CONTENT WARNING: Rape/SA
Rick Tiegler, assistant lecturer to Dr. Royston Daniel at the Model Life Clinic, was brought in by Lisbon after taking one look at the highly malleable Carl Resnick and diving headlong up a flight of stairs, a maneuver that landed him firmly at Cho's interview table.
"I'm not talking about Carl. I don't know anything about him." He was starting off strong with denial.
From her usual spot, Ronnie examined his strung out, uneasy body language and tried to ignore how cold she suddenly seemed.
She couldn't help feeling like she knew the guy. He looked familiar, the narrow slant of his eyes and the sharp lines of his jaw and high cheekbones, and she could have sworn she'd heard the dulcet tones of his voice before, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't place him.
"Ok," Cho relented, leaning against the glass and crossing his arms tightly. "Let's talk about your job. Agent Rigsby asked around at the Center. Everyone says you're Dr. Daniel's number one guy."
Tiegler had an airy, earnest look about him as he smiled hollowly at Cho, his palms flat on the table. "I'm proud to assist Dr. Daniel. And I'm good at what I do. That's what the model life is all about."
"If anyone could put the hex on Carl Resnick, it's you."
Instantly, Rick started fidgeting. He picked at his sleeves, his breathing coming fractionally faster. He flashed an anxious look at Ronnie and then quickly redirected his stare to his hands when she raised her eyebrows sharply at him. "I wouldn't say that, no."
Cho watched his body language change quietly, his eyes tracking the nervous man's movements. "You ever try your stuff on Mary Beth Hendrix?"
The denial burst out, full force again. "I'm not talking about her, either."
Again, Ronnie got hit by a rush of nostalgia, but still couldn't place why he was so familiar.
"Are you a drinker, Rick? Would you like one now?" Cho glanced at his partner and then took a seat at the table and laced his fingers together.
Tiegler gave a little laugh and then looked to Ronnie as though she was going to jump up and fetch them all a round of beers. "You offering?"
Cho was not amused. "No."
Tiegler's empty smile fell, his shiftiness returning with a vigor. "I'm not a drunk. I'm just under a lot of stress."
Of course he was under a lot of stress. He was chained to a table being questioned as the number one suspect in a murder case.
Ronnie pulled her jacket more tightly around herself.
You're not cold.
It's hot in here.
Cho's got his sleeves rolled up again.
It's hot in here.
Cho had his blank stare pinned on his suspect. "I understand. Were you drunk when you killed Mary Beth?"
"I didn't." Tiegler shot back calmly.
"That's right, you didn't. But if something happened when you were drunk, it means you had diminished capacity. It means you're not responsible like you normally would be." Cho spoke in a low, gravely voice meant to encourage openness and trust, but at the moment all it was doing was distracting his partner.
He always talks to suspects like he's trying to offer the sweetest comfort.
Usually when he's lying to them, but still.
He never uses that voice on me.
Should I be grateful?
Rick Tiegler was desperate to buy the lie. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." The agent responded softly and sincerely, despite not meaning a word of it.
"Yeah I know that." Tiegler stated in a breathy tone.
"Well? Is that how it was?"
"Maybe, I—I don't really know."
"Tell me what happened."
"Yesterday, I—I kinda asked Mary Beth out. She said no. Actually, she said 'no way in hell.'"
Cho absorbed the quiet rage that was radiating off of Tiegler with an air of understanding. "So, last night you were mad. Maybe went to a bar to forget."
"Yeah, I kinda hoisted a few...dozen. But, I mean, come on, everybody needs to let off a little steam, right?" He laughed like he was waiting for Cho to commiserate.
He didn't.
"I lasted till about one and then I kind of blacked out. And then when I woke up, it was five a.m. and I was in Mary Beth's living room. I was standing over her body. I was holding a gun. I could smell the powder. But I was just standing there as calm as could be." He recited the facts like he was reading them off a page, his eyes glazed over.
"So, you killed her." Cho clarified carefully.
There was a long pause as Rick searched for any other conclusion to draw from his memories instead of the obvious one. Finding nothing, he shook his head regretfully. "Yeah, I guess I did. But like you said, I'm not responsible."
Cho didn't pounce on the confession, patiently milking every crucial detail before snapping Tiegler out of his own kind of trance. "And after you killed her, that's when you decided to use your skills to frame Carl Resnick?"
