Mentalist Virtual 8

This blog is dedicated to a virtual season 8 of the hit show The Mentalist. By writers, for the fans! This is a continuation of our beloved characters and the family they grew to be and the team they grew to love. We hope you have fun reading our little glimpse into the life of our beloved team! We hope you enjoy what we have don! Thank you for reading and allowing us to do this for you!

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We would like to announce that we will no longer continue this project. Our writers have gone down, and those still interested are very busy in their valuable time. We thank all those who have contributed in some way or another, and gave your time to us for your wonderful art. At the end of the day, we cannot continue to provide you with weekly updates/episodes. We will leave this page up for archival purposes.

Thanks for the love and journey. 

The Writers.

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Update!

For those asking, this project is still very much alive. I no longer use tumblr in a personal capacity, but for me and the team and this project, we will be finishing the back half of the season starting in April (discussions). Stay tuned! :)

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Our first half has concluded!

This concludes the first half of our season. We are aiming for a later spring/early summer return with the back half of our season! We hoped you enjoyed the first half, and you guys absolutely have been overwhelmingly kind, and seem to genuinely love it!

We would like to thank the artists and all of you who have inputted your time and talent into this project. Without you, there would be no visual representations. We have painstakingly talked about and voted on every single aspect of your scripts before it became a final piece. It was a long road to bring you the content we have. We’d also like to remind people that season 8 is still seeking writers/artists for the last 5 episode. If you are interested, we’d like to hear from you.

Don’t forget! If you prefer to read these in a fanfiction style, you can find us HERE. The reviews have been insanely positive. You can leave an anonymous review with honest opinions there, if you’d like (but we encourage you to look at the art on the posts provided).

Finally, we’d like to thank you, the readers, for your loyalty and for sharing your opinions on each episode. We read all your comments and reviews, and we value your opinion. Thanks for the support, time, and the incredible honor of making your characters extend their lives for you.

On a personal note, I believe we have the best writers working for this project, which is why it is working as great as it is. I’d like to personally thank the writers who have been with this project from the start, and even talked me into keeping it going when I didn’t know if I could. They are not only great talent, but awesome human beings who listen and understand this project, and what I had in mind, and made it better with their incredible writing talent. The artists also deserve an amazing amount of credit. They brought our episodes to life, and we always get excited when we saw new art submitted. We can’t wait to see what you guys have in store for the second half of the season!

We know some of our plot points for the second half, and we hope you will truly enjoy what we are planning for you. Five episodes are down. Five more remain.

We will see you for the second half.

Thank you.

The team

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                                                 BLACK KNIGHT

                                            SEASON 8, EPISODE 5

                                                        TEASER

“Checkmate!”

“How did you…?” The sound of Wylie’s surprised words trailed off as Jane placed his king piece into its final position producing a smug grin upon the consultant’s face. The part-time consultant leaned over to check on Liam who was soundly sleeping in the pram sat beside him. He and Liam had come by to the offices to take Lisbon out for some lunch. Jane had made a delicious homemade picnic for them all, hoping to enjoy the warm sunshine at the local park for a few hours.

“Strategic planning, my young friend. Chess is not just a game of winning. It’s a skill of strategic planning and control. Always being two steps ahead of your opponent.”

“He’s not giving you his gloating speech on forward thinking and strategic planning, is he?” Lisbon quipped with a smirk as she entered the break room. She gave Wylie a sympathetic wink seeing that the poor guy had that solemn look of disappointment at being beaten.

“It’s not ‘gloating’ as you put it, my dear. It’s fact.” Jane stood up from the break room chair placing a quick kiss to his wife’s cheek. “And you, my dear, only think it’s babble as you’re a bad loser.”

Jane watched as Lisbon’s face changed from happy contentment to slightly irritated within a matter of seconds. “Are you ready for some lunch?” he asked hoping to distract his wife from his dangerously brave comment.

“I am NOT a bad loser!” Lisbon placed her hands on her hips glaring in Jane’s direction as he disengaged the brake on Liam’s pram.

“Oh, come on. You are. Admit it. But hey, it’s okay. It’s just one of your adorable little flaws that I love about you.” Jane gave her one of his beaming sexy smiles hoping it would work its magic.

“One…? Of my flaws?” Lisbon raised an eyebrow in disbelief as he began to dig the hole even deeper. “And when exactly have I been a bad loser?”

“Well…” Jane paused, contemplating whether to continue into this territory. “Christmas just gone for a start. At your brother’s,” Jane replied quickly handing the control of the pram over to Lisbon, hoping if her hands were occupied he was less likely to get injured or shot.

“Stan was cheating. He had over one thousand dollars stuck up his shirt sleeve and he added an extra hotel on Broadway when no one was looking,” she spat defensively.

“Well, that may be so, but using foul language, throwing the old shoe at Stan’s head and storming off was a tad dramatic,” Jane added, watching as Lisbon’s eyes widened in embarrassment. Jane playfully winked at young Wylie who was sat eagerly listening to the husband and wife banter.

“I didn’t throw it,” Lisbon huffed pushing Liam’s pram out of the break room towards the elevator. “I just… accidentally… dropped it.” She winced, hearing how her own lie wasn’t coming out very convincingly. Jane had always said she was a terrible liar and he was obviously right.

“Besides, I was heavily pregnant and full of hormones at the time. It’s rule number one, you never cheat a pregnant woman.”

Jane chuckled knowing full well Lisbon’s reaction towards her younger brother would have been exactly the same, regardless of hormones or not. Before Jane could respond or Lisbon could call for the elevator, Cho appeared at the doorway of his office with a look of apprehension written all over his face.

“Lisbon, Jane, can I have a word in my office?” With no further explanation, Cho disappeared back to his desk. It wasn’t often Cho let things rattle him, but it was obvious that something was up with their normally cool composed Supervisory Agent.

“Wonder what that’s about?” Lisbon remarked nervously. There was something in Cho’s tone that told her this was going to be something more than a friendly catch up.

“I don’t know.” Jane focused his attention on studying Cho through the glass partition that separated his office. “Let’s go find out, shall we?” Jane held his arm out allowing Lisbon to go first. He painted on a happy beaming smile hoping to ease Lisbon’s growing anxiety but knew himself by Cho’s mannerisms whatever this was about, it wasn’t going to be anything good.

“Hey Cho, let me guess, you need love life advice with Rosales and I am the man for the job.” Jane playfully winked as his wife as she parked Liam’s pram. She checked on her sleeping baby boy stroking a small curl and tucking the soft blanket in around him. Taking a seat beside her husband, Lisbon rolled her eyes before focusing her attention on her boss.

“I just had a call from the San Francisco office. They are going to be handing over a case to us,” Cho said getting straight to the point. “They discovered John Doe remains at a new housing development just outside of Fairfield in Napa Valley. I have already sent Rosales there to start on the forensics report. Initial reports indicate the victim has been buried for a while. But Anna should be able to confirm the exact timeline for sure.” Cho paused, watching as Lisbon’s posture tensed whilst Jane seemed unaffected and nonchalant, casually sitting crossed legged in the chair opposite.

“What’s that got to do with us here in Texas?” Lisbon inquired, unsure if she really wanted to know the real answer to that question. “Can’t the San Francisco office handle this?”

“We managed to get a positive DNA match.” With that Cho pointed his remote control at the TV screen placed on the wall. The face of Robert Kirkland’s Homeland Security profile appeared on the screen making Lisbon’s head spin back and forth. Jane also shifted forward in his chair taking a long look at the dead agent’s face staring back at him.

“I –I don’t understand,” Lisbon stuttered. “I mean, we know Kirkland was shot and killed by Reede Smith. Reede confessed and we had his body in our custody.” Lisbon spun to look at Jane, hoping he was as stunned as she was, but he seemed calm as he studied the screen.

“You’re right. He was,” Cho agreed not elaborating any further. Cho sat back in his chair watching as Jane slowly worked out the mystery, taking a few quiet moments to process it all.

“So… how the hell did Kirkland’s remains end up buried in a building site in Napa four years later?” Lisbon stated stunned, her eyes darting between her boss and her husband who were both sat in silence.

“They didn’t,” Jane finally responded calmly taking his wife’s hand in his own. He gently rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in a soothing gesture knowing that this unexpected blast from their past had clearly unsettled her.

“Our victim is not Robert Kirkland. It’s his missing twin brother… Michael.”

                                                        ACT ONE

Lisbon stepped out of the SUV, letting the morning Californian sun caress over her. They had touched down at the San Francisco airport an hour before, being greeted by very hot Californian heat wave. Lisbon opened the back door of the vehicle getting a sleepy Liam out of his car seat as Jane made his way to the trunk to retrieve their bags.

“I am fine Lisbon,” Jane sighed continuing their conversation from the airport. “Besides, you are forgetting it was my decision to work this case.”

“Yes, I know and I am not even sure why. You heard what Cho said. He doesn’t expect us to work this case. He and the rest of team can handle it,” Lisbon reminded him glancing up at the beautiful white house situated behind them and ignoring Jane’s heavy sighs at her over protectiveness.  

”I mean Kirkland kidnapped you, he was going to torture you to death for information and you want to help solve his brother’s case? I just - I just don’t get it,” Lisbon added, baffled by Jane’s insistence he consult on the case. The realization that he hadn’t really explained his reasons of wanting to be involved in the case and that he needed to try explain to put her growing fears to rest. “Look, I know you are worried but I-…”

The sound of the front door of the house interrupted his explanation.

“Teresa! Patrick! Oh, you’re here!”

“We will talk more later,” Jane told her as May Minelli skipped over to them. May immediately engulfed Lisbon in a hug. It had been arranged that while they were in California working the Kirkland case Liam would spend some quality time with Virgil and May while also being near to his parents.

The last time Lisbon had seen May and Virgil had been whilst she had been pregnant. Minelli had invited them both to stay for the weekend. Unfortunately, only she had ended up going as there was some emergency repair work Jane had to do on the cabin and he was unable to go. Although she had a sneaky suspicion that Jane may have just planned it that way.

She always had maintained a close relationship with Minelli, and when Jane had fled the country a few years back it had been Minelli who had helped her acquire a job as Chief of Police in Washington State through some of his old contacts.

“Hello, Patrick, lovely to see you again,” May greeted warmly, giving the handsome consultant a quick kiss on each cheek.

“Hello, May. You’re looking very well.”

“Can I?” May asked, becoming all tearful as she eyed the beautiful baby Liam, now fully awake in Lisbon’s arms happily sucking on his favorite ducky toy.

“Of course you can.”

Lisbon smiled warmly as the older woman took her son showering him with affectionate cuddles and kisses. “Oh, Teresa, he is even more gorgeous than his pictures,” replied May, already absolutely smitten with the little boy.

“Where’s Virgil?”

As if on cue the gruff tones of Virgil Minelli came floating from the doorway of the house.

“Well, here comes trouble if I ever saw it.” Minelli gave a small smirk as he walked out of the house and across the drive. He looked much older but good for it. Retiring from law enforcement had done him the world of good, along with meeting and marrying May.

Minelli engulfed Lisbon with a huge affectionate hug hello. Both he and Lisbon stayed in the tight embrace for a few minutes. Lisbon couldn’t help but become emotional at their union, realizing just how much she missed her old boss being in her life.  The sound of Liam’s high pitched wail made the teary eyed pair split apart, making all four adults laugh in unison.

“Looks like the little man gets a little jealous where Lisbon is concerned,” Jane jested, grabbing another bag of Liam’s toys from the trunk.

“Like father like son then,” Virgil answered giving Jane a familiar knowing look. Lisbon noticed a small flash of nervousness appear in Jane’s eyes but he quickly masked it by giving one of his dazzling smiles.

“Good to see you again Virgil. It’s been a long time.” Jane stepped forward holding his hand out for the older man to shake. Minelli remained rooted to the spot showing no sign of emotion. Before May or Lisbon could interrupt the awkward tension building between the pair, Minelli finally grinned, pulling Jane into a man hug, shocking everyone by his overly friendly gesture.

Minelli patted Jane firmly on the shoulder. “Here, let me help you with that, ” Taking a toy bag from Jane’s hands, Minelli frowned, catching a glimpse into the pack filled trunk of the SUV.

“Jesus Christ! How much stuff does this baby need?” Virgil stated in shock. “He is only staying with us for a few days, right? Not until he graduates college!”

Jane and Lisbon both chuckled whilst May gave Virgil a short whack to the back of his arm for his poor attempt at humor towards their guests. “Ignore the grumpy old man. Come on in, I have put the kettle on.”

“Why do I get the feeling our boy will have a very spoilt fun filled few days staying here with Uncle Virgil and Aunt May?” Jane whispered cheerfully before making his way up to the house with more of the little boy’s bags.

“Yeah I think you may be right.” Lisbon watched as her family and her surrogate family disappeared into the beautiful home before her.

She realized how lucky they all were to have May and Virgil in their lives especially as they were probably the nearest thing Liam would have to grandparents. Lisbon suddenly felt the need to know more about her husband’s blood relatives. She was aware that Jane hadn’t had any contact with his father or any knowledge if the man was even still alive, but she was totally in the dark about his mother. All Jane had said was that his mother had left him when he was only four.

The only known living relative of Jane’s was a maternal aunt living down in Nevada. Maybe once this case was closed they could get in contact with his aunt and try rebuilding some family ties.

 Cho’s team quietly filed into the San Francisco FBI conference room for a full briefing on the Michael Kirkland case. Agent Robert Kirkland had originally filed a report with the Missing Person’s Unit back in 2004, so they were lucky to have some basic information on their victim.

Cho stood at the podium once everyone was settled and had a copy of the missing person case file to hand.

“This is Michael James Kirkland. His remains were found at the Longhurst housing development site two days ago. He was officially reported missing back in October 2004 by his brother, Robert Kirkland.”

The picture of Michael Kirkland showed he was identical to his brother Robert in every way, minus the goatee and his hair was styled differently. His nose had been previously broken too so it looked a little flatter than his twins.

“Michael Kirkland was thirty-eight years of age when he went missing,” Cho continued. “Rosales arrived here in California yesterday, and her forensics report tells us that our victim died by being shot in the side of the head at close range.”  

With that, Wylie’s fingers eagerly began tapping on the keyboard of his laptop, producing a picture of a skull buried in the ground next to the victim’s picture.

“An execution maybe?” Lisbon suggested as a theory as to the cause of death.

“Maybe.” Cho nodded having thought the exact same thought. “It was a nine-millimeter bullet. Anna found it still lodged in the skull.”

Jane and Lisbon gave a small smile towards each other at hearing Cho use Anna Rosales’ first name, letting it slip that they were definitely more personally involved than just professional colleagues.

“There was no bullet casing found at the scene and no dried blood found in the soil or anywhere surrounding the crime scene. So that most likely means our victim was killed elsewhere and buried there. Rosales also confirmed the victim had four broken ribs at his time of death and some serious internal bleeding. There was no ID found on the victim but Rosales did manage to extract DNA from the remains found, finding a positive match through the FBI database to his brother, Agent Robert Kirkland.”

Lisbon shifted uneasily in her chair when Wylie made another picture appear up on the screen of the murdered Homeland Security Agent she had once worked a case with and shared a coffee.

“As far as we are aware, Michael Kirkland’s last known whereabouts were a place called Redmington, in Napa Valley. According to the missing person’s report, he was last seen on October 23rd, 2004 by a Dr. Mason Fuller. The report also confirms that Michael had sold his house eight months before his disappearance.”

“So, where was he living then?” Tork asked, flicking through the case file notes trying to find the answer to his own question.

“We don’t know,” Cho replied. “That’s where this trail goes dead.”

“Wasn’t Agent Kirkland convinced his brother was murdered by the serial killer, Red John?” Philips asked bluntly, making the rest of the team tense.  Everyone knew this case was going to be highly sensitive with the connection between Kirkland, Jane, and Red John.

“Yes, he did. He was 100% sure of it,” Jane stated firmly, speaking for the first time since the team briefing had begun. He focused his eyes on the new recruit, studying her for a few minutes.

He was curious to know how the new recruit knew this certain piece of information. It wasn’t common knowledge apart from those directly involved with the case as they had never found any evidence to back up Kirkland’s red John connection. That could only mean that Agent Philips had been reading the old Red John CBI files for some reason. Jane felt his own interest peak more in the new recruit, who was obviously eager to know more on his old closed case.

“So, was Michael Kirkland involved with Red John?” Philips continued, not backing down from her original inquiry despite receiving nervous glances from Wylie who was sitting to the right of her.

“We don’t know,” Cho answered, taking back control of the meeting. “There was never any evidence found of how Agent Robert Kirkland had come to this conclusion.”

“Well there wouldn’t be,” Jane stated loudly. “Kirkland was a conducting his own revenge mission. He wouldn’t have filed any of his evidence or findings officially with the FBI or Homeland Security. He didn’t know who he could trust back then with the Blake Association up and running.”

Jane threw the case file notes haphazardly on the table in front of him, disregarding them completely. “Robert Kirkland would have kept any vital information separate from the FBI and Homeland. We need to see Kirkland’s personal things.”

“Not sure that is going to be possible,” Wylie added, typing frantically in search of the answer to Jane’s request.

“What happened to Robert Kirkland’s belongings when he died? Do we have any of them in storage?” Lisbon asked, seeing this case was going to be an absolute nightmare to work if no evidence, family, or belongings were available to help them investigate.

“Uh, according to records, all his belongings went to his ex-wife,” Wylie confirmed, looking up to see a stunned Lisbon looking back at him.

“Robert Kirkland was married?” she answered, having not known that piece of information about the man. The creepy Homeland Security Agent had always come across as more machine than human being to her so to hear he had been married was a bit of a shock.

“Yes. To a Susanne Kirkland,” Wylie continued. “They were married for eleven years. She lives near Sacramento. They had only been recently divorced at the time of Agent Kirkland’s death.”

“Then we need to go see her,” Jane added. Lisbon had noticed Jane had been unusually quiet throughout the meeting. Normally he was the one asking all the questions and throwing up clever theories, but he remained fairly quiet so far.

“You really think Susanne Kirkland will still have his belongings after all this time? It’s been nearly four years, Jane.”

“Well, maybe. Maybe not,” Jane agreed, knowing it was a long shot. “But she has kept his surname after all this time and they were married for eleven years. That’s not something you just throw out with the weekly trash.”

“I agree. Whilst it’s a long shot, Kirkland’s wife may have something that could be vital to helping us solve this case,” Cho added. “Susanne Kirkland is the only living relative to the Kirkland brothers and is possibly the best lead we have to this mystery. We need to try to get idea of what Michael was doing in those last eight months before he completely disappeared. Who were his friends? Try and find any links that may connect our victim to Red John or the Blake Association.”

“And how do we do that exactly?” Tork questioned.

“Go old school,” Jane said coldly, leaving his chair and heading for the exit.

“Yes, we go back to old-fashioned detective work. We have the victim’s remains now so that’s one step closer than we were to closing this case,” Cho said trying to remain positive even if it did seem to be an unsolvable case to work.

“We ask the questions and we see if we can solve the answers. Tork, Wylie, I want you to go visit the Longhurst Limited company out near Fairfield. The case notes claim Michael worked there as a laborer for a short time before suddenly quitting months before his disappearance. Philips - you and I will fly down to the San Diego to re-question Dr Fuller. He was the last person to see Michael Kirkland alive. He might remember something new he didn’t remember at the time.”

“Jane and I will go visit Robert Kirkland’s wife Susanne in Sacramento,” Lisbon said as she followed Jane out the room, giving a small unseen nod to Cho, letting him know she would be keeping a close eye on her husband.

They had no idea how this case was going to affect Jane or what sort of reaction he would have to being back and dealing with a new Red John related case. Lisbon could only hope Jane still had some strength left in him for another mystery involving the psychopath who destroyed his world.

                                                        ACT TWO

“You okay?” Lisbon asked as she rang the doorbell of Susanne Kirkland’s home.

“I’m fine Teresa,” Jane replied softly, seeing the concern in his wife’s eyes.

“Really? Because you have hardly said two words on the drive over here.” Before Lisbon could probe any further, the front door of the Kirkland residence opened.

“Susanne Kirkland?” Lisbon smiled warmly.

“Yes, but most people call me Susie. Can I help you?”  

Lisbon and Jane were greeted by an attractive woman in her early forties with long dark chestnut hair. Susie Kirkland eyed the small brunette and the smartly dressed man with curiosity as they stood on her door tep.

“My name is Agent Teresa Lisbon. I am with the FBI and this is my-… this is Patrick Jane. He is an FBI consultant.” The minute Lisbon mentioned Jane’s name, Susie Kirkland’s own smile dropped, making her lips form into a thin line.

“I know who you are.” Susie aimed her answer towards the blonde haired man. Jane returned her acknowledgment with a non-threatening smile hoping it would ease any fears about him.

“May we come in? We would like to talk to you in private,” Lisbon asked when she spotted Mrs Kirkland’s growing worry and anxiety. Susie Kirkland reluctantly stepped aside, allowing them both to pass.

“I will make us some tea,” Susie stated once the front door was shut.

“Thank you. That would be very kind.” Jane kept his voice sincere as he thanked the woman for her hospitality. Lisbon allowed Jane to follow the woman through to the kitchen. She wasn’t used to Jane being so polite and reserved. Normally he was full of bravado and rifling through the house cupboards within minutes with no care or respect for anyone, but this time, Jane seemed to be taking a different approach.

Susie made some tea eventually joining Jane and Lisbon at her large kitchen table. The Kirkland home was a large family house situated out in the suburbs. Jane sat by the back door, admiring the landscaped garden when a large chocolate colored Labrador appeared in the house excitably jumping up into his lap.

“MAX! Get down. I am so sorry. That’s Max. He was Rob’s dog,” Susie said, trying to pull the playful mutt away as animal continued to playfully lick Jane’s face.

“Don’t worry, he is fine. He just wants a play, don’t ya boy?” Jane smiled, taking Max’s gorgeous slobbery face in his hands playing roughly with his ears. Eventually, Max jumped down making his way to his cozy basket for a lazy afternoon nap.

“I guess you’re here about what Bob did, Mr Jane?” Susie inquired with a sharper edge to her tone, preparing herself for some sort of confrontation by the unexpected appearance of the man at her front door.

“Actually, Mrs. Kirkland…” Lisbon started, but Jane jumped in taking control of the conversation.

“Susie. We came here today because the remains of a body were found dug up in Napa Valley. We have made a positive match to your brother in law, Michael Kirkland,” Jane told her softly, observing as the woman’s defensiveness faded and was replaced with one of a genuine shock. Susie leaned back in her chair releasing a big puff of breath. Both he and Lisbon watched as a silent tear rolled down Mrs. Kirkland’s cheek.

“Are you sure? That it’s really Mike?” she asked gaining control of herself.

“His DNA was a perfect match to your husband’s. It’s definitely Michael,” Lisbon confirmed sympathetically.

”I… I can’t believe that it’s finally over. I honestly thought… well, it doesn’t matter anymore, you have found him.” Composing herself and wiping her eyes dry, Susie focused back on the agents. “How did he die?”

“We are still investigating that at the moment, but it looks like it was a bullet to the head. His remains were found out in Napa Valley approximately twenty miles from his hometown,” Lisbon told her.

Susie gave a small ironic laugh. “Bob always said his body was out there. He was a hundred percent sure of it.”

“Mrs. Kirkland…” Lisbon began.

“Call me Susie, please.”

Lisbon smiled kindly at the woman sat opposite her. “Susie, can you tell us more about Michael? We have a missing person file but that doesn’t really give us any real insight to the man. Were you two close?”

“No, we weren’t close but Bobby and Mike were. Twin thing.”

“You never liked Michael,” Jane added in more of a statement than a question. “You feel guilty about that as it’s not in your nature to dislike people.”

Susie’s eyes widened at the blond haired man, wondering how he knew that exactly. “Yes, you’re right. Me and Mike didn’t see eye to eye much. And… and I lost everything because of that man. My marriage, my husband, my world.” Susie’s voice broke a little as she diverted her gaze away in an attempt to hide her raw emotions.

“What can you tell us about Michael? What kind of guy was he?” Lisbon gently asked.

Susie huffed unsure of what to say.  “Where do I start? Michael was damaged. He was badly abused by their father right up until he passed. Bobby was always the stronger one out of the two brothers; he left home when he was 17 and never looked back. Michael chose to stay and ended up drinking his life away. Going from job to job. Gambling, always borrowing money. Needy…. He had a dark side too.”

“How do you mean?” Lisbon questioned, pulling out her notepad and pen from her jacket.

“Mike could be very quick with his fists. Just like his father was. Always getting involved or arrested in fights and brawls. When I first started dating Rob he didn’t take it very well. It had always been just the two of them but then all of a sudden Bob’s attention wasn’t focused on him anymore but…”

“…but on you and Michael didn’t like that,” Jane added, finishing the sentence for her.

“Yeah, Mike hated me. He would never even give me a chance.” Susie dipped her head, obviously upset that her own brother in law had felt that amount of hatred towards her.

“He saw me as some sort of evil she-devil stealing his brother away. At first, we just put it down to them being twins and Bobby thought he would come around eventually, but years later he was still the same way. Angry, resentful and bitter. When Bob proposed to me, Mike went mad, said he was abandoning him. We didn’t see Michael for a few years. He didn’t even come to our wedding. Bobby chose to be with me and Mike wouldn’t accept that.”

Susie paused, taking a sip of her tea before continuing. “But then we get a call one day from the local police out in Napa. Michael had been arrested again and he needed bail. He had stabbed someone in a bar fight.”

“Really? When was this?” Lisbon asked, noting it down in her book. “There’s no official record of this arrest.”

Susie raised her eyebrows worried if she should say anything. Sensing she knew more on the matter, Jane reassured her. “You can tell us Susie; I promise you nothing will come back on you.” Jane placed his hand gently down over on Susie’s, showing her she could trust him.

“It was back in 2001. There wouldn’t be any record on file. Bobby was working with Homeland Security by then and he made sure the incident magically went away. After that Bobby did a lot for his brother. Whenever Mike would get into trouble, Bobby would go running. Abusing his power to help him out. Eventually Bobby had enough of it and put Mike back into therapy, hoping professional help would help with his drinking and violent behavior. I told Bobby he would end up ruining his career and his life for his lousy brother… and he did.”

Susie’s words trailed off, her tone becoming sadder as she gazed off into the distance clearly remembering the exact moment she had just spoken of.

“This therapy you speak of? Do you mean Dr Fuller? It’s recorded he was the last person to have seen Michael Kirkland alive. Am I right?” Lisbon said, wanting to confirm what Cho had told them earlier.

“Yes. Dr Fuller was Mike’s psychiatrist and an old friend. He went to school with the brothers so he knew them both fairly well and about their violent childhood. Mike trusted him.”

Jane gave a quick glance at Lisbon, knowing himself how important trust was when you are sharing your deepest darkest secrets to someone.

“Dr. Fuller ran a small practice just outside of Remington. Mike would go see him regularly, not that it did much good to be honest, and he still carried on drinking. But he did calm down after a time so the anger management therapy must have worked.”

“Yes, I hear anger management therapy can be very helpful.” Jane gave a small grin towards his wife, trying his hardest to suppress it from forming into something bigger as he remembered how Lisbon had to attend a six-month anger management course when she helped him out of a tight predicament back in the CBI days.

“Can you tell us anything about Michael in the last few months before he disappeared? It says in the missing person’s report that he sold his house but we have no record of where Michael was living at that time.”

Susie shook her head. “All we knew was Mike was staying with a close friend. He turned up here one night asking if we could store some of his belongings until he needed them again. At first, we didn’t even recognize him. He was dressed in new clothes, was clean and sober and he looked totally different. He was acting… odd.”

“Odd how?” Jane asked curiously.

“I don’t really know.  Detached somehow. He was polite but just not the Mike we all knew. He seemed different. Bobby persuaded him to stay and have dinner with us. He said that he had seen been shown a high path in life and that he was finally putting his damaged past behind him.”

Jane shifted leaning forward towards Susie, remembering the exact same words Red John had said to him back in Vegas.

“Mike said we didn’t need to worry about him. That Bobby wouldn’t need to sort things anymore. that he was on a path to greatness.” Susie frowned at her own words unsure of what any of it actually meant. “I thought he may have joined a cult, but Rob was adamant that groups of people weren’t really Mike’s thing and a cult would be the last place he would be living.”

“Did Michael say anything more about this friend of his?” Jane asked, studying the woman’s face more intently.

“No, he was very cagey when we asked questions. All he told us was his name was Roy and he had met him a few months previous and helped him get sober.”

Jane observed Susie closely as she told them her side of the story, trying to read her every reaction. Jane was ninety-nine percent sure Kirkland’s wife was being fully honest and telling them the truth. it was clear that Susanne Kirkland had been through a hard time with regards to her ex-husband’s actions and her missing brother in law.

“Oh, actually, he did say this Roy had given him a gift.”

“Do you know what he meant by gift?” Jane pushed.

“No, no idea. It was like he was talking in riddles. We only saw Mike a few times after that but he would still text regularly, though. Bob was worried about him... And then one day he just disappeared.  That was the beginning of the end for all of us.”

Susie stood up from the table clearly uncomfortable about putting her private life out there for all to hear, and poured herself a much stronger drink.

“After that Bob focused all his time on trying to find his brother. He set up the spare room upstairs into his own private office. He would spend hours going through Mike’s stuff and paperwork trying to find something. Eventually our marriage wasn’t even on his radar anymore. I wasn’t on his radar. It was like Bob didn’t care about me or what his obsession was doing to our marriage.

“Finding his brother was all he cared about. He said it was his fault that Mike had gone missing. That he should have helped him more. I told him his brother was a grown man who made his own choices in life but Bob wouldn’t listen. He somehow felt responsible, he always had.

“Eventually, our marriage broke down and we separated. Bob got himself an apartment in the city.  I always hoped that he would miss me so much that he come begging back… but he never did.”

A small tear ran down Susie’s face as Max the dog nudged her leg, sensing his owner was upset and giving her some much-needed comfort. Susie bent stroking the large animal on the head. “You must think I am really silly for getting upset about it all after all this time.”

“No, not at all,” replied Jane firmly but in a kind manner.  “I think you were a woman who loved her husband. A woman who has suffered because the man she loved lost his way trying to find his brother and chasing a monster.”

“I did love him,” Susie nodded, her voice breaking as she wiped away the heavy flow of tears now falling from her eyes. “Max is all I have left of him. I know what Bob did to those men was wrong but he was a good man once. I swear he was.”                                          

“Why did Agent Kirkland think this friend of Mike’s was the serial killer Red John? What real evidence did he have to back this up?” Lisbon asked seeing the poor woman’s struggle.

“Red John? What’s Red John got to do with all this?” Susie asked puzzled by this claim sniffing into a tissue and blowing her nose lightly.

“When your husband kidnapped me, he was adamant that Michael had been killed by the serial killer Red John.” Jane noticed Susie’s stunned reaction, totally unaware of this twist to the tale.

“I didn’t know that Bob did think that,” Susie replied. “He wouldn’t tell me anything. So I gave up asking. After three years of searching, we both knew Mike was dead but Bob said he wouldn’t stop until he found Mike’s body.”

“Do you have any of your husband’s personal belongings left?” Lisbon asked, smiling warmly at the tearful woman. Her heart went out to Kirkland’s wife, knowing first-hand how hard it is to watch the man you love nearly destroy himself over a deadly obsession.

“There are some of his boxes in the garage. To be honest, I haven’t really looked though them… but you’re very welcome to.”

“Thank you Susie,” Jane said softly. “You have been a big help.”

                                                      ACT THREE

Cho pulled up the SUV, parking it along the dusty dirt track leading up to Fuller’s land. He exited the vehicle, instantly hit by the severe heatwave California was in the midst of having. With San Diego being so close to the Mexican border it meant it felt even warmer than it had been in San Francisco.

“Wow! It’s hot down here!” Philips declared, slamming the passenger door and rolling up her shirt sleeves to cool herself from the humidity. She looked out across the large horse riding paddock beside the vehicle. Doctor Fuller and his wife had left Napa Valley a year after Michael Kirkland went missing and now owned their own riding stables near the Mexican border. There was a woman out in the middle of the paddock shouting instructions to a group of riders backed on horses.

Philips and Cho started heading up the drive having spotted a large farm house up on the hillside further back.

“Do you like riding?” Philips inquired to her boss as a large horse and its rider trotted past them waving a hello.

“Never ridden one,” Cho replied, eyeing the large beast with caution as it swished its tail near him.

Philips stopped in her tracks at Cho’s statement. “You’ve never ridden a horse? Ever?” She chuckled. “Not even as a kid?”

“No,” Cho said, not expanding that conversation any further and continuing his way up to the farm house.

“Why do you think Jane really insisted he work this case? After everything he went through, I mean?” Philips asked, totally changing the subject and shielding her eyes from the bright afternoon sun.

“I am sure he has his reasons,” Cho responded sternly, not very comfortable with discussing Jane’s motives with the newbie.

“Hmmm. It’s weird, though. Don’t you think? Do you believe it has anything to do with him and Kirkland both seeking revenge and going to extreme lengths to get it?” Philips was, not deterred by Cho’s evasive answer.

Cho paused, turning to the new recruit. “Jane didn’t kill or torture anyone to get information on Red John. He was nothing like Kirkland,” he told her sharply with a slight hint of anger to his tone.

Philips stopped walking, unable to hide the upset in her eyes by Cho’s harsh reaction. Realizing he was being over sensitive to his new recruit, he backed down. “I think that’s the guy we are looking for.” Cho nodded his head behind her towards a man with dark brown hair in his mid-forties working in a work shed. “Why don’t you take the lead in questioning him?”

Philips’ smile returned, knowing that her boss handing over the investigating was his way of saying sorry for being snappy with her. “Sure thing, boss.”

They approached the entrance of the large work shed to find the doctor dressed in an old pair of overalls, sanding down a piece of wooden furniture. Looking around at the large shed, Cho noticed there were different pieces of bespoke handmade furniture dotted all over.

“Dr. Mason Fuller?” Philips asked, grabbing the attention of the man covered in wood dust. Mason Fuller straightened up, rubbing his sweaty hands on his overalls as the two officials entered the cooler work shed.

“I am Mason Fuller. Can I help you?”

“I am Agent Sandra Philips and this Supervisory Agent Kimball Cho of the FBI. We would like to talk to you with regards to a Michael Kirkland if we may? We believe you were the last person to see him alive back in 2004?”

Philips noticed the doctor tense slightly but quickly mask it, busying himself back with his work. “Sorry, I don’t know who you are talking about,” Fuller replied dismissively.

Philips glanced towards her boss who was also picking up on a strange vibe from the man. “Michael Kirkland?” Philips repeated, holding her cell phone up to show the doctor a picture of the man. “According to our records, you were the last person to see him, Dr. Fuller.”

“It’s Mr. fuller now.”

“So… Do you remember Michael Kirkland now Mr. Fuller?” Philips gut feeling was telling her there was something off about this guy and his dismissive manner towards them.

