It was definitely time to call Cho. Teresa needed to know if it was FBI agents, or someone else keeping constant eyes on her front door from the curb.
But Kimball beat her to the punch: Before she could flip her phone open, the device began buzzing. Surprised, she dropped the thing onto her lap before smiling at the familiar number on the screen.
"Virgil? Is that you?" She asked with tentative expectation.
"Yep, it's me, May."
She sighed with relief. "Excellent timing, Cho. I was just about to call you myself."
"Yeah? What about? Rigs mentioned some bikers?"
"Ha! Yes…" She growled with annoyance, "all riding dark colored sedans. So, you talked to Wayne? Is that why you called?"
"Not exactly."
"Okay then, what's up?"
"I overheard something I don't think they realize I overheard."
"They?"
"Abbott's team." Cho went into as many details as he knew, regarding Abbott's FBI team and their apparent plan to trick Jane into leaving the tropical island they were 'reasonably sure' he was hiding out on. The plan was to tell him some story about Red John minions and the Blake Association attempting to find and kill Lisbon, tricking him into flying home at once to help. The man had reportedly told Teresa he was 'always gonna save her,' after all. And Dennis had always thought there was more to Jane and Lisbon's partnership than they'd been willing to admit.
Plus, after the Red John disaster, Abbott needed a win. Snagging one of the FBI's top ten would be an excellent score. With the years of premeditation involved, the death penalty was a strong possibility too. Ridding the world of an alleged cop killer would be a great notch in his belt, Dennis thought. He'd heard the rumors that Thomas McAllister was suspected of having been Red John, but hadn't Jane already killed another man, claiming the same? Abbott thought it was more likely the man simply had it out for authority figures and was carrying out his own vigilante justice, willy-nilly. The FBI would be doing the world a favor by having him extradited.
After Cho finished sharing the details he'd overheard, Lisbon was livid at the callousness of their 'brethren in arms' at the FBI. But, she resolved, if Dennis Abbott wanted to play dirty, then she could dish out some dirt, too.
"Well, this is NOT going down if I can help it."
"I thought you might say that… May…" Cho broke from his typically businesslike tone long enough to tease Lisbon just a bit about the code names.
"Very funny Kimball," she rolled her eyes with an amused smirk. "So, what are we gonna do about this?"
"For now, more reconnaissance," Cho stated. "The bad news is that I came in halfway through the conversation Abbott's team was having. The good news is that they didn't realize that I heard them. That means they've no idea how freely the sound from Dennis' office travels through the air intake vent that connects his desk side wall to the utility room. That further means that I can safely hope to learn more in the coming days. They're still in the developmental stages of this operation, but Abbott is really goal-oriented about Jane, so I expect they'll move fast. It's imperative that we keep up to speed so that we can adequately provide any needed countermeasures."
"Got it." Lisbon's eyebrows were pushing together with intense focus and concentration. "I may be able to help a bit from here, too."
"How's that?"
"This is top secret information, Kimball - not even Rigsbys know about it."
"Understood. Lips are sealed."
"I got a message from Jane, and there will be more in the foreseeable future. He doesn't feel comfortable sharing his location so I haven't been able to communicate back to him, but he is in contact with some mutual friends. I may be able to press them for hints or details."
"The carnies?"
Lisbon's eyes shot open. How could Cho have guessed that right away? "Actually yes. How'd you know?"
Abbott's people noticed them leaving your apartment a few days ago. They had them followed for a couple days after, but were frustrated when they never met up with you a second time."
Teresa was sick at the confirmation that Pete and Sam had actually been followed by FBI agents on the day they'd gone to plan B in delivering her message from Jane. But her heart leapt when Cho admitted the feds had backed off, and that they had apparently not caught on about the whole fair gag. "I see," was the only response Lisbon could manage.
"So, what's the plan?"
"Working on that. Let me reach out to the carnies and I'll be in touch by tomorrow. If you don't hear from me then check in with Rigsbys and bring them up to speed."
"Actually, Boss, I should bring them in anyway. No doubt we'll need some digital support."
"You're right, thanks Cho."
"Gotta go - someone's coming."
The phone clicked before Lisbon could say goodbye, or 'good work, Kimball,' or that she would move quickly but stealthily to milk some details from Pete and Sam.
In the morning, Lisbon was back at the fair, visiting the animal tent to feed Daisy. While handing apples to her big-eared friend, she called Barsockys' burner cell.
"Jack's Apothecary!" Sam answered cheerily.
"Hi Sam, it's Little Pepper!" Teresa had gotten a kick out of Samantha's reaction when she'd suggested the two code names, and wasn't surprised in the least when she heard raucous belly-laughter on the other end of the line now.
"So how can we help ya?" Pete broke in, allowing his wife to catch her breath.
"Daisy says hi, and that we need to chat."
