Nearly a week after Ronnie was abducted by the recently-incarcerated Kyle Johnson, the team got called out to the California-Nevada state line where a severed hand was found on the interstate highway, right on the dividing line. The call to the CBI had been received with unbelieving stares followed by a macabre display of enthusiasm to pack up and see the mangled appendage for themselves.
Rigsby and Jane were more excited than anybody, with Cho as a runner-up; taking the lead in the utterly disgusted category was Van Pelt, and Lisbon still held the undefeated champion title of Annoyed With Jane Enabling Rigsby.
Ronnie was not only indifferent to the issue, but also disturbingly okay with it. When Lisbon said, 'chopped hand on the freeway,' Ronnie said, 'then I guess now would be an awesome time to mention that I brought finger foods for lunch.' It wasn't often that she interacted boldly in front of the entire team, preferring instead to remain largely unnoticed, but when she did it was always unsettling and concerning.
Rigsby in particular always responded to her grisly remarks with a disturbed sideways glance and an awkward shuffling of his feet.
Jane subsequently made a comment about Ronnie's apparent experience with dismembered appendages, to which she made no comment. Explaining herself was not included in her list of special skills.
She had been waiting for Rigsby to ask questions for the whole ride to the scene, and as of yet, he never did.
State troopers and cops surrounded the area of the hand when the CBI team arrived. Ronnie all but fell out of the car, buttoning in black dress shirt over her t-shirt and rolling up the sleeves. She tucked the ends into her waistband and tucked her badge into her pocket. She wasn't all that jazzed about huddling over a chunk of someone's arm which probably smelled like roadkill and was probably sticking to the asphalt.
Lisbon split off to speak to the officers in charge while the others approached the sun-cracked hand inquisitively.
"That damn GPS is gonna put us in California," Cho grumbled as he approached. Evidently he had no desire to be personally in charge of tracking down the owner of a hand. She didn't blame him—she knew for a fact how hard it was to follow the trail of properly discarded body parts.
Ronnie sipped at an energy drink, dropping down on one knee to further inspect the ugly hunk of flesh. She identified the laceration markings as the result of a handsaw—too clean to have been broken and ripped off in an accident, and just uneven enough to rule out something dramatic like a sword or an axe.
"Think positive," Rigsby urged in agreement. "It's Nevada. Definitely Nevada."
Ronnie took a mental note of the number 43 scrawled in blocky, lined script on the palm and got back to her feet, waiting to see what Jane would say about it. His brain worked better in the blistering heat than hers did.
"You're dreaming," Cho crossed his arms pessimistically, "We won't catch it. Stone cold mystery."
Van Pelt said something about running the fingerprints, but Ronnie was too busy watching Jane circle the hand to pay much attention. She wasn't sure she liked the look of childish amusement on his face.
She glanced over at Cho to see if he made anything of the scene and paused suddenly when she noticed that he looked particularly good for some reason. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary—his short-sleeve button down, dark tie, and business pants were all normal. Maybe it was the way the sunlight glowed in his skin, but Ronnie felt struck indescribably by his presence. She couldn't put her finger on it.
"Why all the gloom?" Jane was asking. "A case is a case."
Rigsby looked significantly less enthused than he had when he first heard about the appendage. "We are in the middle of nowhere, windy as all hell, I haven't, eaten anything,"
Before he could go on, Ronnie turned to him and held out a half-melted candy bar. "Butterfinger?"
Cho snorted a laugh behind her and Rigsby looked disgusted. However, never one to pass up a chance to eat, Rigsby took the candy and struggled to unwrap it.
Smiling softly at the exchange, Jane gestured to the ground. "There's already plenty to work with, right here."
Van Pelt looked more confused and nauseas than ever. "It's a right hand with the number 43 on it."
Suddenly eager to exercise his deductive skills to impress his crush, Rigsby knelt down to get a closer look. "It's a male hand. Or, at least, a not-very femme female. Hey, Masters, lemme see your hand."
Ronnie obliged immediately by slapping him upside the head.
Chuckling at his own joke, Rigsby looked back up to Jane. "What else do we get to work with here? There's not much for analysis."
Ronnie went to stand next to Cho, crossing her arms while still managing to hold her energy drink. He glanced at her briefly, indulging in a new habit he had of personally checking on her at least a hundred times every hour. He didn't seem to believe her when she told him that being kidnapped had been a fluke thing.
"Stop looking at me," She muttered.
"I'm not looking at you." He said flatly, definitely averting his gaze from her profile.