“Oh, him. Yeah, I remember now. But not sure I can tell you anything I haven’t already told the FBI back at the time when he disappeared.”

“Mr. Kirkland’s remains were found buried in Napa Valley last week.” Philips and Cho both noticed as the color drained from Dr. Fuller’s face with a quick flash of fear filling the man’s eyes. Dr. Fuller quickly recovered and went back to sanding his wooden bench.

“Well, I am very sorry to hear that. Must have been awful for his family never knowing where he was,” the former doctor replied sadly, lost in his own thoughts for a few moments. “Look agents, I am very busy here. Have to get this garden bench finished by Thursday. Demanding customers, you know how it is.  I really don’t see how I can be any help to you. I never knew Mr. Kirkland and like I told the other FBI guy if I had any information to tell you I would. You have wasted a trip I am afraid.”

“Why did you move down here Mr. Fuller?” Cho asked, also sensing something off about this whole setup.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Mr. Fuller snapped defensively, clearly becoming agitated by their presence in his home and work place.

“I am just wondering why a well-respected Doctor, psychiatrist and therapist quit his career after fifteen years for no apparent reason to come run an old horse ranch and become a small time carpenter.”

“Well, that’s none of your business now is it, Agent Cho,” the other man said sternly. “Look I have work I need to be doing, so if you don’t mind I think we are now done here.” The doctor turned his back on the two agents making it quite clear he wasn’t going to discuss the matter any further.

Cho nodded to Philips that they were done with their questioning. “Thank you for your time Mr. Fuller.” They exited the work shed, stepping back into the soaring heat of the sun before making their way to the SUV.

Once out of earshot Philips spoke. “Dr. Fuller is hiding something.” She glanced back at the doctor who was stood keenly watching them leave. “I can feel it in my gut.”

“I agree. But what?”

“I don’t know. Can’t we bring him in, boss?” Philips huffed, annoyed that their trip down south had seemed to be a bust. “Maybe we could bring him up to San Francisco with us? Let Jane have a shot at him. Question him some more there.”

“What for? He hasn’t done anything wrong. Besides I get the feeling the doctor won’t be so co-operative with that suggestion,” Cho answered, also feeling frustrated by it all. “He isn’t a suspect… Chance would be a fine thing,” Cho mumbled under his breath. “And, our gut feelings aren’t enough to arrest him. Come on, let’s go find a motel for the night,” Cho climbed back into the air conditioned SUV. “I need a shower.”

 “Okay, thanks for letting me know May. Kiss my baby boy good night for us.”

“Everything okay?” Jane said, overhearing parts of Lisbon’s phone call as he rifled through a box of high school football trophies Agent Kirkland had won.

“Well, he’s having his bath time. He’s very cranky, sore and in pain. Apparently he got bad sun stroke and some nasty sun burn when they went to the beach this afternoon… Oh and he has ruined his favorite tee shirt with ice cream,” Lisbon informed Jane, returning back to her own search through Kirkland’s belongings.

Jane instantly straightened as he heard about their son’s welfare. “Liam?” he asked worriedly.

“No. Virgil.” Lisbon giggled finally letting Jane in on the truth. “Apparently Minelli had a rough day at the beach. Forgot his sun hat. Liam on the other hand is absolutely fine and having a great time. May says he is loving being with the grumpy old man.”

Jane smirked, imagining Virgil in the way Lisbon had just described knowing just how grumpy the old man would be and grateful they were spending the night away from that aftermath.

“Well there are a lot of boxes to go through,” Lisbon said, scrunching her nose as she held up an old Bart Simpson alarm clock. “What do you think we should do?” Lisbon noticed that Jane was looking beyond her, observing Susie Kirkland and Max the dog pottering around in the kitchen.

“Well, I think Susie Kirkland explains Agent Kirkland’s little crush on you. And why he asked you out on a date.”

“What!” Lisbon spun around. Whilst Lisbon could admit she and Susie did have similar features, she didn’t agree with his assessment about Kirkland’s crush or their innocent coffee.

“You two are very similar. I am sure you reminded him of his wife,” Jane smirked when his wife reacted exactly as he knew she would to his teasing remark.  “You don’t see it?”

“Oh hush. It wasn’t a date. it was just coffee. get back to looking through those boxes,” Lisbon barked whilst Jane retreated to the back of the garage chuckling at her outrage.

“God there’s a lot of crap to go through. We should take all this stuff with us. Maybe we will find something linking it to Red John or his killer once Wylie has been through it all.”

“I think I may have found something useful,” Jane replied calmly, holding something square in his hand. He flicked over the object to show his wife that he had just discovered in an old file of Kirkland’s.

“Oh my god. Is that…?”

“…Lorelei Martins,” Jane answered, finishing off her sentence.

Jane handed the old photograph to his stunned wife. It was a photo of Michael Kirkland with his arms wrapped around the very familiar brunette. It was clear from their body language and the way Michael was snuggling into the woman they were defiantly more than just friends.

“I think we may have found the evidence linking his brother to Red John,” said Jane releasing a small puff of air not at all expecting this turn of events.

“It also explains why Robert Kirkland was so keen to find Lorelei Martins when she disappeared too,” Lisbon stated, staring down at the picture of the deceased couple. She felt a small bout of nausea building in her stomach remembering those horrible events involving Martins and how she had really feared for Jane’s safety and his sanity at the time.

“Come on. Let’s head to the motel. I’m hungry. We can call Cho and update him. Do you fancy Thai for dinner? I know a great take away. They do a great Kung pow chicken.”

Lisbon watched as her husband made his way back up to the Kirkland house. She was confused by Jane’s calm behavior, having expected more of a reaction to this new discovery, but Jane seemed to be very unaffected by it all. She didn’t know if she should be worried about his calm manner or not. She grabbed the box of files Jane had found the photo hidden in and followed her husband, deciding that once at the motel she would try speaking to him about it.

                                                      ACT FOUR

Lisbon and Jane arrived at their motel just gone eight. The motel was clean and modernly furnished, but it couldn’t help but bring back old memories of the motel Jane called home for over a decade for the both of them.

Jane sat quietly on the king-size bed watching his wife unpacking her overnight wash bag flitting in and out of the small bathroom. It had been Lisbon’s turn to go unusually quiet on the drive back. He knew this case was bringing back buried emotions for them both, despite the act they were both putting on for each other.

“You okay? You wanna talk?” Jane asked, seeing his wife was struggling as her search for her bottle of shampoo became somewhat more frantic.

“I am fine. You okay?” she replied in a high voice.

“Yeah, I am stuffed after that take away we just had, but I am doing okay.”

Lisbon paused studying her husband’s gorgeous smiling face. “Are you really?”

The sound of Lisbon’s cell ringing cut their conversation short. “Hey Cho. How’re things down on the border?”

“Hot and sticky,” Cho grunted miserably. “We just checked in at a local motel and are grabbing a bite to eat. We had a few hiccups finding a place to stay.” The sound of Agent Philips’ laughter echoed in the background.

“Our robust Supervisor is very choosy about where he stays,” Philips yelled out mockingly.

“You didn’t see the size of the cockroach wanting to share a shower in that last place, Philips,” Cho snipped at his new recruit. “It was the size of my fist.” Lisbon and Jane chuckled at the bickering pair being reminded of the old Cho and Rigsby days.

“How did things go with Dr Fuller?” Lisbon directed the conversation back to more case related matters.

“Not great. We spoke to the doctor…Or Mr Fuller as he is now. He gave up his practice a year after Michael Kirkland disappeared. He and his wife run horse riding tours for tourists now here in San Diego. And he does some carpentry on the side.”

“A big career change,” Lisbon remarked, watching as Jane also frowned at this news.

“Yeah it is. Doctor was being very vague too. Said he couldn’t remember anything that could help us. He claims he doesn’t remember Michael Kirkland, that it was too long ago.”

“The doctor’s lying.” Jane quickly moved across the room to pick up the cell phone and placed it closer to his mouth. “Kirkland’s wife Susie confirmed that Fuller went to school with both the Kirkland brothers and that is why he was hired as Michael’s therapist. Susie said that Michael only trusted Fuller to talk to about his issues as they were old long-time friends.”

“Right, we will head straight back there and bring the doctor in for questioning. We’ll meet you and Lisbon at the San Francisco office,” Cho ordered firmly.

“Meh, I suggest you leave the doctor for now. Let him think he has got away with lying to us. That way he won’t be prepared when we do bring him in. Leave it till tomorrow and you can both take the FBI jet and be back at San Francisco offices before nine AM,” Jane said spotting Lisbon’s brow frowning in confusion.

“Okay. We will wait till then,” Cho responded, unsure of why Jane wanted to wait to question the doctor but knew when to trust the wayward consultant. “How did things go with Kirkland’s ex-wife?”

“Interesting. She seems like a honest decent lady. Still pretty broken up by her husband’s death and his revenge mission. We may have a found another small lead to help with the case,” Jane said casually, not elaborating on what that actual lead was.  He held his index finger up against his lips to let Lisbon know to remain quiet.

“Okay well we will all convene in San Francisco tomorrow.”

“See you then.” Jane ended the call, acting surprised at the angry glare his wife was shooting his way. “What?”

“Why didn’t you tell him what we found?” Lisbon stated angrily.

“Well it’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow, and I didn’t fancy spending a long car ride to San Francisco tonight. Besides it’s been a long, exhausting, and emotional day, and I wanted to spend some time with you. We can question the lying doctor tomorrow and inform Cho of the old picture then. Is that so bad?”

Lisbon hummed disapprovingly but couldn’t help but give a little smile at her husband’s reasons. Jane was right, it had been an exhausting few days and relaxing at the motel did appeal much more than a long hot sticky night time drive and hours of questioning.

“Besides, this way we get to spend some time alone, and I get to watch that cooking show I like.” Jane quickly jumped on to the motel bed pointing the remote control at the TV from across the room.

Lisbon groaned, rolling her eyes as the sound of a loud cookery program filled the room. “Well if we are staying and you are watching this rubbish, I am going to take a shower.” Lisbon threw a pillow at Jane’s head before making her way to the bathroom.

Lisbon enjoyed the nice cool shower and wrapped a large white fluffy towel around her damp body. She exited the bathroom to find the TV was now off and Jane was sat quietly on the motel bed studying the file and picture of the couple they had found. He was dressed in his favorite satin blue pajamas fully engrossed in the photo in his hand.

“What are you looking at?” Lisbon asked, rubbing her moisturizing cream in to her hands and knowing exactly what and who her husband was looking at.

“Michael and Lorelei,” Jane replied, not glancing up, still too engrossed at studying the picture.

“Oh…”

Jane heard the insecurity in his wife’s voice and refocused his attention back onto her. He gave a small smile as Lisbon moved across the room trying to busy herself with getting ready for bed to hide her jealousy.

“Come here.” Jane patted bed for Lisbon to join him. Lisbon swiftly pulled on her Chicago Bulls night shirt, trying her hardest not to look affected by him looking at the woman who had plagued their lives for a short time.

Jane wrapped his arms lovingly around Lisbon as she sat down on the bed. He moved over allowing her more space to sit beside him.  “What do you see?” Lisbon quickly roamed her eyes over the deceased couple looking for some kind of object or item that she maybe hadn’t seen before.

“Two people. In the sun. Smiling,” Lisbon replied, not seeing anything unusual or out of the ordinary.

“Now what do you see?” Jane asked handing her the older picture of Michael Kirkland stood pictured on his own.

“Jane. I don’t understand, what I am supposed to be seeing?” She was too tired for one of his guessing games. Jane rolled his eyes at his wife’s failure to see the bigger picture, so to speak.

“lt’s easy to see. Michael looks genuinely happy in this one. They both do in fact. “

“They are posing for a photo; everyone looks happy when having a picture taken, Jane.”

“It’s a selfie actually,” Jane corrected her. “See? Michael is holding the camera up above them in his other hand.” Lisbon held the picture up closer seeing what Jane had spotted. “This picture shows they are both happy. In love.”

“How can you tell if they’re really happy? They were disciples of a psychopathic serial killer,” Lisbon added, not really finding the romantic vision Jane was seeing with the pair in the photo.

“Because, my dear, you can see that Michael Kirkland is a man in love in this picture.”

“You don’t know that for sure.” Lisbon chuckled at Jane’s unconfirmed diagnosis of a man he had never even met.

“Yes I do. For a start the way he is holding her in his arms. And the way he is looking at her. It’s in his eyes. It’s in his smile. The way he is presenting himself. When you look at this older picture he looks lost, sad, unhappy, broken. Finding a woman to love can help a man change, become stronger,” Jane answered, his own eyes lingering on his wife’s face, letting her know that statement wasn’t just in regards to Michael Kirkland but to him and their own love story.

“She was a killer, Jane,” Lisbon told him, rolling her eyes.

“Well I never said Michael Kirkland chose the right woman to fall in love with. Not everyone is as lucky as me,” Jane chuckled shaking his head at Lisbon cynical remark.

“So what? You claim you are an expert in love now?” Lisbon quipped, teasing him on his analysis on Michael Kirkland and Lorelei Martins’ relationship.

“Hmm, I think I might just be,” Jane said seductively, allowing Lisbon to snuggle herself into his arms and initiating a kiss between them. Pulling back and breaking the kiss, Lisbon looked deeply into her husband’s eyes. “Why did you really want to work this case?”

Jane sighed, knowing he would have to be fully honest. “I guess it feels like it’s a loose end and if I can help close this case then I want to do that.” Lisbon pulled back even further giving him a ‘There’s more to it than that’ kind of stare.  Jane sighed again, realizing his wife was becoming as good at reading him as he was her these days.

“And… maybe a small part of me feels some empathy for Agent Robert Kirkland.”  He saw Lisbon’s eyes widening in horror so attempted to explain himself better. “I know Kirkland went a bit off the rails in his methods and despite him kidnapping me, in the end, no harm was really done and he was just a man looking for the killer of his family like I was.  I am not saying I agree with all his methods but I understand how chasing that monster can cloud your sound mind and judgment. How the obsession takes over and Kirkland lost the best thing in his life because of it.”

Jane dipped his head, fiddling with a loose thread of the bed sheets thinking about how lucky he was to have not lost the woman he loved during his own revenge mission.

“Kirkland never got to find out the truth about what happened to his brother. Feels like I should try to find out so that he can finally rest in peace. Red John destroyed all their lives too.”

Lisbon placed her finger under Jane’s lowered chin, lifting his head. “You’re a good man Patrick Jane. Do you hear me? I am so very proud of you.”

Lisbon leaned forward placing a firm hard kiss against his lips, extremely proud at the man her husband had become despite everything he had faced. Jane swiftly lowered them downwards on the king-size bed deepening the kiss as they moved. He turned Lisbon on to her back so he was lying above her.

“You do realize that we are alone? In a motel room? And we have no teething baby to interrupt us?” Jane said seductively in between placing kisses to her exposed neck. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

“Hmm. What’s that?” Lisbon whispered blissfully content with her husband’s magic touch.

“A full night of sleep….” Jane grinned as he totally ruined any intimate activities his wife might have had on her mind. Lisbon let out a loud burst of laughter, knowing how hard Liam’s teething had been on them both recently as Jane collapsed his body on top of her in complete and utter exhaustion.

“Do you know what? That’s the best thing I have heard you say all day,” they both climbed under the covers snuggling down for a restful night’s sleep. Before Jane could reach over to turn the bedside lamp off, Lisbon’s light snoring began vibrating softly against his chest.

“Goodnight Teresa… I love you,” he whispered placing a soft kiss to her forehead and quickly following.

                                                       ACT FIVE

Cho opened the door of the interview room followed closely by Lisbon and Jane. Whilst Lisbon and Cho took their seats opposite the anxious doctor, Jane leaned himself against the wall near the back of the room. The rest of team were situated behind the two-way mirror looking in on the questioning.

“Is this really all worth it?” Tork remarked, sipping on his hot coffee and grimacing as the vile bitter aftertaste that lined his throat. “I mean it’s pretty obvious who’s responsible for Michael Kirkland’s death. The guy was living with the serial killer and screwing the psycho’s mistress. Cased closed I say.”

Philips rolled her eyes at Tork’s view on the matter knowing you shouldn’t rule out anything when it came to Red John. Part of them knew that Tork’s theory was most likely the outcome of Michael’s fate, but with no evidence to back it up they had no choice but to follow every lead, and the doctor’s lies about the victim had to be investigated.

“Why am I here? I told you yesterday I know nothing about all this. I can’t help you. Why have you arrested me?” Fuller stated in a panicked agitated tone.

“You were brought here for questioning to help with our investigation, Mr. Fuller. You do realize that lying to federal agents is against the law, don’t you?” Cho replied firmly.

“I never lied,” Fuller said angrily.

“Yes you did. You are doing it right now,” Jane stepped out of the darkness observing the nervous man sitting handcuffed to the desk.

“I swear. I am not lying,” Fuller pleaded to Jane who was now casually walking around the room.

“Then can you explain to us why you claimed not to have known Michael Kirkland, when you were his therapist and psychiatrist for nearly three years and his long term friend?” Lisbon said, bringing Fuller’s attention towards her.

“You were very close to Michael Kirkland and his brother Robert in high school. So close in fact you’re pictured here in the high school year book together.” Cho added, sliding the old school year book they had discovered in Kirkland’s belongings to show the doctor of their findings.

Fuller’s head lowered knowing that he couldn’t lie anymore to the agents. “Okay …so I knew him. I just… I just don’t want to get involved in this mess anymore.”

“What mess?” Cho pushed.

“His sudden disappearance. I don’t know anything.”

“You’re lying again,” Jane stated coldly, pulling up a spare chair to the side of the doctor and observing him closely. “You’re scared. Why?” Jane leaned forward, taking the doctor’s wrist in his hand to feel his racing pulse.

“Why? I have been arrested and dragged miles away from my family when I did nothing wrong. How would you feel?”

“I would feel annoyed and pissed off, but if I had nothing to hide I wouldn’t be this scared. Which leads me to believe that you are in fact the reason Michael Kirkland is dead. You killed him, didn’t you?” Jane released the man’s wrist and sitting back in his chair.

“What! No! I didn’t kill him,” Fuller stuttered, turning back to look at the two agents sitting opposite him. “I swear I had nothing to do with it.”

“He’s lying,” Jane said, dismissing the doctor’s frantic claims with a wave of his hand. “You might as well arrest him now, Agent Cho. Save us all the time. He is clearly a disciple of Red John too,” Jane stood up making his way to the exit. Cho stood up from the desk as though he was really acting on Jane’s orders.

“Mason Andrew Fuller, you are under arrest for the murder of-…”

“No, no, wait, wait… okay you’re right.” Jane paused from leaving the room, shutting the door behind him, knowing putting the fear of god into the doctor would get the skittish man talking.

“Yes, okay, I will admit I do know something but I swear to god that I didn’t kill Michael and I have nothing to do with that serial killer. I swear to you. I don’t. I didn’t kill Michael…” Fuller pleaded honestly, as tears and fear filled his eyes.

“But you know who did, don’t you?” Lisbon asked as Cho and Jane retook their seats at the desk.

Fuller nodded his head in shame.

“Who was it Mr. Fuller? Who killed Michael Kirkland?” Lisbon continued playing the good cop in the three of them.

“He did,” Fuller sobbed. “Michael killed himself…”

Jane, Lisbon and Cho all glanced towards each other, a little taken aback by the doctor’s claims. The doctor put his head in his hands. After a few moments he looked back up.

“I tried to stop to him. I tried to pull the gun away but Mike was much stronger than me and I ended up on the floor… and he pulled the trigger…. all I could do was watch as his blew his own brains out.” Fuller’s tears ran down his face as he wiped his running nose on his shirt sleeve.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened, Mason. From the beginning,” Cho said, seeing the man was in clear distress and was telling them the truth finally.

“It was late one night. I was doing some leftover paperwork at the office when Michael turned up. He had been beaten badly; he wasn’t talking much sense. He said that they were after him and that he needed a place to hide for the night.”

“Who was after him?” Cho asked.

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t say at first. He just kept repeating about how he needed to get to his brother’s place in Sacramento. That he needed to speak to Rob urgently. That Rob would know what to do and could help him. I sat him down, cleaned him up best I could. He was bleeding pretty badly; he had a grazed gunshot wound to his left arm, a few broken ribs, and his face was badly beaten and bleeding. He had been attacked pretty bad. Then I saw the gun in his jacket pocket. When I questioned him he said ‘SHE’ had given it to him to help him get away.”

“She?” Lisbon repeated, guessing this involved Lorelei Martins somehow.

“Yeah. Some woman he was with at the time. Uh Laura... Laurel. I think.”

“Lorelei.”

“Yeah that was it… He said it had been two men and he managed to shoot one and get away. I assumed he had gotten drunk and started a fight somewhere like he normally did. I hadn’t seen Mike in months. He had stopped coming to see me by that time.

“I gave him a glass of whiskey to calm him down; he was too hyped up and restless and it was making him bleed out more. After a strong drink he calmed down and began to talk more sense.  I tried to convince him to call the police but he went mad shouting that THEY were the police and he couldn’t trust anyone except his brother.

“He said that the men after him were dangerous. Really, really dangerous and evil. That his life was on the line and that his time was finally up. I let him make a phone to his brother Robert but he got his answer phone.”

“Do you remember what message he left?” Lisbon asked curiously.

“Uh, something about he had information on something big and that Rob needed to be careful. He asked Rob to tell Lorelei thank you and that he loved her.”

Fuller took a sip of his water to try to quench his dry thirst as the three of them watched him closely.

“That’s when Mike started talking like it was a final goodbye. Telling me to look out for his brother, how grateful he had been for my friendship all these years. That he never deserved to be happy like Rob did. He claimed he was a bad person and had done some terrible things and this was his punishment. He said he was a no good son of a bitch. He said that despite what it may seem he was truly sorry for everything he had done.

“Then he pulled his gun out of his jacket and tried to put it in his mouth but I lunged for him telling him that things would be okay and that he didn’t have to do this. That I would help him. That his brother Rob would help him no matter what he had got messed up in. That he wasn’t alone…

“We fought for a few minutes but he overpowered me and punched me in the gut. I fell back on to the floor from the force, giving Mike the opportunity to pull the trigger...

“Then… His body just slumped to the floor.” Fuller’s tears fell again as his voice broke reliving that awful moment of watching his friend take his own life. “He shot himself. There was blood everywhere… one of my oldest friends… gone just like that. Forever.”

“Then what did you do?” Cho probed.

“I panicked…I thought I would be charged with his murder. My prints were all over the gun. My wife had just had twins, she needed me. I couldn’t go to prison. I was scared,” Fuller said desperately. “Mike had said these people were the police, that they were corrupt and would kill anyone in the way. So I wrapped Mike up in my office rug and took him out to the trunk of my car. I drove for about hour… I found some waste ground and I buried him.

“I got rid of all his clothes, ID, and stuff, burning them all when I got home. Destroyed any records I had of Michael’s therapy over the years. He was a reclusive drunk most of the time and would go AWOL for weeks, so I thought that his brother would just put it down to Mike being Mike… and he did, for a while.

“But then Rob came looking for him and the guilt started to get to me. I decided I was going to go to his brother and confess to him what had happened and tell him where Mike was buried…” Fuller trailed off hanging his head down again in shame.

“But?” Jane added.

“But… then I got this note. It had the words ‘Some things are best kept secret. Some things are best kept buried.’”

“Was that all?” Jane asked.

“No. It had a small red smiley face in blood at the bottom. That’s when I knew. I had seen the news. That psycho was killing locally in the Napa area. These people Michael was talking about knew what I had done.

“So I had no choice than take my family and leave Napa. Get away. Keep them safe somehow. And so I did…. I never meant to hurt anyone,” Fuller said, openly weeping. “I swear I never meant for Michael to end his life that way, and I tried my hardest to stop him.  I did, I promise you. He was so scared for own his life… that he took it.  I never meant for anyone to get hurt… I never meant for any of this…I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry. I am sorry.”

Mason Fuller dropped his head into his hands, letting out ten years of guilt-ridden lies and secrets and repeating the words sorry. The sound of Dr. Fuller’s sobs filled the small investigation room. Jane leaned forward and patted the doctor softly on the shoulder, realizing that whilst the doctor had made a major error in judgment when Kirkland had shot himself, none of this was his fault. It was Red John’s.

Thomas McAllister was the only man responsible for this terrible mess.

                                                    FLASHBACK

Tuesday, 23rd October: 23:37 pm

Sheriff McAllister sat in his patrol car ignoring the noisy locals walking past him. The only reason he was working tonight was because he had to have a firm alibi to cover his tracks. His cell phone vibrated into life against the vehicle dashboard.

“What!” he snapped, seeing the name on the screen as he answered the call.

“Boss, we got a problem. Kirkland got away!”  answered a gruff voice down the phone. The bastard had a gun, and he shot Bill in the leg.”

“He what? Where the hell did he get a gun from?” McAllister shouted.

“Don’t know, boss.”

“You don’t know? Well, find the hell out! And find Kirkland. And when you do make sure and bring that lousy son of a bitch directly to me. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” the young cop said, swallowing nervously at his angry superior.

“And what about her boss?”

“What about her?”

“Well you did beat her pretty hard, looks like she may have broken ribs?”

“Oh I am sorry…” McAllister chuckled making his tone much lighter.  Are you a doctor now?”

Changing his tone back to livid, he continued, “Because the last time I looked you were a police sergeant with an ego problem. Leave the whore where she is. She needs to be taught a lesson. They were weak. Love is for the weak. Find Michael Kirkland and bring him to me before he gets to that brother of his and brings us all down. Do I make myself clear?”

McAllister angrily flipped his cell phone together and yanked shut the door of his squad car.  

“I am surrounded by complete morons. Want a job doing, do it bloody yourself,” McAllister muttered speeding his car back up on to the main highway, leaving a cloud dust behind him.

He needed to find Michael Kirkland before he opened his mouth and ruined everything he had worked so hard to achieve these past few years. Plus, Michael was one of the only few people in this world to know his true identity. Red John.

The man was a liability, and he was weak. He always had been. He believed he could mold Michael Kirkland, change him to be more than he believed himself to be, but underneath it all Michael was just a weak minded fool who allowed a woman to rule his head in the end.

All that time and energy wasted on him and for what! McAllister thought to himself, his own mind racing to where he needed to go to look for Kirkland. He knew going to his brother wasn’t an option. Agent Kirkland was currently working a Homeland Security case abroad in Ecuador. It was one of the reasons why he ordered Michael’s death. By the time his nosey FED brother came looking for him he’d be long dealt with and all evidence covered.

Suddenly a grin spread across McAllister’s face as the penny dropped working out exactly who Michael would run to if he needed help. The only other person besides his twin that he trusted. His old friend and shrink. Dr. Fuller.

Twenty minutes later McAllister pulled his police car outside the surgery. Pulling out his trusty knife and making sure his gun was inclined in case he needed a plan B, McAllister glanced around the street, making sure there were no witnesses to his arrival, not that he was that worried. He was the law after all. Everyone trusted the police as he learned nicely from his past victims over the years.

Suddenly his eyes were drawn to a dark figure moving down the alley at the side of the building. Catching a glimpse of the doctor stuffing something heavy in to the trunk of his Mercedes, he decided to sit back and see how this was all going to pan out. McAllister watched closely as the doctor slowly drove away into the night, not seeing the police car parked across the dark street.

Putting his squad car into drive and leaving the headlights off, making sure he kept a fair distance so not to alert the doctor to his presence, McAllister followed the Mercedes out of Redmington.

A fifty-five-minute drive later, the doctor finally pulled up to a dark desert clearing out in the countryside. They were miles from the nearest town and surrounded by the beautiful wilderness of Napa Valley. McAllister parked the car a half mile back to watch the doctor’s strange behavior. Exiting his vehicle silently, the sheriff made his way to the front of the vehicle so he could lean against the bonnet to watch.

The doctor left his full beams on for some light in the complete darkness surrounding them and began digging a hole a few feet ahead of the vehicle. Another twenty minutes, McAllister was getting bored of waiting and was about to approach the frantic man. This doctor would know where Kirkland was hiding for sure and once he had told him where he was, he would kill him. Not the female type of victim he normally looked for in his victims, but the doctor would satisfy his need to kill for a while.

As McAllister pushed off the car bonnet he saw the doctor finally climb out of the hole and move to the trunk. In the darkness,he lost sight of him until the doctor came into the full beam of the Mercedes headlights again. The lifeless body of Michael Kirkland rolled out of the rug and down into the shallow grave.

“Huh? Well. Would you look at that? He’s gone and done the job for me,” McAllister chuckled under his breath happily observing the doctor undressing Kirkland’s body. “Maybe I should recruit this guy as one of my devotees.”

McAllister keenly watched as the doctor bent down breaking into uncontrollable sobs placing a tender kiss to Kirkland’s dead forehead. “Or maybe not,” he sarcastically rolled his eyes at the display of love and affection from the crying doctor to his own man.

Deciding that killing the doctor now would only raise more questions as to Kirkland’s sudden disappearance, he decided to leave the doctor be. Besides who knows, Doctor Fuller could come in handy in the future if he ever needed one for something more underhanded and illegal.

Sherriff McAllister climbed back into his patrol car to make his way back to Redmington. His cell phone on the passenger seat sprung to life again and he rolled his eyes at the name on the screen again.

“What now? No, I told you to leave her where she is.” McAllister shut his eyes trying to contain his rage. “Of course, she is in a bad way… I beat her up.”

“Fine… take Bill and that little whore and go get them sorted out.”

“NO, not to a hospital you fool. Too many questions. Take her to Stiles and his whack jobs. He will get them both fixed up. Tell him he owes me…. Hello? Hello? Crap... lost the reception.”

McAllister started his car and drove back to town. After ten minutes he felt the tug of the steering wheel veering the car over to the right. He slowed the vehicle to a complete stop jumping out to see the front tire had punctured.

“Oh, you son of!” he exclaimed, kicking the tire in anger, knowing it was well past midnight and he was in the middle of nowhere with no cell reception. He may just have to go back and kill the doctor just to get a ride back to civilization.

It was then he heard the faint sound of a piano being played. He looked around in the darkness completely baffled by the music drifting through the warm night air. It was then his eyes narrowed seeing a large dark house up on the hillside in front of him. Shutting off the car engine, he pulled out his knife wondering what sweet delights he would find at this home.

He finally made his way up to the dark house with the music now very audible and the sound of a woman’s voice humming along with the notes. A wicked evil grin spread across McAllister’s face as he pulled his special knife out of his back pocket. Maybe he would get his favorite kind of kill tonight like he so enjoyed. He wrapped his knuckles hard against the wood of the door. The piano music instantly stopped and he heard slow moving footsteps approaching the front door. Hiding the knife behind his back and straightening his beige Sheriff’s hat, he prepared himself to put on his caring trusty Sheriff act.

The front door opened and he watched as the woman fumbled trying to put on the hallway light. As the light in the hall came on it took a few seconds for McAllister’s eyes to adjust to the brightness. Suddenly he saw a red haired woman standing in the doorway greeting him. He was unable to see her face fully because of the brightness of the light behind her.

“Hi ma’am. I have got a flat tire and have broken down. May I be so kind as to use your phone to call someone to come get me?” McAllister said smoothly, hoping his Sheriff’s uniform would put the woman at ease allowing him access into her house.

“Sure you can, please, come in.” The sweet lady stepped aside, allowing him access. McAllister entered the large style house, spotting the beautiful grand piano she had been playing on moments before. “Let me put some lights on for you. I don’t get many visitors out here you see.”

It was when she switched on the main living area light McAllister realized why she had been sitting in the dark playing her music. She was blind.

“Really?” I don’t believe that,” he added, looking around the house curious to see if anyone else was around. “You live here alone?” he enquired eagerly.

As the blind lady made her way into the main living area she smiled a sweet smile at the Sherriff, holding her hand out for the polite police man to shake.

“Yes, it’s just me out here. My name’s Rosalind.”

McAllister slowly shook the younger woman’s hand, instantly drawn to her for some reason.

“Rosalind? What a lovely name. My name is Roy…”

                                                           FIN

Writer: @brooklyn6666 

 Art provided by: @miwakosato and @beautywithin16

We don’t own TM. 2016.

[mentalistvirtual8-blog]

                                             ALABASTER PLASTER

                                             SEASON 8, EPISODE 4

                                                        TEASER

Her fingertips spread out across the satin sheets, looking for the intimate warmth of skin she had become accustomed to finding. She had every intention of curling up against him in hopes she could fall back to sleep before either being called in hastily or Liam waking up and crying out, as he was still teething and uncomfortable. Her eyes opened just enough to see that his half of the bed was unoccupied, the covers flung over the side of the mattress without much care. Her half-lidded eyes opened wider as she shifted herself into a sitting position, setting her back against the rigid headboard.

In the stillness of the room, she became aware of a faint sound somewhere down the hall. Rubbing a hand over her face, she pulled back the covers and stood, yawning and stretching her sleep-tightened muscles. She moved toward the sound which brought her out of their room and into the hall. She could hear it clearly now; a small, quiet humming coming from Liam’s nursery across the hall. She thought it rather sounded like the song ‘Little Boy Blue’. She peered inside the room, the small light on the small table next to a rocking chair tucked away in the corner illuminated the room in dim, filtered light. Lisbon smiled at the sight before her, leaning against the door jamb and crossing her arms.

Jane sat in the rocking chair, their son pushed firmly against his chest, his hand rubbing Liam’s back in small circles as he hummed the song to him, rocking the chair slightly as if in an untamed wind. There was a pacifier on the table beside him, and Liam was sound asleep in his father’s arms.

“Did I wake you?” Jane whispered, laying off the humming and finding her profile in the gentleness of the table lamp light. “I’m sorry.”

Lisbon shook her head, lifting herself from the doorway and walking toward her husband and son. She closed the gap quickly between them, reaching a hand out to push through Jane’s sleep-pressed blond curls.

“No,” she whispered back. “You didn’t wake me. I reached for you and you were gone,” she told him. “I didn’t even hear Liam wake. Was he crying?”

Jane looked up at her and nodded softly, as to not disturb the baby. “A little,” he answered. “Sore gums.”

“You could have woken me up, Jane,” Lisbon told her husband, giving him a terse squeeze. “I would have tended to him. Got him to go back to sleep.”

He reached up with the hand that was caressing their son’s back and touched her elbow. “You’ve been working a lot, Teresa. You deserve some beauty sleep. Besides,” he said, turning back to Liam’s sleeping form, “I wanted to.”

“What were you humming?” she asked. “It sounded suspiciously like ‘Little Boy Blue’,” she added with a laugh.

“It was,” he replied. “I was singing the words until he fell asleep. I heard you singing it to him once,” Jane assured her. “Not really sure whether my singing did him in with the sleeping, or if he was just that tired.” Jane laughed and Lisbon joined in almost noiselessly as to not wake the baby.

