Ricochet (17/25)
Chapter Seventeen
Three hours ago, Teresa Lisbon had agreed to accompany Patrick Jane to the funeral of his younger brother, Edward. She had known that he had cancer without him telling her and she had known that he was losing the fight to it as well. It was also clear as day just how much of a burden it was on Jane himself. He wouldn’t talk about it - talking made situations like this painfully real - but he hadn’t needed to. She had simply been able to tell. Despite the problems she was having with her father, Lisbon had attempted to support him as best she could. She hoped it was beneficial; she couldn’t tell from face value. Although she could read people, Jane was a layer of masks and mysteries. What she sometimes thought could be the truth was only revealed to be another mask at a later date.
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she was beginning to regret her decision to accompany him. Lisbon understood his plea for tea and sympathy, she understood his need for support, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was the right person to offer it. Already, she was worried that she was going to be stepping on the toes of the mourning friends and family of Edward Jane. She hadn’t even met the man once, even briefly, and Jane hadn’t even told her much about him. All she knew about him was what she had figured out from light research and through reading Jane. Once she had become an established member of his team, she had immediately stopped actively seeking out information on her coworkers and their families. It felt wrong, like a betrayal of trust. She hoped that, by now, they knew that if they wanted to tell her something they could trust her to respect it too. Even so, maintaining that balance was tough and she found it a daily battle to fight against the natural instincts that had been nurtured inside of her by her father. Instinctively, she already knew just how out of place she was going to be at that funeral, but she was determined to remain true to her word. It was what he wanted; he wouldn’t have asked her otherwise. Jane hated to admit to weakness, so it was a Big Deal, with capital letters and everything.
They were sitting in the bar with the two women that they had spotted earlier. Lisbon immediately noted that more shots had been consumed by both women. Despite it barely being the afternoon both women were very tipsy, verging on being outright drunk. She hoped that whatever they had to say would prove to be useful even though they were intoxicated. Then again, alcohol loosened the tongue; there was always the chance that they would be more inclined to tell the truth because they had been drinking rather than in spite of it. However, despite her logical thinking, she couldn't help but judge them for their decision. She herself didn't have an especially healthy relationship with alcohol. On too many occasions, her father had drunk too much and it had always triggered his darker sides. Lisbon knew that Jane's dad had been the same; the difference between their respective fathers was that Alex Jane's alcoholism had destroyed him. Jason Hamilton's had not.
Her cellphone had rung almost persistently since they had been on the road to the crime scene. Even now they were here, it was still yet to stay silent for longer than five minutes. Lisbon knew exactly who was calling her so frequently and she wasn't going to give into him any time soon. He knew she was at work, knew that she could arrive home at any time. Lisbon had also promised him that she would come home at some point; she wouldn't abandon him indefinitely and especially without informing him. To add insult to injury, her father was capable of looking after himself. All he needed was for someone to check on him a few times a day. But, he wanted her world to revolve around him once again, just like it had in the old days. That was something that Lisbon just wasn't willing to give him, not anymore. She was a grown woman, of almost forty and if he didn't realize she deserved her own life now, then would he ever?
Lisbon tried to clear her mind of all thoughts of Jason Hamilton; a difficult task when he was so desperate for her attention, like an overgrown school child. But she needed to; theoretically, these two women could know something useful about the murder and it was her job to try and extract it out of them.
"Whose bowling ball is that?" Lisbon asked after Jane had finished with the boring - but necessary questions and the two women had introduced themselves. "It doesn't look like one that belongs to the alley."
The redheaded woman, the one who had been doing the comforting up until now snorted derisively at the very thought. From what she could see while on the lane, Lisbon had already known that it was a privately owned piece of kit. However, her insinuation had been enough for the woman to look at her like she was a dumb kid who had just recited her times tables wrong.
"Oh please, what bowling alley in their right mind would stock reactive bowling balls with fingertip drilling for the idiots of the general public to use? Of course it's not a house brick."
"Renee, please," the brunette murmured quietly, speaking for the first time since identifying herself. "They're cops. They wouldn't know the difference."
"He's the cop, I'm just a consultant," Lisbon said, unable to resist the urge to correct her. “Sorry.”
"It was your bowling ball, wasn't it?" Jane spoke, looking directly at the more desolate of the two women. Lisbon was relieved that Jane had taken the initiative to cover up the awkward silence that had followed her statement. The two women still looked lost and the sooner this was over and done with, the better.