"We'd been partners in a trance exercise and I'd put him under a couple of times. After that it just gets easier. Especially with someone like Carl. He's such a cream puff."Rick boasted proudly.
Ronnie could swear she'd seen that subdued arrogance somewhere before.
"What did you think would happen when Carl dragged a murdered girl's body to the cops? Did you think Carl was getting out of there alive?"
"Well, I—"
Cho was done. "Rick. We're charging you with the murder of Mary Beth Hendrix. Stay put."
Tiegler's eyes widened into big circles. "Really?"
"Really."
the MENTALIST
Cho strode into the bullpen with two boxes of pizza and a skip in his step. "No pineapple on this one." He announced proudly, pausing by Van Pelt's desk to allow her and Lisbon to grab a slice.
Then he spun and offered the box to Jane, who resolutely refused.
"You have to." Cho shot back, flabbergasted.
Seated at her desk, Ronnie waved her hands for the pizza and grinned gratefully as Cho twisted to extend it within her reach.
"It's tradition. The case is closed." Van Pelt reminded Jane staunchly.
"Hm." Jane was nowhere near convinced.
"Hm? There's no 'hm' on this one. An hour ago we found the gun that killed Mary Beth im Tiegler's apartment with Tiegler's prints on it." Lisbon stared down at Jane with a condescending smile, thrilled to finally have one up on the genius consultant.
Cho sat at his desk, selecting his own rewarding slice of pizza. Once he had it in hand, he looked over his shoulder. "Plus, you know, the confession."
Thoroughly proud of himself for tricking that one out of Tiegler, he turned back around and met Ronnie's hand with a triumphant high five.
Jane still didn't buy it. "Didn't Rick Tiegler's blackout strike you as weird?"
Rigsby joined them then, finally returned from having given Resnick a ride home. "He got drunk, he blacked out, he killed someone. Who hasn't been there?" Glancing around with a laugh, he realized abruptly that a few of his audience were less than comforted by his justification. "Kidding."
"Tiegler came out of a drunken stupor standing upright over a body instead of facedown in a pool of vomit." Jane continued.
Ronnie's stomach churned, staring down at her slice of pizza distastefully. As she contemplated whether or not she wanted to continue eating with that image in her head, Mary Beth's sister, Lindsay Hendrix, arrived to collect her sister's effects. Before Rigsby could get her packed up and on the road, Jane jumped up from his seat and asked her if she believed Tiegler was the killer.
She didn't, and she was dissatisfied enough with the results of the investigation that Lisbon was forced to abandon her pizza and take Lindsay into her office with Jane and Rigsby to crack the case open once more.
Ronnie dropped her slice onto her paper plate, brushing the crumbs off of her hands. "Well, that's my appetite down the drain."
Across from her, Cho munched away pleasantly. "I don't care what they say—hypnotized to take the fall for a murder and then frame someone else for it or not, I got a confession out of Tiegler in five minutes flat. That's gotta be one of my records."
Sparing a proud little grin for her partner, Ronnie scooted the pizza box over onto Rigsby's desk and nodded acquiescently. "You're right, that was a bit of magic you did in there, Cho."
His face scrunched up unappreciatively. "Don't patronize me."
"I'm not. You did impressive work."
"Whatever."
"Oh, come on, Cho, don't psych yourself out of a victory." Ronnie threw a napkin at his face and watched his expression return to the muted glee that only showed up when he performed so well on the job.
As he went back to his pizza, unencumbered by the possibility of having to do more work on the case, Ronnie settled into her chair and crossed her legs, playing with the top of her boot.
Her wrists and ankles felt rubbed raw, like having the worst rope burn.
It's the boots and the jacket.
I must be allergic to synthetics.
Focus on Cho.
Ronnie leaned her elbow on the desktop and cupped her chin in her palm. "You really did some amazing work in there."
His eyes flicked up to meet hers curiously, chasing his last bite of pizza with half a bottle of water. "He was a walking guilty conscience. It wasn't that hard."
Focus on Cho.
"Yeah but you played him like a fiddle. It's no wonder you head most of the interviews." She might have been placed on the team as a weapons specialist and possible future under cover asset, but there was still a little part of her that wanted to learn from Cho and move into the realm of detective like the rest of them. If she had the manipulative background with Carla and the interrogation training with Cho, she could be incredible in that interview room.