She was about to reply to his humorous pondering when she heard the shrill of her ringing cell phone from across the hall. She sighed heavily, knowing there could only be one person making a call in the middle of the night. Lisbon bent down and gave her husband a kiss on the lips and then set a small peck on her son’s blond, curly locks.

“Duty calls,” Jane told her, reaching his free hand out to push a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face back behind her ear. He gave her kiss and whispered that he loved her.

Lisbon whispered it back and rubbed her son’s back before raising herself and walking quickly through the nursery and crossing into her room to pick up her phone. She noted with a sour expression that the bedside clock read 3:02 am.

“Lisbon,” she greeted as soon as she put the phone to her ear. “Ashmore Garden Condominiums?” Lisbon sighed. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

“The new recruit starts today, doesn’t she?” Jane asked as Lisbon hung up the phone, coming into the room after putting Liam back down in his crib. “Should be interesting for you guys.”

“Yeah,” Lisbon told him. “Her name is Sandra Philips. Cho says she hails from the New Mexico office, " she added as she dressed quickly, throwing him a rueful smile as he watched.

“Interesting,” Jane replied. “So, where are you headed off to this time?” He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled at the loops of her jeans, bringing her forward to settle between his pajama-clad legs. “Another embezzlement case?”

She shook her head, resting her hands on his biceps as he looked up at her. “No,” she finally said. “A murder at a high-rise apartment.”

“Oh,” answered Jane. “Are you going to need me? I can drop Liam off at the daycare…”

“Don’t wake him, Jane. Let him sleep. I’ve got to go, Patrick,” Lisbon told him, bending herself to kiss him on the lips. “If I need you, I will call. If not, I’ll be home for lunch, okay? Try to give him a bath when he wakes up. I’m going to go say goodbye to Liam and head out.”

Jane kissed her back, his hand floating up to lock in her chestnut hair framing her face. “Okay,” he said between kisses. “I love you. Be careful.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered, shoving one more quick kiss across his lips before grabbing her badge and coat off the dresser. “Don’t teach him how to pick pockets while I am gone.”

He laughed as he watched her dash toward the door. She turned back around, blew him a kiss, and disappeared across the hall, where he could hear her softly talking to their sleeping son. Finally, after a few minutes, he heard the front door click shut, and the cabin was once again stuck in silence.

An hour and a half later at the crime scene, Lisbon looked from Cho to Wylie to Tork and back down at the body lying on the floor over a particularly large, dried amount of blood. Well, not exactly a body—more of a badly decomposed pile of flesh and bone wearing tattered and dusty bits of cloth; whatever didn’t fade and turn to dust off the long deceased corpse.

She turned from the three agents, her mind trying to gather what exactly was going on here. Since she was called to the scene just a little while ago, there was little any of them could figure out. The pile of flesh and bone—who could not be differentiated if male or female—had been in a locked room in a large condominium set high above the Austin skyline. She walked stiffly over to the door that had been locked from the inside, checking it for any pry marks from some kind of tools. There were none, and she could feel the eyes of the three agents on the back of her skull as she heaved a deep sigh and turned to the window. But that, too, was of no help. The window was closed and latched shut, and even if it hadn’t been, there was no way for anyone to get to the room from outside; there were no balconies or fire escapes leading down twenty-five floors to the bottom.

“Tell me again why the FBI is on this case?” she asked with a moan. “Do we actually know if this was a murder? It seems like nobody was able to get in. Maybe he or she died of a medical event. And why is it so cold in here?”

“It was called in as a possible murder, Lisbon,” Cho reminded her. “We have to investigate it like it is.” He watched her yawn tremendously as she sidestepped the body and placed her hands on her slim hips. “Long night? Kid still teething?”

“Liam is teething still, yeah,” she replied, pushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “Not as bad as his first tooth, though. He was fussy last night. Jane just got him back down when you called.” She bit her lip and frowned. “He wouldn’t sleep without Ducky.” She landed a reproachful look at Wylie. “So, what do we do now?”

“That would be my introduction,” Dr. Anna Rosales said from behind her. “I should have some answers for you, even in my preliminary findings here.”

Lisbon turned to Dr. Rosales and noticed from the corner of her eye that Cho fixed his tie and unconsciously cleared his throat as she entered. She was fairly certain that Cho and Dr. Rosales were now seeing each other. She remembered the remark she made to herself about how they mirrored herself and Jane when they first started dating; Jane tidying himself and donning his suit once more, and Lisbon feeling confident, yet trying to be inconspicuously herself, not giving too much away of their romance. She rather thought it was cute.

“Dr. Rosales,” greeted Lisbon. “Did Cho call you down here?” She smirked and stole a glance at her boss.

Rosales smiled and knelt down next to the body, turning toward Lisbon as she slapped on her plastic gloves. “He did,” she replied. “Apparently he has me on speed dial.” Lisbon smiled at her answer and watched as she carefully struck out a gloved hand, feeling the hip bones, tracing her fingers down to the exposed femur. She brought her hand back up and felt the exposed rib cage.

“I can only tell you what I see from visual examination of the bone structure, but I would say this person is probably, in my hasty opinion, anywhere from twenty-five to thirty-five years of age.” She turned herself and looked up at the three agents gathered around in front of her. “Best guess until I can examine the bones more thoroughly.”

“What about the sex?” Cho asked her. “Can you tell if it is male or female?”

Rosales glanced back down at the body and brought her gloved hand to the pelvic bone, gliding her fingers along the jagged bones. “Based on the pelvic region, I would say female. Again, I can’t be exactly sure until she or he is back at my lab.”

“Alright,” Wylie replied. “So we have a female around twenty-five or so,” he repeated. “But is this a murder? How can we be sure it isn’t just a heart attack or stroke?”

“She’s got a knife wound in her chest,” Rosales told them, pointing at a small hole just over where the breast bone would be. “She’s a murder victim all right!”

“Couldn’t she have done this to herself?” Tork asked. “Like some kind of suicide?”

Cho bent down next to the body on the other side and looked up at Rosales. Lisbon noticed that Cho was a lot less rattled then their first meeting; she also noticed a faint smile cross his face when she looked at him. She was happy for him. Well, she thought he deserved someone to challenge his stoic personality. Dr. Rosales was just such a person.

“This was murder, Kimball,” she told him. “See,” she said, looking down at the chest area and pointing. “There’s stippling in the bone. It was a close stab. Besides, where is the weapon? Wouldn’t it be here if she killed herself? Who stabs themselves, anyway, in a world full of guns and pills?”

Kimball. Oh, la la! Lisbon thought.

“But the room was locked up tight,” Lisbon told her. “The local PD had to break down the door. It was padlocked, and the window shut as it is now. How did anyone get out after killing this woman?”

Dr. Rosales lifted herself and unrolled the gloves off her hands. She shrugged her small shoulders and put a hand to her neck. “You guys are the investigators,” she told Lisbon with a wink. “But this woman, I am fairly certain, was murdered.” Dr. Rosales turned to Cho. “I can get you how long this body has been here when it’s brought to my lab. I would say, though, judging from the lack of flesh, that this body is at least six months old.”

“Thanks, Anna,” Cho replied. “Dr. Rosales,” he amended.

“Sure!” And she exited the room.

Cho looked up at Lisbon and stood, putting his hands in his pockets. “This would be—” he started to say.

“I’m on it,” she cut in, turning from her boss and reaching into her jeans pocket for her cell phone. She dialed quickly and waited for him to pick up on the other end.

“Hello?” Jane’s voice called out in the midst of Liam’s cackling. “Teresa?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” she answered. “What in the world are you two doing?” she asked, listening as Liam’s voice grew louder and she heard a loud sound that followed which she thought sounded an awful lot like water pouring over.

“Uh,” said Jane, his voice diminishing momentarily. “I am trying to give our son a bath, but he’s decided that the water would be better suited all over the floor—no, Liam! Honey! Don’t throw that!” Lisbon heard a plunk and a laugh from Liam. “How much did you love that soap dispenser?” he asked Lisbon.

“Look, can you finish bathing the baby and come down here to the Ashmore Garden condos?” she asked. “I think we are going to need your skills, here. Besides, this is right up your alley.”

“Wait! Wait! Hold on a second!” Jane said.

Lisbon could hear a muffling of the phone and Liam laughing before her phone vibrated in her hand. She lifted it from her ear and looked down, finding Jane had sent a selfie of himself in his wet shirt, and their son, who was playing in the water in their kitchen sink, bubbles piled on his face like a white beard. She laughed and shook her head, returning her phone to her ear.

“That is adorable,” she told her husband. “You look wetter than he is!” She felt the familiar pang she always felt when Jane sent her pictures of Liam; the pang of his little warm, baby-powder scented body pressed into her arms.

“Oh, I think the floor has both of us beat,” he answered. “He wanted to show mommy his beard. I think he looks dashing, but I told him I think you’d find it scratchy for those mommy kisses you give him.”

“Shave it, mister!” Lisbon laughed again. “Come down here. I will show you this weird case. Like, I said, it’s up your alley!”

“Oh! I am titillated,” Jane said. “Just let me get this little one dried off and I’ll be right there. What kind of case is it?” She heard her son laugh again followed by the water dripping sound and Jane exhaling noisily.

“It’s right out of an Agatha Christie novel, Jane,” she told him. “The mystery of the murder in a locked room.” She waited for him to reply. “Jane? Don’t forget to drop Liam off at daycare!”  When she got no answer, she hung up and turned back to Cho, who was staring at her. “What?”

“It’s weird,” he told her. “This case is weird. I don’t like weird.”

“Jane’s weird.” She meant that with pure fondness, of course.

He thought about that for a second. “Yeah. You are right. I am going to have Wylie and Tork interview the neighbors on either side, and the one who called a welfare-check. You and Jane can see what you can figure out when he gets down here.”

“And you?”

“I’ll arrange for Dr. Rosales to get the body,” he said. “Take a look at it.”

Lisbon smirked at him as he left the room. She turned her attention to the body on the floor and sighed.

“What surprises do you hold?” she asked the corpse. “What could you possibly be hiding?”

                                                        ACT ONE

Jane strode out of the elevator on the twenty-fifth floor of the Ashmore Garden condos, his old brown shoes squeaking on the Italian tiled floor. He followed the trail of detectives and local police, bypassing Wylie and Tork, both of whom were interviewing a separate individual. On down the hall further, Cho was speaking with two men who were wheeling a body bag down toward the service elevator at the other end of the hall.

Jane turned himself into the open door of apartment number 717, smiling to himself as he viewed his wife inspecting the window sill, her chestnut hair done up in a small bun on top of her head—a classic sign that she was in full concentration, but things weren’t clicking. He looked around the room as he neared her, observing that the place was practically unfurnished. The only thing he could detect in the apartment’s front rooms were a bloody rug and an acrid, decayed smell that he knew to be the odor of death.

“Well, this is quite a puzzle,” he told her, placing a hand on the small of her back, effectively startling her. “Sorry,” he apologized quickly. “You just seemed deep in thought.”

She turned her head toward him and shook it. “This crime scene doesn’t make any sense, Jane.” She nodded back toward the window she was surveying earlier. “It’s closed and latched, plus there is a straight drop down to the ground from here.”

“Ah, I do enjoy a good puzzle,” he told her, releasing her back and walking back over to the door and bending to take a look at the smashed door jamb and padlock. “Interesting.”

“I hate when you do that crap,” Lisbon moaned. “Interesting how, Jane? We have a rotten corpse—a stabbed corpse—with no means for the killer to leave. Interesting is the last thing I would say about this case.” She walked over as he drew back from the door and turned to flash a smile at her.

“You are just a bit cranky because Liam has been fussy lately with his sore gums and you feel guilty about dragging me on this case and putting him with the ladies at the daycare,” he said, cold-reading her. “You feel bad about that. Understandable, Teresa.”

She scowled at him. “I hate when you do that!” She sighed deeply. “But, yet again, you are right. I just don’t think he likes being away from you or me when he isn’t feeling well.”

He reached out his hands and placed them on her shoulders. He leaned down just a touch and then moved his hands to her cheeks. Rubbing them slightly, he nodded his head in understanding.

“I know you don’t,” he replied. “I don’t, either. But we can’t crowd him all the time, Teresa. I told you before. I don’t want to be one of those dads who huddles over our son just because of what happened to Charlotte. Plus, he’s a little charmer. Loves the ladies.” He smiled widely again. “Besides, he has Ducky with him. He’s fine.”

“You’re right,” she whispered. “This is my first rodeo, Jane. I’m going to be so maternal it will drive you nuts!”

“I know,” he whispered back, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “But let us crack this impossible looking case and go home to our son, okay?”

“Okay,” she acquiesced. She gave him a chaste kiss and he let go of her face, turning herself around to look around the room. “Kind of bare in here. No furniture.”

He walked around the room and agreed. “Bare for someone found dead in it,” he answered. “Nothing. No paintings on the wall, no couches or chairs.” He shook his head. “Whoever your victim is didn’t live here. Nobody did.”

“You think it was someone not from this apartment complex?”

“Maybe,” responded Jane. “Maybe not.” He heard her groan at his answer and he shrugged. “But one thing is for sure; whoever killed your victim knew this place would never be opened. In fact, it’s more than likely it was used as a model apartment.”

“That could explain the lack of furniture and mail piling up,” Lisbon agreed. “What about the deadbolt on the inside being engaged? Why would our victim, who Dr. Rosales assured me was murdered by stabbing, deadbolt the door first?”

“I don’t know that answer yet,” he admitted, reaching up for the window latch and shaking it to make sure it was secure. “But I will know more when I can talk to the people Tork and Wylie are interviewing.”

“You want to interview them?”

“Sure,” he told her, turning to face her as he drew away from the locked window. “I would also like to know who the victim is so we can find any family for her. Could be a good way to start, I think.” He turned to the wall next to the window and began knocking on the drywall with his knuckles.

“What are you doing?” Lisbon asked her husband curiously as he made his way a quarter down the length of the wall.

“Looking for wall trolls,” cracked Jane slyly.

Before Lisbon could counter, Tork strode inside the room. He was clicking his pen with his thumb and wearing a casual smile that Jane thought was befitting of him. He stopped short of them and pointed toward the bustling hallway behind them.

“Cho wants you guys,” he told them. “He’s getting all of us together in the hall.”

“Okay,” Lisbon told her colleague. “Did you get anything from the neighbors?”

Tork held up a finger for them to hold on, and reached inside his jacket pocket for a small black notebook. He flipped toward the back and looked up at the two of them. “Daniel Tullin. He says he doesn’t know anything. He says he works a lot and didn’t know anything until he heard the kicking of the door by the local cops that disturbed his sleep. Big bunch of nothing,” he told them, shutting the notebook and shoving it back in his pocket.

“Meh, don’t be so quick to throw in the towel, Tork. I’d like to interview him,” Jane piped up.

“Alright,” Tork said with a shrug. “But you’ll have to wait until Cho finishes with us.”

They followed Tork out into the hallway, noticing that the bustle of local cops and techs and FBI had trickled down to just a few crime scene techs and their team. Jane noticed that Mr. Tullin, the neighbor that Tork had been interviewing, turned and went back into his apartment, closing the door behind him with a snap. Jane put that away for later. He turned his attention back to Cho.

“Okay,” Cho said. “We don’t have much going here. The body has been taken down to Dr. Rosales’ lab for analysis. I think I will go down there and see what is going on with that. Tork, you can come along. Lisbon, Jane, I think—”

“I want to interview the neighbors again,” Jane interrupted. “I want to read them myself.”

“Fine,” agreed Cho. “You two can interview the neighbors, but then I want you down at the field office checking on the records for the condo. I want to know who owned it before.”

“Okay, but you’ll find nobody owned it,” Jane told him. “It’s a model.”

“Wylie,” he said, turning to the young agent, “I need you to go back to the office and standby. Hopefully, I will have a name to give you on the victim. You can run her through the database.”

Wylie nodded as Cho looked around Lisbon and tilted his head infinitesimally. Following Cho’s gaze, she saw that a well-dressed woman was walking toward them, a smile planted on her dark complexioned face. Lisbon could see that she had short black hair framing her beautiful face, and held an air of importance and confidence in her walk. She immediately struck out her hand when she met them, taking Lisbon’s small hand in hers before turning to Cho and firmly shaking his.

“Sandra Philips,” she introduced. “I’m the new recruit! It’s great to be working for the FBI and with this team. I’ve heard great things about it,” Sandra told them. “I presume you are Teresa Lisbon,” she nodded at her, “and you are my boss, Kimball Cho.”

Lisbon looked over the new Agent. She had read her file, anticipating her arrival, in order to gain more insight on the new part of their team. Sandra Philips was 36-years-old, divorced with no kids. From her files, Lisbon gathered that Sandra had an extensive history with the local police departments where she had resided, finally choosing to try her luck at the Federal level. For Lisbon, the only thing she was really interested in about Sandra Philips was how she’d handle Jane’s methods.

“Sandra,” Lisbon repeated. “Nice to meet you.”

“Agent Philips,” Jane repeated, throwing out a hand for her to shake. “Patrick Jane. Welcome to our humble team.”

She looked at Jane for a long moment, keeping her hand in his before finally dropping it. “Sorry about the circumstances for introductions, but I wanted to come down here and see how you operate,” Sandra told them. “I am eager to learn.”

“Well, we can put you to work right away, Agent Philips,” Cho told her. He pointed to Tork and then Wylie.  “Agent Tork, Agent Wylie,” Cho said, pointing back at Philips. “This is our new team member, Agent Sandra Philips. Wylie, why don’t you fill her in on what we know?”

“Hi!” Wylie greeted Philips with a wide smile. “I am the tech wizard of the group. The axiomatic nerd.”

“Who needs to head back to the office,” Cho replied with a pointed look. “Why don’t you take Agent Philips with you? You could fill her in and show her around the office?”

“You said you’re Patrick Jane?” She flashed her teeth in a toothy grin towards Jane. “You’re quite legendary in the New Mexico FBI. It’s nice to match a face with the reputation.”

“You flatter me,” replied Jane scrupulously. “Was it my mounds of complaints? The sea of pink slips in my file?”

She laughed at his humor. “It was your case. The one in which you sought and served your own justice,” she said. “I am sorry,” she said off his look. “I didn’t mean to bring it up. My apologies.”

“Not at all,” Jane told her. “But I do have to get to interviewing these neighbors. Maybe add a complaint or two to my file…”

“It was nice to meet you, Agent Lisbon, Mr. Jane,” she told them, turning from them and following Cho, Tork, and Wylie toward the elevators.

Jane and Lisbon watched them fade into the elevator before turning and heading to apartment 718. Lisbon knocked on Mr. Daniel Tullin's door, holding up her FBI ID when he answered a moment later.

“Can we come in and ask you a few questions, sir?” Lisbon asked Mr. Tullin.

Mr. Tullin was a balding man; about fifty years of age, pudgy in the mid-section and broad shouldered. Lisbon noticed that he seemed a little nervous. Not exactly a tell-tale sign of any guilt, but it was unusual that someone who was only being questioned about a crime next door to display.

“Come in,” Tullin told them, opening the door for them as he walked into his living room. “It’s just horrible about what happened.”

“Did you hear or see anything from next door, Mr. Tullin?” Jane asked. His eyes looked around Tullin's apartment. It was cluttered, but neatly so. “Anything suspicious? Arguing or any loud noises?”

Tullin shook his bare head. “No. But I work a lot, you see. I am not home very much.”

“What do you do for a living, Mr. Tullin?” Lisbon asked. She noticed he was still quite nervous.

Tullin beamed at her and sat down on the small couch just behind him. “I am a Professor at Austin Collegiate,” he explained. “I teach Parapsychology. I am teaching all the time. Night school and day school. I didn’t see anything or hear anything, but that isn’t unusual. When I am home, I sleep.”

“You teach people about ghosts?” Jane snorted. “Dead sleeper?”

“I know it seems silly, but there are things we just don’t know in the world. Finding a body in a locked room is certainly one of those. And, yes, dead to the world,” Tullin agreed.

“No mystery in that,” Jane told him. “Someone offed that poor soul. Unless you think ghosts did it?” Tullin didn’t answer. “Did you know of anyone who was living adjacent to you?”

Tullin grimaced and tilted his head. “I don’t recall anyone living there. It’s used as a model apartment for interested clients,” he clarified. “It’s mostly been empty from what I remember.”

Lisbon looked at Jane who smirked at his correct guess that the apartment was used to model. Jane turned back to the pale plaster wall facing the apartment where the body was found and took his knuckles to it, bypassing a large oil painting that hung on the wall. It was sound. He stretched out his fingers and felt the wall, looking for any signs of air flowing through to indicate holes, but he only felt the warmth of Tullin's interior.

“Do you know the tenant to the left of the apartment? Do you know them on a personal level?” inquired Lisbon.

“Noel Moreno?” Tullin nodded his head. “Sure. She’s lived here ever since I have. I’d say she moved in a few months before me.”

“How long has that been?”

“About four years.” He laughed. “Seems more than that. Yeah, she moved in a few months before me. Nice lady. I don’t really speak to her much, though. I think she’s the floor manager. You know? Shows off the model apartment?”

“Thank you for answering our questions, Professor Tullin,” Jane said, turning toward his wife. “I think we can go, Teresa.”

They said their goodbyes to Professor Tullin and exited his apartment, closing the door behind them tightly.

“Well?” she asked, walking slowly toward Noel Moreno’s apartment. “What do you think about Professor Tullin?”

Jane sighed. “We can’t rule him out.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s hiding something, Teresa,” he told her. “Something un-kosher.”

                                                         ACT TWO

“You can positively identify it as a female?” Cho asked, watching Dr. Rosales as she bent over to examine the pelvic bone of the badly aged and decomposed body from their crime scene.

She looked up at him and flashed a small smile. “I can, indeed, Kimball.” She straightened herself and pointed to the skull. “Her gonial angle and mental eminence shape is also indicative of a female, between the ages of twenty and thirty-five.”

Tork looked uncomfortable looking at the grossly deteriorated body lying openly on the examining table, bits of clothing and hair still stuck on the decayed body. He cleared his throat and turned his back a little to avoid the visual.

“Still convinced it is a murder?” he asked.

Dr. Rosales nodded, pointing to a cup on a table nearby which held some chipped bone. “Positive. I’ve seen my fair share of knife cuts in bone. I’d say it’s a butcher's knife, but then I am not the expert on that. It’s deteriorated, but you should be able to get that analyzed still.”

“Great,” Tork replied sardonically. “Who did it? Houdini?”

“I don’t know, but whoever did it made it awfully slow and painful,” Rosales remarked. “It would take hours for this kind of wound to be fatal. She most likely bled to death slowly. The room was cold when we entered it, which is why the smell didn’t wade through the floor after just a few days. It slowed decomposition and biological decay. The body, I'd estimate, is between six and eight months old.” Rosales looked back down at the body. “Dental wear suggests this woman is between twenty and thirty-five years old, matching the age range of her mental eminence shape. I’m comfortable with that estimation.”

“Any identifiable information pulled for this body?” Cho asked, his eyes on hers.

Dr. Rosales winked at Cho and reached down for the x-ray slides in a folder she had sitting on the counter next to the light box. Cho looked sideways at Tork, who was smiling a big, goofy grin at the stoic agent.

“No judgement,” Tork murmured. “You two are totally seeing each other.”

“Shut up, Tork,” Cho commanded.  Tork put his hands up in defense.

“You see these x-rays? See how Periodontitis has set in on her lower gums?” She looked back at the two agents and pointed to the clearly damaged area. “Well, I found a match after requesting her dental records from her dentist.” She reached into the folder and produced another x-ray, placing it next to the other. It clearly matched.

“You have a name, then?”

Dr. Rosales bowed her head. “Your victim is Dakota Ketchum. From her dental records, she is twenty-nine, Hispanic heritage, and deceased. I found her name by this.” She handed Cho a small, faded bracelet that had Dakota Ketchum engraved on it.

“Medical bracelet?” Cho asked.

“Doesn’t appear to be so,” Anna replied. “More of a fashion statement. It’s inscribed on the inside. Probably a gift.” She sighed. “It was tucked away under the wrist.”

Cho handed it back and turned to Tork. “Call Wylie. Tell him to run Dakota Ketchum through the database and see if anything pops up. Tell him I want a previous address for her and any relatives still alive.”

Tork nodded in agreement and turned away from them to make the call. Cho turned back to Anna, who gave him a Manila folder with her findings inside. Her hand overlapped his on the end of the folder, giving him a meaningful look.

“How about I come over sometime this week?” she suggested. “We could watch a movie? I’ll bring the wine?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Alright,” he said. “Thursday. My place.”

“Eight?”

“Eight.”

Anna Rosales opened the lab door, leading Cho out and into the open hallway. She stopped and turned to him, reaching over and kissing the stoic agent on the lips, surprising him. He stood slack for a moment before returning the kiss to the anthropologist.

“See you at eight on Thursday, Kimball,” she said against his lips, pulling away and turning back into the lab to pack her tools away.

“Eight,” he repeated in a whisper, a rare smile folding over his face. “See you then, Anna.”

“You didn’t hear or see anything remotely odd at any point?” prodded Lisbon. “No sounds, screams, or anything like that?”

Noel Moreno frowned and pushed a hand through her black hair. “None. I am typically around because I am the floor manager. I keep everybody on the floor in check,” she explained.

They were sitting in her living room, Lisbon occupying the chair and Noel sitting on her white couch. Jane, as per his usual agenda, was walking around looking at the things in her apartment. He noticed that the place was incredibly immaculate; not a spot of dust or an object out of place. He moved behind Noel and Lisbon, taking his knuckles to the wall that connected to the murder scene next door.

“What is he doing?” Noel whispered to Lisbon. “He’s knocking on my walls. Why?”

“He does that,” Lisbon replied, looking behind Noel at Jane knocking on the wall, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. “He likes to touch things.”

“Oh,” she said simply. “I really didn’t see much. I told the young agent that already.”

“When was the last time you showed that condo to anyone? Checked in on it?” Jane asked, lowering his hands from her wall and turning to her. “That body was in there at least a while. Why didn’t you notice it? Check in on the place? Dust it, even?”

Noel narrowed her eyes at him as he came to stand in front of her, his finger tap-tap-tapping on his lips. She was silent for a few seconds before shrugging her slim shoulders.

“If management doesn’t notify me, I don’t bother. If someone wants a tour of the place before their final decision, I will go over there and tidy up. The economy hasn’t been good, agents. It’s been bad for a while. In fact, I haven’t shown the place in eight months.”

“You never went over there at all?” Lisbon asked, unconvinced.

“No.”

“You mentioned that you are the floor manager,” Jane piped in. “Did you ever have any issues with any of the neighbors? Anything that sticks out for you in the last, oh, eight or nine months?” He leaned forward toward Noel. “No matter how small you think it is, Noel, it could help us solve this crime.”

“No.” Noel hesitated. “Well, there is one thing.” She looked up at Jane who was pacing from side-to-side in front of her, his finger still tap-tap-tapping away. “About seven months ago, I heard construction going on in an apartment. I was naturally curious because we don’t allow them to modify the floor plans of the condos. They can only paint and that kind of thing,” clarified Noel. “I didn’t mention it before because it seemed insignificant.”

“Someone was doing construction? Do you know what it was?” Lisbon asked. “Or who?” she added.

Noel gesticulated with her head toward the wall Jane was knocking on earlier. “Professor Tullin. I don’t know exactly what he was doing, but I saw some pieces of drywall in the trash the next collection day.”

Jane looked at Lisbon and back to Noel. “Like he was removing part of a wall?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“And you didn’t report it?”

“Well, no,” she admitted. “I told him he can’t do that, and if he didn’t replace what he was tearing out, I’d go to management. He assured me he’d fix the wall, and I assumed he did.”

“Hmm.”

“Jane, what are you thinking?” Lisbon asked.

“Thank you, Noel. We’ll be in touch. Lisbon?”

Lisbon rose and turned to Noel. “If you think of anything else, give me a call.” She pulled out her card and slid it to the woman who took it with a nod.

They exited Noel Moreno’s apartment and headed for the elevators. It was quiet on the ride down between them. Finally, after they exited the elevator into the lobby, Lisbon turned to Jane.

“What is it?”

“I think you need to get a search warrant for Professor Tullin's apartment,” he told her, holding open the front door.

“Why? Removing a wall isn’t against the law!” She sighed deeply. “We need probable cause, Jane. You know that.”

“No, but it is suspicious because it is in the time range that body has been in that room, right? And it could explain how the murderer got out of the room without detection or un-bolting the padlock. Isn’t that probable cause?”

“By breaking through the wall? Come on, Jane!” Lisbon laughed as they walked to Lisbon’s car.

“It’s not out of the realm of possibility, Teresa,” he told her. “Remember the case where he landed in his secret vault? The house with the projected ‘ghost’? It can happen. Besides, I am not so sure he actually removed the wall.  Just saying if he did, it’s suspiciously convenient.”

She groaned. “Fine!”

“Good. Now, I want to go back to the office and make a beeline to see our son. I sense you do, too.”

They got into the car and drove off toward the office, a potential lead in hand.

“Dakota Ketchum,” Wylie said to himself, pecking at the keys as he squeezed a stress ball in his other hand. “Let’s see if we get a hit.”

He waited, watching as the database scanned for her name and matched the information on her vital statistics. He flexed the stress ball, swinging his chair from left to right as the screen scrolled on. Finally, the picture of a woman with long brown hair framing her face with brown eyes and an olive complexion popped up on screen. Wylie stopped swinging in his seat and put the stress ball on his desk. With a couple of keystrokes, he pulled up Dakota Ketchum’s entire profile, including an address.

“Wylie!” Lisbon called out as she entered the bullpen, Jane following her with baby Liam in his arms. “Get anything from Cho?”

He looked up at them and nodded his head, lifting himself from his seat and reaching out to touch Liam’s blond hair. Liam smiled and pointed a small finger at him. Jane wiggled Ducky in front of Wylie and Liam, letting the agent know he still loved that stuffed animal he bought for their son.

“Hey, little man! Yeah, let me show you.”  He let go of Liam’s head and let Jane move the baby to the couch with him. He sat back down and pointed to the screen as she came behind him. “Dakota Ketchum has no living relatives as far as I can tell. Her parents died when she was young, and she had no other family. But her address is very interesting.”

Lisbon followed his finger and she was surprised to find that Dakota owned a condo in that building. Her address stated that she lived in apartment 705. That was just a few doors down from the crime scene in which was her last resting place.

“It’s the same floor as where she was murdered,” Lisbon said in surprise. “Well, that is interesting.”

“Cho and Tork are on their way back. Do you want me to tell them anything?”

She shook her head. “No. I need to get Cho to ask the judge for a search warrant. I think this may actually help us in that department. Thanks, Wylie!”

“No problem.”

She turned back to Jane with the intention of telling him that his hunch might be right about Professor Tullin with the news that Dakota did own a condo on the same floor, but she was rendered speechless by the sight on his couch.

Jane was lying on the weathered material with his eyes closed, and Liam lying on his chest. Jane’s arms wrapped around his son tightly, Ducky in his hands on top of Liam’s back. He was humming a familiar tune as he stroked his little back in small rubs. She smiled at the sight as she wandered over close to father and baby. She could hear the tune clearly now. It was ‘Little Boy Blue’.

“Is he asleep?” Jane whispered without opening his eyes.

“I think so,” she whispered back, leaning down and bringing an arm up to brush a lock of her son’s hair from his forehead. “Must be the rousing up from his teething.”

“I think my heartbeat helps him to sleep.”

“What is it that you do when I am working, Jane?” she asked in a whisper. “I mean, with our son?”

“Well,” he smiled, “I find that our son is very adept at gambling. I let him pick the cards and horses. He is very good at his poker face. He just cries and it confuses people.”

“Ha-ha,” she whispered. She was quiet for a long time. “You’re a great father, Jane. I see that every single time you hold Liam. I see everything I saw in you all over again.”

“You, too, Teresa,” he told her softly. “A great mother. I always knew that, though. Even not being able to read you and you being a mystery has blinded some things from me, I’ve always known you’d make a great mother.”

“You did?”

“Yes.” He opened one eye to peek at her. “Yes. And I am glad to say I am happy it was with me.”

“I’m going to have Wylie take Philips and take a look at our victim’s condo,” she whispered. “You stay here and keep Liam busy. I’ll be looking over the neighbors’ statements, okay?”

“Okay,” Jane said. “I’ll be here, Teresa.”

Liam budged in his sleep. Lisbon smiled and gave her husband a kiss and lifted herself to let Liam nap with Jane.

“Wylie,” called Lisbon. “Take Agent Philips to the apartments. Look for anything suspicious, okay? I assume you filled her in about the case?”

“Yeah, I did. I got you,” he replied, grabbing his jacket off his chair. He motioned over to Philips, who was sitting at her desk waiting for instructions. “Agent Philips, let’s go snoop in other people’s things!” He smiled when Lisbon looked at him. “Joke,” he added.

“I got that, Wylie,” replied Lisbon, watching the two agents head to the elevator.

“Okay,” he said cumbersomely. “No more jokes for me.”

“It’s really not a joke, Wylie,” Philips told him. “It’s what we are going to do.”

Half an hour later, Philips slipped the key she got from the management team into the lock of 705, turning it until she heard the lock click open. She pushed the door open and felt Wylie right behind her as he clicked the door closed.

The condo was neat; the light fading in from the window across the room. Though it was tidy, Philips could see signs that the apartment hadn’t been lived in for quite a while. Cobwebs lingered in corners and the air smelled stale. Philips sighed and put her hands on her hips.

“What do we do now?” Wylie asked.

“Search for anything that can give us a clue as to what might have happened to her,” Philips answered, sweeping a hand toward the living room and kitchen. “Look for computers or papers.”

Philips took to the living room, searching through some papers Dakota had stacked on the table. It was just bills from what she could see. She flipped through them quickly before putting them back. Wylie headed off towards the bedroom. Philips moved over to a date book sitting near the phone. She flipped back a year and started flipping forward on each page. On March 26, eight months before her body was discovered, Philips found an entry that read DT 8:30pm. Philips took the date book and put it in her pocket, ear-marking the page for reference later.

“Philips!” Wylie called out. “I think I may have found something.”

Philips walked back to the bedroom down the small hallway and found Wylie sitting on Dakota’s bed, a laptop open and him pecking away at the keys. He looked up when she entered and pointed to the computer.

“There are a bunch of deleted emails in her trash can,” he explained. “I was going to exit out when I noticed that some of the emails are from someone we know.”

“Daniel Tullin?” she asked, putting Dakota’s DT with the professor’s initials from her date book.

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “Noel Moreno.”

“Can you read them?”

“They’re encrypted,” he replied with a sigh, “Either she didn’t want anyone to read them, or the sender put a timer on the emails. After so long, they just become gibberish to most.”

“To most?”

He smiled. “I am not most people. This is easy stuff.”

“Okay!” said Philips. “Finally, something! Grab the computer. I’ve got her date book. Let’s check the rest of the apartment and get out of here for the day.”

Philips and Wylie looked around Dakota’s residence in mostly silence, apart from the occasional small talk about her life before coming to the FBI. She kept it brief, and he did not pry. The conversation drifted to Jane, as it often did when new people came in. Jane’s reputation superseded him.

“Patrick Jane,” said Philips, turning in the passenger seat. “He’s a consultant, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“He’s well-known. In fact, I followed his case closely,” she answered, smiling marginally.

“Yeah…” Wylie trailed off. “We don’t bring it up.”

“Sorry,” she whispered. “It was intriguing to me is all.”

“How so?”

“Well…” started Sandra, trailing off as Wylie watched her look through a book shelf. “I think it was very intriguing for a lot of people for variety of reasons.”

“Maybe,” he told the new agent. “He’s married and has a child now. He left that in his past.”

She said nothing to this. They completed looking through the apartment, taking the datebook and computer with them, but nothing else was of use. Philips re-locked the door and both agents headed back to the office with their findings.

Later that night, Lisbon padded into their bedroom after giving their son a bath and putting him to bed, glancing over and seeing Jane propped up with a pillow cushioning his back and the crime scene photos spread out on Lisbon’s pillow on his lap.

“Liam down?” Jane asked, reaching out to pull Lisbon into a kiss as she crawled onto the bed from her side. “He had quite the busy day sleeping.”

Lisbon laughed and kissed him again before settling down, propping herself up on the lone pillow Jane left her. She curled her arm around his and pulled her face close to his side, peering at the photos spread out in front of them.

“What are you doing with those?” she asked. “I don’t think you’ll find anything useful, Jane.”

“You doubt me,” he told her. “I cook you a nice meal, I clean up baby Liam in all his messy glory, and you doubt me?” He laughed. “Something is bothering me about what Noel told us,” he admitted. “There is something I am not seeing.”

She looked at the photographs. Some were of the murder scene, and some were of various shots in the room where Dakota’s body had been found. She couldn’t really see anything that would help them. Nothing to do with the case, anyway.

“Jane,” she said, looking up at him. “Nothing is here. Maybe she was mistaken.”

He shrugged his shoulders at her. “Maybe.”

“There is nothing we can do until we get the search warrant, Jane. Besides, Wylie still hasn’t decrypted those emails from Dakota’s laptop, and I found nothing in the neighbor’s statements to hint at anything. Maybe getting her picture out on the news will work. It’s supposed to air tonight.”

“Something just seems like it’s off. I’m a bit rusty at this. It’s been a while since I was challenged like this.”

“It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack, Jane.” She squeezed his arm. “Why don’t you put those away and come snuggle with your wife? Hmm?” She smiled mischievously. “Forget about murders and death for a little while?”

He looked over and her and mirrored her mischievous grin. He stuffed the photos back into the folder without looking and placed it on the nightstand. He turned back to his wife and reached out for her hip, turning her closer to him.

“How much time until Liam wakes up?” he asked, breathing in her ear.

“I really don’t know, Mr. Jane,” she replied, accepting his deep kiss. “Better get a move on.”

“Why, Mrs. Lisbon!” Jane said, feigning shock. “Are you propositioning me?”

“Does that bother you, Mr. Jane?” she asked her husband, planting a kiss on his neck. “Because it doesn’t me.”

He laughed and reached to turn off the light, knocking the folder down, sending the pictures falling to the floor. He didn’t bother picking them up. Instead, he turned back to his wife, and both shrank down into the satin sheets embraced in each other’s arms.

“Warrant came in last night,” Lisbon told Jane as she entered the kitchen the next morning. “I still don’t know exactly what you think we are going to find. Morning, baby!” she said to Liam, bending down and kissing the tip of his nose as he happily ate his oatmeal Jane was feeding him in his highchair. She was thankful that Liam slept through the night and allowed them to get a decent night’s sleep after their prior activities.

“Mmm,” Jane replied, scooping another bit of oatmeal onto Liam’s spoon. “You doubt me yet again?” He arched an eyebrow as he watched her pour orange juice from the carton on the table into a glass and take a few sips.

“I never do,” she promised him. “We don’t know when the murder occurred time wise, so I can’t run Tullin's time card. A neighbor seeing him dismantling a wall is thin, Jane.”

Lisbon sat down and pulled a paper towel off the roll and wiped her son’s face. He leaned toward her and laughed, spilling the food from his mouth and dirtying his face once again.

“Are you being silly for mommy?” Lisbon asked her son playfully. “You be good for daddy, okay? Mommy will be home for lunch and Mommy will feed you.”

“Did Wylie get a chance to crack those emails?” Jane asked, a smile on his face as he watched his wife talk to their son.

“Almost,” she answered, reaching over to steal a slice of bacon off Jane’s plate. “He knows they came from Noel Moreno but not what they say. As floor manager, I am sure she’d send out emails about fire drills and such.” She thought a moment as she chewed on the piece of bacon. “Why it would be encrypted, I don’t know.”

“Privacy reasons? I don’t know, Teresa,” replied Jane. “I am technologically impaired.”

Her phone rang in her pocket. She pulled it out and put it to her ear. “Lisbon.” She listened for a minute or two. “What? Really? Alright. I am on my way. Thanks, Cho.” She hung up quickly and replaced her phone in her pocket.

“Lead?”

“Cho said they executed the search warrant on Daniel Tullin and found something interesting. He didn’t say what.”

“Do you need me to come with you? I can drop Liam off at the daycare and meet you there,” Jane offered.

“No, no,” Lisbon said. “I think Liam could do with some Daddy time. If we find anything, I will tell you over lunch. How is that?”

“Wonder what they found…” Jane trailed off.

“Well, I guess it’s another mystery to unravel.” She looked at her watch. “I have to go.” She slid her chair out from the table and bent to kiss Liam on his cheek, getting oatmeal on her lips. She wiped it off with a laugh and bent over to kiss Jane goodbye.

“Be good for Daddy, okay?” she told Liam as she headed out of the kitchen. “And don’t teach him your bad habits!” she yelled back before Jane heard the door close behind her.

“I won’t tell if you don’t tell,” he replied to Liam, who was reaching for the spoon in Jane’s hand.

“Muh muh muh muh!” the baby cooed, helping Jane bring the spoon to his mouth.

“I agree.”

“We found this,” Cho told her when she finally arrived back to the apartments. “It proves he knew Dakota Ketchum.”

He handed her a photograph. It was of all the staff on duty at Austin Collegiate. Apparently, Professor Tullin worked with their victim. She was dressed like a professor, and she was in the back of the picture, and Professor Tullin was just in front of her, a smile planted on his face and her hand on his shoulder.

“So,” Lisbon sighed, turning to Cho, “he knew our victim. I guess Jane’s un-kosher feeling about him was right. Are you going to do anything about the wall?” She pointed to the oil painting. “See if there is a secret passage or something?”

“On it,” he answered. “I should have the techs in to radar the wall, see what is behind it.”

“I’ll ask Professor Tullin to make a trip down to the office. We can interrogate him further. Let me know what you find.”

“I will,” Cho assured her. “I want you to take Agent Philips with you. Put the pressure on him, Lisbon.” He turned back toward the agents going through Tullin's stuff. “Agent Philips! Can you ride along with Agent Lisbon and sit in on the interrogation? Give you an idea how we run it here in Austin?”

Agent Philips nodded her head and smiled. “Sure! Anything I can do to help.” She advanced toward Lisbon, and she nodded her head and took the photograph with her as she exited the apartment.

“This should be fun,” Agent Philips commented.

“Just be glad Jane isn’t around,” Lisbon retorted. “You’d be entertained for hours with his techniques.” She got close to the elevators when she heard her name being called from behind.

“Agent Lisbon!” a familiar voice drifted to her. She turned around to see Noel Moreno leaning out of her apartment. She beckoned to Lisbon, and Lisbon turned around and walked back to Moreno’s apartment.

“Noel? What is it?”

Noel looked at Agent Philips over Lisbon’s shoulder. Lisbon turned around and nodded to Philips, who turned and walked to the elevator. “Well, the lady’s picture and name was on the news last night,” she told Lisbon, looking around nervously. “I saw Professor Tullin acting very suspicious after that. He was pacing in the hall and I even saw him enter the crime scene! I’m scared to live this close to him!” She spoke rapidly, as if she would be caught any minute divulging this information.

“He entered the crime scene? Last night? You sure?”

“Yes! I was scared to leave my apartment!”

Lisbon looked at Noel and realized that her posture and her flighty eyes gave away enough for Lisbon to read her. Working with Jane all those years had its advantages. She stared at the woman and squinted her eyes.

“Do you know something, Noel? Something you haven’t shared with me?”

“I don’t like getting into personal business,” she said, “but I think it might be important. Professor Tullin was dating that woman. At least, I think he was. I saw her a few times going over there. When I saw her on TV last night, I recognized her.”

“They were involved with each other?” Somehow, this potential revelation didn’t surprise Lisbon.

“Yeah. She would sneak into his apartment at night. When she disappeared or whatever, he just started working more.”

“Do you mind coming down to the FBI office to make an official statement on that?” She could see Noel hesitate. “It’s a woman’s life we are talking about here, Ms. Moreno.” Lisbon sighed. “I can do it by force, but I rather not. It won’t take long.”

Noel hesitated, finally deciding to close her apartment door and follow her over to Agent Philips. They rode the elevator down and exited the apartments, Noel looking around nervously before she was ushered in the back of the Lisbon’s car.

“How long will this take?” Noel asked. “I…I really don’t want to be too long.”

“Not long,” Lisbon promised her. “Just relax.”

Lisbon looked in her rearview mirror and then over to Agent Philips who had been gazing at her. She threw the agent a smile and put her eyes back to the road.

“I didn’t mean to stare,” Philips said. “Sorry. It’s just I didn’t know you and Mr. Jane were married.” Agent Philips looked abashed. “Agent Tork told me,” she explained. “I also saw your interaction in the bullpen. Cute baby.”

“Thanks,” she replied. “It was a long road. Liam is the product of years of development.” She sighed deeply. “It’s hard to explain.”

“I know about you, too, Agent Lisbon,” Philips told her. “About your perseverance and patience with him and his case.”

Lisbon snorted. “Patience is hardly the right word.”

“At any rate, you saw his revenge first hand,” Philips went on. “I know that must have been hard on you.”

“It was harder on him,” she told her quietly. “It nearly destroyed him and me right along with it.”

Sandra was quiet then. She turned from Lisbon and looked out the window. “I can understand,” she said. “I can relate.”

“Unrequited love is a terrible thing,” Noel said from the back of the car. “It hurts.”

“I was told that once,” Lisbon told her. “It’s not always true.”

“Sure it is,” she whispered before falling silent.

Lisbon looked back again in the rear view mirror and squinted her eyes at the woman who was now looking out of the side window. She shook her head slightly at the odd statement, and dragged her eyes back to the road and to thoughts of the long road she and Jane has shared and the little bouncing, messy baby that came of it all at home.

Jane balanced Liam—who was holding Ducky firmly in his little fists—on one hip, and a basket full of dirty laundry in the other. He sat the basket down on the edge of the bed and placed Liam next to it, placing Ducky on their pillows. Immediately, the baby turned himself and began to crawl up the bed to where Jane had placed Ducky.

“You found him! Good boy!” Jane praised, reaching down to pick up a stray sock that fell from the hamper near the bed.

He noticed a few of the pictures he was looking at last night on the floor, realizing that he forgot to pick them up the night before. He reached down and picked them up, tapping them into a neat pile. He glanced at Liam, who was squeezing Ducky’s beak before moving to place the pictures in the folder on the nightstand. Something caught his eye on the photograph on top. He sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling Liam crawl over to him and show him Ducky.

“Yes,” Jane said, smiling widely at his son. “He is such a nice duck, Liam.” He reached out and brushed his son’s hair with his palm. “I like him, too.”

“Ba?” Liam asked his daddy, shaking his curls. He pointed to Ducky. “Ba.”

Jane turned his attention back to the picture. It was a picture of the entire room; wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling. His eyes stared at the wall on the right. He tilted his head and looked harder at the picture. Suddenly, his mind flashed back to his interviews and observations with Lisbon on the neighbors, and he knew what was troubling about them.

“Oh!” Jane exclaimed, hurriedly putting the pictures back in the folder and placed them on the bed. He reached over and picked up his son, slinging him on his hip as he reached for the phone. “I have to tell Mommy something very important. We are going to help her nab a mean old bad person!”

He dialed Lisbon’s cell number, but his call went unanswered. He put down the receiver and went into their closet, retrieving Liam’s baby carrier. He took Liam back over to the bed and sat him there as he put the carrier on. He belted it tightly around his body before reaching down and lifting Liam into it, picking up Ducky, and handing it to him when he dropped it and started to fuss for it.

“We got to get down to help Mommy,” he told Liam. “Want to go see Mommy? Yes! Let’s go!” Jane exited the bedroom with his son strapped to his chest. He came back in a few seconds later, picked the folder up off the bed and hurried out of the room a second time.

                                                       ACT THREE

Agent Philips and Tork sat across from Professor Daniel Tullin, the photograph in the middle of the table. His eyes darted to it and back up to the two agents who were waiting for him to speak, having just told him they found that in his house and they knew that the victim not only worked with him, but dated him, too.

“I don’t know what to tell you!” Tullin told them, jabbing the picture. “Yes, I worked with her, but I didn’t know it was her until last night’s news broadcast, and I certainly never killed anyone!”

“Did you date her?” Philips asked him openly. “We have a statement that says you were dating Dakota Ketchum.”

Tullin shook his head and laughed dryly. “I’ve never dated her in my life! We just happened to work together and live near each other! That was it!”

“So why would someone give us a statement to the contrary, Professor Tullin? Why would they tell us that you’ve been dating the victim up until the time of her disappearance?”

“I don’t know! Are they of sound mind?” he asked. “Look, I really didn’t know her well! I’ve never dated her, and I don’t know what would possess anyone to say otherwise!”

“How good do you know Noel Moreno?” asked Tork. “Well?”

Professor Tullin straightened himself and scoffed. “Noel Moreno is a nice woman. She’s always treated me kindly. What does she have to do with this? I am confused.”

Tork and Philips looked at each other. Noel was in the interrogation room next door giving Lisbon a statement all of her own that contradicted Tullin's. Philips leaned forward and sighed. She took the photo from the table and put it back in the folder in front of her before sitting back in her chair again.

“She says contrarily, Professor Tullin. She tells us that not only did you date the victim, but you were doing construction on your apartment like you were making a way into the apartment next to you. Maybe to murder Dakota and lock the place up tight?”

“That is preposterous! I did no such thing! I never did any renovations! I certainly never killed anyone, and I never dated Dakota! Noel Moreno is either mistaken or crazy or both!”

“She just made it all up?”

“Yes!”

“Why would she?”

“I don’t know! Look! I refuse to talk anymore. I want my lawyer.”

“Fine,” Philips said, rising to her feet. “When we get the radar results back on your wall, we’ll see just who is crazy.” She and Tork exited the interrogation room and walked into the bullpen with as little as they had walked in with.

“Uh,” Wylie said, spinning around in his chair to face them when he heard them re-enter the bullpen. “I have something on those emails.”

“What?”

“Well, I was able to decrypt some of the emails, and it seems to be an exchange between Noel Moreno and the victim.” He shrugged a shoulder. “From what I see, the victim was having conversations with Noel about some kind of argument or something. It’s not too clear because only some of the emails could be decrypted, but it sounds like Noel was unhappy with Dakota.”

“You can’t tell us about what?” Philips asked.

“No,” Wylie said. “Too vague in their wording. Here is a little snippet of an email.” He turned back to the computer and cleared his throat. “It says, ‘You can’t do this. This isn’t the way it is supposed to go. I don’t think you understand how serious I am about this.’ It just goes on like that back and forth.”

“We could ask her,” Tork offered. “I mean she is already here, right? Why not just ask her about them?”

Philips sat down at her desk and sighed. “It’s too vague. She is floor manager. It could be just something as simple as a contract breach or something. Hell, maybe Dakota wanted to build a damn bar in her apartment. Point is it is too vague to use. She may clam up and renege on her statements, too.”

The elevator opened up a moment later, and out stepped Jane with baby Liam strapped to his chest and a folder in his hands. They watched him walk up to them, looking around the bullpen before settling his eyes on the three agents.

“Where is Lisbon?” Jane asked. “I need to talk to her.”

“What is Liam doing here? Why didn’t you take him to the daycare?” Wylie asked, watching as Liam turned his head toward his voice.

“No time!” Jane told them. “You get anything yet, Wylie?”

“Yes,” Wylie told him. “Some emails. Most are too vague.” He reached down and handed Jane a print out of the conversations.

“Oh! Excellent!” He shoved that paper in the folder with the pictures and looked around again. “So where is my wife?”

“Interrogation room 2,” Philips told him. “I don’t think--”

“Thanks!” he said, cutting her off and walking past the fishbowl and toward the interrogation room.

A moment later, Jane wrenched open the door to the second interrogation unit, striding inside and watching as his wife and Noel Moreno turned to him.

“Jane! What are you doing here? And why is Liam strapped to your chest?” Lisbon asked her husband with an undertone of annoyance. She noticed that he was in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt that fit just perfect over his muscled forearms.

“Sorry, Teresa,” he apologized. “The baby and I apologize for crashing this interrogation, but I have some information I think will be very interesting to you.”

Jane flopped the folder down in front of Lisbon and pointed to it.

“What is this?” she asked, watching as Liam fidgeted in his carrier. She watched as Jane bent his head down to kiss Liam’s head, but his eyes did not leave Lisbon’s. “You can’t bring our son into an interrogation, Jane!”

“Sorry, but…”

“Evidence to what exactly?” she interrupted, opening the folder. “It’s just the pictures of the crime scene, Jane.”

“But that is the evidence, Teresa,” he assured her. He looked at Noel Moreno and smiled that familiar mischievous smile. “You are good; I will give you that. So good. Nearly bought it.”

“Huh?” Noel asked, scrunching her nose in confusion.

“When we first interviewed you, you were extremely nervous when I was knocking on your walls,” he explained. “That was unusual all in itself, but there was something else unusual, Noel.” He pointed to her as he bounced his son in his carrier. “Your place was neat as a pin. I didn’t notice it until I looked at those photographs.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Daniel Tullin had an oil painting hanging on the wall of his apartment; the wall that connected to the murder scene. You, on the other hand, had nothing on that wall when we visited you.” Jane laughed. “I almost missed it!”

“Jane…” Lisbon said.

“Okay, okay! Well, the reason nothing was hanging on that wall is because nothing can hang on that wall! There are no studs or boards back there. Nothing for nails to catch and grab.” He smiled wider. “It’s a phony wall, isn’t it? It pulls out to allow you access to the model apartment, doesn’t it? At least a section of it.”

Lisbon looked from her husband to Noel, a bewildered expression on her face. “What is he talking about?”

Noel shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know!”

“Ah, sure you do, Noel! It’s why you were panicked when I knocked on the wall,” Jane told her. “But the false wall is insulated to keep sound down. A partition! That’s what they call false walls! You are the floor manager, Noel. Your apartment opens up to the empty one. It’s something the builders and planner of the building put in just in case they needed to change things down the road.”

“That’s crazy!”

“You lured Dakota into your apartment that night, didn’t you, Noel? Showed her the false Alabaster wall that led into the model apartment next door? What was the pretense? Calling off your argument over Professor Tullin? Tell her to back off of him?” Jane pointed to the top sheet with Wylie’s print out. “Your emails tell it all.”

Noel shook her head. “You don’t know what you are talking about! I won’t be accused of something I never did!”

“You thought Dakota was dating Professor Tullin, didn’t you? And you were secretly in love with him. I am guessing you saw them leave for work together or maybe you used your floor key to get into his apartment and snoop?”

“GAH!” Liam said loudly, kicking his legs.

“I agree, Liam,” he said, putting a hand to his back. “Gah, indeed.”

“Wait! This sounds crazy,” Lisbon said, turning to her husband. “But crazy is your business. Plus, that would explain her odd statement on the way here about unrequited love.”

“The date book Philips found in Dakota’s apartment? How much do you want to bet Noel, here, let herself into Dakota’s apartment and read that entry. Probably infuriated her that Professor Tullin and Dakota were closer than she’d ever get to him. That’s when you decided to get rid of her, isn’t it? You tried emails, but it didn’t work.”

There was silence from Noel before she suddenly started to weep. She shook her head and put her hands in her hair on either side of her face, bowing her head.

“You want to tell us what happened, Noel?” Lisbon asked. “Don’t make us drag it out of you. The gig is up. Time to be truthful.”

Noel raised her head and leaned back in her chair. She looked from Lisbon to Jane and back to Lisbon again. She shook her head and laughed without humor.

“She was always around him!” she started finally. “She moved in and suddenly it was like I didn’t even exist to him! It started out with them just swapping pleasantries,” Noel said with a shrug. “Nothing big. But the more I watched them, the more I could see how he looked at her and touched her hand and shoulder, laughing with her! He ignored me! For what? For her?”

“It must have pissed you off knowing he would never see you like that, huh?” Jane pushed. “Knowing that you were a speck on his radar. You sat there and thought about it, getting madder by the second that she was close to him while you were ignored by him. Or so you thought.”

“He was mine.”

“You were infatuated with him?” Lisbon asked. “She was in your way of that.”

“She was blocking the way! Blinding him to anyone else!” Noel told them. “I sent her emails telling her to stay away for him and how serious I was about her keeping her distance from Daniel. She just wouldn’t listen! Working with him during the day and being in his bed at night!”

“So you killed her.”

“That wasn’t the plan,” Noel explained. “I just invited her over to talk about it briefly before she went on her merry way. Come to a compromise. She’d stay away from him and I would let her alone. I’d stop the emails.”

“Something went wrong. What was it? Start from the beginning.”

“She was supposed to meet Daniel that night at eight-thirty. For what, I can only guess,” Noel said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I saw her pass my door about ten minutes before that. I asked her to come inside, as I said before.” She sighed deeply, looking down at her hand in her lap and shaking her head. “I knew she’d never stay away from him. I just knew it in my heart.”

“What happened next?”

“I told her Daniel was waiting in the apartment next door,” Noel went on. “She was a little suspicious, but she was so dumb!” She laughed. “I pulled the butcher's knife I kept in a cabinet. I didn’t intend to kill her. I only wanted to scare her. I stabbed her accidentally,” she said.

“How do you stab someone accidentally, Noel? Was she still moving when you left her?” Lisbon asked, her face serious. “Could she have been saved if you made a call?”

Noel shrugged. “I don’t know. I panicked and closed the wall. After a few hours, I didn’t hear her moaning anymore. I went over and she was dead!”

“So you put the air conditioner on to try to slow down her decomp?” Lisbon asked. “That’s why it was cold when I first walked in there. It also explains the padlocked door from the inside. Neat and clean,” Lisbon told her. “Your nosiness in this case really did you in,” she added. “Though Jane would have figured it out, I am sure. Tell me, why did you want to make the object of your obsession guilty? Why tell us lies to implicate him when you knew he didn’t do it?”

She shrugged. “If I can’t have him, nobody can,” she said simply.

“Where’s the knife, Noel?”

“Where I got it,” she replied. “In the kitchen cabinet.”

Lisbon rose, leaving the room to get Tork to book her on first degree murder. Jane kissed his son as he watched Noel over his little head as the woman wept again.

“I should have known it was you,” Jane said. “You said you were home almost all time, yet you never heard any commotion of any kind? Improbable. Professor Tullin didn’t hear it because he hadn't arrived home yet. Probably worked late. Other neighbors thought nothing of it or were asleep. But you being so close would have certainly heard it. I also suspect you had delusional episodes where you pretended to be Tullin's wife or girlfriend.” Jane shook his head at her. “Your place was exceptionally clean. You were letting potential clients see your apartment so they wouldn’t stumble upon the body. I mean, you couldn’t say, ‘Oh crap! A dead body!’. No. You just had to keep people away. The padlock from inside assured nobody from management down below would get in there, either. Clever, actually.” He shook his head in self-disappointment. “I’m getting rusty in my old age.”

She just stared at him as she wept.

“Obsessions can be dark things, Noel,” he told her. “They can eat you from the inside.”

“How would you know?” she asked.

“Trust me,” Jane told her. “I know very well.”

Tork came in, read Noel her rights and led her from the room. Jane and Liam both waved goodbye to her as they watched her disappear down the bullpen and out of sight. Lisbon stood there with her hands on her hips.

“Uh,” Jane said. “He made me come,” he accused, nodding toward their eight-month-old. “He wanted to see his mommy, and Daddy wanted to help mommy bust a bad person,” he told her.

“You caught a bad woman, Jane,” she said with a tired sigh. “Most days that is enough.”

Jane smiled widely. “What about today?”

“This,” she said, walking over and kissing Liam on the cheek, “makes up for what doesn’t. Thanks for coming down here, Jane.”

“You’re welcome, Teresa.”

“Let’s go get that lunch, okay? After the morning I’ve had, I could use some fresh air, food, and kisses from my two favorite men.”

                                                      ACT FOUR

“We pulled back the wall in Noel Moreno’s apartment,” Cho told Dr. Rosales, passing her the popped bowl of popcorn and plopping down beside her during their date later that night. “It led right into the crime scene. We recovered the weapon, too. It was a good day.” He wrapped his arm around her. “Wylie also found a flight booked using her credit card. She was buying time by lying on Tullin while she planned to head to Mexico.”

“I matched the knife wounds with the weapon you recovered. A complete match. Why did they have a partition in an apartment, anyway?” Anna asked, sitting back against Cho’s chest. “Seems strange.”

“We talked to the management of the entire building,” Cho said, handing her a glass of wine before picking up his. “They said that it was meant to show visual impact. They said it once was one big apartment suite, but was converted in later years, but the wall was never closed off completely.” He sighed. “She’s undergoing psychiatric observation.”

“Well, I am glad justice was served,” Anna told him. “Patrick Jane is certainly an interesting man, Kimball,” she added. “I do believe he was trying to play matchmaker to us.”

“He does that,” Cho said. He reached for a popcorn and popped it in his mouth.

“Did it work?”

“Yes,” he said deadpan.

“I love your way with words, Kimball,” she told him, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “It’s been two months. I think the odds are in our favor. Don’t you?”

He looked at her then. “Nobody rattles me the way you do. I think if the odds aren’t in our favor, then I am in trouble.”

She laughed at that and sighed, taking a sip of her wine. “You’re a very interesting man, Kimball Cho. I look forward to finding out more about you.”

“I will tell you whatever you want to know, Anna,” Cho told her, sitting his wine glass down and bringing her face close to his. “Just ask.”

He kissed her, and she kissed him back, letting the popcorn bowl fall to the floor as they embraced each other, the movie long forgotten in front of them.

Across town in their cabin, Lisbon stepped through the front door and a smile spread across her face. Lisbon sighed, reaching up to remove her ID badge and put it in her blazer’s front pocket and undid her hair clip, letting her curls fall around her shoulders. She felt Jane’s hand on her back. She turned to find him staring at her.

“I missed you,” he whispered. “I know it’s only been a few hours, but I am so glad you are home.”

“Mmmm,” she murmured into his chest. “Glad to be home and have this case wrapped up.”

“Someone wants me to share you,” he told her with a laugh when Liam squealed.

She gave her husband a kiss and he patted her behind playfully as she walked into the large living room and crept over to her son’s pen. He was sitting in the center, Ducky firmly in his little hands. She reached down and scooped her son into her arms, reaching down when Ducky fell back into the pen to retrieve him.

“What?” She laughed.

“Just wondering why I am so lucky,” he told her truthfully. “A beautiful wife, an amazing son. I was just thinking of how I could have turned out like Noel Moreno. Let the obsession overtake me and render me devoid of any common sense or decency,” he explained. “But I have had light in my life to get me out of it. I was just thinking of how lucky I am.”

“Let’s not drag that out into the night, Jane,” she told him, taking his hand in hers. “Always look on the bright side, remember?”

“I remember it well, Teresa,” he told his wife, allowing her to reach up to kiss him. “I’m sorry.”

"You said Tullin made you feel something un-kosher was going on, but he ended up being innocent. You are losing your touch." She grinned.

"The feeling he was hiding something wasn't entirely lost, Teresa. Looking back, he was nervous because he knew Dakota was missing. It probably got around at work she just vanished. He wanted to tell us about her, but he was afraid he'd be accused. A natural fear." He paused.  “When we were meeting Agent Philips after the first time we interviewed him, he was going to tell us, but he was afraid and went back inside the apartment.”

"God, do you ever get sick of your own skills?" Lisbon asked sarcastically.

"No," he replied with a laugh. “Worked on you, didn’t it?”

“Muh muh!” Liam said, picking up Ducky and throwing it down again, pulling their attention away from the conversation.

“Someone is ready for their bedtime.” Lisbon reached down on the floor for his stuffed duck, slinging it in her hands. “Want to get his bath ready, daddy?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Jane said with a laugh, tickling his son on his belly before kissing Lisbon on the forehead. “One bath coming up. Extra suds! But no scratchy soap beard!”

Lisbon heard him walk into the kitchen, over the sink, where the majority of Liam’s baths were taking place. She walked with him to the couch and sat down, turning him to face her. She noticed something in Liam’s mouth. Something white. He was drooling on it as his little hands clasped it tightly.

“Liam, what do you have, baby boy?” she asked, taking the object from him. “How in the...” she trailed off, looking closely at it.  “That ID badge was in my breast pocket…” She narrowed her eyes and looked up toward the kitchen. “PATRICK JANE! YOU TAUGHT HIM TO PICK POCKETS!!”

                                                            FIN

Writer: @betweenthedarks

Art provided by: @miwakosato and @beautywithin16

We do not own TM. 2016. 

[mentalistvirtual8-blog]

                                                  KALEIDOSCOPE

                                              SEASON 8, EPISODE 3

                                                      TEASER

 “Hey, Cho,” Lisbon greeted her boss as she walked into the bullpen. He was carrying a pile of folders.

“Morning, Lisbon.”

She nodded at the stack of folders in his hands. “Cold cases?” It had been a few days since they finished their last one and after having done all the paperwork, they were running out of work.

“No,” Cho said, deposing the folders on a table as his phone started ringing. “Complaints we’ve got the last weeks.”

Lisbon grimaced, very well aware what, or rather who, was responsible for most of them. She felt a tad bad for Cho, but not enough to regret that Jane decided to return part time. She enjoyed working with him far too much and besides...she was sure that Cho deep down was glad to have Jane back too; he just had to get used to being his superior now.

“Sorry,” she said, half grinning. Cho gave her one of his rare smiles before he answered the call.

Lisbon immediately sensed that their idle time was over.

“We have a case,” Cho said, lowering the phone for a moment. “Missing body on an oil rig out the coast of Corpus Christi. Briefing in 15 minutes, pass it along.” The phone back at his ear, he walked into his office, the complaints on the table forgotten for now.

“An oil platform? That sounds like fun!” Wylie was a lot more excited by the prospect of visiting an offshore platform than Lisbon. “Do you think we’ll have to fly out there? Oh I hope so.”

Lisbon shrugged and sat down at her desk. “Briefing is in ten minutes; I guess we’ll know more then.”

Tork, similarly to Lisbon, didn’t share their youngest agent’s enthusiasm.

“I hate helicopters,” he murmured, shuddering at the memory of his last flight. Lisbon contorted her face, feeling pity for her colleague. She luckily hadn’t been in the machine with him, but from what she’d heard it had turned into a bad experience, not only for him, but for everyone forced to sit close to him.  

“It’s my turn anyhow,” Lisbon said in an attempt to reassure him, even if she wasn’t particularly happy about it. Since her return to work she never had to fly anywhere, or even leave Austin for more than a day. That duty always had fallen to one of the other agents, and Lisbon knew very well why. Cho had tried to make it easier for her, but there was no point. This was her job and she wouldn’t let others do her share of out-of-the-city cases. Just a day ago, she’d asked Cho to send her out into the field the very next time it would be necessary. She might have reconsidered, had she known that it would involve something offshore. She sighed; no going back now. She made her request, she wouldn’t back down, besides...maybe they wouldn’t even need to go there.

“Hey Jane!”

She looked up at Wylie’s words to see Jane walk towards her desk. He had Liam in his arms and she couldn’t but smile at the two of them.

 “Hey.” He greeted Wylie and Tork and then bent down to peck Lisbon on the lips. No matter how often he’d already kissed her in the office, she still blushed every single time if it happened in front of her colleagues. It was simply adorable. The way both Tork and Wylie looked everywhere but at them was an added bonus. Seriously, those two sometimes were more flustered than a bunch of teenagers.

“Hey little man,” Lisbon said happily and took Liam off him.

“Did Cho call you?” Wylie asked, daring to look at them again, now that there was no more danger of public displays of affection.

“Nope. Why?” Jane’s interest was awakened. “A new case?”

“Yeah,” Lisbon answered, not taking her eyes off Liam. “We don’t know much yet, only that it involves an oil-rig.”

“Intriguing.” Jane leaned back against her desk. “And no, he didn’t call me. I’m here to spend a few hours with Liam in the day-care. They’ve got a new nanny and I thought I have a short chat with her.”

“You mean you’re planning to interrogate her?” Lisbon rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t you think she’s been thoroughly checked before they hired her? And I don’t think nanny is the appropriate denotation.”

Jane grinned at Lisbon. “You never can be careful enough.”

Lisbon eyed him warningly, but he answered before she could open her mouth.

“No hypnosis, I promise.” He grinned at her.

“So an oil platform,” he said the next moment, in an attempt to distract Lisbon from asking any more questions.

“Yeah, it’s kind of exciting, isn’t it?” Wylie had an eager gleam in his eyes. “Out in the ocean, on a deserted platform.”

Lisbon and Tork didn’t say a word, both hoping that it wouldn’t come to that.  

“Ah, my friend,” Jane said to Wylie, “It seems your colleagues don’t share your excitement.” He leaned closer to Wylie and whispered. “Lisbon is afraid of boats. I don’t know what Tork’s excuse is-”

“I’m not afraid of boats,” Lisbon insisted, “I don’t like them, there’s a difference. Besides,” She moved Liam to the other side as he started to play with her hair. “It’s a platform, not a boat.”

At least that would mean no seasickness, Lisbon thought with relief.

“Unless it’s one of these floating platforms,” Wylie mused. “They’re anchored to the ground of course, but still floating, very much like a boat. It’s ...” he stopped as he noticed the way Lisbon glared at him.

“But that’s very unlikely,” he quickly added, his voice high and fast, “they’re not that common around here.”

Jane chuckled.

                                                         ACT 1

 Cold wind greeted Lisbon and Wylie as they stepped out of the helicopter. The air was heavy with thousands of small water droplets, leaving a salty taste on their tongues. Wylie grinned at Lisbon and she rolled her eyes. His almost childlike excitement reminded her of Jane, eliciting a smile from her despite their current situation.

A member of the Coast Guard walked towards them.  

“Agent Lisbon and Agent Wylie?” he shouted over the soaring rotors of the helicopter that took off again behind them.