"Yeah. And I'm a hundred-and-twenty-pound pole dancer." She scoffed.
The next look she got from him was of revulsion.
"Let's see," Jane started smartly. "It's probably a white man, mid-fifties. He wrote on his right hand, so he's a lefty."
"Convenient, since he's now without a right hand." Ronnie commented.
"Maybe the killer wrote some kind of message." Cho argued.
The CBI consultant shook his head. "Too faded, and a killer would write it bigger."
Ronnie nodded agreeably. "Yeah; one time there was this guy—one of my mom's messages to border control. She wrote 'PIG' on him in giant lettering. Go big or go home."
The three agents and the consultant stared at her like they didn't know how to react. Rigsby shifted his feet.
"Did you file a statement concerning that particular case?" Cho wondered.
"No," Ronnie mumbled meekly.
"Maybe do that." He suggested blankly.
Jane shrugged the interruption off. "Smells of almond oil moisturizer, mastic cologne and tobacco. Palms are supple, nails are professionally maintained—so, a rich man. There's a faded tan line on the little finger, so we are missing a pinkie ring, which suggests extra work, in a job where extra works thrive."
Van Pelt raised her eyebrows expectantly. "So..." All she wanted was to get as far away from the severed body part as possible.
"He's an upper manager at the hotel and gambling business." Jane responded proudly.
Cho wasn't impressed. "Total guess."
Ronnie nodded. "The Nevada air is getting to your head, Jane."
Eager to prove himself and have fun in the stifling heat, Jane gave a broad smile. "What do you wanna bet I'm right?"
Expression never changing, Cho went digging through his pockets, comping up with a handful of coins. "35 cents."
It was his change from getting himself and Ronnie coffee that morning.
"35 cents." Jane repeated incredulously.
Rigsby and Ronnie shared a choked laugh, thoroughly enjoying the exchange.
"Yeah." Cho shot back.
Jane wasn't satisfied with the meager sum. "I find that hard to believe considering that huge crayon bank you probably have hidden behind your bedroom door that you have been filling with all the spare change you could have accumulated since you were, what, 15? Am I right, Ronnie?"
She spread her hands indignantly. "You ask me that like I've even been to his house."
"Have you?" Rigsby wondered.
"35 cents," Cho broke in, unwilling to budge or admit to anything—at least not without a lawyer present. "Take it or leave it."
"I'll take it." Jane said, eyeing Ronnie carefully. "You've got a bet."
While everyone else looked interested and amused by the wager, Van Pelt looked scandalized. She turned her head towards Rigsby, as though she'd hoped for better from him. "I don't think it's right to bet on such things. That's a human being that died." She gestured down to the appendage.
Rigsby was quick to brush the matter off. "That's okay. We're in Nevada. You're in California, yeah, it would be wrong. Out here, in Nevada, it's okay to gamble on body parts."
Ronnie felt the need to butt in at the point. "And, technically, we don't know for sure that someone died. He just lost his hand, so there's no reason for us to lose our heads."
Nobody thought that was very funny.
In fact, Van Pelt looked mortified.
Whatever response any of them may have had for Ronnie's questionable sense of humor was silenced by Lisbon approaching with a peeved look on her face. "The hand is three feet into the state of California, so he's our baby. Get our friend bagged and tagged and let's get outta here."
Ronnie slapped Cho's chest lightly. "We've got it handled."
"You have to stop."
Trying for the sake of her sensibilities, Van Pelt did her best to ignore her teammate. "Do we have any other information?"
"The print says that it's James Quincy Meier. He runs the Quelito Resort & Casino. Come on." Lisbon reported, nodding to Van Pelt and Jane.
Rigsby and Ronnie stood by, guffawing in disappointment as Cho accepted defeat and slapped the agreed-upon 35 cents into the gleeful possession of Patrick Jane, who laughed brightly and thanked him.
THE MENTALIST
Cho, Rigsby, and Ronnie baked themselves in the California and Nevada heat, ensuring that the hand was properly transported.
Rigsby did most of the talking to the CSI guys who showed up from the sheriff's office. He watched them make their measurements and take their pictures with the tags and markers, all the while scribbling notes on his memo book to pad his report of the crime scene at the conclusion of the case. He laughed with the local officer in charge as a tech wrapped the hand gingerly in plastic and then set it into a plastic box.
Ronnie wondered if they made evidence boxes specifically for dismembered appendages.