"Yes," the brunette managed to sniff before dissolving into a flurry of tears. "It's my fault; I killed him!"
"Hush, Bex," Renee murmured, stroking a hand up and down her spine. "You didn't kill him; it's not your fault."
"Can you tell us exactly what happened, please?" Lisbon asked.
At this moment, Lisbon spotted that the barkeep - one of the few members of staff present at the bowling alley - had disappeared without saying a word to anybody. She didn't comment on it; they needed to get Bex and Renee's story straight first. Then, they would hear about Rigsby and Cho's progress with the manager. However, the man’s disappearance was mildly interesting to say the least. Though she had attempted eye contact, he had somehow managed to avoid it at all costs and that was always something that made her feel a little suspicious. He definitely had a story to tell, but the question was what.
"We come here every Wednesday morning; it's always quiet then so we're usually the only bowlers here. We come for practice for the Thursday doubles league," Renee explained and briefly she glanced over at lane five. "It's when Eddie does all the maintenance work, because there's no one around to bother him."
"Go on," Jane said encouragingly.
"We always use lanes five and six. They’re Bex's lucky lanes. If she gets a PB it's on those lanes."
"Two lanes?" Jane asked, somewhat surprised. Lisbon smirked slightly; though the technicalities of league bowling weren’t something she knew much about either, it was always fun to see Jane out of his league too.
"Yeah. League bowlers alternate lanes,” Renee answered dryly; her tone insinuated that she believed all this to be common knowledge. “It makes it fairer on both teams."
"And what happened this morning?"
"Nothing seemed wrong when we got here. We didn’t see Eddie, but that’s not strange. We just assumed he was working behind the scenes, on pin spotters or something. Besides, he’s been having problems with lane eleven for weeks now. So Karl - the manager - put us on our regular lanes and we got ready, like usual. We both have our own gear, of course. Bex was excited because she'd just bought a new ball; Eddie recommended it..."
"I am never using that ball again," Bex suddenly wailed and Renee placed a comforting hand back on her shoulder.
"Our lanes were on practice mode so we could warm up and adjust to the oil pattern. Bex went first, picked up her new strike ball, bowled it, and..."
Her voice cracked as she finished her monologue. Considering she wasn't entirely sober, she had done an excellent job at recounting the tale. But then, Bex had had far more to drink than Renee. The vacant look in her eyes said a lot; she was using alcohol to cover up the pain. Besides, she was the one feeling guilty for something that she wasn't responsible for and she was the one struggling to hold it all together. Lisbon understood what it felt like to be in such a situation and she wasn't going to judge. It would take time, but Bex would have to learn how to move on with this. Finding the person who was actually responsible would be a start of course.
"The pin spotter came down, with Edward instead of the pins?" Lisbon suggested and Renee nodded, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear as she did so.
"There was so much blood. Everyone screamed and then that was it. I called 911 and Bex fainted."
"I'm sorry, but I have to ask..." Lisbon looked pointedly at Bex who had managed to pull her head up off of the table for approximately half a minute. "Were you and Eddie lovers?"
That was enough to tip the woman back over the edge. She burst into tears again, spilt the bottle of water that Renee had supplied her with in lieu of alcohol during her last crying fit and collapsed back in a heap on the table. Renee nodded, confirming Lisbon's question although the brunette's non-answer was enough of a response anyway. That was something else that explained why she was quite as desolate as she was as opposed to the pale shock written across her friend and bowling partner's face. If they had just been acquaintances, exchanging pleasantries once a week at the bowling alley, then she simply wouldn't have acted as if her heart had been torn in two.
"They hadn't been dating long, just six months, but things were already getting pretty serious between them."
"One last thing and then we will leave you in peace," Jane said clearly and the attention of everybody involved was drawn directly to him. "Where were you between the hours of six am and nine am?"
"At Bex's. I stayed overnight to get away from my good-for-nothing husband, if only for a little bit. We arrived here dead on ten am, like usual," Renee answered, her tone clipped. "But Agent Jane, you seriously can't be insinuating that we were responsible for Eddie's murder?"
"It's just procedure," Lisbon assured them, though that wasn't of much use in Bex's case. "Thank you for your time."