“Yes.” Lisbon shook the guard’s hand.  

“Sam Hendriks. I’ve been expecting you.”

They left their bags in a small storage room and immediately walked to the crime scene.

“We were called in this morning,” Hendriks explained, as he led them through the platform.  

“The students went looking for the professor, as he didn’t show up for their daily meeting at nine. That’s when they found ... or rather didn’t find him.”

They followed Hendriks through only dimly illuminated corridors; metal walls and pipes surrounded them all along the way, creating the impression of being inside a huge machine and not a building. The blueish light was giving Lisbon a headache already.

Wylie’s initial excitement had worn off and as they stepped through a metal door, looking exactly like the last five they passed, he nervously whispered to Lisbon, “This place is a maze! I hope Hendriks knows where he’s going.”

Lisbon grinned, but before she could answer, they finally reached their destination. It was a small room, stuffed with all kinds of diving equipment. The most conspicuous trait of the room though, was the two by two-meter square in the floor, opening into the pitch black ocean beneath them. Not for any money in the world Lisbon would ever climb down there.

Wylie stepped closer to the edge and Lisbon suppressed the urge to pull him back. Ever since she’d had Liam, she felt even more protective about everyone, including her young colleague.

A sole black cable laid on the floor beside the entrance to the water, connected to a scary looking machine that emitted a slight humming sound. Only it wasn’t a normal cable, but the air supply for the divers. It had been cut off clean with a knife. For a short moment, no one said a word, they just stared at what once had been Greg Danvers’ connection to the surface, providing him with air to breathe; his lifeline. Lisbon shuddered as images uninvitedly filled her mind. The idea of being down there, in the darkness, when suddenly the air flow stopped...

“Is that the murder weapon?” Wylie asked, pointing at the sharp edged knife lying beside the tube.

“It looks like it.” Hendriks had stayed back at the door, giving them some space.

He took a small notebook from one of the tech guys and opened it. “You might wanna see this.”

A black and white video played on the screen, showing a man of about fifty in a dry suit. He had a diving helmet under his right arm.

“Greg Danvers, I presume.” Lisbon looked at the video more closely, swallowing as the man put on the helmet and lowered himself into the black water, disappearing in an instant.

“Yes. That’s Professor Danvers.”

For a few minutes there was nothing but an empty room to be seen on screen. Hendriks started to fast forward.

“There’s nothing else on here. About half an hour after he submerged, the video abruptly ends.”

White noise filled the screen, confirming his words.

“A surveillance camera in here?” It seemed odd to Lisbon.

Hendriks nodded, pointing at the left corner of the room.  Both Wylie and Lisbon looked at the small camera attached to the wall, close to the ceiling.

“Are there more than one?” Wylie seemed eager to get his hands on the footage.

“Only one in this room, but there’s more outside. There used to be cameras all over the platform. Safety measure after some things had been stolen a few years back. They took most of them down since the oil production stopped, there’s maybe a handful left. You’ll have to talk to Anne Wellington. She’s overseeing the dismantling of the station. It was her in the first place that provided us with the footage and told us about the cameras. I’m sure she’ll be happy to assist you in any way she can.”

Wylie had taken the notebook from Hendriks. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” Hendriks stepped back. “Do whatever it takes.”

“I’ll send the video to Cho.” Wylie explained, his fingers moving quickly over the keys.

“Did you retrieve the body?” Lisbon asked, again looking at the square of darkness in the middle of the room.

“No, not so far. It might take a while, if they ever find him at all. The water is pretty deep here and there are strong currents. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s long gone.”

Lisbon hesitated for a moment before she spoke again. “Do we know for sure that he died down there? Could the cable have been cut after he already came back and left the water?”

Hendriks shook his head.

“I’m afraid not.” He walked over to the humming machine and pressed a few buttons until a small screen lit up.

“I’ve done hookah dives myself, the numbers on here speak a clear language. Whoever was connected to this machine is dead.”

He pointed at the screen. “A sensor on the outside of the helmet registers the water pressure. The last signal we got, before the air supply and with it the connection to the sensor was interrupted, tells us that he was at a depth of 56 meters. There’s no way he made it back alive.”

Wylie looked up from the laptop he’d been working on ever since Hendriks gave it to him.

“Shouldn’t he be anchored to the station while diving?”

Lisbon stepped closer to the edge, noting the thick metal ring in one of the corners.

“Yeah, he should be. It looks, however, as if his safety leash was decoupled. I guess whoever cut his air supply also didn’t want him to be found.”

“Tork and I will talk to his assistant,” Cho told her. “Keep me posted about your progress with the interviews, or if Wylie finds something useful on the video.”

Cho hung up and looked at Tork as he pocketed his phone. “Wylie sent us a video, but I guess if anyone can find something on there, it will be him.”

Tork slipped into his jacket and followed Cho to the elevator. They weren’t the only ones. Jane was standing close to the elevators, as if he’d had waited for them. Liam was with him.

“Any news?” Jane asked as they approached him.

“Not really. We’re heading to the university now. Would you like to join?” Cho looked at Liam, who decided that moment that it was a good idea to try eating his stuffed duck.

“That doesn’t look healthy.” Cho remarked, but Jane only grinned as he watched his son testing his new teeth on Ducky’s beak.

“He’ll be fine. Did you hear from Lisbon?”

Cho nodded. “I just talked to her. Didn’t you call her?”

“No... we spoke before she boarded the helicopter and we agreed to talk again in the evening.”

Cho sensed that there was more to this answer, but he wouldn’t ask. This was none of his business. Not that it mattered, because apparently Jane chose to tell him anyhow.

“I’m trying to be professional here and let her do her work, I thought it would be appreciated more by you.” Jane almost seemed a tad offended.

“Jane, call her as often as you want. I don’t care.”

Tork had watched the whole exchange silently, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

“So?” Tork asked. “Are you coming to the university now?”

Jane shook his head. “I’m heading home. Liam needs his nap. I’m sure you can handle the interview on your own. Call me if you need me.”

“Five people?” Lisbon asked incredulously. “You are telling me there were only five people on the station last night?”

Hendriks nodded. “Well, six if you count the unfortunate professor.”

“But the oil-rig is huge!” Wylie said. “How can there only be five people?”

Hendriks shrugged. “They stopped production over a year ago. Most of it has already been dismantled from what I heard. Anne Wellington and her assistant are the last two people employed by the oil company that are still stationed here. And then there’s the bunch of researchers and that’s it.” He shook his head. “I was here a few times when the rig was still up and running. What a difference! They had a shop, a bar, everything; it must have been close to a thousand people working and living on the platform.”

That explained the size at least, Lisbon thought.

“Well,” she said, “I guess it should be easier to identify the murderer if it’s one out of five than out of a thousand.”

Hendriks chuckled. “I guess you could say that.”

“And there’s really no way someone else could have arrived at the rig last night and left already?”

“No,” Hendriks affirmed. “It’s almost impossible to enter the oil platform by boat... unless through one of the large boats that deliver supplies, but believe me, we from the Coast Guard would have noticed one of those ships. We patrol the waters around all oil-rigs regularly. The same is true for the airspace. A helicopter wouldn’t have landed unnoticed.”

Wylie looked at Lisbon. “That means the murderer is in there?” He pointed at the closed door in front of them. He seemed a tad uneasy and Lisbon sympathized. While it would definitely help to advance their investigation, it was a weird feeling to know that one of the people behind that door was a murderer. Wylie was even less used to that idea, because he only rarely took part in interviews with suspects. Another reason why Lisbon thought it had been a good idea to take him along, and not only because he’d been so excited about the oil-rig.

“Why don’t you take the lead when we go in there, Wylie?” she asked him.

“Me?” He seemed surprised, almost shocked at the idea.

Lisbon nodded. “Yeah.”

He nervously fiddled with his hands.

“I’ll be with you in the room, there’s no reason to be worried.” She smiled at him reassuringly.

“Okay,” he finally said, taking a deep breath.

“I have to get back to my people,” Hendriks said at that moment. “You have my number if you need anything.”

“Thank you for your help.” Lisbon turned towards the door as the coast guardsman walked away, his footsteps echoing loudly off the metal floor as he disappeared around a corner.

“Come on, Wylie. Let’s do this.” She clapped her young colleague on the shoulder.

Everyone looked at them as they entered the room. It was very obvious that they were dealing with two distinct groups. On one side of the room that seemed to be an odd mixture between a kitchen and a living room, three young people sat on a couch. Two men, and a woman. Lisbon estimated them to be in their twenties. They all looked shaken; the young woman was fiddling around with a paper tissue, her eyes red and puffy.

What a contrast to the two people on the other side of the room. A woman in her mid-forties was on the phone, talking quickly, while she at the same time flipped through some pages on the table. Everything about her screamed efficiency; she only spared the incoming agents a short glance before she focused again on her call. The man sitting beside her was a few years older than her, but there was no doubt that she was the one in charge. She slid the papers across to him and made a waving gesture with her hand. He quickly started going through them until he found a particular one and offered it back to her. She tore it out of his hands without a word of thanks.

Lisbon softly nudged Wylie with her shoulder, reminding him to say something. The young agent cleared his throat.

“I’m Agent Wylie,” he said and four heads turned around to look at him. “And this is Agent Lisbon. We’re with the FBI and have a few question for you.”

“Have you found him?” the young woman asked, her voice shaky.

“No,” Wylie said apologetically, “I’m afraid not.”

He had to speak loudly to be heard over the continuous talking of the woman at the table. Lisbon narrowed her eyes and focused on her, trying to remember the name Hendriks had told them.

“Miss Wellington.” Hearing her name made her finally look up.

“I’m kind of busy, here,” she said. “I’ll need another five minutes.”

Lisbon shook her head. “Whatever you’re doing, I’m afraid it has to wait.”

The woman already didn’t seem to be listening any longer.

“Hey!” Lisbon spoke louder this time, making everyone in the room flinch. “This is a murder investigation. I have to ask you to put your phone down - now!”

The tone of Lisbon’s voice was unmistakable, and the woman disconnected her call grudgingly, but not without throwing an angry glance in Lisbon’s direction.

Wylie addressed the group of young people on the couch. “You were the ones that went looking for Professor Danvers?”

They all nodded and the one to the right spoke.

“He didn’t show up to our meeting, which was very unlike him. Greg was never late.” He looked at his two fellow students and then back to Wylie.

“I’m Dave and this is Laura and Rob. We’re... we’ve been Greg’s… I mean Professor Danvers’ PhD students.”

Wylie nodded and scribbled something down on his small black notepad. It looked suspiciously similar to the one Cho always used, and Lisbon had to suppress a grin. It seemed Wylie tried to learn from the best. He hadn’t yet managed Cho’s deadpan stare though.

“Which one of you checked the diving room?” Lisbon asked.

“That was me.” Rob said, his voice quiet but steady. Lisbon noted, however, that his hands were trembling slightly.

“Greg used to dive early in the mornings, so I went there.” He looked at his hands, speaking very softly now. “We’ve always told him that it’s too dangerous to dive alone-”

“And against every security protocol there is,” Dave added, “But he just wouldn’t listen.”

“What did you do next?” Lisbon asked.

Rob took a deep breath. “I... I first thought he might have disconnected the air supply after he came back.” He swallowed. “So I checked Deep thought and that’s...”

“You checked what?” Lisbon asked, confused.

A condescending huff came from the other side of the room. “That’s the name they gave to the diving machine...how very mature of them.”

Wylie grinned and Lisbon presumed that he got the reference, whatever it was.

“You checked the machine...” she encouraged him to continue.

“Yeah,” Rob said. “I checked the monitor and when I saw...” he had to stop and start again. “When I saw what had happened, I called Laura and Dave.”

“Why didn’t you call the police immediately?” Wylie asked.

“But we did,” Laura said, “the moment we arrived in the diving room.” She took a shaky breath herself. “I can’t believe he’s dead.” She dabbed at her eyes, wiping away some fresh tears.

Wylie looked at her, full of compassion, and Lisbon took it on her to ask the next question.

“I know this is difficult, but I have to know where all of you were at twenty past eight this morning.”

Laura gasped. “You...you think one of us did this?”

Dave shook his head. “Well, it doesn’t take a lot to figure that out, does it?” He looked at his fellow students, who stared back at him in shock.

“There’s only the five of us, isn’t there? It must have been someone in this room. There’s no other way.”

Rob laughed, a harsh laugh. “And it doesn’t take much to know who.”

He stood up in one swift movement, accusingly pointing at the two oil company employees. “You wanted us gone for weeks,” he shouted at Wellington.

“You accuse me? Are you out of your mind?!” she laughed. “Why would I need to kill anybody for that? Your project is dead - we all knew it. It’s just a matter of a few weeks until you’ll have to leave. We’ve finished dismantling everything of importance. They’ll break down the platform before the year is over.”

“Liar!” Laura cried.

“Stop it,” Lisbon shouted. “All of you!” She pointed at Rob. “You - sit back down.”

She looked at each one of them in turn. “You need to calm down and then tell us where exactly you were at the time of the murder and whether anyone can testify to your whereabouts.”

It took Lisbon and Wylie over two hours to collect the individual statements and a lot longer trying to make any sense out of them. They’d set up a small workstation in Professor Danvers’ former office, where they could talk without being overheard by anyone.

“What a mess,” Wylie said, as he looked over their notes for the third time. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Lisbon buried her face in her hands for a moment. “It has to. We’re just missing something.”

Wylie went back to the video footage. They got recordings from all the remaining cameras, but they didn’t help. The oil platform was huge, and for each path covered by a camera, there were three others that allowed someone to slip by unnoticed.

Wylie sighed. “The videos are of no use. We have to rely on their statements.”

“Which say that no one was even near the diving room at the time of the murder. And of course they’re all each other’s alibis. The three students were together and the same for Wellington and her assistant Daniels.”

To make it even better, Lisbon got a text from Cho that moment. She skimmed over it.

“The tech guys are finished with the crime scene. No usable prints on the murder weapon.” She threw her phone on the table. The sky outside had long turned dark, and they were no closer to solving this case than they’d been when they arrived on the oil-rig.

Normally she would now put Liam to bed and enjoy a few hours of quiet with Jane before their little man got hungry again. Lisbon closed her eyes and sighed.

“It’s getting late, Wylie.” She stood up and stretched. “Let’s leave it for today. We have to talk to all of them again tomorrow, at least one of them is lying and we have to find out who.”

Wylie yawned and nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll collect everything we have so far and send it to Cho. Maybe he and Tork will have more luck.”

                                                     ACT TWO

 Morning…

 The next morning didn’t start any more successfully than the evening before.

“Tell me you have something,” Lisbon said to Cho as he called them.

“Not really. At least not any evidence that could help us.” It was obvious over the phone that Cho was equally frustrated as her, which was a bad sign. If it reached the point where she could hear this in Cho’s voice, it was pretty bad.

“However, there’s help on the way to you. We’ll see whether he’ll be of any use.”

Lisbon’s heart rate sped up. “Help?” She didn’t believe Cho would send Tork their way, not considering his last helicopter flight.

“Jane is coming?”

“Yes. He thinks it’s a very intriguing situation. Five suspects on a remote platform.”

“I bet he does,” Lisbon murmured, but she couldn’t hide how happy she was about this new turn of events.

“He should be there any moment. Last time I called him, he had boarded the helicopter in Corpus Christi.”

Jane hadn’t called her, which was so typical for him. She smiled - he never could resist an opportunity to surprise her. Well this time Cho had ruined it, not that it mattered.

“Thanks, Cho.”

“I just hope he doesn’t make it worse.”

He had a fair point, and Lisbon felt slightly worried all of a sudden. The tension on the platform was high enough without Jane playing them off against each other, and that’s something she could very well see him doing.

She said goodbye to Cho and hung up before turning to Wylie, who was again brooding over the video footage.

“Reinforcements are on their way,” she informed him. “Cho is sending Jane in the hope that he might be able to stir something up.”

“That’s great!” Wylie was sincerely relieved. They were at an impasse, and a new pair of eyes was exactly what they needed, even more so if they belonged to Jane.

Lisbon stood up. “He should be here any moment. I think I’ll go outside and wait for him. Why don’t you try to get everyone into the kitchen, so that Jane can meet them all at once?”

Wylie grimaced at the prospect of convincing everyone to meet in one room again, but he complied. “Sure.”

Lisbon put her hands in her pockets and stared up to the sky. She hadn’t thought about putting her jacket on and was now slightly shivering in the cold. Her face lit up as she saw a helicopter in the distance. It was almost ridiculous how much she’d missed him after only having been apart from him a day. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting that...well not unless he did the same. She grinned at the thought. She also very much missed her son, but maybe with Jane’s help there was a chance that she’d be able to see him sooner.

She stepped back, using her arms to shield her face as the helicopter landed on the platform and the wind lashed water droplets towards her.

Jane stepped out, smiling as he jogged towards her. He looked as handsome as ever, despite the wind in his hair. Sometimes it was almost annoying how good he could look in any situation.

“Hey,” he greeted her, his body shielding her from the wind as the helicopter took off again.

“Hey you,” Lisbon replied, stepping on her toes to kiss him.

Jane pulled her against him for a moment. “I missed you,” he said. He felt her smile against his skin, as she pressed a kiss to his neck.

“I missed you too.”

He let go of her and she stepped back, looking up at him.

“How’s Liam?” She played with the cross, ring and family charm on her necklace, obviously nervous.

“He’s perfectly fine, Teresa. He seemed to like the new nanny at the daycare when I brought him this morning.” He took her hands in his, to stop her from fidgeting.

Lisbon took a deep breath. “Good.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I can’t wait to see him again.”

Jane tightened his grip around her hands. “And I’m sure he feels the same.”

He grinned at her. “You don’t wanna know how I am?”

She opened her eyes, an amused twinkle in them. “Well, considering that I trusted you with our son, I hope you can cope one night without me.”

Jane sighed theatrically. “It wasn’t easy; I can tell you that.”

She softly elbowed him in the ribs. “Let’s get to work. The sooner we’re done here, the sooner I’ll be able to come home.”

“I couldn’t have said it better.”

He followed Lisbon through a metal door into one of the large metal buildings on the platform. She threw a glance back at him.

“You did okay last night, didn’t you?” She eyed him, slightly worried. His insomnia had become increasingly better over time, which also could be because, thanks to Liam, they hardly got enough sleep on a regular basis, so that even Jane’s body used every chance for rest it could get.

“Don’t worry, Lisbon. I slept like a baby.” Just not in his bed, but there was no point admitting this to her, was there? It would remain his and Liam’s little secret, that he’d slept in the rocking chair in his son’s bedroom.

Lisbon didn’t seem fully convinced, but for now she let it go.

“So,” Jane began, “what exactly should I expect?”

“A war zone,” Lisbon huffed in exasperation. “Seriously, the moment those five are together in a room, they start accusing each other.”

Jane tapped his finger against his lips. “What’s your take?”

Lisbon stopped and looked at him. “Honestly... I have no idea. I just can’t picture any of them as a murderer. Especially not cutting someone’s air supply.” She shuddered - it seemed such a cruel way to die.

“Sounds like an intriguing mystery. I can’t wait to meet them.”

“If Wylie was successful, they’re all in the kitchen now, waiting to see you.” Lisbon tilted her head to the side. “Unless they’ve killed each other.”

Jane chuckled at her frustration. It was a tiny bit amusing.

“I have to admit,” he said with a smirk on his face. “I was a tad surprised you didn’t crack the case already.”

“What?” Her voice was quite a bit higher than normal - he had to be careful.

“I just mean... it’s only five people. Isn’t that every detective’s dream?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing,” Jane tried to sound innocent, but he couldn’t stop grinning.

She murmured something under her breath. Oh, how he’d missed her.

“Sorry,” he said, “I don’t think I got that, could you maybe repeat it?”

“Just wait until you talk to them. Let’s see whether you’re still smirking then.”

Jane hated to admit it, but maybe Lisbon had had a point. After half an hour with all five suspects, he was feeling a sense of frustration - and annoyance.

“That’s it!” he said, standing up abruptly. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense.”

They all stared at him in shock. With the exception of Lisbon, who looked rather smug. Well, he probably deserved that.

What he needed was a change of strategy. He needed to tackle this from a different angle, meaning he had to start with the two weakest links in the chain. Laura and of course Daniels, the almost invisible assistant of Anne Wellington. He’d hardly spoken a word since Jane had entered the room.

“Nonsense?” Anne asked indignantly. “I’m wasting my time here, on your orders, and you have the impudence of calling it nonsense?”

Jane looked at her. “Yes, I do. I’ve had enough of your lies. Seriously, I don’t know what’s wrong with you people in general and especially you Miss. Maybe it’s the isolation, maybe the oil vapors in the air, but you clearly have a problem. A man died and all you’re talking about is time and money.”

“What!” she proclaimed. “You just insulted me.”

“And I’d be happy to do it again.”

“Jane!” Lisbon had stood up and was now slowly positioning herself in between him and Anne Wellington.

“I’m very sorry. He didn’t mean it that way.”

“I surely did. She’s cold and insensible... and it doesn’t seem very intelligent to me. A professor was killed on your platform, more specifically a professor that spent his whole career showing the devastating effects your industry has on wildlife. The media will love this story. If anyone should have an interest to solve this case quickly, it’s your company - ergo you.”

“Jane, that’s enough.” Lisbon caught his eye, and he knew that he had to stop.

“You’re right.” He straightened his vest. “I think I’d like to have a word in private with some of you.” He turned around and focused on Laura. “Why don’t you come with me?”

She seemed startled. “Me?” She looked at her fellow students, as if for support.

“Yeah, you and maybe...” his eyes found Daniels, “what about you? Let’s step outside this door for a moment and have a chat.”

As soon as they left the kitchen behind them, Jane suggested that the two of them show him the crime scene. He didn’t say a single word while they walked to the diving room. He wanted to give them a false sense of security and allow them to relax. That was the only reason why he suggested to visit the murder scene in the first place - to give them some time.

With each step they came closer to their destination, Laura became increasingly more agitated.

“Is that the room?” Jane asked as she stopped in front of a door. She nodded, not looking at him. She was shaking now.

“Is everything alright?” Daniels asked - he had noted her tremor too.

“Yes, I guess,” She took a shaky breath. “It’s just...I don’t wanna go in there again. Knowing what happened...”

“That’s alright, “Jane said softly, “you don’t have to. I’m sorry, I didn’t consider how difficult this might be for you.”

She looked at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“Were you close to him? To your professor?”

She sniffed. “He was such a great person.”

She used the back of her hand to wipe a few tears away. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, but Jane shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said, encouraging her to go on.

“He loved his work and what he did was amazing. He was the best boss I ever had. He always had time to help us students - it didn’t matter how busy he was.”

Jane studied her carefully. “And outside of work?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think he had a life outside of work. All he talked about was work,” she smiled, “and his plans to change the world.”

She was visibly upset by his death, but everything she said seemed sincere. She wasn’t trying to hide anything, and there was nothing indicating that her relationship with her former professor had been more than just professional.

“Sounds like a great man,” Jane said, gently patting her on the shoulder.

“He was. It’s the only reason I’m still here.” She took another deep breath. “After…after we learned what happened, I just wanted to leave this horrible place, but then I remembered. Our work meant that much to him, I can’t just leave it unfinished.” She stood more upright, visibly composing herself.

“Laura, why don’t you wait here for a moment, while Daniels and I have a look inside?” Jane suggested and she nodded.

A slight humming was the first thing Jane noted as he entered the room, and of course the opening into the water.

“Do you dive?” he asked Daniels.

“God no.” The man shuddered. He had his hands in his pockets and stayed close to the door. “But you would know how to temporarily rig a camera?”

“I guess so.” He sounded nervous. “Why?”

Jane pointed at the camera in one of the corners.

“It stopped recording during the time of the murder, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

“What? No…” Daniels stammered. “I had no idea. I told your colleagues, I was in an early morning meeting with Wellington.”

Jane dismissively waved his hand. “Yeah, I heard that story. But back to the camera, you know how to manipulate one, don’t you?”

“No, I mean…yeah I guess. They’re pretty simple, everyone can turn them off. I know that because I was the one taking most of the cameras down, but I didn’t touch that one. Wellington wanted it up and running. You have to believe me!”

That was interesting. Daniels’ eyes had flickered to the side as he mentioned taking down the cameras; he was hiding something, but Jane didn’t think it had anything to do with the murder, at least not directly.

This man was a coward in every sense; he would never dare to cut someone’s air supply, not even if he was ordered to do it.  

They both turned around as they heard quick footsteps outside. Jane would have recognized those steps everywhere.

“Lisbon,” he said as she entered the room. She seemed relieved to find him, which was odd.

“Jane, a word?”

He apologetically smiled at Daniels and Laura who watched them from the door, without stepping inside.

“I think we’re done here anyhow. Thank you for your time.”

He followed Lisbon back through the corridor. She was tense, and the moment they were out of earshot of two suspects, she rounded on him.

“You can’t just bring them down here without back-up. What if one of them is the murderer?”

Jane stared at her in disbelief. “Seriously?”

Lisbon crossed her arms in front of her chest: a bad sign.

“They didn’t do it. I was perfectly safe, Lisbon.”

“You didn’t know that when you decided to take them for a walk.”

He smiled at her in an attempt to loosen the tension. “What about Wylie? You left him alone with the rest of them. Isn’t that equally dangerous?”

“Wylie is a trained and armed FBI agent; you’re not.”

It was pointless to try and argue with her about this. Jane knew when he had lost.

“I’m sorry,” he said instead. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“I’ll make sure about that,” Lisbon said, still frowning at him. “I won’t let you out of my sight ever.”

He grinned at her. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

The comment finally rewarded him with a faint smile.

“How did you even find me?”

She shrugged. “I had a hunch.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “You had Wylie check the cameras?”

She didn’t answer, but he could see that he was right.

“So you did come all the way down here to save me? I’m flattered.”

The line between her eyes was back instantly.

“Too early for jokes? I see.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but he knew that she’d forgiven him.

“Did you at least learn something useful?” she asked as they continued their way upwards.

“Nope.”

Lisbon huffed in frustration.

“Except maybe…” he said, “Daniels got a bit edgy when he talked about the cameras. I think he was hiding something. Maybe Wylie can have another look at them.”

“He won’t be happy; he must have watched those videos a hundred times by now.”

Jane shook his head slowly. “No, not the videos, I’m sure he would have found anything suspicious on them. He should examine the actual cameras.”

“Okay…” Lisbon seemed skeptical. “I’ll tell him to have a look. What should we do next?”

“I’d like to talk to Wellington.”

“Forget it,” Lisbon said immediately. “She’s not gonna say another word without her lawyer. You managed to piss her off for good. She’s currently pulling some strings to get us all thrown off the platform. If we don’t solve the case in the next few hours, it might very well be that we’ll have to do it from Austin.”

“Just because of what I said?” It seemed like an overreaction, even for a woman like Wellington.

“Partly,” Lisbon admitted. “It might also have something to do with your prediction coming true. The media got wind of the story; it’s all over the news.”

Jane grinned. “Well, I can’t say I’m sorry about that. I hope it makes her day a nightmare.”

“You know this makes our investigation more difficult too.”

“Maybe…maybe not. Who profits most from this? Clearly not Wellington. If we find out which bird sung to the media, we might be a step closer to solving the case.”

Wylie took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. It was cold. Disgusted, he put the mug down and focused on the task at hand again. The numbers…something about them didn’t seem right. He narrowed his eyes, his nose almost touching the screen, and that was when he saw it. Excitement rushed through him. He rolled his chair to the table behind him and ruffled through the plans of the oil-platform Wellington had given him. Where had camera 43 been…. his eyes skimmed over the maps, and he froze when he found what he’d been looking for.

He stood up and left the room, dialing Lisbon’s number in the process.

“Lisbon, where are you?” he asked.

“On the way back to you, why?”

“The cameras,” Wylie said excitedly. “Jane was right. There’s something we’ve missed, or rather something that was hidden from us. I can’t believe I didn’t see it earlier.”

“Wylie, what is it?” The impatience in Lisbon’s voice was obvious.

“There’s one camera more, one we didn’t get the footage of. Wellington kept it to herself on purpose.”

“What’s going on?” Wylie heard Jane’s voice in the background.

“I’ll put you on speaker, Wylie,” Lisbon said, a loud crack following her words.

“Where’s the camera, Wylie?” Lisbon sounded equally excited.

“The office - the camera is in Professor Danvers’ office.”

A moment of silence followed his words. Then Jane spoke.

“Do the cameras record sound?”

Wylie nodded. “Yes, not all of them, but this particular one does, at least if the plans I got are correct.”

“Great,” Jane said, and Wylie could hear the smile in his voice. “Exactly what we need. Wylie, I want you to go back into the office and call Cho. Tell him that you found a discrepancy with the cameras and that you suspect one might still be hidden somewhere.”

“That could work,” Lisbon said quietly. Apparently she had already caught up with Jane’s plan.

“As soon as that’s done you leave the office. Meet us in the storage room just beside it; make sure no one sees you enter.”

A trap. A grin lit up Wylie’s face as he understood what Jane was talking about. They were setting a trap.

                                                         ACT 3

 A single light bulb was the only source of light in the storage room. Wylie sat on a wooden box, nervously staring at the screen of his phone. They used the webcam of his laptop to keep an eye on the office next door. Lisbon had been talking to Cho on her phone, but now she disconnected the call and looked up.

“Cho and Tork are on their way. They’re going to take the killer back with them.”

Jane stood up from his own wooden box and stretched his legs. It was more than an hour that they’d been cramped into the small storage room.

“That’s optimistic. What if our plan fails? Or we catch someone but it isn’t the killer.”

Lisbon shrugged. “Then they’ll help with the investigation. We’re running out of time. Cho got a call; we all have to leave the platform by 7 PM.”

Wylie looked up. “But that’s in five hours!”

Both Jane and Lisbon flinched at his loud voice.

“Sorry,” Wylie immediately whispered, checking his screen again.

“If we don’t manage to finish this by tonight, it will be a jurisdictional nightmare,” Lisbon said quietly. “Wellington is trying to get us off the case, arguing that this falls into the jurisdiction of the police of Corpus Christi. The only reason they haven’t interfered yet is because they don’t wanna bother flying out here.”

“Someone’s coming,” Wylie whispered, and Lisbon lapsed into silence. Faint footsteps could be heard through the heavy metal door, and they all held their breath as they waited. Lisbon very quietly opened the clasp of her holster, her hand on the weapon.

“He’s inside,” Wylie whispered. “It’s Daniels!”

Lisbon moved to the door, but Jane put a hand on her back. “Wait! We have to be sure that he’s after the camera.”

They all looked at the small screen again. Luckily the camera was above the door, hidden in the air ventilation, which meant that it was in full view of Wylie’s webcam. The moment the small black object was in Daniels’ hand, Lisbon moved.

The door to the office was flung wide-open, catching Daniels in plain sight.

“Don’t move!” Lisbon shouted, and he let the camera fall to the floor.

“Don’t shoot!” He raised his hands in the air; he was unarmed. Lisbon put her gun away and took out her handcuffs. She cuffed his hands behind his back and as he was safely secured, Jane and Wylie stepped out of the storage room.

“How nice of you to show up,” Jane said with a grin.

Cho opened his notebook and wrote something down. Daniels nervously played with the glass of water before him, his eyes following every movement of Cho’s pen.

“It seems we have a problem here,” Cho finally said as he looked up. “Or rather you have a problem. Obstruction of an FBI investigation, as a starter…. very likely murder too.”

“No!” Daniels gasped. “I didn’t kill him, I swear.”

“Why did you hide the existence of that camera?” Tork asked and Daniels’ eyes flickered to him.

“She told me to. It was kind of illegal what we did, leaving the camera in Danvers’ office, without him knowing.”

Cho scribbled something down again.

“Why leave it there in the first place?”

Daniels swallowed. “You’ll have to ask her. She probably wanted to keep tabs on him. But I doubt she ever looked at the footage.”

“While we’re talking, one of our agents is going through the videos, if there’s something on there that could incriminate you, it would be a good idea to speak up now. District attorneys have a soft spot for people that cooperate.” Cho didn’t even blink as he spoke.

“I told you, I did nothing. I haven’t been in his office in weeks.”

Cho’s phone beeped, and after a short glance at it, he stood up. “We’ll take you back to Austin in a moment. I’d start looking for a good lawyer if I were you.”

 Cho and Tork left a miserable Daniels in his impromptu cell and locked the door.

“Lisbon just texted me,” Cho explained to Tork. “They found something on the video.”

 “What is it?” he asked the moment they joined their colleagues.

Lisbon shook her head in disbelief. “See for yourself,” she said with Jane standing behind her, a wide grin on his face. Wylie fast forwarded the video, and both Cho and Tork couldn’t believe what played in front of them on the screen.

“That can’t be true,” Tork said incredulously.

“What are you grinning about?” Cho asked Jane.

Jane sobered instantly. “It’s incredibly sad I don’t deny that, but you have to admit, that’s for sure a twist we didn’t see coming.”

Lisbon took a deep breath. “What do you think - was it only one of them, or were all three in on it?”

“There’s only one way to find the truth,” Jane said, an eager gleam in his eyes. “Let’s go and ask them.”

Jane had suggested to gather the students into the kitchen under the pretense of informing them about Daniels’ arrest. Only Lisbon and Wylie were there with him from the team. They all agreed that the students probably were more likely to talk to people they’d met before.

“You sure Daniels did it?” Dave asked. “He seemed like such a harmless guy.”

“Only time will tell,” Lisbon said ominously. “We’re taking him to Austin as we speak.”  

“What led you to him?” Laura asked, while she prepared a cup of the tea at the counter.

“I’m afraid we’re not at liberty to tell you that.”

Lisbon looked at Jane, wondering what he was waiting for.

 “The milk is empty!” Laura complained and slammed the empty bottle on the table, making Lisbon jump slightly. Jane bit back a chuckle.

“Not that again,” Dave rolled his eyes. “For the 100th time, Laura, we didn’t drink your stupid milk.”

“Don’t look at me,” Rob added. “I didn’t touch it. You know I don’t eat or drink dairy products.” He took a sip of his black coffee.

“It must be one of you! I always thought...” she stopped, the anger gone from her voice. Lisbon observed her carefully; the young student looked downright miserable suddenly.

Laura swallowed and sat down, pushing the empty milk bottle to the side.

“I always thought it was Greg...”

They all said nothing after that. Jane noted that Wylie’s foot twitched nervously. He looked at Lisbon, and her faint grin told him that she’d noted it too. It seemed the milk thief had been revealed. Jane caught the young agent’s eyes and shook his head slightly. This new development would make their plan work even better, assuming that Wylie kept silent and didn’t confess his misdeed.

“Well,” Jane said in a sincere voice, getting everyone’s attention. “There’s something else we have to tell you.” He looked at Laura. “It’s probably better if you sit down.”