"Be right there."
True to his word, Pete burst through the tent flap nearest Daisy's stall within minutes. Sam followed close behind, still wiping the laughter from her eyes as she walked.
"Listen, I know he wants to stay 'missing,' but there's been a development and he's in real danger. I can't reveal too many details, but let's just say some enemies of his have guessed where he might be and are planning to use a fabricated threat to my safety or some such thing as a trick to get him stateside. Those enemies reportedly would be happy to see him convicted and possibly executed. I'm begging you both - what can you tell me? I and my team need to protect him from these guys. There's no telling what they might do once they find him - I'm not even sure they care he gets back alive for trial." Teresa spoke emphatically, and the Barsocky's expressions showed that they understood the seriousness of the situation.
"We were afraid of something like this when we had the tail that day." Sam admitted. "We brought it up with Patrick and he insisted that we were not to reveal his location to you - or anyone - no matter what."
"Damn it, Jane!" Teresa barked under her breath before grumbling to Samantha: "He's just being stubborn!"
"Actually, he's just trying to protect you, Teresa." Pete smiled, "his last communication to us predicted this very conversation, and he was adamant that you not put your career or your life on the line for him any longer. He feels that he's done enough derailing and endangering you over the years."
"Well, that's not his decision, Pete! I'm not his responsibility, I'm his partner!" Lisbon fumed in frustration.
"You're right, Teresa," Sam smiled, reaching to squeeze one of Lisbon's hands between her own. "That's why Pete and I told him to stuff it!" The Barsockys laughed heartily at that, then slipped away without another word.
"But-" Lisbon started to call out, then stopped short when a tour group entered the animal tent. Frustrated at having gotten exactly zero information about Jane's hiding place, she gave Daisy a pat, and took one last look into the giant eyes that seemed to understand and empathize. "Thanks Daisy." She smiled.
It wasn't until Teresa went to wash her hands at a nearby restroom, after petting the elephant, that she noticed it: There was a series of numbers on the back of her right hand that hadn't been there before. Two rows of numbers, in seemingly unrelated formats. She thought back, remembering how Sam had squeezed that hand so tightly between her own. At the time Lisbon had felt a little awkward, thinking the squeeze had lasted a bit longer than what was comfortable. She had also wondered why Sam's top hand had felt so boney? Maybe she had a rubber stamp on me or something? Teresa pondered. At any rate, she washed her hands more carefully than ever, successfully avoiding the inked digits on the back of her right one. As she was cautiously patting them dry, her burner phone started buzzing.
"Virgil?" She answered using the familiar code., in case Cho's phone had been compromised.
"May! I have new information. Things are moving quickly. We need to talk."
"Ok hang on!" With haste, Lisbon speed-walked the distance to her car and locked the doors. "Okay Cho, whaddaya got?"
"They plan to send an advance agent to the location they've found. If he's there, they hope to make first contact within the next two days."
"Two days?! I'm not even home from the fair yet!"
"I know. Abbott's really motivated."
Lisbon looked at her recently-inked hand. "I may have something. Let me get home and make another call, then I'll call you back. One, maybe two hours."
"Got it Boss, Bye."
"Bye Virg!"
Driving a speed Jane would've called 'just fast enough,' Teresa successfully navigated the Sacramento streets, passing the dark FBI surveillance sedan at her curb, right before sunset. She had a quick look around her apartment, still carrying a healthy dose of paranoia, but found nothing suspicious.
Drawing the curtains, like she did every night at this time, she sat at her kitchen table to think. Concerned about the way some of the numbers were starting to blur in the sweat of her hand, she quickly grabbed her dry erase board and a novelty spy camera her brothers had gotten her as a gag last Christmas. With great difficulty, she snapped a few digital pics of the numbers on her dominant hand, hoping that at least one of her left-handed attempts might be in focus. Then, she began copying each row of numbers on the white board tablet, keeping the formatting as close as possible to the ink on her skin.
She stared at the board for a few minutes. "Top row has nine digits, a space, then six more…" she thought out loud, "not a phone number then…" As she continued to ponder that number series, as well as the one below it, that sported an ample share of decimal points mixed in with the numbers, Teresa reasoned that she needed some help. She grabbed the burner and hit a preset number.
"Virgil here!" Rigsby chimed cheerily.
"Good to hear your voice, Virgil! This is May!"
"Great, Boss, what's up!"
She filled Wayne and Grace in on the mystery numbers she'd been secretly given by the Barsockys.
After a few minutes of discussion and a few more of incognito internet searching by Grace, Lisbon and the Rigsbys figured the most likely uses for such numbers.
"So, the set of nine followed by the set of six matches a common bank account format," Grace began.
"Can we trace which bank? Or who the owner is on the account?" Teresa wondered.
"Doing that now, Boss."