They walked out together, close enough for some level of intimacy but far enough apart to not be touching. Lisbon shoved her hands in her pockets, deep in thought about the case. They had finally managed to corner and speak to the barkeep just after they had finished dealing with the two women who had discovered the body. However, he had only confirmed his name and stated that he hadn't seen anything. All he’d apparently done was come running when he heard screaming, and helped to revive Bex after she had fainted at the shock. Then, he had continued with his work and given them each a couple of stiff drinks on the house to soothe their nerves while they waited for the police to arrive. Still, Lisbon was certain that he wasn't telling the entire truth. There was something about his demeanor which hadn't settled right; something about him suggested that he was involved somehow, not necessarily with the murder but with Bex and Renee at least. She shook her head slightly as she climbed into the driver’s seat of the SUV. That was something she would have to figure out later. It was still early days in the case.
Rigsby had stayed behind to check on the security tapes with the manager of the bowling alley. He was convinced that the cameras must have picked up something, based on where the body had been hidden. It didn’t necessarily mean they had seen the murder itself, but it could have picked up the placement of the body by the killer. Both Lisbon and Jane wholeheartedly agreed with his sentiment. It definitely wasn't a coincidence; somebody wanted Edward McKinnon's body to be discovered by these two women. They wanted to send a message to these women by virtue of murder. Lisbon wanted to investigate Bex and her love life a little more, but the combination of shock and alcohol meant that it was barely possible for them to get a coherent sentence out of her at this moment in time. It was a wonder that she had been able to say as much as she had done. At least her significantly calmer - and more sober - friend had been able to give them something to work with.
But for now, they had to go and inform the family of the deceased. At the moment, they were oblivious to Edward's fate and believed he had just headed to work, as usual. Like Jane, Lisbon hated this part of the job. Sometimes, she wondered what it would have been like if some unlucky cop - maybe even Jane himself - had been forced to come and tell her that her husband and daughter had been brutally murdered by Red John. In the immediate aftermath, would she have coped better having not seen the bodies? Or did knowing first-hand what had happened to them make the burden easier to cope with? She didn't know. Sometimes, Lisbon believed that she would be able to move on, put Eva and Andrew in a small box in her memory palace and actually live again. Maybe she would have even been able to fall in love again. On other occasions, she wondered if she would only ever be capable of doing so when Red John was safely behind bars. There were also a few dark moments when she truly believed that the scars would be too much for her to bear. That, regardless of what happened to Red John she would still be buried in her grief for the rest of her life, even if she didn’t appear to be in such a state at face value. The worst thing about her current predicament was the fact that she was stuck, living in limbo. As well as she appeared on the inside, Lisbon knew that she wouldn't truly be able to move on until Red John was six feet under. And even then, it would still be tough.
That was half the reason she was so determined to try and make the grieving process as easy as possible for Jane. He was obviously stricken by the loss of his brother, despite the fact he'd been warned of it a couple of months ago. That didn't make it any easier. After what had happened to his parents, it was obvious that the Jane siblings had clung to one another and now, that balance had been destroyed. Jane was simply running on autopilot, because that was all he could do at this moment in time. Lisbon had seen the expression on his face when they had learned the forename of their current victim; a moment's hurt and pain brought to the forefront of his mind. Then, he had buried it back down because he had to remain professional and respectful. That was something else that Lisbon had a deep understanding of. All she could do was be there for him; if he needed to talk, he would. It was as simple as that. However, it didn't make it any easier on Lisbon.
When they pulled up in front of the McKinnon residence, Lisbon briefly opened her mouth to offer Jane a little comfort. Promptly, she clamped it shut again. Anything she could have said was trite and cliché, the kind of thing he would inevitably hear over and over. She didn't want to annoy him; in some ways acting like normal was more beneficial to him. So, she killed the engine and unbuckled her seatbelt. They had an interview to perform.
"Come on; let's get this over and done with. And maybe, I'll treat you to a late lunch after."
"There's no need for you to do that," Jane said quietly.
"I want to," she answered simply.
He didn't argue. Instead, Jane knocked abruptly on the front door of the house. In silence, they waited patiently for an answer. Eventually, a man with black and white peppered hair answered and eyed them dubiously. From their attire, Lisbon knew it wasn't entirely obvious that they were cops. Past occurrences not too dissimilar to this one had had them accused of being all sorts of random visitors, mostly of the unwelcome variety. That was because the only indication that they were was the badge and gun clipped to Jane's waist and even they were partially obscured by his pinstriped suit.