The atmosphere in the room changed immediately, and the three students stared at him anxiously. Jane could feel Lisbon move slightly beside him. He knew she didn’t like what he was going to do next and he could very well understand why. If not all of the students were part of the scheme, his little ruse would be painful. There was nothing worse than raising false hope just to crush it moments later.

“A more thorough analysis of your hookah diving machine revealed that it had been tampered with.” He made a dramatic pause at the end of the sentence, giving them time to come to terms with his words. They all seemed utterly confused; so far so good.

“What…what’s that supposed to mean?” Rob was the one breaking the silence first.

“We have good evidence that Professor Danvers didn’t die that night.”

Laura gasped audibly, but Jane continued as if he hadn’t heard her.

“We believe that he’s still on the platform; hiding.”

“The milk…that explains the milk,” Laura cried, and Jane felt a twinge of pain as he saw her sincere relief. She was clearly innocent; those feelings were real.

“But… that’s not possible,” Dave said, completely stunned. “Why would he do that?”

“We think it’s a last attempt to keep your project from being stopped. Blaming the oil company of committing a murder gives your research station the publicity and the public’s sympathy it so desperately needs to get more funding.”

“Oh god, I’m so relieved. Are you sure, he’s really alive?” Laura asked and not only she, but also Dave looked at them with so much hope; Jane felt horrible.

“No…no,” Rob shook his head. “Stop! Why are you doing this?” he asked desperately. “It’s not true. He’s dead, you know that. He couldn’t have survived.”

His breathing became erratic. “He’s dead. Do you hear me? Dead.” His eyes filled with tears. “I... I cut the cable, but he was dead already. He’s gone.”

He looked at his colleagues, who were frozen in shock.

“What have you done?” Dave asked, his voice hardly a whisper.

“He was ill,” Rob sobbed. “He didn’t have much time left.” He wiped at his eyes, looking at the table in front of him and not his colleagues.

“He asked me for help. He said if he had to die, he wanted it to happen on his terms. Let’s use it for something, let’s not waste my death - that’s what he said to me.”

Lisbon looked at Rob, full of compassion. “That’s why you helped him to stage his suicide in a way that looked like murder?”

“Yes,” Rob admitted. “He cut the air supply from his helmet at 8:20, like the sensor told you. That’s when he died.” The young student was shaking now.

“I volunteered to check the diving room and the moment I entered, I cut the cable to make it seem as if it happened here on the surface, exactly as he told me to.” He looked apologetically at his colleagues. “Then I called you.”

He buried his face in his hands “I’m so sorry.”

They all lapsed into silence after that.

A few hours later….

 The water was very calm that evening, moving slowly under the last rays of sunshine. A rainbow of colors shimmered on the water’s surface. Red, green, yellow...the colors whirled with the waves, changing their shape, slowly morphing into each other. A kaleidoscope of colors.

“It looks beautiful,” Lisbon said to Jane, standing beside him at the edge of the platform, staring into the water.

He nodded, his hand on the railing touching hers. They were waiting for the helicopter to arrive. Wylie was talking to one of the tech guys in the background.

“It’s poisonous.” They both turned around at the voice behind them. It was Dave. He seemed ready to leave the platform, a small duffle bag at his feet.

“It’s residual oil,” he explained, stepping forward and glancing down at the water meters below them.

“In all its beauty, it’s nothing but oil, slowly killing everything living here in the ocean.”

He looked up at them.

“They’re closing the research station?” It was more a statement than a question by Jane. Dave nodded; he seemed surprisingly calm about it.

“Yeah, they’re flying us out tonight; we’ll get the helicopter after you. The FBI gets priority, of course.”

“I’m sorry,” Lisbon said, “I knew the research meant a lot to you... and your former professor.”

He shrugged, not looking at her or Jane, but his eyes fixed on the horizon.

“He was obsessed about it...in the end. But it’s just a research station, one of many.” He smiled at them.

“Don’t misunderstand me, I think it was great what he did, what we did here...but in contrast to him, or the others, I didn’t think I could save the word with my work. There’s so much beauty in this world, so many things we don’t understand... that is what drives me. If I help to save the planet at the same time; great news, but it’s not what keeps me going.” He leaned against the railing. “Research will go on. Maybe not here, maybe not by us... but you can’t stop it. As long as there are humans, there’s curiosity. I think he forgot that in the end, which makes me sad. It might have given him some comfort.”

He visibly pulled himself together and smiled at them. “Besides, I have enough data to wrap up my thesis.”

Jane grinned and shook Dave’s hand. “It was nice meeting you,” he said.

“Enjoy the beauty a while longer. It might be destructive, but it can still be beautiful.”

He walked away and Lisbon looked again into the whirling colors. She felt Jane’s hand slip into hers. They both had learned to see beauty and happiness in everything, to look on the bright side, no matter what. She leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment. She couldn’t wait to go home again; to their son.

                                                           FIN

  Writer: @keilfleckbaerbling

 Art Provided by: @mariahgem and @redjohnsarchive

 No copyright. 2016

[mentalistvirtual8-blog]

Hi! The final art pieces are due TODAY. Just a reminder. Thank you!

[mentalistvirtual8-blog]

TM Virtual Season 8 is a fanfiction author that has written 1 stories for Mentalist.

Is fanfiction.net more your style of reading? You can now find the episodes that have aired, as well as the upcoming ones that will air on fanfiction! Thank you in advance for your reviews! We know most of you are enjoying and appreciate the hard work and sleepless nights we’ve put into this project, and we thank you! We have some of the best working as writers/art makers. 

So, if you’d perfer to read them over there, be sure to do so and leave an honest review. Thank you!

[mentalistvirtual8-blog]

How is everyone enjoying our season 8 so far? Great, I hope! Just a couple of notes!

1) Don’t forget! If you would like to know what artists have worked on the episode, you can find that information at the end.

2) We could always use your help. Don’t hesitate to ask.

3) The remaining artwork is due by Sunday! If you are working on it, please have it in so we can draft the episode, @mariahgem and @redjohnsarchive.

4) THANKS FOR NEARLY 200 FOLLOWERS! It means a lot to us, and we hope you are enjoying what we are bringing you. Thank you!

5) The entire theme has been redesigned on the blog. We hope this permanently takes care of some of the visual problems you’ve had viewing the it. 

Happy reading! THREE EPISODES REMAIN UNTIL MID-SEASON.

[mentalistvirtual8-blog]

                                             THE AMBER PENDANT

                                             SEASON 8,  EPISODE 2

                                                        TEASER

The shrill ring shattered the silence.

“Seriously?” groaned Jane, his voice muffled. “Between the baby and your cell phone, we’re never going to sleep the whole night through.”

Lisbon rolled over slightly, grabbing the phone with one hand and her pillow with the other. She flung the pillow, pleased to hear it make a satisfactory thump when it connected with the back of Jane’s head. She accepted the call.

“Where are we headed, Cho?” she asked sleepily, and Jane groaned again beside her, rubbing his neck.

“Lakeway,” came the gruff reply. It seemed even the ever-stoic Cho was not immune to being woken up at four in the morning.

Lisbon slipped out of the covers and walked over to the bathroom. “Text me the address. I’m on my way.”

She turned on the light and made to hang up, but Cho stopped her.

“Lisbon,” he said, and his voice made her pause. “This one…it’s a kid, Lisbon.”

Lisbon breathed in deeply, and her eyes flashed to her reflection in the mirror. “Thanks for the warning,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” said Cho, and he disconnected. Lisbon put down the phone. Her reflection had turned ashen.

She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself before reaching for her hairbrush. She ignored the way it shook in her hands.

A steady warmth appeared behind her, and she felt the weight of Jane’s hands on her hips. He read her in a second, taking in her pallid complexion and trembling hands. Jane held his hand out for the brush.

She handed it over.

“What did Cho say?” Jane asked softly, and he began to gently pull the brush through her hair.

Lisbon waited until he was finished to answer. “It’s a child,” she whispered as he set the brush down, and Jane’s body tensed against hers.

Ten seconds passed.

“I’m only a phone call away,” Jane said finally. “If you want, I can send you pictures of Liam every hour.”

“That might make it more difficult.”

Their left hands twisted together, and her ring shimmered in the harsh light of the bathroom.

“All the same,” said Jane, “I’m here.”

She nodded, and the color began to return to her face. “I know.”

                                                       ACT ONE

The first rays of morning sunshine appeared as Lisbon slammed the car door. She took a deep breath to compose herself before taking a step forward.

“You alright?” said Wylie. The younger agent was still hoping to hone his skills outside of the office, and Lisbon had been glad when he’d offered to help out at the scene. Even with Cho and Tork—who’d decided to stick around the Austin field office a bit longer—the team still felt shorthanded.

Lisbon glanced at Wylie. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s just, you know, the first case back. I’ll be fine.”

“How’s the little man doing?”

Lisbon smiled. “Liam’s doing just fine,” she said. “His father, on the other hand, is still weighing every possible pro and con about returning to work. And he’s taken it upon himself to investigate all the daycare facilities in the area, despite the fact that the FBI has its own.”

Wylie shrugged. “He wants the best for Liam. I guess I can see that, given his history.”

“At any rate,” Lisbon said, “Jane’s still undecided. I imagine if he finds that he approves of one of the daycares, he’ll come back, at least part time.”

They began to walk towards the house.

Rather, they walked towards what was left of the house. Upon first glance it was immediately clear that a monstrous fire had decimated the structure—Lisbon and Wylie had seen the windswept ash down the road as they’d approached. What was left of the house had caved in. The roof was in pieces on the ground, and burnt beams lay sticking up in random directions like splintered bones. Judging by the sheer amount of debris, the house had been on the larger size—perhaps comparable to Jane’s property in Malibu. Behind the wreckage and dense canopies of singed trees, however, Lisbon could make out a lake, and it seemed ironic that such a pristine landscape lay just beyond a broken one.

“Lisbon!”

She and Wylie turned their attention to Tork, who was waving at them from the side of the yard, beckoning them over.

“What’s the story, Tork?” Lisbon asked as they approached. She glanced at Tork. The move to Austin had been good for him—he’d lost a few pounds and put on a tan. He also seemed more confident than Lisbon remembered. A lot had changed since she’d went on leave, it seemed.

Tork shrugged. “There isn’t really one. Yet. Cho’s frustrated—the forensic anthropologist doesn’t seem to be of much help.”

Lisbon glanced at Wylie, her eyes narrowed curiously. Wylie returned her look of surprise. It wasn’t like Cho to show emotion—especially around other law enforcement professionals.

Tork led them around the side of the property and continued speaking. “Lakeway Fire Department left just before you got here. Apparently the house hadn’t been lived in for years, and the closest neighbors on the lake live far enough away that they didn’t notice the fire immediately. It really ran its course before it was called in.”

As they turned the corner, a swarm of crime scene techs came into view, many documenting the scene either with flash photography or video recordings. Through the scorched beams of the back of the house, Lisbon could make out the set of Cho’s shoulders. He was turned away from her, staring down at the ground, hands on his hips.

That posture didn’t bode well, thought Lisbon. Tork raised his eyebrows at her as if to say, Good luck.

“You can’t determine gender?” came Cho’s voice, his tone dripping with incredulity. Lisbon noticed with a wince that he also sounded harsher than normal.

It had definitely not been a good morning for Cho.

“‘Gender’ refers to a social role,” said a female voice. “The correct term here is ‘sex’, and no, I cannot determine it from the remains.” Lisbon’s eyes were drawn past Cho to the figure squatting beside him, clearly examining something on the ground. Lisbon hadn’t met the forensic anthropologist yet, but the Latina woman had already made a name for herself at the FBI. A newly minted PhD, she had been eagerly snatched up by the government for consultant work as soon as she’d received her diploma.

The forensic anthropologist stood up and glared at Cho. Lisbon and Wylie approached the edge of the debris and stepped over the threshold of what had once been a door. Lisbon poked her head around a half-splinted beam and found herself face to face with a pair of dark chocolate eyes.

“You must be Agent Lisbon,” said the woman to whom the eyes belonged. “And Agent Wylie. I’d shake your hands, but…” she trailed off, waving her hand to demonstrate that she was elbow deep in human remains.

Lisbon almost smiled. The woman couldn’t be taller than five foot two, but clearly she—not Cho—was in charge of the crime scene.

Lisbon nodded at the other woman. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” said the anthropologist. “I’m Anna Rosales, by the way.”

“Alright, Dr. Rosales,” said Lisbon. “What do we know so far?”

“Not a hell of a lot,” mumbled Cho, tapping his pen against his notepad.

Rosales shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s true,” she said. “I can tell you the remains belonged to a young individual. Based on the state of the deciduous dentition, I’d give a rough estimate of six years old, give or take two years. I’m being cautious with the age range for right now—hopefully I can narrow that down when I get back to the lab and have a chance to do more than a cursory examination. Unfortunately, because the individual hasn’t been through puberty, the skeleton hasn’t yet manifested features indicative of male or female sex.”

“Give or take two years?” said Cho in an irritated tone.

Rosales held his gaze patiently. “Modern human variation makes it difficult to narrow down the age any further—it’s not as straightforward as they lead you to believe on TV. I don’t feel comfortable giving you a tighter window than that yet.”

Cho sighed. “Great. So we have a kid, four to eight years old, who may be male or female. No obvious cause of death. That narrows it down.”

Wylie snorted. Lisbon shot him a look.

“I didn’t say I couldn’t tell you the sex,” pointed out Rosales.

Cho looked at her in exasperation. “Actually, you did.”

Rosales grinned. “Actually, I said I couldn’t tell you the sex based on the remains. But the individual is female.”

Lisbon looked at the remains for the first time, intrigued.

She pushed thoughts of baby Liam aside for the moment and concentrated on the child before her. The fire had burned away the flesh—all that was left were the charred bones.

And a pendant—still wrapped around the cervical vertebrae.

Lisbon bent down to get a closer look. She caught a whiff of a faint scent.

“Is that…is that pine?” she asked.

Rosales nodded. “Amber gives off a pine-like scent when it burns. So before the stone became distorted by the fire, it was amber.”

Lisbon looked up at Rosales, considering. The pendant was clearly ornate—not something a six year old boy would be caught dead in.

“A girl, then,” said Lisbon.

Rosales smiled. “And there you have it,” she said.

Lisbon stood up. “Thank you, Dr. Rosales. Let us know if you find anything else, alright?”

“Of course, Agent Lisbon.”

Lisbon carefully made her way out of the charred tangle of beams, Cho and Wylie on her tail. When Wylie headed off to talk to the FBI techs, Lisbon pulled Cho aside.

“What’s the deal?” she said. “Levelheaded Cho suddenly loses his head? What’s going on?”

Cho took a deep breath. “You’re right. That was unprofessional. I need to go apologize.”

Lisbon caught his arm as he made to move past her. “As your subordinate, I can’t tell you what to do. As your friend…well, that would probably be a good idea.”

Cho shook his head as if to clear it. “She just…she rattled me. I’m not used to feeling…rattled.”

Lisbon looked at him curiously. “You sure that’s it?” she asked. “You’re…rattled? Not…something else?”

Cho looked at her like she’d started speaking Greek. “What else would it be?” he asked, brushing past her to head back to Rosales.

Lisbon watched as he began speaking to the petite woman again. Rosales smiled, and the corner of Cho’s mouth twitched up.

“Yeah,” said Lisbon, rolling her eyes. “What else would it be?”

                                                       ACT TWO

Several hours later, Lisbon and Wylie had finished canvassing the houses on the perimeter of the lake.

“That was productive,” said Wylie cheerily as they walked down the driveway of the last house. The sun was just beginning to sink, and Lisbon sighed as she unlocked the SUV and opened the driver’s side door. Wylie climbed in opposite her.

“Really?” she asked, surprised. She looked over her shoulder to reverse out of the driveway, then put the car in drive to head down the road to lead them to the interstate.

Wylie shrugged. “Well, we can at least say that it’s a waste of time to investigate any of these people further. Did any of them strike you as being capable of murder?”

Lisbon’s brow furrowed. The old lady with seven cats had certainly seemed odd, but as Lisbon knew very well, odd didn’t always equate with murderer. “I guess not,” she said grudgingly. “I hope Cho had more luck tracking down the owner of the house. We really need a solid lead on this one.”

As if on cue, her phone buzzed to signal an incoming call from Cho himself. Lisbon put him on speaker.

“Anything useful?” asked Cho without preamble.

“Wish I could say differently,” said Lisbon. “But none of the neighbors saw anything unusual. Guess that’s not terribly unexpected if the fire began sometime late last night—everyone would have already been asleep.”

“Damn,” said Cho. “Nothing on my end either. The house has been vacant for years. It was owned by a Timothy Kane before his wife died in ’08, but Kane moved to Arizona after that. I tried to get in touch with him—only to find that he’d been killed in a car crash with a drunk driver soon after his wife died.”

Wylie glanced at Lisbon. “Anything strange about the deaths?”

“Not that I can find,” said Cho. “Margaux Kane died of breast cancer; the man who killed her husband in the crash is still in jail.”

Lisbon pulled onto the interstate. “Who owns the house now?”

“Their son—someone named Erik Kane. But he has a solid alibi—he’s studying materials science at Cambridge University in England. Hasn’t been home in three years.”

“Did you get to talk with him?” asked Lisbon.

“I called and left a message—by the time I tracked him down, the time difference would have meant it was midnight his time. I didn’t give any details but told him we’d keep trying to reach him.”

Wylie looked hopeful. “He might know something then.”

“Maybe,” said Cho. “Tork is working with the crime scene techs—he should be emailing you photographs and videos of the scene. He’s also been looking through missing persons records from the last couple years to see if he can figure out who the victim is. Hasn’t found anything yet.” Lisbon heard Cho take a deep breath. “Listen, guys, don’t bother coming back to the office—it’s been a long day. Just take a look at the stuff Tork sends when you get home.”

“You got it, Cho,” said Lisbon. “Any news from Rosales yet?”

“She’s been examining the remains all day. I’m going to see her to get an update in the morning. How about you and Wylie meet me at autopsy tomorrow, alright?”

“See you there,” Lisbon confirmed, disconnecting the call.

Silence enveloped them for a minute, then Wylie glanced at her. “You mind if I turn on the radio?”

Lisbon smiled in spite of herself. She could picture Wylie being a closet country fan. “Go for it,” she said.

Wylie scanned for a while before landing on a popular music station based in Austin. The last notes of the newest Sam Smith song echoed through the car. “Darn—we missed it. That song is my jam!”

Lisbon had to laugh. “You know, I really missed you, Wylie. It’s…it’s good to be back.”

Wylie grinned at her, and her heart melted a little at how easy it was to please him. “I’m glad you’re back, Lisbon. Things just weren’t the same.”

“It’s been a crazy year,” Lisbon said without thinking. When she realized what she’d inadvertently referred to, she looked over at the young agent. “Speaking of which, how are you doing?”

Wylie wrung his hands and took his time in answering. “For the most part…good,” he said. “There were a few weeks…you know, right after…after Michelle died. That was the worst. But, um, actually—Jane reached out to me. Talking to him really helped.”

Lisbon checked her blind spot before pulling out to pass a slow-moving truck. “He talked with you?” she asked, somewhat surprised. It was difficult for Jane to talk about his past—even with her. “Sorry,” she amended. “That’s really personal. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Wylie shook his head. “No, really, it’s okay. It was really good advice—basically he just told me to live in the present. To grieve for her but not be consumed by her. He said living like that—living with her ghost—wasn’t really living at all.”

Lisbon glanced over at Wylie, surprised by how composed he appeared. “You seem…good, Wylie.”

“It’s a process,” he admitted. “But Jane’s advice really helped.”

Lisbon nodded and gave him a soft smile. “I’m glad,” she said. “I only wish Jane had had someone to tell him the same thing.”

After Lisbon dropped Wylie off, she turned onto the dirt road leading to her renovated cabin. As she pulled up to the house, her phone went off, signaling the email she’d been expecting from Tork. She turned the car off and spared a glance toward the cabin—where light streaming from the windows stood in stark contrast to the looming dusk—before checking the message.

As she swiped through the photos, she couldn’t help feeling like they were a bit useless. Everything about the scene, after all, looked very much the same—all black, all burnt. She sighed. She wasn’t going to get anything out of these photos, especially if the FBI techs hadn’t already.

But she knew someone who could.

She hit the fourth number on her speed dial and unbuckled her seat belt.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Lisbon!” came Rigsby’s voice. “How are you? And how’s Liam?”

Lisbon smiled. “We’re all good. Liam, it seems, only wants to sleep during the day—but you know all about that, huh?”

Rigsby chuckled. “Do I ever. So you’re back at work then? How’s your first case going?”

Lisbon ran a hand through her hair. “Well, I was wondering if you could help us out.”

“You got an arson case?” From his tone, it was obvious that he was intrigued.

“Probably,” she admitted. “Though as you know, arson’s near impossible to prove.”

“Do you have something I could look at?”

“A lot of stuff, actually,” she said. “Loads of pictures and videos—and one of the new techs had the idea of combining all the photos to reconstruct the scene. Tork says the tech is working on a 3D reconstruction, but that might take a while. I can send you the pictures and videos now, though.”

“Yeah, I’ll have a look at them tonight. This will be great—Grace and I have been working a lot of cyber stuff recently, so I’ve got to find a way to keep my arson background up to date.”

There was a loud crash on Rigsby’s end. He swore loudly. “Sorry, Lisbon—got to go. Duty calls.”

“Thanks, Rigsby. I owe you.”

“No worries, Boss.”

Rigsby hung up, and Lisbon realized belatedly what he had called her. She felt a pang of nostalgia for their days at the CBI.

Then she looked up at the cabin and saw Jane walk by the window, holding what looked to be a sleeping Liam in his arms. She smiled.

Some days she missed her past life.

But she wouldn’t trade where she was now for anything.

                                                     ACT THREE

Lisbon opened the door to the cabin and was immediately enveloped in a strong pair of arms.

“Well, hello to you, too,” she said, wrapping her arms around his torso.

“I missed you,” Jane murmured into her hair.

“I love you,” she whispered back.

Jane pulled away but rested his hands on her elbows. He stared at her. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Yeah. These types of cases are always difficult.”

“And even more so now, I would imagine.”

She nodded again.

“I just put Liam down,” said Jane, “and I have about five more minutes’ worth of prep for dinner…”

She kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

And she stepped to the side to peek into the nursery, closing the door behind her. She tiptoed to the crib and leaned over it, smiling.

“Hi, sweetie,” she cooed, the words almost silent.

Liam stirred in his sleep, turning over and rolling into the moonlight streaming across his bed.

“Were you good for Daddy today?” she whispered. “Or did you give him a taste of his own medicine? I almost hope it was the latter.”

Though her arms ached to hold him, Lisbon knew better than to rouse the baby. It would take hours to get him back to sleep. Instead, she kissed her fingertips and touched them lightly to the crown of his head.

“Love you, Liam,” she whispered, and she crept out of the room.

“It was weird not seeing you at work today.”

“It was weird not being there.”

Lisbon smiled and turned over to look at her husband. She could just make out his outline in the dark. “You know what else is weird?” she asked, squashing her pillow into a more comfortable position.

Jane raised a tired eyebrow at her.

“I think Cho and the forensic anthropologist hit it off today.”

“Really,” said Jane, and he turned toward her. “Do tell.”

“He was flustered when he was talking to her.”

Jane smirked. “Cho doesn’t get flustered.”

“He does around Anna Rosales.”

There was a beat, and then Jane spoke again. “Huh,” he said. “Interesting.”

Lisbon narrowed her eyes. “I know that tone. What are you planning?”

“Me? A plan?” he asked, the picture of innocence. “Why, Lisbon, whatever would make you think so ill of me?”

“Oh, please,” she said.

Jane chuckled. “Okay, I’ll admit to the planning. And the scheming. But admit it—you missed it. And me.”

Lisbon kissed him softly and then sank back down onto her pillow.

“Yes,” she said. “I did.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I am not.”

Lisbon stood with her hands on her hips. “Tell me you’re kidding,” she said, as Jane emerged from the bedroom holding Liam. Lisbon immediately noticed the return of Jane’s signature three-piece suit.

“Can’t do that, Lisbon, because I’d be lying.”

“You can’t come into work, Jane! Who’s going to watch Liam? You haven’t enrolled him in daycare yet!”

There was a knock on the door, and Lisbon rolled her eyes. “You really do have a plan for everything, don’t you?”

She opened the door to find Wylie holding a stuffed duck.

“Hi Wylie,” Lisbon said. “What did Jane say to convince you to watch our bundle of joy for the day?”

“He didn’t have to say much,” said Wylie. “I love hanging out with the little man. Plus, I found Ducky the other day while shopping for my niece’s birthday, and I couldn’t wait to give him to Liam.”

“Ducky,” Lisbon muttered under her breath, stepping aside to let Wylie pass her. “Jane, did you clear this with Cho?”

Jane nodded. “He says he doesn’t care who’s doing the work as long as it gets done.” He handed Liam to Wylie, who made a face at the baby and showed him the stuffed duck.

Liam cackled and reached for the toy.

Lisbon rolled her eyes but leaned in to kiss Liam. “Thank you, Wylie,” she said sincerely as she pulled away.

“No problem,” he said.

Jane stopped to wave at Liam, and Lisbon felt her heart expand. Then suddenly, Jane was ushering her out the door, his hand at her lower back.

“It’ll be just like old times, huh?” he said, grinning.

She had to smile in spite of herself. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

                                                      ACT FOUR

The forensic science division of the Austin FBI field office had grown considerably in the past few years, necessitating a move across town for a building with more space. Autopsy was in the basement, and Jane looked around at the dreary, hospital-like walls and shuddered.

“Can you imagine working like this every day? Staring death in the face?”

Lisbon shrugged. “It’s not so different from what we do,” she pointed out.

Jane conceded this and slowed down as his gaze fell on something. Lisbon stopped as well, her eyes moving further down the hall to find out what had caught his attention.

“Ah,” he said, smiling. “You were right, Lisbon. Love is in the air.”

Sure enough, Cho—looking more intense than usual—was already chatting with Rosales in her office. They appeared to be bickering over something. Lisbon didn’t take this as a good sign. Jane, however, did.

“Do they remind you of anyone?” he asked, his expression thoughtful.

Lisbon stared at him blankly. “Um…no?”

Jane sighed. “Don’t they remind you of us? You know, at the beginning? When all we did was tease each other and argue?”

Lisbon turned her attention back to Rosales and Cho. The forensic anthropologist stood up from her chair to make a point, a smug expression on her face. Cho remained stoic. And suddenly, it clicked for Lisbon. Rosales, with her confidence and dazzling smile, was every bit as charming as Jane had been when Lisbon had first met him. And Cho, in his intensity, was reminiscent of herself several years ago.

“I don’t see it,” said Lisbon, deadpan, just to vex Jane. “But they are kind of cute together, I admit.”

“Exactly,” said Jane, and he headed off down the hall.

“Wait,” hissed Lisbon, running to catch up. “Jane! What are you planning? Jane!”

They entered the office at the same time, and it took Cho and Rosales a few seconds to notice that company had arrived. Jane cleared his throat, and Cho’s head snapped over in his direction.

“Dr. Rosales, this is Patrick Jane,” said Cho, taking a step back from the anthropologist. “Jane, Dr. Rosales is the forensic anthropologist who’s consulting on the case.”

Rosales held out her hand, and Jane shook it enthusiastically. “Enchanted,” said Jane.

“You’re Patrick Jane?” asked Rosales.

“Guilty.”

“There are stories floating around about you, you know,” she said, raising one eyebrow.

Jane grinned. Lisbon rolled her eyes. The idiot was actually flattered.

“What kind of stories?” asked Jane eagerly.

Rosales smiled but refrained from answering, instead choosing to pull out a couple of photographs.

“I didn’t find much on the skeleton in my examination,” she said. “Macromorphologically, there was nothing abnormal about it—besides the fact that it was burned—and devoid of flesh, of course.”

“‘Macromorphologically’?” asked Lisbon.

“Big picture,” explained Rosales. “Meaning I didn’t find any major fractures, and at first glance the bones appeared non-pathological. However, I also took some samples for analysis at the microscopic level.” She pointed at the pictures. “These are micrographs of bone tissue, and these bullseye-like formations are osteons, which are a main component of bone tissue. What’s interesting about these osteons is that many of them have microstructural cracks.”

Lisbon looked up. “The bone has micro-cracks?”

“At the histological level, yes,” said Rosales. “They’re too small to have been seen on my cursory examination at the scene. I typically see cracks like this when remains have been frozen.”

Lisbon’s brow furrowed. “So she was frozen and then set on fire?”

Rosales looked at her with steely eyes. “It would appear so.”

“Explains why Tork couldn’t find anything in missing persons,” Cho said.

Jane caught on. “The body could have been frozen for years,” he said. “Meaning the child probably didn’t go missing last night. You’re going to have to look at a wider time range for missing person cases.”

“We’re on it,” said Lisbon, grabbing Jane by arm and dragging him from the office. “Thanks for your help, Dr. Rosales.”

Jane sputtered at her as she pulled him down the hall. “Lisbon!” he said. “I didn’t even get a chance!”

Lisbon gripped his arm tighter, afraid he’d run back if she let go. “A chance to do what, Jane? Play matchmaker? Don’t think I haven’t figured out your plan.”

Jane let her lead him up the stairs and out the front door of the forensics headquarters. “Come on, Lisbon, everyone with eyes can see that Cho needs some assistance in this department.”

Lisbon laughed. “And you’re the best person to help him with that? You were celibate for ten years! Talk about the blind leading the blind.”

“You wound me, Lisbon,” said Jane, feigning a hurt look as he climbed into the SUV on the passenger side. Lisbon slammed the driver’s side door and buckled her seat belt.

“Cho won’t want you to interfere,” she said pointedly.

“Just you wait, Lisbon. They’re going to end up married, and when they do…I will magnanimously refrain from telling you ‘I told you so’.”

“Oh, brother,” said Lisbon, and she pulled out of the parking lot.

Back at the office, Lisbon joined Tork in expanding the search for a missing person case to match the details of the body they’d found.

Jane returned to his couch.

Within a half hour, they’d found two missing person cases in the past thirty years which seemed to fit. Lisbon looked at Tork. “I’ll call one set of parents—you got the other?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Ask about the pendant?”

Lisbon nodded. “If one set of parents recognizes it, then we’ve identified our girl.”

The middle-aged woman who spoke with Tork ended up positively identifying the pendant. Lori Thompson had given her daughter, Amber, a pendant for her sixth birthday. Amber had fallen in love with the pendant because the stone had the same name she did—and because a fossilized butterfly had been enclosed inside it.

Amber’s parents had filed a missing person report in 1979, about four months after her last birthday. They’d heard nothing about their daughter’s whereabouts since.

The parents, now in their sixties, stopped by the FBI headquarters that afternoon.

Lisbon made to stand up to go greet them, but Cho put an hand on her shoulder. “I got this,” he said.

Lisbon nodded, grateful. She went to go sit beside Jane on his couch. “I don’t think I could have done it,” she said when Cho had shut the door to his office.

Jane took a sip of tea and then put the cup on her desk. “Done what?” he asked.

She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t think I could have told them their daughter was dead. Their girl…” she stopped, getting a hold of herself. “My job seems to be getting harder.”

He took her hand. “Maybe you’re just getting softer,” he said quietly.

She gave him a sharp look.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “It’s a good thing,” he said. “I promise.”

She nodded. “I hope.”

The Thompsons, it turned out, seemed to be mostly unhelpful. Their memories didn’t appear to be anywhere near perfect, and the passing of more than thirty years’ worth of time certainly hadn’t helped.

Cho sighed as the doors to the elevator closed, carrying Mr. and Mrs. Thompson out of the bullpen. He walked over to Lisbon’s desk.

“Anything?” he asked.

“Jane and I were brainstorming, and we realized that someone would have had to hide that body for thirty years—which would mean they would’ve needed a large freezer. I know it’s a long shot, but we’re looking into storage facilities. Since Lakeway is pretty small, there’s only two. Tork headed over to check both of them out—he’s going to ask and see if any of the units have suddenly stopped being paid for after thirty plus years.”

Cho nodded. “Good. Let me know if that pans out.”

“Will do,” said Lisbon. “Oh, and I managed to get a hold of Erik Kane. I told him about the house.”

“How’d he take it?”

Lisbon shrugged. “Pretty well. I mean, the guy is studying at Cambridge, so he probably has no desire to return to Texas. And now he can cash in on the insurance money.”

Cho leaned against Lisbon’s desk. “Can you do me a favor and look at Amber Thompson’s medical records?”

Lisbon looked up at him. “I can call the hospital and have them sent over.”

“That’d be great. The parents said Amber was diabetic—they remembered being worried when she disappeared that whoever had her wouldn’t know what to do if her blood sugar dropped.”

“What are you expecting to find in the records?” said Lisbon, already dialing the hospital’s number on her phone.

Cho shrugged. “Anything. Nothing. I’m not sure.”

He walked away.

                                                       ACT FIVE

Lisbon was looking over Amber Thompson’s medical file when her phone rang.

She swiped at the cell. “Rigsby—hi,” she said.

“Sorry, Lisbon, I’ve got to make this quick,” Rigsby said. “I’m in the middle of a case—a security breach that Grace and I are looking into. Anyway,” he continued. “I looked over the photos you sent me—it certainly looks like arson to me. There’s a bunch of small details—easily overlooked if you don’t have experience in arson. However, your FBI techs might not agree with me because—well, like you said—arson is notoriously difficult to prove. I’ll write up the findings and send you a report with all the details,” he added. “But it would really help your case if you could prove the death occurred before the fire. Then it looks like someone set the fire to hide evidence.”

“Yeah, that’s what we’re working on now. Thanks Rigsby. This is helpful—always good to have you on board.”

“Thanks, Lisbon. I’ll talk with you and Jane soon, alright? Grace says hi.”

“Tell her and the kids hello for us,” said Lisbon.

“Will do. Take care.”

As Lisbon was hanging up, the elevator dinged. Tork walked out, leading a disgruntled-looking, dark-haired man in handcuffs. Lisbon stood up, following them with Amber’s medical file still in hand.

Tork deposited the man in the interrogation room and then joined Lisbon on the outside. As he shut the door, Cho and Jane walked over.

“So I checked out the two storage facilities in Lakeway,” said Tork. “First one was a waste of time, but the manager at the second one was unbelievably helpful. Didn’t even ask for a warrant—probably wanted his clients to take the blame rather than himself. Anyway, he said there was a unit that hadn’t been paid for recently—and this particular unit had had a history of timely payments for over thirty years. So I opened the unit, and guess what’s inside?”

“I don’t need to guess,” said Jane. “So he rents the unit?” He motioned with his hand to the man sitting in the interrogation room.

Tork nodded. “Yeah.  This guy—name is Wolff, by the way—paid cash every month for the unit. But Wolff is claiming that he never knew what was in the unit—apparently, someone has been paying him to store stuff in his unit. Wolff also claims he was getting a substantial bonus for the trouble he goes through. I wanted to put him through the lie detector test.”