"Grace, I'm not your-"
"Oh my gosh!" Wayne interrupted, apparently surprised by what Grace had found.
Lisbon caught her breath… Often, a shocked "Oh my gosh" was a bad thing. Surprises were not exactly what she was looking for right now - not with what was being held in the balance. "Rigs? What's the 'oh my gosh' about?"
"Lisbon," Grace answered, "this bank account is listed in the name of Danny Ruskin."
"No!"
"Yes. And the other thing is…"
Great, there's more?! Teresa sat down and held her breath.
"Boss, there is a LOT of money in the account."
"Okay." Lisbon exhaled. This particular 'other thing' seemed less problematic than the dozen nightmare scenarios she'd imagined in the split second it had taken Van Pelt to finish her sentence. "So, any ideas about the other row of numbers? The decimals are throwing me off."
"Yeah Boss, us too," Wayne admitted. But something came up on Grace's search here… stand by."
"Standing by!" Teresa replied with fabricated cheer. She truly appreciated the help, and it was extremely valuable to have two other capable humans to bounce ideas off of. Still, her typical levels of impatience were amped up even more, at the thought of her partner being in mortal danger, and she was having an especially hard time with waiting even a reasonable amount of time for these answers.
"Got it!" Grace shouted triumphantly, "they're map coordinates!
Lisbon turned ghost white with shock. Had Sam actually stamped his exact location on her hand?! My God, that was insanely fast! And they didn't even hint about it they just inked her and left! She saw clearly, in that moment, why her beloved partner put so much trust in the Barsockys.
"Boss?" Wayne's concerned voice crackled in her ear.
"Oh! Sorry Rigsby, just thinking. So, I should maybe type the numbers into a driving app or something?"
"You could!" Grace confirmed. "I would use an incognito browser though, and maybe search from somewhere other than any of your usual networks. Just to be extra safe."
"That is a great point Grace, I'll find a new location then do the search. Thank you - both of you! This has been extremely enlightening and I couldn't have done it without you!"
"Our pleasure Boss! Please let us know what else we can do!"
"I will - I promise!"
Teresa's feet were moving before the phone clicked shut. She was desperate to know where the map numbers would point, and she was equally desperate to find out why Danny Ruskin had a bank account full of cash. Once she checked that her go bag still had all the essentials packed inside, she marched to her car. "I bet I can kill two birds with one stone tonight," she mumbled to herself as she backed out of the driveway. She turned the headlights on precisely when the front of her car was angled toward the FBI spy parked on the street. "Lemme help shed some light on my activities, you parasite!" Lisbon muttered with satisfaction.
Nearly an hour later, confident that no FBI sedans were following her, Teresa pulled into the parking lot of the Sacramento River Region Federal Bank. She wouldn't be able to question anyone at the bank about Danny's account until morning, but she figured she could at least search those map coordinates from the parking lot. For added security, she opened a brand-new disposable phone just for this search. Nervous and excited about possibly being so close to knowing where Jane was, she quickly glanced all around before opening the phone and typing in the long sequence of digits and decimals. "Okay, one… two… dot… four…"
TAP TAP TAP TAP!
Lisbon jumped, dropping the phone. someone was outside the driver's side window, tapping right beside her left ear. Alarmed, she looked through the glass beside her. There, inches from her door, barely made recognizable by the residual glow from security floodlights near the bank entrance, was Danny Ruskin himself. He grinned and raised his eyebrows, waving and apologizing for the scare.
After rolling her eyes at the ridiculous situation and Danny's awkward waving, she shouted through the closed window, "Get in!"
Danny ran around to the passenger side, and wiggled the handle until Teresa unlocked it. He opened the door and climbed in quickly, as annoyed as Lisbon was about the dome light shining brightly as he did so.
Teresa hurried to find the 'off' switch, dousing the light as quickly as possible.
For a moment, the two sat in the dark, working to slow their heart rates after such a jumpy few seconds, and straining their eyes in the renewed darkness to determine if they had aroused any suspicions outside the car. After their eyes had adjusted, and they were reasonably sure they hadn't been seen, the first question was uttered:
"Danny what are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you, obviously. I mean, I can't very well get any of my banking done after dark, can I?"
Danny sounded so much like Jane in that moment, he could've been his biological brother, rather than a brother-in-law, Lisbon thought. "Fair enough. Why were you waiting for me then?"
"Well, you are the irreplaceable Agent Teresa Lisbon, are you not? I have it on good authority that you're a tough cookie, and also sharp as a tack. I had no doubt that you would break the code Sam impressed upon you very quickly, and that you would have some questions. So, I camped out in the Chevron parking lot next door 'til I saw you pull in over here."
"Very clever!" she had to admit to being amused by the conversation. "So, what's the significance of this bank? Why do I have your account number?" in a quieter voice she added: "and why is there a king's ransom in there?"