While their young, boyish detective friend chatted it up with the local law enforcement, Cho and Ronnie paced the area, wondering if they were imagining the heat seeping up from the asphalt into the soles of their feet.
Suddenly, she took a quick step away from the hand, just before the techs packed it away. The expression on her face was filled with disgust, a stark contradiction to the ambivalence she'd carried herself with earlier.
Cho's arms fell from their crossed position over his chest with concern at her jerky movement, approaching her in two smooth strides. "What is it?" He asked lowly, head tilted down and eyebrows furrowed to look her in the eyes.
Ronnie's face scrunched even further. She pressed her hand to her nose. "Is it just me or is that thing starting to smell?"
Cho's shoulders relaxed at her question. He looked unappreciative of her dramatics over something so inconsequential, but he glanced back to sniff the air anyway. "It's hot. Body parts decompose faster in the heat."
"Yeah, I know." Ronnie turned away from the section of Highway, pulling her shirt up over her nose. "Figured that one out when I was thirteen."
Cho stared after her in disbelief.
He couldn't decide whether to ask if she needed therapy or if she had ever considered writing a book based on her experiences.
It wasn't long before everybody was packed up and on their way back to the sheriff station. Ronnie tromped in after Rigsby, following an officer to a conference room where they could set up their computers and wait for word from Lisbon. As soon as the three of them were alone standing around the table, Ronnie took one look at the long table and let out a longsuffering sigh.
Rigsby set down a box of gear and glanced at her. "What's with you?"
She kicked out a chair and fell into it gracelessly. "I'm tired of the whole 'waiting around in the sheriff's office' bit." She threw a gum wrapper at Rigsby. "I'm going out of my mind."
He lifted his eyebrows in disbelief and turned away, mumbling under his breath, something about how he'd thought she'd already gone out of her mind.
"They'll only be gone for an hour or two, tops." Cho assured her, sitting next to her.
She crossed her arms, slouching down in her seat. "It's never less than like three hours, Cho, don't lie to me." She couldn't help herself—she felt crabby. After a few seconds, she switched positions, putting her crossed arms up on the table and dropping her head atop them sleepily. "Three hours is long enough for a nap."
She began scoping out the office for a couch, hoping there was one other than the ugly tan one in the lobby. If Jane's couch were there, she would even consider risking his possessive crankiness and crashing on it. "Why is this office so hot?" She mumbled, getting up to poke around.
Cho got to his feet, following slowly. "What are you doing?"
The inquisitive younger woman tossed a confused look over her shoulder. "Looking for a couch."
"You're actually going to take a nap?" He questioned blankly.
Ronnie left the conference room, wondering why her partner was on her heels like an expressionless, monotoned puppy. "I certainly hope so. I'm a growing girl, Cho, the gains are sleep-fueled."
"But you never nap. In fact, you've shunned me for even suggesting it. Multiple times." Cho had his hands on his hips, so close behind her that she felt his boots scuff her heels a few times.
She cast a few more searching glances around the tiny office, finally giving up at the realization that the poorly-furnishing sheriff's station had no convenient locations for an impromptu snooze. "I'm serious, Cho, I'm reinventing myself. I'm over the mindless droning of waiting for Lisbon to call. From now on, I'm just going to sleep through the lulls. It's as healthy for me as working out."
However, as she had found no couches or stray beds lying around, Ronnie circled back to the conference room, pulled up her chair, and sank into it. Propping her feet up onto the conference table, she fixed her gaze on her strange and unusually striking partner. "Why are you crowding me?"
He stared down at her, features unchanging. "What's up with you?"
When she didn't respond, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you feeling sick? If you're feeling sick, you can go home."
Ronnie stared up at him like he'd suggested that she go across the street and twirl signs for the mattress store. "What?" She stretched out, sinking down in her chair until she could rest her head on the back.
Cho pulled out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Is everything okay?"
She adopted his blank, emotionless stare, examining Cho's face in quiet disbelief. Considering calling Lisbon herself and driving out to the family of the victim to escape her own partner, Ronnie leaned slightly away from him. All she wanted was to doze off for a few solitary moments, but all she could see for her future was him staring at her from a distance as she slept. "You're very pretty today, Cho."
If his expression could have possibly blanked out anymore, that's what his face would have looked like.
At his moment of confusion, Ronnie turned her head away, winked at Rigsby, who was looking on in amusement, and then closed her eyes comfortably.