"I don't want to buy anything, we regularly donate to specific charities that our dear to our hearts," Mr. McKinnon said bluntly before they had the opportunity to introduce themselves. "And my wife and I are very happy members of the Presbyterian Church. We are not looking to convert to Mormonism or any other religion, for that matter."
"We're not salespeople or religious activists," Jane assured him as he unclipped the badge on his belt. "We're here about your son."
"Eddie hasn't done anything wrong. He's been on the straight and narrow since he went to rehab, quit his drugs problem. He's-"
"He's been killed," Jane interrupted.
"What?"
"Murdered, this morning. Can we-" Jane stopped speaking the moment that the man's knees crumpled, unable to hold his own body weight any longer. Lisbon stepped forward, supporting him underneath the armpit before he regained some composure. Slowly, steadily, she helped him through to the lounge, where his wife was sitting and sipping at a cup of tea.
"John? Why have you let these cold callers inside?" his wife questioned, glaring at them both. "Now look here, I want you to leave my property-"
"They're cops. It's Eddie," John coughed.
She collapsed back down on the leather couch and looked at them one by one. Then, she drained her cup as she came to terms with the revelation; cops appearing on her doorstep about her son didn't seem too unexpected for the woman, or so Lisbon believed. Jane took a seat too, but Lisbon remained standing and it was only then that she considered why they were actually there.
"I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true,” she hissed, clearly disappointed in her only son. “I knew he was lying about the girlfriend. What's he done now? Is it just using or has he started dealing again?"
"It's neither - as far as we know," Lisbon muttered.
"He's been found murdered at work, the bowling alley," Jane added.
"You're lying," she answered back.
"I wish I was," Jane replied grimly.
"You've both mentioned that he has a prior history of drug abuse. Could you expand on it for us?” Lisbon enquired as politely as possible. “It may be pertinent to the case.”
The husband nodded and he went into full detail about his son’s previous issues and the convictions he’d received. He went on to inform them just how proud he was of the way that Edward had been able to turn his life around, how pleased he’d been when he’d gotten himself both a job at the bowling alley and a new girlfriend. John McKinnon even said how much that both he and his wife had been looking forward to meeting the girlfriend next week. During the explanation, Lisbon kept more of an eye on his wife, however. Lucinda McKinnon clearly didn’t share her husband’s sentiments - either that, or she believed he was sugar-coating the truth in fear of speaking ill of the dead. Lisbon had a shrinking suspicion that it was more the former than the latter. John’s words felt like they had come from a good place.
After he had finished talking, Jane excused himself and offered everyone a cup of tea, much to the bemusement of the grieving couple in front of them. Only Lucinda accepted the offer, but Lisbon knew that, while Jane would turn up again eventually with the tea in hand, it was his excuse to go and snoop. On many occasions, she had found herself questioning him over these searches, arguing that they were illegal as he didn’t have a warrant. Jane just countered it, stating that they had been welcomed into the home or business willingly, ergo, it just saved time and stress for all concerned. Besides, if he did find something pertinent, he could get a warrant later in order to seize anything he did find. Or, he could just ask nicely as that did work on rare occasions too.
“Are you sure he’s a cop?” John asked dubiously. “He doesn’t behave like one.”
“Agent Jane isn’t one for procedure, but his methods do work,” Lisbon assured them both. “His unit has one of the highest closed case records in the state.”
“And where do you come into this?”
“I…”
“No, don’t tell me, I recognize you from somewhere,” Lucinda interrupted and she held up a hand. “You’re a psychic. I was going to try and hire you to sort out Edward’s troubles. I thought you’d be able to hypnotize him to stop him from taking drugs. But then, you disappeared and John insisted upon rehab instead.”
“I used to be a psychic,” Lisbon replied cagily.
“Used to be? Did your abilities just… turn off, or something?”
“No. I never had them in the first place.”
“Then how the hell did you do it?” Lucinda demanded.
“I just pay attention.”
“Just pay attention?” the woman echoed and crossed her arms. “A mad cop and a liar; are you sure you’re the best that California has to offer?”
“I agree with my wife. Will you really be able to get justice for our son?”
“We’ll try our best.”