"Okay, here's the deal. The account is in my name, but the money's not mine."
"Don't tell me it's stolen!" Teresa was going to lose it, if that was true.
"I won't tell you it's stolen, because it's NOT." He paused for effect, and to make sure she believed him. "The money is Patrick's."
Her eyes got wide. "How did HE get his hands on that kind of money?!"
Danny set his jaw, clearly upset about what he had to say next: "It's what was left over from his psychic business when…"
Lisbon was mortified that she'd made this poor man explain something that was probably a heartbreaking memory for him – and for Jane, for that matter. "Say no more, Danny. I'm sorry I made you go there," she said with sincerity. "But what does that money have to do with him now? And what does it have to do with me?"
Danny took a deep breath to steady himself after having been a bit rattled by the previous question. "Patrick came to me just before he ran. He told me he'd set up this account for me. That he'd never spent it because it didn't feel right after what his old self had done. But he wanted me to have whatever I needed, and he also was adamant that the money be used to care for you if you ever needed it, too. Barsockys and I agreed that this situation is fair game, in line with Paddy's wishes. He probably wouldn't approve its use for his own rescue mission, but screw that – he's just gonna have to deal with that reality once he's back here and I can punch some sense into him." Danny chuckled and Lisbon joined with some laughter of her own.
"Be sure to give me a couple swings, too, would ya?"
"Count on it!"
The two laughed and talked amiably for another few minutes, before parting with the understanding that Lisbon had equal access to the account, and was to take whatever was necessary in her team's efforts to save Jane.
Once Teresa was safely back home, she realized that she'd completely forgotten to finish her map coordinates search! Smacking one palm to her forehead, she also remembered, with a jolt, that she hadn't even read Jane's last message after Sam had given it to her in the fake apothecary. "Where the hell'd I put that envelope?!" she grumbled, furious with herself for allowing the FBI's curbside spies to distract her from what was most important last night.
After a panicked few minutes, her still-stamped hand found the envelope, safely inside her purse – right where she'd put it the day before. She was too warm for a fire tonight, but was glad to unwind with a glass of wine as she opened the envelope with great care and affection:
"Dear Lisbon,
You wouldn't believe the dolphins I saw off the coast this morning! I couldn't take my eyes off of them - so beautiful! But not nearly as beautiful as the image I saw in my mind as I followed their synchronized swimming routines. I imagined your sweet face right beside me, looking out at the dolphin pod with that same look of wonder you had on the day you found a pony in your office. I imagined your adorable cheeks turned up in delight. Your sage pools of green softly intermingling with reflections from the sea. I daydreamed of a future day when you and I would be allowed to share these moments together. Alas, that time seems far off, as things stand right now.
On a happier note, though, I'm heartened to hear that you received my first message, and that you are on good terms with our mutual friends. Please rely on them for any necessary communication in my direction, as opposed to trying to find me on your own. I know that things are getting interesting - Pete said they'd had some interference recently - and I know you, Teresa. I know your compulsion to protect my sorry self when I get into trouble. As much as I love you for that, I must insist that you trust that I've got things covered. Between my network of lifelong friends there, and my new network of trusted friends here, I can handle anything that occurs. My greater concern is that you remain safe. And yes, I know that you're a cop and it's your job to put yourself in front of danger, but please, Lisbon. Please don't allow any individuals or entities to use that job - or you - on my behalf, dear. I have damaged your career and your life enough already. My heart couldn't stand knowing I'd done more damage still. Please trust that everything is under control, and that I will not rest until I see you again, unencumbered and free.
Love, Jane.
PS: tell Jack that he can just give the $50 to you and we'll call it even."
Teresa didn't know whether to laugh at the comment about Jack's fifty bucks or cry about the fact that Jane had actually written out the words "I love you" - no matter the somewhat casual context of that phrase in the note. In the end she did both. Over and over again. Laughing and crying in succession and also simultaneously, until her sides hurt and her eyes had run dry.
Her heart was wrung out, but still throbbed with the realization that, while she was worrying about Jane's care for her, being used as a weapon against him, he was concerned about the same, but vice versa. Despite all the aggravation he'd put her through over the years… despite all the trust issues… despite everything, it was so clear now, how close they had really always been; so clear how much they had truly always meant to one another. Each, willing to sacrifice a little, or a lot, of themselves to protect the other.
She began reciting a scripture to herself from the book of Corinthians - one they had highlighted at mass recently: "love does not demand its own way, it is not irritable and it keeps no record of being wronged…" the lump in her throat grew. If only Jane could believe that part. "It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out…" Father, let all of us see the truth as we move forward to save Jane, and protect him against the lies his enemies want to use against him. "Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful and endures through every circumstance." Dear God, please help me to embody that last part. I do so love that idiot. Please help me to stay hopeful. And please keep that beautiful man safe.