He gave a half shrug. "Years of practice."
Her wrists burned.
Focus on Cho.
Lean in deeper.
Make it more interesting.
"You know that voice you use to coerce a confession is kinda sexy?"
Oh god not that interesting.
Cho's eyes blanked out instantly, his eyebrows lowering fractionally as he stared at her. "Right."
She shrugged casually and leaned back in her chair, throwing her arms out over the armrests. "I'm just saying—you get all compassionate and gravelly—why aren't you ever that warm with me?"
This is the worst possible situation.
Why am I here?
He was growing more and more confused as the words just kept tumbling out of her mouth. "You want me to manipulate you to confess to something."
Pressure tightened around her chest.
Just roll with it.
Keep it going.
Keep sinking into it.
Letting her jacket fall open, she watched his eyes lower for a millisecond before returning to her face like it never happened. "No. Cho. I'm kidding." She scooped up her plate and gathered up his too, headed for the trash. Before she disappeared around the corner, she tossed a quick wink over her shoulder. "It is kinda sexy, though."
Well, damn, I guess this is what we're doing.
the MENTALIST
Dr. Royston Daniel wasn't totally honest with Agent Rigsby, as it turned out, and withheld the fact that he and Mary Beth had been dating for at least six months prior to her untimely death. The information had been given by Lindsay, who described the situation as she knew it to Rigsby, which led to Van Pelt retrieving Dr. Daniel and placing him in Cho's capable hands.
Twenty-five minutes into the interview, Rigsby calmly interrupted Cho and bashed Dr. Daniel's head into the steel table.
The wealthy hypnotist's nose broke on second impact, and he admitted that he and Mary Beth had been dating as Ronnie unceremoniously hauled Rigsby forcibly out of the room.
Within seconds, Jane uncovered the reason in little more than a single glance—Rigsby had been hypnotized.
Moments later, Rigsby found himself banished to his desk chair, cackling at the absurdity of Jane's accusations. "Oh, I've been hypnotized, have I? You gonna make me do embarrassing things? Pretend like I'm Tina Turner or something?"
"You wanna be like Tina Turner?" Jane wondered amicably, grinning down at the young agent.
"Jane, trust me, I'm not hypnotized." Rigsby threw up his hands defensively. "I feel fine! Totally normal."
From his position seated at the end of Rigsby's desk, Cho stared at him flatly. "Normally you don't break the noses of suspects."
Rigsby gawked at him. "What are you talking about? I just questioned the guy."
As Lisbon leaned in to confer with Jane, Ronnie came to stand behind Cho, her hands comfortably planted on his shoulders. "Well, you're a terrible liar, so I'd have to say you actually believe what you're saying."
He rolled his eyes at her. "Knock it off, Masters, I swear to you, I'm fine."
"Relax, I believe you believe that." She shot him a wink. "And you are fine, by the way."
Cho tilted his head back to look up at her. "Don't flirt with him, it confuses him."
"Sorry."
Jane moved in to crouch right before Rigsby's face. "Do me a favor. Close your eyes. Please? Now relax. Don't tell me, but think about it."
Rigsby reluctantly closed his eyes and settled in, listening intently for Jane's instruction while the team watched on in curiosity.
"Think about what you most wanna be doing right now. You can do anything you like in the whole world. What are you gonna do? I want you to open your eyes and do it. Do whatever you like."
Seconds later, Rigsby was up from his chair, catching Van Pelt in his arms. Before she could say a word, he kissed her, holding her tightly to him, encouraged by the way her arms wrapped around his back.
"Oh, yeah." Jane murmured, everyone staring. "That's what I'm talking about."
Ronnie's jaw dropped. "You did that on purpose, you practically sexually harassed both of them."
Jane threw his hands up. "I did nothing."
Cho reached up to his shoulder and covered one of her hands with his, distracted by their coworkers making out in the bullpen as a scientific experiment. "Oh, please, they just needed a push, they would have done it on their own."
Pressure squeezed around Ronnie's hips.
My pants feel tight.
It's the pizza.
Damn grease and cheese.
Focus on Van Pelt and Rigsby.
