabinet door. She looked at Cho for a nod of readiness, then swiftly opened the panel in one lightning-quick motion, aiming her weapon at the suspected burglar inside. She was not expecting the sight that met her eyes, when she did.
"My name is Agent Lisbon. Wanna explain what's going on here?" Lisbon asked, somewhat gently, keeping her gun aimed as a precaution against any misreading of the situation.
Seeing no additional threats, Cho lowered his weapon and walked quickly to Teresa's position at the cabinet. "What the hell?" He muttered with confusion, shaking his head, and lowering his eyebrows.
With fear and hesitation, the subject, balled up on the cabinet floor, looked up at Lisbon and Cho. "I'm so sorry," the interloper sniffled, using a hoodie sleeve to do some quick nose-wiping. "But I need to find it!" The trespasser burst into disconsolate sobs, continuing to beg for forgiveness. "He can't find out I'm here!"
Lisbon holstered her gun, and tentatively put a hand on the shoulder of the uninvited guest. "Come on. Let's get you out of there."
Cho helped to steady them, as he and Lisbon extricated and escorted the pilferer to the living room for more questioning.
Patrick was surprised when he saw the two FBI agents escorting a seemingly harmless young woman who looked to be not much older than Meghan. They guided the girl to the sofa and had her sit on the center cushion. Cho and Lisbon took their places on either side. Jane pulled his arms from around the shoulders of his children and relaxed them to his sides as he walked slowly to the front of the living room couch. He stood for a moment, observing, and deducing the sight before him.
Dark locks of hair flowed from beneath the navy hood the woman wore. Her other clothes were equally casual, with a side of hard-luck and learned toughness. The blue eyes peeking out at Patrick from between wispy chestnut bangs, wore a mix of exhaustion and desperation that caught Jane right in the heart for a fleeting second. He abruptly broke eye contact, averting his gaze to the floor at the woman's feet, noting the dirt-covered shoes with too-long laces - clearly meant for boots. After completing his silent assessment, Jane extended his right hand.
"Pleased to meet you, Caitlyn. Welcome to our home. How can we help?"
"Caitlyn Turner?!" Lisbon turned sideways to face the woman, wearing a half-smile of surprise. Teresa saw the resemblance to Roddy Turner more clearly, once Caitlyn brushed the knit hood back from her face, and reached to accept Jane's handshake welcome.
"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry for making a mess of your house," the girl sniffled. "Didn't even find what I was looking for." Caitlyn's eyes dropped to the floor in dejection and shame.
"Let's not worry about that right now." Lisbon said, in her most open and friendly tone. "How about we start with what brought you here?"
"And whether you've really been held captive by Sean Barlow all this time." Cho added, with a hint of skepticism.
"He can't know I'm here!" Turner sputtered with a start, immediately becoming agitated.
"He won't." Jane quickly promised with a smile. He knelt in front of the couch, to allow direct eye contact with the frightened woman. "My name is Patrick. This is my house, and Agent Lisbon here is my wife. The entire property is currently surrounded by FBI agents who are friends of mine. No one knows you are here, and no harm will come to you tonight, my dear."
Caitlyn slowly regained herself as he spoke. "So, you're Patrick Jane?" She turned to Lisbon. "And you're Teresa Lisbon?"
"That's correct." Lisbon assured with an amused smile to Jane. "Apparently we're famous!"
Jane let go a chuckle. "Yeah, apparently."
"I have been hearing your names ever since I can remember," the woman sat amazed, with starry eyes that made Lisbon somewhat uncomfortable, thereby delighting Jane. "My Uncle Pete, and Aunt Samantha used to tuck me in at night with the story of how you both helped to save me when I was a baby. I've always hoped we would meet someday so I could thank you."
Jane had never been comfortable accepting thanks from victims, and that hadn't changed. Teresa enjoyed some retaliatory delight at seeing her husband squirm under the praise Caitlyn was throwing his way.
"It was our pleasure, Caitlyn. The Barsockys are dear friends - they and Patrick go back decades!" Lisbon answered graciously.
"They said you knew my mom?" The young Miss Turner became instantly tearful as she heard the words coming from her own mouth. She had always been intensely curious about the mother she'd never had the chance to know.
Jane reached out and held one of her hands. "Yes I did. When she was a child - not much older than you were when we first met you."
"Oh." The girl couldn't hide her disappointment. She had hoped that Patrick might have stories to tell that would shed more light on who her mother had been.
"I bet Sam and Pete have filled in some of the blanks? And surely your dad has shared stories with you?" Lisbon wondered.
"Of course. Some. But Dad didn't know her when she was little, and talking about her still hurts his heart. He loved her so very much - still does, in fact. He's never gotten over it, I don't think."
Jane was silent.
Lisbon recognized the distantly familiar look of self-loathing that lingered in place of the lighthearted smile just seen on her husband's gorgeous face only moments ago, when he had remembered Lee Lee as a child. She quickly changed the subject in hopes of snapping him out of the guilt she knew he was feeling about Eileen's murder at the hands of a monster, in retaliation for his own vengeful efforts.
"Speaking of your father, he's been worried sick about you. He's actually here right now!" Teresa shared with an encouraging nudge.
On cue, Tommy and Annie came through the front door, accompanying the gruff Irishman inside. Once Roddy saw his missing daughter, though, there was no restraining the man.
"Caitie!" He shouted, careening toward the couch with no regard for who or what might be in his way.
"Daddy!" The younger Turner sprung from her seat, jumping into her father's arms, both father and daughter shedding tears of relief.
The reunion scene softened every steely law enforcement face in the room - FBI and bounty hunter, alike. As Cho maintained calm control of the place, Meghan and Brendan walked over to their parents, both of whom were glowing at the turn of events.
"Wow. You guys really rescued her once?" Meghan was completely in awe of her parents in that moment. It had been many years since she'd thought of them as heroes - as all young children regard their own parents, but that belief had been renewed with emphasis tonight. Not just at hearing Caitlyn talk about the past, but at watching her mom and dad expertly traverse the current situation while keeping their wits and staying sober to what the truth was. "I wonder what it is that she was looking for in there? It seems to be really important?" Meghan mused, looking at Jane.
"I don't know," Jane said, "but I plan to find out."
"I may be able to help with that!" A smarmy voice blurted, alarming the relaxed atmosphere with its hasty entrance through the Janes' front door.