Lisbon glanced nervously over her shoulder, desperately waiting for Jane to reappear. When he did so, the tea he offered Lucinda went stonily ignored. Jane shrugged his shoulders and set about drinking his. It was one of the few little luxuries in life that he indulged in, and one that Lisbon occasionally shared with him too. Generally, she preferred coffee but that didn’t mean she couldn’t see the charms in a nice cup of tea occasionally too. As Jane drank, she carefully steered the conversation back into safer grounds. They needed to get as much out of these people as possible before they could move on and investigate further. Asking questions was why they had made the most formidable team in California, in spite of the skepticism of people like these.
The rest of the interview was relatively mundane, covering all of the usual bases. Did they suspect anyone who could have murdered their son? The husband said no, of course not, aghast at the very idea. The wife, the skeptic, had immediately reeled off the names of people who had supplied him with drugs in the past, shady characters he had associated with who she had never liked and several more people besides. Lisbon got the impression she was a lonely woman; her paranoia drove away everyone apart from her patient and loving husband. They asked if there was anything he could have been hiding from them, any money troubles or the like. But, Jane was growing bored and she could sense that he believed they had gotten everything they could from Edward McKinnon’s parents. As a consequence, they bid them farewell and made their escape. Lisbon was glad for it; ever since the woman had found out that she had only ever masqueraded as a psychic, she could feel her sending daggers in her direction as time marched onwards.
Once back in the car, they discussed what Jane had found in the home during his prowl. Nothing, he’d said and he sounded a little disappointed by it. Lisbon believed it was a good thing; if this murder was drugs related then it probably meant he wasn’t dealing and they were just trying to lure him back into their fold. It closed down a couple of avenues, even if it didn’t stop his mother from being paranoid. The autopsy would ultimately confirm it either way anyway, but Steiner’s report wasn’t due for another couple of hours at the very least. Then, there was Rigsby’s hunch. Lisbon genuinely hoped that something would come of it. After his earlier embarrassment, he certainly deserved a lucky break.
As promised, she pulled off for something to eat. The diner was quaint, but clearly not particularly popular. However, she was hungry and felt like she couldn’t be picky. Besides, this was another one of her distractions for Jane. Not that it would distract him for long; the death of his brother would continually linger in his mind for a long while. Like his parents, he had to come to terms with it before he could truly box it away. And anyway, she couldn’t judge. She was hardly the poster girl for good mental health after bereavement. They took their seats quickly and made their order soon after. Her cellphone started ringing before lunch arrived, and Lisbon rolled her eyes. When she saw who was ringing her this time around, her spirits lightened. At least it wasn’t her father, yet again.
“Hey Rigsby,” she said the moment she answered the call.
“Lisbon, I-“
Jane was motioning with his hands for something, and briefly, Lisbon furrowed her brow. It didn’t take long for her to figure out what he meant and as a consequence, she found herself cutting off Rigsby before he even had a chance to finish off his sentence.
“Hang on a sec, Rigs. Jane wants to hear this too.”
Lisbon put it on speakerphone and then placed the device on the table between them. She was glad that the place was practically deserted, even if it wasn’t good advertisement for the quality of the food. It gave them a little privacy for this conversation. A few seconds later, she encouraged him to go on and it was only then that Rigsby started talking about.
“Hey you guys. I think I’ve got something,” he said, to very little surprise from either of them. “The bartender who was there today? He was actually fired for gross misconduct last week. Nobody knows why the hell he was there at all.”
To Chapter Eighteen
Three hours ago, Teresa Lisbon had agreed to accompany Patrick Jane to the funeral of his younger brother, Edward. She had known that he had cancer without him telling her and she had known that he was losing the fight to it as well. It was also clear as day just how much of a burden it was on Jane himself. He wouldn’t talk about it - talking made situations like this painfully real - but he hadn’t needed to. She had simply been able to tell. Despite the problems she was having with her father, Lisbon had attempted to support him as best she could. She hoped it was beneficial; she couldn’t tell from face value. Although she could read people, Jane was a layer of masks and mysteries. What she sometimes thought could be the truth was only revealed to be another mask at a later date.