They're making out at work.
Cho kept holding Ronnie's hand as they stared in awe at the rapidly heating kiss between their friends.
"Okay." Lisbon relented, exasperated. "He's hypnotized."
Coming back to herself, Grace broke free from Rigsby and hurried to hide behind Jane. "Unhypnotize him."
"You sure?" He teased.
She punched him. "Do it."
the MENTALIST
Ronnie and Cho spent the evening at the courthouse trying to figure out why the Model Life Center would post 50,000 for Rick Tiegler's bail while Jane and Lisbon followed Rigsby to his hypnotist.
"How's your throat?" Cho wondered, passing Ronnie a paper cup full of tea from the Keurig in the courthouse lobby.
Accepting it gratefully, she put aside her cellphone for a moment. "It's not so bad right now. Thank you."
I'm not cold.
Lisbon's calling.
Cho's phone rang and he flipped it open, hitting the speaker button. "Hey, Lisbon."
"Yeah, listen, we got her. Lindsay hypnotized Rigsby, and she killed Mary Beth in a jealous rage, she tried to kill Dr. Daniel. We've got her in custody and we got Rigsby back. We're all good. We're going to drop Lindsay off and do the paperwork and we'll process the case tomorrow. Go home and get some sleep. Is Masters with you?"
"I'm here, I heard." Ronnie responded, leaning closer to the mic.
"Alright, I'll call Van Pelt. You guys go home. Good work, have a good night. See you in the morning." Lisbon ended the call before they could respond in typical Lisbon fashion.
Ronnie pocketed her cell phone. "So I guess Model Life posted bail because there was no reason not to." she turned to Cho with a wry smile.
He put a hand to her back, leading her out of the courthouse into the dim sunset outdoors. Walking down the steps together, Ronnie felt a bit of panic.
The case ended so abruptly.
It would often happen, with half of the team working one angle and the other half finding the solution with another, but she hadn't meant for it to be over already.
It can't be over already.
Her stomach flamed.
I'm just hungry.
Don't let it be over.
Stay in the moment.
Ronnie stopped abruptly on the steps and turned to stare into the setting sun, clinging desperately to the spray of orange and red that spread across the sky. "Isn't that the greatest thing you've ever seen?"
He wouldn't think so. He would be hungry and tired and itching for a shower. "I guess." His gruff voice sounded behind her. He shrugged out of his tailored suit jacket and slung it over his arm. "You need a lift back to your hotel?"
"No, just back to the CBI. I left my bike there." Ronnie couldn't look away from the sun.
Don't end it.
Don't come out of it.
Cho's hand touched her back again, grabbing her attention. "Let's go, we can grab burgers on the way."
Reluctantly stepping after him, holding onto the feeling of his strong arm against her back, she followed him to his car and let him open the passenger side door for her.
When he settled into the drivers seat beside her, he turned the ignition over and backed out of the parking space, not seeming to notice the way she was mentally cataloguing everything in sight.
The expanse of the dusty, plastic dashboard. The radio display that still had the plastic screen protector from the factory on it, peeling up slightly at one corner. The jelly air freshener fastened to the A/C vent, blowing a cool cactus scent into the car around her face.
Something tugged at her legs.
Stay in the moment.
Cho reached over and grabbed her hand, catching her attention abruptly. "Are you alright, Masters?"
The nod came too fast, too fervent. "I'm hungry," Maybe if she filled the silence with words, the truth would fade away. "I'm glad the case is done. I'm jonesing for my bed right now."
He swiped his thumb over the back of her hand and she held onto that feeling with every ounce of effort.
"I'd kill for a shower," he agreed.
And then they weren't in the car any more, they were standing out side of it, between it and her motorcycle in the CBI parking garage, using the trunk of his car as a picnic table.
After-case burgers with Cho were some of her favorite dinners. Trying desperately to ignore the frantic beating of her heart, she slurped down some of the crispest Dr. Pepper she'd ever tasted.
Stay in the moment.
Focus on Cho.
"I like that shirt on you," he said suddenly, his eyes firmly planted on his burger.
Everything else fell away as she zeroed in on the words falling from her partner's lips. "You do?" How often did he compliment her so boldly? He'd called her good looking before, yes, but to brazenly bring up such an observation out of nowhere?
"It's sexy." He met her eyes with a teasing grin, and all of her shock evaporated.
Really.
My shirt is sexy.
Ah. He was teasing her the way that she teased him. He'd finally pulled one over on her and gained the flirtatious upper hand, taking her completely by surprise. "Good one," she admitted, shaking her soda at him. "You got me."
He chuckled to himself and picked up his own drink, washing down his burger with a few long swallows of Sprite.
"Finally gave up fighting it, huh?" She reached out and gave his tie a gentle tug before running her hand down his arm, from shoulder to wrist. "Took you forever to stop blushing about it. I'd swear you've never been flirted with if your early reactions were anything to go off of."
Cho set his Sprite down on the roof of his car and leaned in closer, his deep, dark eyes appraising her bravely.
Stay in the moment.
"I wasn't really kidding," he remarked, and reached out a hand to push a long blonde strand of hair behind her ear. "It really is sexy." His hands slid around her waist, big and warm and strong.
Her heart leapt into her throat, hammering intensely in her ears.
This is the moment?
It's working.
Stay with it.
Focus on Cho.
Both of her hands were on his chest, completely thrown off by finding herself in her partner's very intimate grip. The muscles under her fingers were hard and hot, vibrating with energy—or was she just shaking?
Pain exploded up her back.
You can't feel it.
All you feel is Cho.
He felt so big when she had to stare up at him like that and feel his huge hands cup the curves of her waist. He made her feel so small and delicate when he held her like that.
Ronnie's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Are you hypnotized?"
He tugged her close and kissed her.
Oh my god.
His mouth moved gently over hers, fingers gripping her waist as her hands fisted in his shirt.
We're kissing?
Stepping closer, Cho moved one hand to her hair, and caught her upper lip tenderly between his teeth. When he pulled back to read her expression curiously, he found her, dazed and confused, staring back at him.
His thumbs brushed sweetly over her face. "You can't be that surprised."
Wanna bet?
"I kind of am, though." She gave a breathless laugh and allowed her hands to move up his chest to either side of his neck.
Kissing Cho.
That's a new one.
He pressed his lips to hers again, fingers gripping her hair, and pushed her back against his car.
Stop.
Her legs clenched.
Stop.
Ronnie broke free from Cho, gasping, and he discovered tears in her eyes.
Hands tugged at her hips.
Stop.
"Ronnie, what's wrong?" Her partner brought his hands to her face, searching her eyes for a clue.
That feeling.
That feeling again.
God no.
"Can you hold me?" Her voice was a whisper. Tears tracked down her cheeks, her throat going sore once more—everything was breaking, fading away. She needed it back. She needed those walls back up. "Please hold me." Her hands ached from striking invisible blows. "I need you to hold me."
Broken sobs reached Cho's ears and one look at the building horror in her face had him reaching to protect her without a second thought.
He always would.
Cho will always try to protect me.
His arms came around her like a shield, filling every available space in her mind until it was all she knew. Tucking her nose into his throat, breathing in the familiar scent of her best friend, she noted every detail. The breadth and force of his chest pressed into hers. His powerful arms banded around her back like steel. His face pressed into her hair, her face pressed against his broad shoulder. His legs braced around hers, holding her up so she didn't have to stand.
Cho held onto her as tightly as she could imagine.
I'm not being raped.
I'm not being raped.
I'm not being raped.
the MENTALIST
The naked woman strapped to the steel table had never once taken her eyes off the ceiling. Arlov watched the tears flow down her temples to pool on the table beneath her, her chest billowing up and down with ragged breaths.
She'd thrashed enough to bruise him, but not enough to stop him.
And in all that time, bound by steel and leather, Ronnie Masters never begged forgiveness for her betrayal, never apologized for the murder of his son, never repented of making a fool of him.
When she wasn't screaming, she was whispering. He'd heard the names of her teammates, and the chanting of a mantra: 'Self isn't something you find. It's something you create.'
He'd heard her between the slices of his knife through her flesh, between her screams: 'focus on Cho. Focus on Cho.'
So he knew.
His suspicions had always been correct:
Ronnie Masters would let him break her body, but she'd never let him break her partner.
CBI Agent Kimball Cho would be joining them soon.
end of episode eighteen
Note: I'm sorry.