"Masters--"
"Cho. For the love of puppies. I'm fine. I'm okay. The heat makes me lethargic and I don't sleep very well at night. Now back out of my personal bubble and breathe in another direction." Ronnie blindly threw an arm his way, smiling as her fist found purchase against his chest.
She heard him get up and walk away, joining Rigsby at the other side of the table.
"Hey there, pretty boy." Rigsby greeted him quietly.
"Shut up."
THE MENTALIST
Ronnie had rubbed the sleep from her eyes four minutes before Lisbon, Jane, and Van Pelt returned from a casino with a Blackjack dealer. Ronnie watched Cho march her into the interrogation room and turned to Jane. "You know most casinos play for money, not people, right?"
The blond consultant gave a little grin and half a shrug.
Ronnie caught a glimpse of the dealer's face right before the door closed. She was cute. "Jeez, how good a player are you?"
"They've banished me from the casino." Jane winked at her and then held the adjoining door open, where Lisbon was waiting to oversee Cho's interrogation.
She shook her head. "I'm gonna go in with Cho. He'd be lost without me." Ronnie let herself into the interview room and found her usual spot standing against a wall, meeting the dealer's eyes briefly before the woman focused on the man sitting before her.
Lisbon, Van Pelt, and Jane had gone to the victim's home to speak to his family, and had discovered more of his character and where he worked. It was at that casino where they had found some shady underhanded activity conducted by the blackjack dealer by the name of Alexandra.
With Ronnie looking on protectively from behind, Cho learned from Alexandra that, while she and her cousin had been caught stealing money from the casino and had been fired, they had nothing to do with the victim's murder.
Evidently, Alexandra's share of the money was being allotted to paying for a new liver for her dying mother, which the ever-cynical Ronnie felt disinclined to believe. It just seemed all too convenient that Alexandra had been caught and fired, and that Meier had been killed the very next day, and coincidentally, Alexandra had decided to show up to work in his absence.
She firmly claimed that she had nothing to do with Meier's death; that she'd come back to try to get her job back. The alibi she gave was that she had been at the hospital with her mother at the approximate time of Meier's death.
Cho had her chatting freely until Jane popped his head into the room, waving and grimacing in a quick apology. As he leaned on the door handle like a child, Ronnie shot him a chiding look.
He responded with a sly wink. "Sorry to interrupt; quick question—when Meier aske you if Matt Etienne was involved in your scam, what did you tell him?"
Alexandra stared at him, unsure. "I told him that Mr. Etienne had nothing to do with it."
Jane looked confused. "But he does, doesn't he?"
"No."
The confusion vanished and was replaced by a brilliant smile. "Thanks. You can go." With that, he turned and escaped the room, regardless of the utter befuddlement of those left behind.
Cho twisted in his chair to stare at his own reflection in the one-way glass. "She can?"
Ronnie glanced to Alexandra, who was just as confused as the rest of them, half-poised to get up and make a break for it while everyone was still trying to get their bearings. The woman shot Ronnie a returning look, questions in her eyes.
Since Cho still seemed to be lost, Ronnie headed for the door, still holding Alexandra's gaze. "Just wait here for a few minutes and Agent Lisbon will give you the all-clear. In the meantime, my exceptionally pretty partner will thank you for your time." Ronnie waited pointedly.
Scrambling to collect himself, Cho got up and grabbed his notebook. "Thank you for your time." He followed the blonde woman out.
Nobody mentioned the second pretty remark.
Finally collecting themselves, Cho and Ronnie entered the bullpen to find Jane and Lisbon perched on the edge of a desk, Lisbon holding a plain white box in her hand. Her eyes were flashing back and forth between the box and the consultant, a mixture of suspicion and muted excitement in her expression.
Jane looked smug as a cat, looking on in anticipation.
Whatever was in the box couldn't have been a gag based on how pleased and excited he was to see how she liked whatever he bought for her.
Ronnie leaned against the desk that Van Pelt was sitting at, crossing her arms over her chest, smiling fondly at the two of them. She couldn't believe Cho didn't see the attraction between the two of them.
While Lisbon carefully opened the white box, Jane twisted around and pulled two more identical boxes from a bag behind him. "Van Pelt, catch." He tossed her one of them, and then met Ronnie's eyes. "Heads up, kid." The next box sailed through the air towards her.
Ronnie caught the box as Lisbon caught sight of whatever was in hers.
"What is this?" Lisbon breathed in awe, meeting Jane's fond stare.
Ronnie felt Cho come to stand behind her, so close that her shoulder brushed against his chest.
"Carbon placed under extreme pressure." Jane returned gleefully.
Van Pelt's box contained a ruby necklace and earrings.
Almost afraid of the extravagance sure to be within, Ronnie carefully peeled back the cover, peering inside cautiously. Her heart just about stopped at the contents.
Cho leaned in even closer to see what she got.
The sapphire necklace and matching teardrop earrings that she stared up at her represented the most expensive, most beautiful gift anyone had ever given her. She found she was having trouble breathing in the presence of such luxury.
Lisbon was all but speechless with shock. "We can't keep this stuff."
Already attached and in love, Van Pelt looked up with a heart-broken expression. "We can't?"
Ronnie felt almost relieved that she wouldn't have to be burdened by the guilt of accepting the gift.
"It's against regulations." Lisbon explained, looking extremely flustered. Despite all of her protests, she seemed to be unwilling to relinquish the diamonds.
"No it's not." Jane argued. "Why would it be? I won the money fair and square, and I spent it fair and square. Where do the regulations come into it?"
Cho straightened, backing off of her shoulder. "So where's our stuff?" He shared a look with Rigsby and then landed his piercing stare back on Jane.
"Your stuff?" Jane repeated blankly, appearing clueless.
"Well, you didn't just get stuff for the ladies, that'd be creepy."
There were a few awkward seconds of silence, which Ronnie used to run a gentle fingertip over the face of one of her gems. They just wouldn't stop sparkling at her.
All of a sudden, a big grin broke out on Jane's face and he revealed two smaller packages, tossing one to Rigsby and one to Cho. "Who's your daddy?"
Rigsby giggled, digging in, while Cho popped the top off of his life like a child on Christmas. "Thanks," He uttered, a sentiment which was immediately followed by "Now it must be worth a lot of money, because this is the ugliest watch I've ever seen." He showed Ronnie a watch with a giant, gaudy face covered in glitzy diamonds.
She cringed at it, pushing the box away from her face with the palm of her hand. "Don't wear that, Cho, it'll distract from your eyes." She teased, faking a gag.
"It's horrible," Jane agreed. "I asked for the most expensive watches they had."
Rigsby, on the other hand, looked thrilled with the offending jewelry. "Thanks man." He uttered excitedly, waving the awful thing in the air.
Jane jumped up from the desk, clapping his hands together. "Alright, let's go. I got us a table booked at the best restaurant in town. Apparently, they tell you the name of the cow your steak came from."
The ever-delicate Van Pelt recoiled, disgusted. "That's horrible."
Amused, Lisbon shook her head and attempted to wave the matter aside. "Forget the steaks. We're on a case. We can't be seen living it up in fancy restaurants."
Jane toned down his vigor. "Good point. Uh, okay. Little place on the way back to Calida. Let's go."
His suggested actually appealed to Lisbon, who stared at him for a long, hard second before an embarrassed blush colored her cheeks. "Alright, then, let's go."
Ronnie watched Lisbon and Van Pelt fasten the necklaces on and put in their earrings before crowding out to the van, thrilled about the evening ahead. Her white jewelry box still sat on her palms, seemingly growing heavier and heavier with every passing second.
Cho put his watch on and hovered by the door, glancing back expectantly. "You coming?"
She looked up sheepishly. "The last time I held this much money, I was stealing it."
He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "He bought them for you. They're gifts."
She set them on her lap and shrugged awkwardly. "I don't wear money, Cho. Unless you count branded gymwear."
"Masters," Cho wandered closer. "Lisbon isn't an extravagant person either, but she's wearing hers. I think you can put them on for one evening, and then, if it makes you more comfortable, you can sell the diamonds for more branded gymwear." He carefully fished his hands into the jewelry box. "May I?"
Ronnie didn't say anything, just watched him raise the glittering string of diamonds in the air in front of her face, and then met hi questioning eyes hesitantly.
He took her silence for assent and maneuvered himself behind her, positioning the necklace over her collarbone. Ronnie awkwardly held her hair out of the way, skin chilling at the heavy, cold stones, lying against it. When the clasp was fastened, she fought a shiver at Cho's fingers on her neck, adjusting the placement of the chain.
She slipped the earrings into piercings she hadn't used in at least a year.
When Cho came back around to examine her in her finery, he seemed to be struck still for a second. "You look pretty, Ronnie." He extended a hand to lead her out of her chair, as though a woman arrayed in gemstones called upon some ancient courteous instincts buried deep within him.
"Not as pretty as--"
"Shut up and take my hand, Masters."