Jane grinned. “You mean me?”

“The one and only.”

Cho gestured for Jane to enter interrogation. Tork followed him inside.

Lisbon and Cho walked around to observation.

Wolff was short—probably only about five foot five inches—and Jane seemed to tower over him even when both were seated. Jane leaned back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. Wolff began to twitch nervously.

“He didn’t do it,” said Jane suddenly.

“What, already?” said Tork. “You didn’t even ask him a question!”

Jane turned to face the observation glass. Even though he couldn’t know where Lisbon was, he looked right at her. “This guy is not composed enough to knowingly get involved in this type of business and be able to hide it. He’s telling the truth. You can let him go.”

Cho sighed.

Tork made to stand up.

“Hold on,” said Lisbon, her eyes suddenly glued to the file she was holding.

Cho glanced at her. Then he tapped on the glass. Jane left Tork to watch over Wolff and appeared at Lisbon’s shoulder a few seconds later.

“What did you find?” he asked.

Lisbon looked up at Jane. “Amber almost died from diabetic shock right after her sixth birthday.”

Jane looked at her curiously. “When was she diagnosed as diabetic?”

“When she was four.”

Jane’s eyes widened slightly. “She had a history of diabetic emergencies, didn’t she?”

Lisbon just nodded, her voice gone. She showed him the medical file.

Cho ran a hand through his hair. “Her parents never learned how to manage her condition,” he breathed.

“She died from diabetic shock,” said Jane in agreement, “and her parents hid the body to keep themselves from being charged with neglect.”

Cho stepped out of observation and headed to his office. He returned a minute later with two files and stepped back into interrogation. He opened the files and passed them to Wolff, who stared down at the pictures in front of him.

“Do you recognize these people?”

Wolff looked at the photos. “The woman—no. But the man…he was the one who paid me the cash.”

“Damn it,” swore Lisbon, and the medical file slipped from her fingers onto the floor.

Jane reached out to grab her elbow.

“How could the hospital not report what was going on? All those doctors and nurses…they had to have known. And child services? No one saw? No one…”

“I know,” said Jane grimly. “I know.”

She grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together. He squeezed her hand tightly. Gathering her composure once more, Lisbon dropped his hand, took a deep breath and reached down to grab the dropped file. She straightened up and stepped towards the door, her shoulders set.

“Ever my Lisbon,” Jane said behind her. “Every day I discover new dimensions of your strength.”

She turned around and smiled at him weakly, not trusting herself to speak.

“You’re such a great mom, you know that?”

She turned away, her eyes misting over again.

Two hours later, the Thompson's were in custody. Both had confirmed what Jane, Lisbon, and Cho had surmised—Amber had died of diabetic shock. The Thompson's hadn’t been vigilant in monitoring their daughter’s condition, and at only six years old, Amber had not been able to manage it herself. The father, Greg, had been in and out of Gambler’s Anonymous meetings for the past forty years. Lori had struggled with depression. Both parents hadn’t been capable of raising a daughter, let alone a daughter with diabetes.

It was a fellow member of Gambler’s Anonymous who’d recommended hiding the body when Greg had called him in a panic. Greg’s GA buddy had also suggested contacting Wolff, who’d agreed to pay for the unit—albeit without knowing what it was for.

As the Thompson's were being escorted out of the building in handcuffs, Lisbon found Jane in the break-room, sipping a cup of tea and staring pensively at the wall.

“Hey,” she said, stepping into the room.

He looked up and gave her a half smile.

“This case was rough,” she said softly. “Even considering the cases we normally work.”

He nodded.

She held his gaze. “You’re not coming back to work, are you?” she asked. “With this case turning out how it did—I can see you wanting to walk away from all this for good.”

Jane set down his cup. “No,” he said firmly after a few seconds. “I am most definitely coming back. In fact, I’ve already made arrangements for Liam at the FBI’s daycare center next time we need someone to watch him.”

Lisbon blinked at him. “Really?”

Jane nodded again. “You and me—this is what we do. We catch the bad guys. We make them pay for what they’ve done.” He took a step towards her. “I want to keep doing that. Especially after the case we’ve just had. People like Amber—they need someone to speak for them. And we do that. We give them back their voices.”

Lisbon closed the distance between them and stretched up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I would have supported you with either decision,” she said slowly, pulling back to look at him. “But I’m really, really glad you want to come back. After all, this is what we do. It’s who we are. And I love who we are.”

He smiled again at her—this time a real, full smile—and she couldn’t help but return it.

Later that evening, the team was finishing up paperwork when Jane suggested ordering case closed pizza, and they congregated in the bullpen when the delivery arrived. Wylie brought Liam—and Ducky—along, and the team debriefed him on how the case had been tied up.

Wylie swallowed a bite of sausage. “But why now?” he asked. “The parents could’ve kept paying the money for the storage unit, and they would have gotten away with it.”

“Greg Thompson was a gambler,” said Lisbon, sitting next to Jane on the couch and watching him rock Liam in his arms. “He had just lost a major bet—they couldn’t afford to keep paying Wolff. And they lived a couple miles from the house on the lake—Lori passed it every day on her way into work, so she knew no one was living there. They dumped the body there and tried to burn the place up so that there’d be no evidence.”

“And they almost succeeded,” said a voice. Lisbon looked up to see Rosales standing by the elevator.

“Dr. Rosales,” she said, smiling. “We couldn’t have closed the case without you.”

Rosales smiled and gestured to her phone. “Mr. Jane invited me for case closed pizza. He claims it’s a tradition—and I admit, pepperoni is a weakness of mine.”

Lisbon glared at Jane, who was grinning broadly. “Stop meddling,” she mouthed.

“Meh,” he said quietly.

Cho handed Rosales a plate and offered her his chair. She grabbed a couple of slices before accepting the seat, and she turned her body to face him, smiling slightly as she did.

Jane raised an eyebrow at Lisbon.

Lisbon swatted his shoulder. “You’re incorrigible,” she said.

He grinned at her. “But you married me anyway.”

She leaned her shoulder against his and looked down at Liam. She closed her eyes for a second and focused on Jane’s deep breathing beside her.

“I’m glad I did,” she whispered.

                                                       FADE OUT

Writer: @halfagonyandhope

Art by: @mariahgem and @miwakosato and special art piece by @thaysquint.

We don’t own TM. 2016. 

[mentalistvirtual8-blog]

Hey there, I wanted to express my sincere love for what your doing, thusfar, and my immense passion for The Mentalist (as well as the Jane/Lisbon--sorry, Patrick/Teresa Jane). But I also wanted apply as a writer, so how should I send a sample? Thanks

Hi! Thanks for the kind words! We are glad to keep the Mentalist alive for the fandom who appreciate what we are doing. If you would like to send us a sample of your writing, you can do so via our submit (but it isn’t a requirement!). We can definitely use you for the back half of our season, which we will be discussing soon in preparation. We have a special chat forum for writers as well, so if you are still interested, we can send you the link to that, where we can freely discuss ideas and arcs and art. :)

If anyone else reading this ask would like to contribute by writing or adding art, please do not hesitate to contact us! We have some of the very best writing/illustrating, and we would love to have you. Please don’t be discouraged by lack of English language or think you will mess something up. You won’t. We discuss EVERY single detail and approve them by majority, and every single member of the team reads over the scripts and is listened to and their input is vital to the finished script. Please don’t hesitate. We need and want you!

[mentalistvirtual8-blog]

How in the world do I post on your tumblr site? I want make some comments about the first ep, Sapphire Skies, on how much I loved it. ---Hmmm, well, For now I guess in here.---I loved them on the case & in act 5. Sounded just like them. An' Jane up to some of his usual shenanigans...& getting punched in the nose!! Wheehehehe! Missed him getting punched in the nose. He's so cute "running" to Lisbon for protection, w/that puppy-dog look on his face. And his "Meh". I love his "Meh" Missed that too.

You are doing it right ;) Or, you can reblog the post and add your comment to it, as well!

Thanks for the kind words. We will make sure Mayzee see’s your comment :)

[mentalistvirtual8-blog]

Amazing first episode! A blast from the past (Jane's resemblance to Roger - the fact that he wanted to do one last heist job but that didn't go too well, the Island, my blue heaven), an interesting case, precious details like the Sapphire skies title and the perfectly in character dynamic between the two of our protagonists! The romance was lovely and well balanced with their new roles as parents, you explored their insecurities, fears, longings very well. I loved it, Mayzee is brilliant.

P.s- I was touched and warmed by the line "...Teresa, my wife and mother of my son." It's good to hear that from Patrick Jane.____Our reply: Thank you so much for your kind words about our first episode! We will pass your message on to the lovely and talented Mayzee. Thanks for the feedback. See you next week. :)

[mentalistvirtual8-blog]

                                                 SAPPHIRE SKIES

                                              SEASON 8, EPISODE 1

                                                        TEASER

Knuckles turned white as her hand grasped his as it lay on the armrest between them. His wife looked over at him alarmingly as the single propeller plane continued to make its bumpy descent, her gold cross and band bouncing around her neck as she turned in her seat.

"Ah...Teresa, can you loosen your grip a little?" Jane remarked, grimacing slightly at Lisbon's powerful handhold.

"You remember what I told you when you asked me the same question when I was giving birth?" she bit back with, glowering at him.

"I believe it was something along the lines of 'Go to Hell, you jackass’. And I'm paraphrasing. I edited out the rather more colorful suggestions you made to me that day," her husband chuckled back.

Despite her fear of imminent death she grinned as she recalled the birth of their son, softening her hold in the process.

Their child.

Even over a year later she still found it hard to believe that their lives had changed so dramatically in that time. After sitting in neutral for over a decade they'd suddenly put on booster packs and the last year had fast-forwarded their relationship, forever altering it. Jane had finished restoring the cabin he'd bought for them, putting as much passion and zeal into its renovation as he had in solving cases. She'd gone from field work to desk duty to maternity leave.

Then Liam had arrived and suddenly late night diaper runs, breastfeeding and never ending washing had taken the place of working, going over case notes and having time to eat a meal at a table together. But she wouldn't change a moment of the past year. Well, maybe she could have done without the heartburn and the swollen ankles and the inability to get off a couch unaided in the latter stages of her pregnancy. But as soon as that tiny human being was placed in her arms she forgot all of the pain and discomfort that went before, swept away on a cloud of euphoria and pure love. She and Jane had been living on it ever since.

Her thoughts on their child, she didn't realize they were on the ground until a loud thud disturbed them. "Thank god!" she stated, raising her eyes to heaven and fingering her cross as she saw lush greenery around her as the plane rolled to a slow stop on the dirt runway.

Jane whispered in her ear, "I told you I should have put you in a trance before we took that connecting flight."

The airport shuttle pulled up at the white bricked Hotel and they trudged off, both sticky from the sweltering heat of the rickety bus ride.

"I'm glad you're not wearing your suits here," Lisbon commented, fanning her face with her hand, as she glanced at him in his white shirt and faded blue jeans combo, a look he'd adopted when he'd started to renovate the cabin. And creature of habit he was it was his normal outfit of choice in everyday life more often than not now. She was pleased she had chosen to travel in a purple cotton maxi dress for their second chance at a honeymoon, its loose and flowing material giving her freckled skin some respite from the burning rays of the midday sun.

He chuckled as his eyes darted around the complex for a second before he took Lisbon's hand and strolled towards the reception desk in the main building as a busboy picked up their luggage.

"This must bring back some memories, huh?" Lisbon whispered at his side, goosebumps alighting on her bare arms as she felt the welcome breeze of air conditioning.

His squeezed her hand. "You could say that." Recollections hit him squarely in the face of the years spent here and for a second his expression turned melancholy until he faced her where a dazzling smile took its place. "Come on, let's get checked in." His smile grew when he saw the young man behind the reception desk do a double take when he lifted his head from the computer in front of him.

"Patrick!"

Jane was quickly embraced in a hug as the man rushed from behind the desk. "Hey Franklin, I see you've moved up in the world!" he beamed, patting the other man's back.

"Yes!" Then suddenly Franklin's face fell, "Patrick is...is everything all right? Are you in trouble-?"

"No," Jane laughed, glancing at Lisbon who was looking at the sight unfold before her, evidently amused. "For once I'm not. Just here on vacation for a few days."

“Only a few days? Surely you can stay longer?!”

“Afraid not. Obligations back home,” he grinned, casting a sideways glance at Lisbon. “Very important obligations indeed.”

Jane managed to withdraw from the other man's grip and put his arm around Lisbon's waist. "Actually we're on vacation. Well, honeymoon really. Kind of. Franklin, I'd like you to meet my wife, Teresa."

Lisbon smiled at Jane and then at Franklin. "Hi, it's a pleasure to meet-"

"You are Teresa? Teresa Lisbon?!"

Lisbon frowned as she noticed Jane color a little at the younger man's words. "I...I may have mentioned your name once or twice when I lived here," he whispered in her ear.

"Really?" she grinned, arching a self satisfied eyebrow.

He shrugged, "Maybe. Just in passing, of course."

Lisbon regarded him skeptically, still smiling. "Sure, in passing, of course."

"Wow, this is some place. Nice of your friend to upgrade us," Lisbon remarked as she stood in the center of their large suite after Jane tipped the busboy and closed the door of their hotel room.

"Not bad, huh?" he smiled as he set their bags on the king sized bed.

"And best of all it has air conditioning."

Suddenly Jane stopped what he was doing and put a hand to his ear, frowning as he listened. "What is it?" Lisbon said, mirroring his expression.

"The quiet," he whispered with a wink.

She laughed then began to play with her hands. "It feels weird though, doesn't it?" she frowned.

He quickly took the few steps required to stand opposite her and put his arms around her, settling his hands on her hips. "Just the two of us. Yeah, it does," he admitted. "It's mostly just been the three of us in our own little bubble for the past six months. But you know Grace and Wayne will be great with him. He’s so much more alert now than when they last saw him and he took to them right away when they came to stay with us before we flew out here.”

"Yeah, I know. Hope they'll be okay at the cabin. It was sweet of them to offer to come babysit him there."

"I think Rigsby was looking forward to taking Ben fishing at the lake. And easier for Liam too to be in his home environment at this stage. But I detected an ulterior motive from Grace wanting them to get away from San Francisco and work for a few days."

"Oh?"

"She's trying to talk Rigsby into having another one of their own."

Lisbon grinned, "Is that so?"

He nodded, "Yep. But I'm not sure being in a house with a teething baby is going to necessarily help her cause."

She bit her lip. "God, I feel bad now. Maybe we shouldn't have left him so early, Jane."

"We talked about this, Lisbon. It's just for a few days; as long as he's fed he'll barely miss us. They'll more than make sure he's spoilt rotten." He paused, "It's harder on us than it is on him. Do you want to Skyface them again or whatever?"

She rolled her eyes. "I know you are not that much of a technophobe, Jane. And we agreed to limit ourselves to checking on him four times a day. We only talked to them two hours ago before we got on that death trap of a plane. They'll think we're crazy and don't trust him with them if we keep calling them."

"They're parents themselves. They'll understand."

Just as Jane's words were uttered Lisbon's cellphone beeped, alerting her to a text message. A photo of Liam, sound asleep and dressed in a San Francisco Giants sleepsuit greeted her, a wisp of a blond curl peeking out from a matching hat. As she showed it to Jane he kissed the top of her head as her eyes grew teary. Softly, "Seems Grace has inherited some of her cousin Yolanda's psychic skills after all," he joked, his voice tender but raw.

Lisbon wiped a stray tear from her eye as she laughed. "Damn hormones. And I'm going to tell her you said that. And I'm going to kill Rigsby for buying him that outfit."

"But clever of him to wait until he had some space between you before he dug it out," Jane laughed.

She puffed out a breath to gather herself. Louder, "To be honest I was surprised you suggested a trip away, I could barely get him out of your arms the past couple of months to feed him or put him down."

He tightened his hold on her as his expression turned serious. "Well that's partly why I thought we should take some time just for us. I don't...I don't want to become one of those fathers, Teresa."

"How do you mean?"

He sighed. "One of those parents who lose a child and then become overly protective of another one. And you know...well...I have a tendency to become quite obsessively overprotective with those I love. I don't want him to feel like I'm holding him back from experiencing life like a child should just because of what happened to Charlotte. I need to learn how to release the reins when I feel myself pulling on them a little too tightly."

She pulled him closer, linking her hands together across his back. "You would never allow him to feel like that, Jane. You're a great father. Both then and now."

He kissed her softly on the lips. "Thank you for that. I love you."

She pecked his lips in return. "Love you too."

A beat passed as he cleared his throat. "Anyway, another reason for the trip now is that you're going back to work next week. After that who knows when we'll get another chance? Plus, well our honeymoon was spent with your head down a toilet. Not exactly the romantic getaway either of us was hoping for."

She laughed, "Yeah, the morning sickness was not fun. Especially when it turned into afternoon and evening sickness too. But it was a pretty swanky bathroom in that hotel at least."

"Looking on the bright side, eh?" he smiled.

"Like we agreed. So far it's worked out pretty well."

He glanced at the photograph of their son again. He whispered, "Can’t deny, it has that."

She released him as her tone turned bossy. "Now, let's grab a shower so you can show me around this old stomping ground of yours. We're only here for a couple of days; let's make the most of it. After all your letters I feel like I know the place already. Can't wait to see it with my own eyes."

He smirked, "That's another thing we haven't had time for in a very long time, my dear."

"What’s that?"

"Been able to have a shower together."

She kissed him firmly on the lips with a twinkle in her eyes. "Well, it would save time. And water."

"Not necessarily," he grinned.

"It's just like you described," Lisbon said after they completed the tour of the town Jane had lived in for almost two years and sat at the beach bar he had frequented almost every day. Jane sipped on an afternoon cocktail and Lisbon a bottle of beer as they stared at the azure ocean in front of them as waves lapped the nearby shore.

Locals had greeted him as they'd passed through the streets with a slap on the back and a smile. Lisbon noticed the kids especially who tortured him for magic tricks as soon as word had spread about him being back. Jane, being Jane, had rehearsed a few new ones as he obviously expected the request on his return.

"We'll take a walk on the beach after this," he smiled, his fingers grazing over her wedding ring. "Sunsets here are amazing."

"As long as you don't leave me standing there looking at it on my own," she smirked over the rim of her bottle. When she saw his expression turn anxious she laughed, "I'm kidding, Jane. That was a long time ago. We've come a long way since those days."

He kissed the tips of her fingers. "Certainly have." He sighed happily, "I've always wanted you to see this place. Thought about it...often when I was here on my own."

"You don't appear to have had a shortage of friends when you were here. Everyone we talked to today seemed happy to see you."

He smiled lazily at her. "Acquaintances, not friends, Lisbon. Not speaking the language-"

"Yeah, I noticed that. My Spanish is better than yours. How come you never learned to speak it properly?"

He shrugged, "Suppose I thought of being here as somewhere temporary, if I had made a concerted effort to learn the language then it would have seemed somewhere permanent. And..."

His fingers lingered on the back of her hand, "And that would have meant I'd accepted that being here forever was going to be my life."

"You hoped to come home one day?" she prodded, leaning over the table and shifting her sunglasses to the top of her head to look in his eyes.

"Hoped to see you again one day," he smiled, pecking her lips. "So, in answer to your question, yes."

Jane heard a drawer being opened in the dim light of the hotel bedroom the next morning. He palmed the space beside him, finding it empty. "Lisbon?" he croaked as he blinked his eyes open.

"Yeah, go back to sleep," she whispered from the other side of the room.

He rolled over onto his back and just made out her form as she pulled on a T shirt. "What time is it? Is Liam-?"

"Just gone six. He's fine. Got a text from Grace. Apparently he slept through the night for them. Typical, huh?"

He frowned and ran a hand down his face. "Did you say six? What on earth are you doing up at this hour, woman?" He groaned and rolled back onto his side, "Come back to bed."

"I'm going for a run before it gets too hot out there for me. Just a couple of miles up and down the beach." She sat on the bed to tie up her trainers. "You could always get up and come with me," she smirked.

"You're hilarious," came the muffled reply. He peeked out from under the bedclothes. "This is meant to be a chance for us to relax and recharge our batteries before you go back into the fray, Teresa." He drew back the sheet to entice her. "Come on, another hour at least then we'll see about hiring that car to take a drive to the other side of the island."

She stood up and crossed her arms across her chest. "I have to get back in shape. I'm back at work next week, Jane. I have to lose a couple of baby pounds still."

He raked his eyes over her body. "Not from where I'm lying," he smiled, raising an eyebrow.

She blushed, "Behave yourself. I'll see you later."

She arrived back an hour later to find the room still in darkness. "Jane!" she said sharply, startling him from his slumber and making him jump as she drew back the curtains with a flourish. "You're still in bed!"

"How astute of you," he mumbled with an eye roll, shielding his eyes from the sunlight streaming across the bed.

"Get up," she told him as she stripped off her T shirt and headed to the bathroom.

"Can you give me five minutes then I'll join you?" he said as he yawned and stretched his back.

"No. There's been a murder," she called from the bathroom as she turned on the shower.

His head flopped back onto the pillow. "Well of course there has," he murmured with a sigh, smacking his hands across his face.

                                                        ACT ONE

Fifteen minutes later they were strolling towards the fountain in the center of town to the murder scene, a group of onlookers and two local cops circling a body that lay just beside it. "So, tell me again why we're helping?" Jane asked, an irritated edge to his tone.

"People were trampling all over the scene, Jane."

"And let me guess, you told the local cops you worked for the FBI and offered our help."

"Of course I did. Detective Suarez said we could take a look and report back any findings back to him."

He stopped and turned to her. "Lisbon, this murder could be related to the drug trade. It's pretty widespread around here. Last thing we need to do is get mixed up in some kind of retaliatory strike from one drug kingpin to another. We shouldn't interfere."

"You think I didn't consider that before I suggested our help? The man murdered is not from here. English I heard one of the bystanders say. I've seen drug hits, this isn't one. Poor man was probably a tourist just like us. Come on, I’m sure it won't take both of us long to figure this out then we can enjoy the rest of the trip."

Jane sighed wearily as he got closer to the body and slowed his pace, over a year since he'd seen a dead one with his own eyes. He was in absolutely no hurry to see another. Meanwhile Lisbon rushed ahead and began talking to the two local police officials she'd met earlier. While the elder of the two Edward Suarez questioned a woman standing opposite him the younger one, David Areta, translated any Spanish into English she couldn't understand from Maria Hernandez, the middle aged woman who’d found the body.

As Jane approached the scene Lisbon introduced him to the officers quickly and he nodded politely to them before turning his attention to the man lying on the ground a couple of paces away. He blinked rapidly for a second as he recognised him. "Roger," he said quietly, taking a breath.

He knelt down and noticed the large gash at the side of the white haired man's head as Lisbon approached him and the obvious cause of his death. "Mrs Hernandez says she found him at five thirty this morning. She was on her way to work at the hotel to prepare breakfast. Initially it was thought he must have fallen over and knocked his head against the side of the fountain when he was drunk but looks to me like he was killed elsewhere then moved here. That’s what I told Suarez earlier.”

“I agree. Blood is caked around the blow to the head but barely any on the ground around here. He was murdered elsewhere. How’d Suarez take it when you told him that?”

She shrugged, “Interested, I guess. He could see my point, agreed to allow us to dig a little more, unofficially of course.”

“And Areta?”

“Didn’t look happy as it was his theory he was killed here. Seems cocky, sure of himself so his ego is bruised. I’ll tell Suarez to check out his apartment, see if it’s the primary crime scene. Good enough place to start unless...”

She stopped talking when she saw the pale complexion of her husband, his eyes flitting over the corpse as they scrutinised every inch of the man lying on the ground. His serious expression and stiff posture told her something else.

"You know him," she stated.

He nodded as he leant in to sniff him.

"Oh god, are you okay? I'm sorry, didn't think. I thought he must be a tourist. Was he...was he a friend of yours?"

"Smell him," he answered instead with a frown.

She grimaced slightly but knelt down beside him and breathed in, ignoring the quizzical looks of the people nearby.

"What do you smell?" he asked. "Apart from beer and blood that is. What's out of place?"

She responded immediately. "A woman's perfume."

"Hmm," Jane replied, getting back to his feet and brushing off the dust from his jeans. "Mrs Hernandez," he said, looking over at the first person at the scene who was currently rolling some rosary beads through her hands and shaking her head as she repeated prayers in Spanish, "I doubt she's the wearer of that particular brand of perfume."

Lisbon shook her head. "No, definitely not. I've smelt it before though...um..." She chewed on her bottom lip, "Can't think of the name. Comes in a blue bottle I think. One of the women who worked on our floor at the FBI always wore it, stunk out the Ladies Room every time she was in there."

Jane nodded slowly. "Ah, yes...you're right. The pungent Agent Jordan. Mid twenties, would you say?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"And would you say that perfume is more typical for a younger woman and less likely for-" He bit his lip.

"An older one like me?" she glared.

He grinned, "But you don't need perfume to smell wonderful every day, my dear."

"Nice save," she smirked. "But yes, it's more of a young person's scent I'd say. That is strange; he doesn't look the sugar daddy type." She touched his arm, "Who is he, Jane? Old friend?”

"Name is Roger Harwood. When I lived here he frequented that cafe bar we went to yesterday, the one on the beach." He tapped his index finger to his lips, "Wondered why he wasn't around, meant to ask Alfredo the owner but never got around to it. We talked because he spoke English, I had few and far between chances to speak it on a regular basis. On his more coherent days we talked, that is."

"What was his story? Why was he here? I'm guessing he was a fugitive of some kind."

He nodded, "Depends on who you asked. He kept the details close to his chest but he told me once he used to be Raffles," he smiled. "You know, the gentleman thief? Dashing and debonair as they come."

She smiled but looked unconvinced that the dead man beside them who wore an orange polo shirt and beige pants could ever have been such a man. He looked much too weary and broken down by life.

Jane interrupted her thoughts. Quietly, "Being on the run and living in paradise isn't as much fun as some people might think."

Their eyes locked he continued, "Being alone will change anyone if they live in their own world for too long." He glanced at the body again. "And Roger, well, he was here for over fifteen years. I'm sure he wasn't the same man he was when he came here in his forties. He'd mostly lost himself by the time I met him."

A beat passed as she noticed his expression cloud over, something personal and unsaid he wasn't ready to discuss. "Enemies?" she enquired instead.

Brighter, "None I was ever aware of. He kept to himself, had his routines when I knew him. Mostly surrounded by going to that bar. We should go talk to Alfredo, see if he noticed anything strange relating to Roger's behaviour lately." He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and sighed.

Lisbon tugged on his arm, "First I want us to call our son. Then Wylie. Then we'll get breakfast and talk to Alfredo."

He smiled at the mention of Liam then frowned, "Wylie?"

"Well, we could ask around here who he was but we'll likely get a hundred stories. Why bother when you have the FBI on tap to get those answers for you?"

Lisbon ended her second call just as their breakfasts arrived at the beach bar. Jane had gone into the back to talk to Alfredo as he made them breakfast after finishing her first where Jane had made faces at Liam as they placed a video call home. Their little boy had giggled throughout before proceeding to spit up formula over Rigsby. Another round of laughter from Jane and Lisbon had ensued after that event, not so much from Rigsby who had handed a still chuckling Liam off to Grace so he could change his shirt.

Jane carried the tea and coffee back with him to their table.

"So, anything from Alfredo?" she enquired as she popped a piece of mango into her mouth.

"He hasn't been in here the past two days. That in itself is strange. But nothing else. You? What did Wylie have to say?"

"I had better luck. You were right. He was a jewel thief."

Jane took a long sip of tea. "Really? Like David Niven in the Pink Panther movies?" he grinned.

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "If that helps, yes." She closed her eyes as she tasted her coffee and made a sound of utter contentment. After denying herself her favourite bean during her pregnancy she savoured every cup now she'd stopped breastfeeding. "He's from England, was involved in a big jewel heist in the Netherlands. A gang he was part of stole diamonds and some other rare gems from a supplier there. The rest of the gang were arrested when they tried to smuggle the jewels back into the UK but Roger never went back."

"He sold out the rest of them?"

"Not confirmed, Wylie's checking with Scotland Yard and Interpol but looks likely if he was the only one who wasn't caught. They've dispatched a couple of detectives to confirm Harwood's identity, should be here by tomorrow morning. Also, not all of the jewels were recovered. About six million dollars' worth in today's money are still missing. Obviously he's suspected of taking them."

Jane whistled. "Six million dollars, say he'd have gotten perhaps half that if he fenced them?"

Lisbon swallowed a piece of pineapple from her fruit salad. "Guess so. How was he living? Did he splash the cash?"

Jane ate some scrambled eggs with a shake of his head. "Here? No. But he could have run through that money before coming here. When was the heist?"

"Twenty years ago. So, yeah, you're right. He was only here, on this island at least, the past fifteen. Could have lived it up the first five someplace else."

"Or he could have only fenced what he needed when he ran out of cash. Less chance of flooding the market and arising attention to his presence that way. For all we know there could still be a fortune hidden under his mattress." After a moment he grinned wickedly at her.

She shook her head. "No, Jane. I know that look. We are not searching his place for hidden diamonds!"

"Of course not," he replied innocently. "But we could catch a clue to who our killer is by going there."

"I cannot believe you talked me into this," Lisbon whispered as they stood at the door of Roger's small apartment. "Besides, the police already checked out his place, said there was nothing here except for the fact it looked like this is where he was murdered."

"Meh, I'd like to check it out for myself than take their word for it. Especially young Areta's."

"What have you got against him?"

"His eyes are too close together. Corrupt, most probably."

She spied the lockpick set he'd picked up from their room. "His eyes are too close together? Oh well then clearly he must have something to hide," she replied with an eye roll. She added, "And who brings a lock-pick set with them on vacation?!"

He grinned as he unlocked the door, "Et voila!" he exclaimed excitedly, gesturing for her to enter first, his hand at the small of her back.

Ascertaining quickly they were alone, Lisbon looked around the drab room, a bed in the corner and a makeshift kitchenette a few steps from it, a small bathroom adjoining them. A patch of what looked like recently spilled blood stained the bare floorboards beside the bed.

"Looks like he was killed here," Lisbon observed and Jane nodded in consent.

"Well he certainly wasn't living like a millionaire, that's for sure," Lisbon added as she eyed the faded curtains and ragged furnishings. Jane smiled, the place instantly reminding him of his own modest abode when he lived here.

"Go on, I know you want to check just in case," he smirked as she began to cast her eyes around the room.

She tilted her head to the side. "For what?"

He nodded to the mattress. Grinning, "Diamonds, of course."

"More likely to find a dead mouse in this place," she suggested but curiosity soon got the better of her and she pulled the mattress up from the frame to look underneath it. "Nothing."

"Well here's something," Jane said as he pulled off a picture frame from the wall. A photograph of a woman in her early twenties stared back at them.

"Who is she?"

"His wife, I imagine."

"Look at the clothing; it was clearly taken in the 1980s. What happened to her?"

"Don't know. He never talked about her. He wore a wedding ring but..." He paused, "Well, people might keep and wear those for any number of reasons after a relationship is in the past."

"Yeah," she sighed with a smile, glancing at the thick platinum band he now wore on his finger. "I'll ask Wylie to check it out, see what his personal history is. He said to call if we needed anything else, seemed intrigued by this case."

Jane grinned, "Sounds like things are boring back at the FBI without us there to keep the work interesting."

After looking around a few more minutes and finding nothing that seemed to give a hint to Roger's killer Jane stood back a little from a shelf on the wall. "Hmm," he muttered, his brow creasing.

"What is it?" Lisbon called as she checked out the bathroom.

"Come here."

When she arrived back in the room he was taking books off the thick wooden shelf. "What are you doing?"

"The shelf sticks out more on one side than the other."

"Probably the wall, plasterwork doesn't exactly look even. Or Roger was just bad at putting up shelves."

Jane fiddled with the back of the clip that held the shelf in place before pulling the shelf out entirely. "Or something else entirely," he smiled, showing her the shelf had a large chunk of wood carved out from the back of it, leaving a hollowed out space in its place. Jane shoved two fingers into the gap and felt around before grinning at her.

Lisbon gasped, mirroring his grin. "Oh my god, have you just found his stash of diamonds?"

"You want an eternity ring? Trip to Monte Carlo?" he chuckled as he pulled out a small black pouch. Inside were at least twenty diamonds and four sapphires. "Damn, no emeralds to go with your eyes for you this time I'm afraid," he smiled.

"Wow, how much do you think these are worth?"

"Couple of mil at least I'd say, probably more."

"Wow," she repeated, gazing at the glittering jewels.

"Tempting, isn't it?" he smiled, raising an eyebrow.

"No!" she assured him.

"High voice," he laughed, putting the jewels back into their pouch and giving it to Lisbon who placed them in her shoulder bag.

"I suggest we keep this discovery to ourselves. If the police here find out about this little haul-"

"I agree," she nodded. "Couple a million in diamonds is more than enough to make anyone have sticky fingers, Law Enforcement or not. And if you're right and Areta or any of the local police are corrupt then they'll disappear for sure. I'll hold onto them until Scotland Yard arrive."

"There's something else stuck in here," he remarked as he prodded around the hole in the wood again before fishing out a flash drive. "Interesting. Roger was not exactly tech savvy. Never saw him use a phone never mind a computer."

Eagerly, she pulled an iPad out of her leather bag. "Let's see what's on it."

He grinned at her as she rushed to place the tablet on a small side table and waited for the drive to load, drumming her fingers on the table in impatience.

"What?" she asked as she glanced at him while she waited after she noticed him stare at her in amusement.

"Haven't seen this side to you in a while, that's all, caught up in the hunt like this," he smiled.

She grinned back. "I was just thinking the same thing about you."

Her shoulders drooped as the drive was recognised and she pulled up its contents. "There's a document on it but it's password protected. Hopefully getting his personal history will help with breaking it."

He nodded, "If it is Roger's then you're right, likely to be his wife's name or something along those lines. Okay, let's get out of here and we can make that call to Wylie, see what he can dig up."

She shoved the device back into her bag. "You think the drive might not be Roger's?"

"Like I said he was even less into any kind of tech than I am. And I never saw him write a thing. And where's the laptop or computer if he did write something? Doesn't fit with what I knew about him."

"So whose is it then? And why would he have it in his hiding place?"

"Those, my dear, are very good questions."

                                                        ACT TWO

Lisbon sat at the table in their hotel room checking through the faxed history from Wylie. He'd informed her Scotland Yard were keeping tight lipped about Roger Harwood's disappearance so it seemed they'd need to wait until morning to coax anything from that angle when their people arrived. So far her attempts at breaking the password on the document had failed and she huffed as Jane entered the room. He came up behind her and set his hands on her shoulders. "No luck, then."

She shook her head. "Wife's name is a bust. She died a few years ago, cancer. He probably never even knew it happened. Tried his birthplace, names of cousins, other family members, parents, known acquaintances. Nothing. He has a daughter, name is Clara, but no joy with that either."

As he pondered he began to slowly knead her shoulders, smiling as she emitted small sounds of approval as he released knots of tension. "What age is his daughter?"

"Twenty four. She was only a child when he left. Must have been hard on her and her mom, him just taking off like that."

"I'm guessing from your tone they didn't live a white picket fence kind of life."

"Hmm. No. The heist he was involved in drew a lot of press attention. Got picked up in all the papers in the UK and made a splash on their front covers for some time. From what I read online his wife was hounded by journalists after he got away. They had to leave their home, set up someplace new and with her connection to him she could barely get a job above minimum wage. She was tainted just by association. Two security guards were killed in the robbery he was involved in. It was a big deal at the time. Doesn’t look like they were killed by Roger but...well..."

Jane nodded, squeezing her shoulders. "Mud sticks. That it does." He released his digits from her skin and came around to view the pages on the table. "Are there any recent photographs of Clara amongst this lot?"

Lisbon shook her head. "No." She paused, narrowed her eyes, "You think she's the woman with the perfume, don't you? Somehow she tracked him down here."

He smiled at her. "Maybe."

"Is that a maybe because you're not sure or more of a definite maybe?"

His smile grew into a grin. "I just finished checking with Franklin about new arrivals in the last couple of days. Specifically those from the UK. He hadn't been to that bar lately so chances are someone must have visited him to interrupt his normal routine. And he's English so stands to reason-"

"It would be someone from there. So?"

"Three couples. You've just confirmed one of the women could be Clara Harwood by telling me her age."

"Wouldn't her passport tell you that? You need to show one at reception when you check in."

"Well naturally if she registered as Clara Harwood then there would be no doubt," he replied with an eye roll. "The woman I'm referring to is registered as Adele Ashford."

Lisbon frowned and pulled a sheet of paper out from under the pile in front of her. "Clara's mother's middle name is Adele."

"And I'm guessing they lived in Kent, England for a time. Ashford is a town there I believe."

She checked another sheet of paper. "You're right; she and her mother lived there for a little while. And how did you know Ashford is a town in Kent in the first place?"

He shrugged, "Memorising telephone books. Mnemonic device. And I thought you were going to stop asking me that question once we were married?" he smiled. "Like I've said before people who change their names never stray far from their roots."

"So it's her," Lisbon confirmed. "I can get it double checked by Wylie that she changed her name by deed poll. But why would she change her name at all in the first place?"

"Distance herself from his name more than likely. Can’t have been easy growing up or going to school with that stigma attached. Act of rebellion too. Sometimes people think by changing their names it’ll give them the ability to forget their past existed and simply start afresh."

"You think she killed him?"

"Well she certainly had motive by the sound of it. Let's get ready for dinner, say goodnight to our son and get a look at her. She has a reservation here at eight."

Franklin had organised a table for them on the terrace where they could catch a glimpse of Clara Harwood/Adele Ashford who was dining to the left of it. She'd yet to arrive when they took their seats. "That dress is lovely on you," Jane commented as they perused their menus. She wore a midnight blue strapless cocktail dress that he'd surprised her with when she'd unpacked her suitcase.

"I'm just glad I got into it. After this meal I might have to unzip it."

He smiled devilishly at her. "I'll be happy to help you with that later when we retire to our room."

She blushed and bit on her bottom lip. She grinned, "Oh really? Well aren’t you quite the gentleman?"

He shot her another smile before looking at his menu again.

"I put that little...discovery of ours into the room safe, by the way," she said as she put down her menu and took a sip of water.

"Hmm. Thought you would." He peered over the top of his menu, "Combination is your grandfather's birthday I take it?"

She gaped for a second then frowned. "How..." The question died on her lips as Jane raised an eyebrow in response. She pondered then said, "You knew Liam's birthday would be my first thought naturally but then I discounted it as it was too obvious. So...I went for his namesake's birthday instead, my grandfather."

Jane nodded appreciatively. "Bravo, Agent Lisbon."

She stilled for a moment at the term. "Wow, it's...it’s been quite a while since I've been called that," she said quietly with a shake of her head.

"Not too long until you're called it every day again."

She sighed and looked off to the side for a moment, the evening breeze and smell of the ocean wafting in her direction. Shortly after the waiter came and took their orders. When he disappeared again she asked, "Do you think I'm ready? To go back to work I mean?"

Jane leaned his elbows on the table as he studied her, unsurprised by the question. "Do you think you are?"

She rolled her eyes. "Jane, I'm asking you for your opinion."

"Okay then. I do. I think you're ready."

She furrowed her brow, "I thought you'd..." She gnawed on her bottom lip.

"Take any opportunity to convince you to stay at home with us a bit longer? Nothing I'd like more and if that's what you wanted too then naturally I'd encourage it." He took a breath. "But it isn't. You love what you do so you should do what makes you happy, Teresa. And that is working for the FBI."

"But I am happy right now too. I mean...the last few months have been wonderful...exhausting, challenging in so many ways but overall just wonderful."

"Fulfilled then, is that a better word? You'd be more fulfilled going back to work, wouldn't you?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes, I would," she admitted. "I suppose being away from him the last couple of days...it's given me a taste of what it's going to be like when I go back. I mean I wouldn't be away as long from him as now but...you're right, I want to work but...I love being a mom too. Feels like I'm being pulled in two different directions."

He laughed softly. "You're going to be a working mother, Teresa. I'm afraid there probably isn't going to be a day when you don't feel like that some of the time." He took her left hand in his. "We're a team. We'll manage. Adapt. We'll make it work. I can visit the office, meet you for lunch, and send you photos of him, whatever you need to make the transition easier for you and for him. And for me too to be honest, it's going to be strange not having you there with us all day. But he's not going to forget you just because you go back to work or love you any less. And obviously that goes for me too."

She smiled and squeezed his hand, her eyes misting up. "Thank you. I know I'm still a little emotional. I read somewhere it takes a woman's hormones a year to go back to normal after giving birth."

"Or maybe you're just a little less tough now you're a mother," he smiled.

She glared at him as she dabbed her eyes with a napkin. "I hope not. When he's older one of us will have to be the bad guy sometimes and I'm pretty sure that's not going to be you."

"True," he grinned.

She laughed and took a breath. "And thanks for not convincing me to stay at home. It probably wouldn't have taken much manipulation on your part. I know my going back to work must be difficult for you too, that it must make some anxieties resurface."

He shrugged, "I'll be fine, don't worry. I'll have more than enough on my plate with Liam to look after full time than have time to worry about you."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Liar. But...I appreciate you making it easier for me and not more difficult."

"All part of the job," he smiled. He noticed two figures approach the table beside them out of the corner of his eye. "Here she is," he whispered, shooting a furtive glance to his left.

A waifish blonde in her twenties with an elfin haircut was seated to their left, a man of similar age with a swarthy appearance wearing black pants and a black shirt taking a seat opposite her.

"She's been crying," Lisbon observed in a whisper before Jane had a chance to voice the same opinion.

"Yes. Too much concealer under her eyes, lack of mascara."

The arrival of their meals stilted conversation momentarily. After she'd been served her fish and had a glass of Sauvignion Blanc poured for her Lisbon leaned across the table. "She looks a little too skinny and innocent to have killed him. That was a hell of a crack to his head. What about the guy she's with? He looks more the type. Muscular, strong."

"Well properly motivated anyone's capable of murder," Jane murmured as he cut into his steak. "Just a second."

A moment later he hid the salt cellar from their table in his pocket and moved towards the other couple. Lisbon observed as he engaged in conversation for a few seconds before borrowing the salt from their table. After he sat back down he nodded, "Definitely our girl. Same nose as her mother's. Same blue eyes as Roger. And she's wearing that perfume."

"How did she seem?"

"Upset but trying to hide it from a stranger."

"You think she did it?"

Jane swallowed a piece of his sirloin and hummed in approval. "Mmm. This steak is wonderful, you have to try a piece." He cut a small piece off and placed it on her plate.

"Jane!" she whispered, exasperated. "I asked you a question."

After chewing for a moment longer he finally shook his head. "Unlikely I'd say."

"But she met him quite obviously. And saw him just before he was murdered. She hasn't spoken to the police even though they've put the word out they're looking for witnesses."

"I didn't say she wasn't hiding something, Lisbon. What do you make of her friend?"

Lisbon shrugged. "I noticed he didn't try to engage in conversation with you but he kept watching you, seems to be protective of her. They’re close but don't appear to be lovers. I don’t know why but there’s a cop vibe to him I get. I dunno, looks the strong and silent type."

"The opposite of your type then," he smiled.

"I guess he must be," she smiled in return. "Although all that work you put into the cabin you've acquired a few muscles of your own."

He puffed out his chest. "You think I could take Cho on in an arm wrestling competition now?" he laughed.

She giggled, "I wouldn't run before you can walk." After eating another piece of fish she added, "Anyway, what did you make of our man of mystery over there?"

"I agree. Not lovers."

"So?"

He frowned for a moment then grinned. “Eat up; we need to talk to Wylie again. And Scotland Yard. I have a theory.”

                                                      ACT THREE

"Are you sure this will work?" Lisbon asked Jane quietly as they took charge of a meeting room at the Hotel the following morning. Already assembled at the conference table were the two local police officials Lisbon had called that morning to inform them their presence was required to make an arrest.

"Ah...about seventy percent," Jane replied with a wave of the hand as he poured himself a cup of tea.

"Oh god. I’d forgotten what doing this was like with you sometimes."

“Oh, come on, I know you better than that. You’re having fun. Don’t try and deny otherwise.”

The door swung open and Roger’s daughter and the man she'd had dinner with the evening before entered the room, bewilderment on their faces at those present.

"Please come in," Jane smiled, "you're just in time," he added as he gestured for them to take seats opposite as he stood with a teacup in his hand.

"What is this?" the young blonde asked, glancing at the police officials. "I was told...I mean I was told that-"

"There was a discrepancy with your bill and the manager asked to speak to you about it. Yeah, that was a lie, sorry," Jane interjected.

"What's this about?!" the man at her side barked.

"Take a seat. Mr De Vries, right?" Lisbon replied calmly.

"How do you..." He frowned, "You were having dinner beside us last night-"

"Please do sit down," Jane said, "it'll go a lot faster that way, I assure you." He peered at the blonde who was fiddling with her hands. "Please. Now would you like me to call you Adele or Clara?"

She gaped at him for a second as her eyes darted to her companion then the police.

"Yes, we know who you are," Lisbon commented to her softly.

The young woman swallowed and pulled out a chair, stumbling into it blindly. “Uh...Clara,” she replied finally. De Vries, frowning at Jane, took a seat alongside and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Thank you. That's much more civilised. Now, just to get introductions out of the way for those who don't already know my name is Patrick Jane and this is Teresa Lisbon. We have many years working in Law Enforcement behind us and offered our assistance in solving the murder of Roger Harwood." He turned his attention to Clara solely. "I knew your father, Clara, and I am sorry for your loss."

Confused, "Uh...thank you," she whispered. “You know who killed him?”

“All in good time.”

"You came here to find him," Lisbon broke in. "You've been looking for him your whole life, haven't you?"

The blonde girl simply nodded.

"And you met him finally. The man you barely remembered."

After a moment to recover from the unexpected interrogation she relaxed her shoulders and took a deep breath. "He recognised me straight away," she replied in a whisper. "I thought I'd check him out first before I plucked up the courage to talk to him but..." She shook her head as a tear escaped. "He knew me as soon as he saw me in the street. I barely recognised him. He was so sad, not the person I watched in videotapes growing up or the one who used to put me up on his shoulders and march me around the living room as he sang to me."

"You were angry at him for leaving you and your mom. You came here to tell him that, didn't you?" Lisbon pressed.

She nodded, pursing her lips. "Yes. I...I changed my name when I was eighteen because I hated the mess he left us with but when-"

"When you met him you felt more sympathy towards him than anger," Jane finished for her.

She nodded mutely. She sniffed and took a deep breath. "I was so angry at him for so long. But when I met him, when I saw the life he was living here...Alone. No one to talk to. A shell of the man I only vaguely recalled..." She shook her head. "It was worse than prison, he told me, and I believed him."

Jane nodded and released a sigh of his own. "He was telling you the truth of how he felt I'm sure," he responded quietly. He glanced quickly at Lisbon and threw a faint smile in her direction. He cleared his throat as he focused on Clara again. "You convinced him to turn himself in, didn’t you?"

"Yes. He said he wanted to come home. Even if it meant going to prison for the rest of his life. He said he’d been afraid of going back, of facing my mother and me with the consequences of his actions."

“He informed on the rest of the gang in his last jewel heist.”

She nodded, “It was the first time he’d worked with that gang. They had a dangerous reputation but it was a big payoff and he hoped it’d allow him to retire for good. He said my mother wanted him to quit, to take time and focus on us instead. It was one last job he told her.” She sighed and brushed a tear from her cheek. “He normally worked alone and cleanly. He’d never hurt anyone but that day...two people died. He was appalled and didn’t want those responsible to get away with that. Stealing is one thing but murder is something else. He made an excuse that he had another job in Europe and phoned in an anonymous tip to customs so they’d be caught.”

Lisbon replied, “He knew by doing so it’d put a target on his head. And likely on you and your mother’s too once word got about in the community you lived in that he was responsible for informing on his peers. He broke one of the fundamental rules of working with other criminals.”

“I was too young to realise that at the time. My mother...she shielded me from so much when she was alive. The gang arrested, well they had ties to other criminal organisations in England and he knew by snitching on them he had to disappear. He thought by abandoning us too that we’d be safer, that we’d less likely be targeted when word got out that we’d been left destitute by him and that would be punishment enough for us. He was right in a way. They never harmed us but...”

Clara exhaled as her words trailed off.

“It didn’t stop people talking about it and you having to uproot your lifes because of it,” Lisbon finished.  “He was trying to protect you by staying away. He never got in touch with you all these years? Ask you or your mom to come be with him?”

She shook her head. “I asked him about that. Why...after a few years...when things had died down...why he never got in touch.”

“He believed he deserved the hand he’d dealt himself,” Jane answered. “That he didn’t deserve to find happiness again. He felt guilty about the life he’d left you to lead. He thought by staying out of the rest of it he was doing you and your mother a favour.”

Clara’s eyes widened and she nodded. “You really did know him. He told you that?”

Jane smiled and shook his head. “No...Just an educated guess.”

Lisbon suppressed an urge to hold her husband. It was obvious parts of this case were reopening some old wounds in relation to their own chequered history. Reading her body language he smiled warmly at her with a nod of his head that he was fine.

“Why didn’t you come forward when you heard about his death?” she asked Clara.

“I thought it was an accident at first but then...when I found out it wasn’t I was afraid...” She glanced at the police in the room, “I was afraid that they’d suspect I did it. I mean...I came here and suddenly he’s dead. I thought it would look suspicious, especially since I changed my name. That they’d think I planned it all along. I was thinking about it though, that’s why we haven’t gone home yet. Didn’t seem right to let his body go unclaimed either.”

"So, what’s your story in all of this Mr De Vries?" Jane questioned the man beside her.

After a quick glance at Clara who nodded encouragingly he began to talk. "I helped Clara find him. She didn’t tell me her real name to start with but I could tell it was personal for her straight away and she came clean soon after. I used to work with Scotland Yard, had a few leads from those days so agreed to do what I could."

"And you were fired because you began to investigate this case off the books. Obsessively so," Lisbon clarified. "A cold case that was sitting on their shelves for over twenty years. Why was that?"

De Vries glanced from Lisbon to Jane. "From your faces I'm guessing you know why."

Jane rolled up his shirt sleeves and stated, "Your father was killed in the heist Roger participated in. Your mother who had moved to the Netherlands when she married your father brought you back to the UK after his death when you were a child. You had your own reasons for tracking Roger Harwood down, joined forces with Clara when she came looking, and saw it as just the opportunity you were waiting for. Kismet even. Her mother passed away a few years ago, left a life insurance policy that allowed you both to finance your search. You didn't tell her that to begin with though, did you? Your own reasons for wanting to find him."

"No, I didn't tell her straightaway."

"But he did tell me later," Clara assured them.

Ignoring her Jane prodded De Vries, leaning over the table with his palms flat on it. "Motive for you to kill him certainly. You didn’t know how he felt about the killings. You may even have suspected he participated in your father’s murder. And unlike Clara your anger didn't dissipate when you saw him large as life. It increased."

Clara looked to the man to her right and shook her head. "He didn't...he didn't kill him! Michael, tell them you didn't do it!"

"I didn't!" De Vries yelled. "I didn’t feel that way at all! I've had enough of this! You two have no jurisdiction here!" he exclaimed, flinging his chair back and heading towards the door. “Clara, come on, we don’t have to listen to any of this nonsense!”

Lisbon made it there before him. "You're not going anywhere."

The two police officers rose from their seats to stop him as he made to push Lisbon out of the way. She fell against the wall as they made their dash a few seconds too late. Jane was there in an instant, helping her find her feet again. He squeezed her hand and she nodded to him. After, his expression became thunderous as he turned back to De Vries. "Sit back down," he told him, his stare dark and menacing.

De Vries blinked twice as he studied the man opposite him as if for the first time. Gone was any kind of amusement from Jane's gait or expression, barely suppressed rage in its place instead. Instantly he knew he wasn't a man to be trifled with. Mutely De Vries took a seat beside Clara again and ran a hand through his dark hair. He shook his head. "I...I didn't kill him. I swear I didn't," he said softly.

"But you wanted to," Lisbon said from the other side of the table. "That was your plan all along, wasn't it? Even after hearing him out you still held onto some of the anger towards him for his involvement in your father’s death.”

He looked sheepishly at the woman beside him before nodding.

"Michael!" she gasped.

"It's okay, Clara," Jane said as he took up a position beside Lisbon. "He didn't do it. He couldn't. When he saw you reunited with your father he couldn't hurt you by taking that away from you again." He smirked at De Vries. "Strong and silent types might work well to begin with but sometimes a woman needs to be told when you've fallen in love with her. They're not mind readers after all, Mike."

Lisbon bit her lip to suppress a giggle and it was hard to tell who was more shocked between Clara Harwood and Michael De Vries as both blushed at his words. De Vries spoke first, "But you said I killed-"

"Meh, don't worry about that. I knew you didn't all along. But you might want to watch that temper of yours."

Jane suddenly turned to Areta who had been watching on with satisfaction until this point. "You did it, David. You killed Roger Harwood."

"¿Qué?" the man replied in a thick Spanish accent. "Estás loco!"

Lisbon muttered at his side, "He said you were crazy."

Jane shrugged and looked sideways at her as he mumbled back, "Yeah, got that. Hardly the first time in my life I’ve been called that," he smiled. He replied to Areta, "Inglés, por favor, we have company after all."

"I...I killed no one!" Areta responded.

"Yeah, you did," Lisbon commented with a tilt of her chin. She turned to the man beside Areta, Detective Suarez.

"After Clara had convinced her father to turn himself in he went to you, Detective Suarez, didn't he?"

The older man shifted in his chair. "Sí. How did you-"

Jane cut in, "Roger told me once that you were the policeman to talk to if I ever needed anything or needed someone to look the other way. It was obvious to me there was some sort of financial arrangement in place between you two." He turned back to Clara. "Did your father tell you he still had some of the diamonds from that heist?"

Clara's eyes widened. "What! No! He said...he said he wanted to help me out and that he'd make sure I wasn't out any expense if I had to visit him in prison or with lawyer fees when we got home but I never thought..."

"He asked you to fence a couple of diamonds for him, didn't he?" Lisbon asked Suarez. "To give Clara some money for her trip home, make up some of the money she'd spent looking for him. You did that for him occasionally, didn't you? For a small price, of course."

As the older man bit his lip Jane said, "Just tell the truth, we've already been in touch with the Federal Police and checked your bank records. We know you've been doing this for years." Lisbon swallowed slightly as Jane bluffed effortlessly.

"Sí," the man replied with a heavy sigh. "For my madre...my mother. She is old...has many illnesses..."

"Hmm, I’m guessing your mother is aged about twenty with a penchant for expensive lingerie,” Jane replied with an eye roll. “But young Areta here overheard the conversation between yourself and Roger I’m guessing. And has no such scruples to wait for scraps. He wasn't satisfied with the payoff you received for your services for years, Edward. Just enough every six months or so to keep the arrangement under the radar. He was greedy.” Jane pointed at Areta. “You researched Roger, suspected by living frugally he still had quite a bit stashed away. You wanted it all. Didn't you David?" Jane smiled.

"You have no proof of any of that," the young man protested.

Jane shrugged as he stood beside him with his hands in his pockets. "No? Check your pocket. Echale un vistazo su bolsillot," he grinned.

"I'm not sure if that's the right translation or pronunciation," Lisbon whispered at his side.

"Shush, you're spoiling the magic," he replied quickly out of the corner of his mouth.

Suarez stared at his subordinate and fixed him with a steely gaze. He ordered him to do as Jane asked. "Ahora!" the older man shouted.

Areta dug into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet pouch, blinking in bemusement. A gasp escaped Clara's lips as De Vries' eyes widened.

"That sure looks like a bag of diamonds to me," Jane smiled. "You stole them from Roger's apartment the night you murdered him." He pointed to the truncheon on the man's belt. "I'm guessing that has traces of Roger's blood on it. You've cleaned it since but you'd be amazed what can be forensically recovered nowadays."

Lisbon interjected, "He refused to give you anything when you came to see him that night and threatened to turn him into the authorities if he didn't. You didn't know he'd already decided to do just that. What happened, did he threaten to do the same? Turn you in? Tell Suarez on you? Something tells me your superior wouldn't take too kindly to you undermining his own understanding with Harwood. You murdered him and moved the body to look like he’d accidentally killed himself."

“But did a pretty bad job of it,” Jane remarked.

"But I never stole..." Areta shook his head.

Jane saw him eye the gun to his side and crease his brow. "No need to do anything hasty, David. You can’t kill all of us and just walk out of here. But there might be a way for you to gain something still.”

“How...how do you mean?”

“Confess to the murder of Roger Harwood and there might be some arrangement we can come to," Jane commented. "Only the six of us know about the diamonds. No one else needs to know."

Stunned, "And what good is that to me in prison?"

"A few diamonds in your possession may be enough to buy off a judge around here. Or at least get you a reduced sentence."

Clara shrieked, "I want no part in this! How dare you-"

"Quiet," Jane commanded. "Your father wanted you to have a cut, didn't he? How else do you propose for that to happen? If we don't all agree then we hand them over to Scotland Yard who will hand them over to the police in the Netherlands who will most probably store them in a vault somewhere and none of us will get anything. Suarez can get them fenced for us with his contact if we agree now. We can all walk away with something."

"So...we compensate a murderer!"

"It might be the only way to catch a murderer," Lisbon suggested. "Areta is correct, we don't categorically have any proof. That truncheon might hold trace but there is a good chance it will not, especially with the forensics here."

"And he might not be able to bribe a judge even if it does and he does confess. Might find an honest one. It's a gamble for both of you," Jane added.

Clara eyed Jane and then Areta who was also pondering over Jane and Lisbon's words. She glanced quickly at De Vries. "Michael?"

"It's your decision, Clara. I'll back you either way."

She smiled at him and nodded and then turned to Areta. She took a breath. "I don’t care about the diamonds but I need the truth. I need to hear you say it if you killed my father. To my face. Tell me."

A glimpse of a smile from Jane as he read Areta made Lisbon smile in return before the other man said a word.

They had their man.

                                                       ACT FOUR

"I'll take those," a man in a black leather jacket with an English accent said as he entered the room with an earpiece attached after Areta had confessed. South American Federal police stormed into the room along with him, guns raised. Lisbon handed the pouch of diamonds that were sitting on the table over to him.

"You got everything?" Lisbon asked Thomas Mullin from Scotland Yard.

He touched his earpiece. "Clear as a bell. Was worried about you there for a second. You okay, sounded like you took a tumble?"

Lisbon smiled. "Absolutely fine. It was nothing.”

Suarez and Areta looked at each other, wide eyed and raised their hands.

Jane said to them, “Yeah, about that deal...afraid it’s off. Sorry about that, Edward. David, the feds here have ensured us that they will make sure you’re given a very fair trial with the most honest judge they can find. Just be careful with the food in prison-”

As Areta rose from his chair with a roar to make a grab for him Jane ducked out of his way with a laugh. As Federal police removed him and Suarez from the room and Mullin walked them out Jane turned round with a wide grin. “I’d forgotten how good-“

His words were cut off by a punch on the nose from Michael De Vries and he fell a few steps backwards.

“Ow!”

Lisbon got in between them. “Mr De Vries, take a breath. We understand you must be upset.”

“What the hell was that?” he yelled. “First that idiot calls me a murderer! Then makes it look like you’re both crooked and Clara has to watch her father’s murderer-“

“We wanted to get a confession to make sure he gets locked up. Areta’s reckless, a gambler. We suspected he’d take the bait when offered a chance at a bribe. That he’d believe he was confident enough to beat the system with some money behind him. Or just take his share and escape before he got a chance to be arrested.”

Jane patted his nose. He sniffed, “Nice touch, by the way, about the truncheon not having any trace on it, Lisbon. I think that’s what nailed it for him to confess. Made him believe he might get away with it entirely.”

“Well...why did you accuse me of doing it if you believed it was him all along?” De Vries asked him.

“Diversion. We needed to make a little scene and well...I thought by accusing you it’d be the best way of accomplishing that. You are a bit of a hothead, after all.”

De Vries frowned, “He didn’t steal the diamonds, did he? You planted them on him when he got up from his chair.”

“Actually no, I didn’t,” he smiled.

Lisbon smirked at his side. “He didn’t. It’s the truth.”

“But you did,” Clara said to her.

She shrugged noncommittally.

“It’s okay, Lisbon, they’re not going to tell anyone about our little play. Very proud of you for that move, my dear. Your training is coming along nicely. And nice false tumble to go with it,” Jane smiled.

“I thought I hadn’t pushed you,” De Vries said, shaking his head. He turned to Jane, “I thought you were going to kill me.”

“He’s a good actor,” Lisbon observed with a sideways glance at her husband.

“All part of the show. It’s not difficult to behave that way when you tell yourself your wife is in danger.” Jane chuckled, “Although Mike you would have been the one in trouble if she’d actually shown you her combat moves. Don’t let her size fool you.”

Lisbon blushed and fished out a flash drive from her pocket. “I believe this belongs to you,” she said to Clara.

The other woman took it from her and nodded. “I gave it to him the last night I saw him. He said he’d have to find a computer and someone to tell him how to turn it on,” she laughed. “You see I’ve been working on writing his life story-“

“It’s an engaging read,” Jane commented. “You should carry on with writing it. You’re an excellent storyteller. You took English at University, I take it?”

Clara frowned, “Yes, but...”

“We worked out the password. ‘Sapphire’, your birthstone, I believe.”

Clara nodded and pursed her lips as she fought back tears. “He used to always call me that. His little sapphire. It’s one of the few clear memories I have of him. He said my eyes reminded me of them. The most exquisite he’d ever seen.”

                                                      ACT FIVE

"Hey, there you are," Lisbon smiled as she saw Jane at the water's edge, his hands in his pockets and his jeans rolled up above his ankles as he paddled his feet. He turned around at the sound of her voice, smiling, and a cloud crossed over illuminating his face with a golden glow.

"Everything wrapped up?" he asked.

"Yep. I was surprised you didn't want to stick around for the applause from Scotland Yard. They said if we ever felt like collaborating with them again it’d be their pleasure.”

“I think we’ll be busy enough for the next eighteen years or so,” Jane laughed.

She raised her chin. “Strange though, we must have imagined those sapphires, the bag we gave them only had diamonds.”

“Hmm. Imagine that.”

“You gave them to Clara, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “They’re not worth that much but hopefully enough to get her home and make a fresh start, finish that book. I told her to send us a copy when she has it published.”

Lisbon looked to the heavens but smiled. “How’s your nose?"

“It’s fine. No lasting damage.”

“I swear you must have one made of titanium.”

He laughed softly and kicked at the sand, swirling the water around him, his eyes on the deep blue ocean once again. She tossed off her sandals and came to stand beside him, pulling a wrap around her shoulders. “It really is beautiful here,” she smiled.

A beat passed.

Then another.

Lisbon eyed him questioningly. "Everything okay?"

"I'm not sure," he replied quietly.

A line appeared between her eyes. "What's the matter? This case or-"

“Partly that.”

“Roger. Investigating his life made you think about what might have come of you if you’d stayed here,” she stated.

“That obvious, eh?”

She took his hand. “I’m so pleased you never had to find out. For both our sakes.”

He smiled and kissed her temple, “Me too.”

“What else? It’s obvious there’s more than that troubling you.”

He tilted his head towards her. “I’m that much of an open book to you now, am I?”

“You’re getting there,” she smirked.

After a second where he didn’t respond and her expression became troubled he turned and dazzled her with a smile. "Don't look so worried, Teresa. It's nothing earth shattering. Just a quandary I'm trying to figure out."

She threaded her arm through his and nudged him lightly. Smiling, "You don't have to do that alone anymore. Come on, Patrick."

His eyes twinkled at the mention of his seldom used forename from her lips. "Now you're really pulling out the big guns," he grinned.

"Well I've found it quite an effective means of instantly gaining your attention."

"Then perhaps you should use it more often."

Her teeth shone at him. "Ah! But then it might lose its power. You know I'm trying to say it more often nonetheless. And I know what you're doing now, trying to deflect me. What's this quandary, huh?"

He motioned for her to sit on the sand. She laid her wrap down so they could sit on it side by side and he put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer and running the pad of his thumb up and down her upper arm. "I enjoyed working this case," he began, "it was exhilarating catching a killer again. Working out the mystery. Punch in the nose aside."

She frowned as she smiled. "Okay. So what's wrong with that?"

He puffed out a breath. "Nothing at all. It's just...I hadn't really planned on...Well, these past few months, year really, I haven't missed working at the FBI at all."

"Hardly surprising with everything that's going on in our personal lives. But now, you feel different?"

He shrugged. "We talked and decided that I'd take care of Liam when you go back to work."

"Because it was what you said you wanted at the time, Jane."

"It was."

"And now?" she prodded again.

"I still want that. But...what you said once. The mental stimulation as you put it," he smiled. "And with you going back to work-"

"It's okay to want both, you know," she said softly. "A home life and a work life. That’s what you told me last night. There's even a daycare facility at the office if you decided to come back. When I spoke to Cho about going back to work he asked me what your plans were, mentioned it to me."

“What did you tell him?”

“That you’d decided to look after Liam full time like you told me. But you know he’d want you back there in a heartbeat. I think he’s finding it tough being a boss, especially since we left. He’s going to be short staffed even when I go back he said. He’s still looking to fill out the team some more.”

He nodded, "I know he’d want me back but...would you want that? Me back at work with you again? You can't foresee problems with that arrangement?" He added quickly, "I'm not saying full time. Not right now. Maybe not ever. But maybe helping out on some of the more difficult or interesting cases-"

"Why would you think I wouldn't want that?"

He bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes circled her face. "Well what happened before, when you were in danger-"

"We can talk about that if that situation arises again. And we promised to look on the bright side, remember? And it's not just me I have to worry about anymore. Or you. We have a child now. I'm a mother and it makes you reassess priorities, believe me." Before his smile grew she added, "I'm not saying I'm done with field work, Jane. Not at all. Not yet at least but...I have a great life outside of work I want to protect as much as you do."

"I know that." He troubled his bottom lip. “I’d have to check out the daycare facility, make sure it’s up to scratch before I even considered it.”

“It’s in an FBI building, Jane. The people working there have been background checked to the highest standards.”

“Not by me they haven’t,” he replied pointedly, earning him an eye roll in return.

“Oh god, I can just see you, interrogating the poor men and women working there, scaring them half to death before allowing Liam anywhere near them.”

“No need for them to worry if they have nothing to hide, Teresa. But I can see in theory it would do him good to mix with other children than be stuck with me all day too.” He pulled her closer against him, “So, how about you? You a little more prepared to go back to the FBI now?" he smirked.

She crinkled her brow.

"Being a conscientious citizen wasn't the only reason you wanted to help. You're nervous about it, aren't you? And it’s not just because of leaving Liam?"

She nodded and bit her lip. "I didn’t realise at first that was part of why I offered to help but yeah, I am a little. I think maybe I needed a dry run or something. A case where I didn’t feel pressurised to solve it in front of the team. Make sure I was up to it before I got back, give myself a confidence boost that I’ll still be able to handle the work thrown at me there. That my baby brain and changing diapers for the past six months hasn’t left me in some kind of intellectual abyss.”

“Far from it, I’d say. You were amazing, in your element. Have to admit, it was actually quite invigorating for me to see Agent Lisbon back in action again. Passionate, driven.” He smiled wolfishly at the ocean before adding, “Of course I love the gentler and dare I say more emotional Teresa too, my wife and mother of my son but...”

“But what?”

He kissed her softly. “Well it was Agent Lisbon I fell in love with. Badass crimefighter.”

Her dimples in full view, “And it was nice to see the hustler I fell for again too.”

“I had fun working with you again like old times.”

“Me too. Does that mean you might come back to the FBI then?”

He nodded slowly. “Maybe. I’ll think about it some more. If a case proves interesting enough then perhaps. On an ad hoc basis.”

She smiled, “Well one thing the FBI normally has an abundance of is interesting cases.” She pulled on his arm as she got up. “Come on, we need to check out, plane leaves in an hour. Let’s get back to our son. I can’t wait to kiss him for about an hour at least.”

“You might have to wrestle me for that privilege.”

“Well, that’s no contest.”

Jane chuckled and after a final look at the beginnings of a sunset they made their way up the beach hand in hand. “If I do decide to go back Cho better not have moved my couch,” Jane murmured. “And he better make sure the break room is stocked up on teabags.”

“Oh god, what have I let myself in for again,” muttered Lisbon at his side.

                                                            FIN

Writer: Mayzee

Art Provided by: @redjohnsarchive

We don’t own TM. 2016.

[mentalistvirtual8-blog]

First of all, we would like to thank you for the positive feedback on the special prologue! We appreciate it!

Secondly, we would like to take the opportunity to tell you that as you read these episodes, if you would like to contribute in any way, please let us know. We understand that some of you are not native English speakers, and that is perfectly fine! We’d still love to have you write/draw for us! If you would like to participate, please let us know. As you see what we are trying to achieve, you might be more inclined to help :)

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Thanks!

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I'm sorry to have to comment about this, but the printing on this page makes it impossible for me to read. Is it possible to make the writing darker? I have limited eyesight and it would be most helpful if the printing was in black. Thanks!

Thanks for your ask! I have reverted the theme back to white text temporarily until I can find a better solution or have more time to change the theme to something better. I’ve increased the font size, too! Hopefully that helps until I can find something that will work for you and you can see better. :)

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LITTLE BOY BLUE SPECIAL PROLOGUE “I think this peg goes into this slot, Rigsby,” Jane told his old friend. “See? It shows this,” he pointed to the peg on the floor, “going into this,” he held up a...

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