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she was beginning to regret her decision to accompany him. Lisbon understood his plea for tea and sympathy, she understood his need for support, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was the right person to offer it. Already, she was worried that she was going to be stepping on the toes of the mourning friends and family of Edward Jane. She hadn’t even met the man once, even briefly, and Jane hadn’t even told her much about him. All she knew about him was what she had figured out from light research and through reading Jane. Once she had become an established member of his team, she had immediately stopped actively seeking out information on her coworkers and their families. It felt wrong, like a betrayal of trust. She hoped that, by now, they knew that if they wanted to tell her something they could trust her to respect it too. Even so, maintaining that balance was tough and she found it a daily battle to fight against the natural instincts that had been nurtured inside of her by her father. Instinctively, she already knew just how out of place she was going to be at that funeral, but she was determined to remain true to her word. It was what he wanted; he wouldn’t have asked her otherwise. Jane hated to admit to weakness, so it was a Big Deal, with capital letters and everything.
They were sitting in the bar with the two women that they had spotted earlier. Lisbon immediately noted that more shots had been consumed by both women. Despite it barely being the afternoon both women were very tipsy, verging on being outright drunk. She hoped that whatever they had to say would prove to be useful even though they were intoxicated. Then again, alcohol loosened the tongue; there was always the chance that they would be more inclined to tell the truth because they had been drinking rather than in spite of it. However, despite her logical thinking, she couldn't help but judge them for their decision. She herself didn't have an especially healthy relationship with alcohol. On too many occasions, her father had drunk too much and it had always triggered his darker sides. Lisbon knew that Jane's dad had been the same; the difference between their respective fathers was that Alex Jane's alcoholism had destroyed him. Jason Hamilton's had not.
Her cellphone had rung almost persistently since they had been on the road to the crime scene. Even now they were here, it was still yet to stay silent for longer than five minutes. Lisbon knew exactly who was calling her so frequently and she wasn't going to give into him any time soon. He knew she was at work, knew that she could arrive home at any time. Lisbon had also promised him that she would come home at some point; she wouldn't abandon him indefinitely and especially without informing him. To add insult to injury, her father was capable of looking after himself. All he needed was for someone to check on him a few times a day. But, he wanted her world to revolve around him once again, just like it had in the old days. That was something that Lisbon just wasn't willing to give him, not anymore. She was a grown woman, of almost forty and if he didn't realize she deserved her own life now, then would he ever?
Lisbon tried to clear her mind of all thoughts of Jason Hamilton; a difficult task when he was so desperate for her attention, like an overgrown school child. But she needed to; theoretically, these two women could know something useful about the murder and it was her job to try and extract it out of them.
"Whose bowling ball is that?" Lisbon asked after Jane had finished with the boring - but necessary questions and the two women had introduced themselves. "It doesn't look like one that belongs to the alley."
The redheaded woman, the one who had been doing the comforting up until now snorted derisively at the very thought. From what she could see while on the lane, Lisbon had already known that it was a privately owned piece of kit. However, her insinuation had been enough for the woman to look at her like she was a dumb kid who had just recited her times tables wrong.
"Oh please, what bowling alley in their right mind would stock reactive bowling balls with fingertip drilling for the idiots of the general public to use? Of course it's not a house brick."
"Renee, please," the brunette murmured quietly, speaking for the first time since identifying herself. "They're cops. They wouldn't know the difference."
"He's the cop, I'm just a consultant," Lisbon said, unable to resist the urge to correct her. “Sorry.”
"It was your bowling ball, wasn't it?" Jane spoke, looking directly at the more desolate of the two women. Lisbon was relieved that Jane had taken the initiative to cover up the awkward silence that had followed her statement. The two women still looked lost and the sooner this was over and done with, the better.
"Yes," the brunette managed to sniff before dissolving into a flurry of tears. "It's my fault; I killed him!"
"Hush, Bex," Renee murmured, stroking a hand up and down her spine. "You didn't kill him; it's not your fault."
"Can you tell us exactly what happened, please?" Lisbon asked.
At this moment, Lisbon spotted that the barkeep - one of the few members of staff present at the bowling alley - had disappeared without saying a word to anybody. She didn't comment on it; they needed to get Bex and Renee's story straight first. Then, they would hear about Rigsby and Cho's progress with the manager. However, the man’s disappearance was mildly interesting to say the least. Though she had attempted eye contact, he had somehow managed to avoid it at all costs and that was always something that made her feel a little suspicious. He definitely had a story to tell, but the question was what.
"We come here every Wednesday morning; it's always quiet then so we're usually the only bowlers here. We come for practice for the Thursday doubles league," