Ronnie spent the morning in court.
Despite her weeks of testimony all those years ago, spelling out her case to judges and juries, spilling every gruesome detail that she could remember, Ronnie found herself summoned back to the stand after Carla Masters finally fell into custody.
She'd expected to see or at least hear from her prosecuting attorney Aaron Hotchner, but learned from an entirely new legal team that he'd retired from law and gone on to work as an FBI profiler out in Virginia.
Tensions having lessened between them since Agent Pike returned to Texas, Cho took it upon himself to go with her to her hearing for moral support. In fact, she'd told him that he needn't bother, that she could very well handle another round of cheap shots in the judicial boxing ring by herself, but her stubborn stoic partner couldn't be dissuaded.
It turned out to be just as well that he came.
Every time she found herself staring into the wickedly disappointed eyes of her mother, at least she could turn her head and look at Cho's blank face instead. His deep, dark eyes and foreboding expression yielded a far more familiar comfort.
Any instance in which Carla's defense attorney asked her a particularly vapid question, she could see his eyebrows sink lower and his chest puff fuller as he beheld the matter disappointedly.
After three hours of relentless and gutless questions from defense and prosecuting attorneys, the judge released Ronnie for the day and she and Cho made their exit.
If Carla expected her to sit around and hang on every word, getting sucked in emotionally, she couldn't be more wrong.
She could sit in her chains and her jumpsuit and her discount Toms and she could wonder how her only daughter in the world could leave that courtroom with careless laughter on her lips.
Even better, she could sit there and wonder how she could coerce that daughter to shoot her closest friend and still have to watch them leave together, arm in arm, as though they'd had the nerve to grow closer through the whole experience.
Ronnie and Cho stopped for celebratory milkshakes and fries on their way back.
They'd missed the start of a new case evidently, but a few minutes with Rigsby upon their return to the CBI got them up to speed fairly quickly, despite having to make sense of him talking past the food in his mouth.
Apparently, a 32-year-old Clair Wolcott was found shot to death in her hotel room, where she'd been spending the night with a Paul Fricke. He had also been shot, but fled the scene before it was discovered and sought help from another guest at the hotel, who patched him up and then proceeded to sleep with him.
Clair Wolcott's husband had invited the CBI to work the case discreetly, due to his wife's indiscretions with Paul Fricke. So far, the crime scene had been covered, and Lisbon and Jane had tracked down and interviewed the audacious Mr. Fricke.
Ronnie popped the fridge door open, mildly disturbed by Rigsby's retelling. It sounded like Paul Fricke was your average playboy, despite his attempt at legitimacy by referring to himself as a 'pickup artist.'
Lisbon's voice could be heard from the hallway, so Ronnie snatched up the protein bar she'd left in the fridge and downed it quickly. After just coffee and a bagel for breakfast, plus the milkshake and fries, she could feel her stomach twisting for protein.
She'd have hell of a day if all she managed to metabolize were starchy sugars.
"Cho?" Lisbon called from the hallway. She stood with a particularly tall man who bore himself with an air of unrest. "If it's convenient, Agent Cho would like to ask you a few questions."
Despite having been absent from the case all morning, Cho picked up his cue seamlessly. He greeted the man briefly and then beckoned for him to enter an interview room, both of them disappearing behind closed doors.
Lisbon's eyes found Ronnie, taking in her upscale navy blue pinstripe suit. The clothes were considerably fancier than the jeans or 5.11s that she normally wore to work. "Oh, you had court today, that's right. How did it go?"
Still chewing, Ronnie shrugged a shoulder. She swallowed her bite. "Not something I enjoyed, but I'm sure that was the most civil encounter I've ever had with my mother."
A light smile flashed across Lisbon's lips. "I'm sure." She nodded back towards the interview room. "Go on in with Cho. He's talking to our victim's husband. Also, one of our possible suspects is a career chauvinist. Don't be surprised if he makes some unkind remarks."
"Got it, boss." Ronnie tipped a salute and crossed the hall to let herself into Cho's interview room. She slunk in silently, taking up her usual position behind Cho to watch any bits of body language that her partner might miss while taking notes.
"Did she say where she was going or who she was meeting?" Cho wondered, to which Mr. Wolcott responded that he hadn't even asked, and that he had no reason to be aware of when she was visiting the spa as it was something she often did.
"Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt her?"
The husband seemed genuinely perplexed, calling Claire harmless. He said that she was distant from her family, who lived out east, and that she didn't keep any friends in California, but that she spent her time shopping and playing tennis and going to the spa. As he finished speaking, a sudden epiphany dawned in his expression that Cho pounced on instantly.
"I recall she fired an assistant last month." Mr. Wolcott revealed. "Caught her stealing jewelry. I believe she was pressing charges."
"Name?"
"Natalie something. My people will have her details."
Cho switched his line of questioning. "Are you aware that on the night of her murder, your wife was meeting a lover?"
Pride wounded, Mr. Wolcott stiffly responded to the affirmative. "The local authorities told me they suspected as much."
"Did you know she had a lover? Prior to her death, I mean?"
"No. Do you have a name? Is he a suspect?" Mr. Wolcott seemed to be just the type of man to pursue his own ideas of justice, an idea which Cho recognized.
"We have a name. He's not the suspect."
"Who is he?"
Cho didn't even hesitate in the face of the man's demanding tone. "I'm not at liberty to say."
"I want his name."
Ronnie had to suck in a breath to move past the swell of aggravation at the arrogance with which he spoke to her partner. Saying nothing, she instead watched the way Mr. Wolcott's eyes hardened with every passing second.
"You can't have it." Cho returned flatly.
"Are you sure, Agent Cho?" Wolcott snapped fiercely. "Because I can make one phone call and your career is toast."
Cho closed his notepad. "That's impressive." Nothing in his body language indicated that he was intimidated by the husband's threats in the slightest. "Best I can get with one phone call is a pizza."
the MENTALIST
Within the next hour, Cho was interviewing the fired assistant who had been found with stalker-type photos of Claire Wolcott and Paul Fricke together.
While he conducted the session, Ronnie responded to a summons to Minelli's office. She hadn't been supposed to sit in on that conversation anyway, as young women like the one Cho was speaking with didn't typically take kindly to a woman of Ronnie's temperament glaring down her nose at them.
She clicked her way down the hall on chunky heels.
The long, flared pants swirled around her ankles as she moved. It was nice to be able to wear something dressier to work every once in a while.
Granted, she wouldn't appreciate the trade off of having to wear them to court first, but at the very least it was the best excuse she had to wear a polyester blend instead of canvas.
Ronnie knocked on Minelli's office door, pushing it open after the older man's voice beckoned her in.
"Agent Masters, thank you for being so prompt." Minelli threw her a kind smile, gesturing for her to sit.
"Of course, sir."
"I understand you had your testimony this morning. How was that for you?"
Ronnie seated herself politely and folded her hands over her lap. "Long and arduous, as most court proceedings are."
He gave a commiserating chuckle.
"But honestly, sir, I can't tell you how relaxing it feels to sit across from her and see the glint of her handcuffs in her eyes." Ronnie finished, matching his pleased smile with one of her own.
Minelli leaned forward sincerely. "I hope you know I mean it when I tell you how happy I am for you that she's no longer a present concern. It must be nice to be back at home again, right?"
Clearing her throat awkwardly, Ronnie shifted in her seat. "I haven't gone home yet, actually. I can't really get over the fact that she's had her grubby fingers all over my apartment. I'm...um...looking for a new one."
Her words gave Minelli only a moment of pause. "Yes, I suppose that's more than understandable. Best of luck to you."
"Thank you, sir.."
"Anyhow, the reason I called you in here is this: there's been evidence suggesting that Carla has numerous operations still underway without her direct supervision, but she's not cooperating. We've invited the FBI in to consult, since we're unable to gain any insight on the next few shipments before they cross the boarder into Mexico. They've called ahead and requested your cooperation, since you've had history."
Unsurprised, Ronnie lifted her hands acquiescently. "Of course. Anything I can do to help."
"I knew you'd be so amiable. Thank you, Ronnie. They're expected in a few days, once the hearing has concluded. That's all. You can rejoin your team."
the MENTALIST
"Who are all of these women?" Ronnie shuffled into the bullpen a while later, finding it filled to capacity with dozens of waiting women.
Cho stood up from his desk at her approach, flipping to a new page in his notepad. "Everybody in Paul Fricke's contacts." He paused to adjust his belt and then gave her a once over. "What did Minelli want?"
She still couldn't believe there were so many women. "All of them? Jeez, I hope he's vaccinated." After a second, she recanted. "No, screw him, I hope *they're* vaccinated."
Cho's eyebrows raised mildly. "You think they share less accountability than he does?"
She scoffed. "He's a disgusting pig. They're just foolish." Ronnie shook herself and pulled her eyes away from a particularly glitzy looking woman who appeared to be more the type to receive payment than give it. "Carla's not cooperating, obviously. Minelli wanted to know if I'd consult with the FBI team that's coming to work the open cases."
"You gonna be okay rehashing all of that again?" Cho wondered, peering into her eyes like he could divine her truest thoughts.
Ronnie lifted her hands. "If my life's work amounts to destroying her life's work, I'll rest easy." She cast her eyes over the crowd of women again. "So how's this shaking out? Anybody look good for it?"
Cho's face morphed into one of flat irritation. "No. Not at all. Van Pelt just record of a cashier's check that Clair Wolcott wrote out to Paul Fricke for 200,000 three days before she died. The account she used was held by Keith Wolcott, which means her husband would have known about it."
Ronnie let out a whistle. "Juicy stuff."
"Yeah. Jane and Rigsby have gone back to the crime scene, and I'm here talking to a room full of women who think our Paul Fricke fell from Heaven."
Ronnie took pity on him. "I'll help. We'll have them knocked out in no time."
"This is only A through M. The rest come in tomorrow."
She stared. "The hell?"
Cho rubbed his face tiredly. "I just don't get how this guy does it. What could have possibly attracted so many different types of women to the same douchebag?"
Ronnie slapped a hand to his shoulder, gearing up to conduct interviews of half a dozen gullible women. "Beats me, Cho. But I bet you could ask him."
the MENTALIST
Finally, after a full day of hearing about the man and talking to half of his ex-girlfriends, Paul Fricke was brought to the CBI for questioning, and he was Cho's subject.
Even though she knew he'd have something to say about her, Ronnie wanted in on it and she took position against the wall.
Cho started off with cards on the table. "You misled us, Paul. You were going to take money from Claire."
The smarmy pickup artist shrugged incorrectly. "But I didn't, did I? A business associate of mine is opening up a new club here in town. He, uh, offered me a role as partial owner if I could come up with a share of the building costs. Claire was generous enough to offer me a loan."
"And?"
"I went to deposit it just a couple days ago and was told that the check had been stopped." He seemed bothered about it.
Ronnie wondered how many people had stiffed him on payment. Certainly none of the women from earlier. They all adored him.
Cho didn't ask. "That must have been disappointing. What did Claire say?"
"She said it must be a mistake, and she'd take care of it Monday."
"Did you believe her?"
"Doesn't really matter. You know what the best part about being me is?" His attitude was kicking in as he sized them both up.
"No, I don't." After talking to all those besotted women, Cho still couldn't figure out what attracted anyone to that man. He was a liar and a user and a player and yet do somehow had an enormous client base.
"There are literally dozens of rich, needy women out there that, uh, I could go to for financial help. I didn't need Claire's money."He turned to Ronnie. "I could even have you if I wanted, you know?"
Oh good, here it comes.
Fricke scanned her. "I mean, you're a little more butch than I typically go for, but a woman's a woman."
She smiled back at him. If there was any possible way that he could be the killer, she prayed the evidence materialized instantaneously. It has been a long time since she'd personally made an arrest.
"Focus, Paul." Cho interrupted, catching the man's attention once more.
Before he could go on, Jane burst into the room. "Hey," he gave Ronnie's arm a little punch in passing and then leaned over the Table, smiling briefly at Cho before zeroing in on Paul. "Uh, what's the story with Katie the waitress?"
Cho flashed Ronnie an irritated look. "I'm in the middle of something."
Jane pulled back a little but didn't retreat. "Oh. I'm sorry. I was just thinking. I had a thought. Bear with me? So Katie... tell me."
Fricke seemed disarmed by the intrusion, but blundered on innocently. "Nothing to tell. Used to be if I, uh, didn't score for whatever reason, I'd, uh, call her off the bench."
"Can't sleep alone, huh?" Jane guessed.
"Some people use cocoa and a good book. I use beautiful women." Fricke's smug smirk was pointed at Ronnie then, who merely grinned right back at him.
What a chump.
"She must have been crazy about you To put up with a deal like that, huh?" Jane reasoned while Cho sat back in annoyance.
"I guess so." Another shrug.
"Difficult for her now to watch you pick up a different beautiful woman every night."
Somewhat confused, clearly in denial, Paul shook his head. "That's not how it is with me and Katie."
Jane blasted right past the refusal. "Well, sure, it is. She loves you. That much is clear. Maybe that's what this is all about. Your behavior got too much for her."
"Katie has absolutely nothing to do with this." He was definitely unmoving in that belief.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I know Katie. She's a good person. She would never hurt anyone." Softness. Tenderness. Not just loyalty, but fondness.
"Okay, great. Thanks. You can go."
Cho jumped back into the conversation, pointing a staying finger at Paul. "No."
Jane corrected himself abruptly, throwing Ronnie and Cho both looks of apology. "Ah, sorry. I'm sorry. When agent Cho says you can go, you can go. Not a moment sooner."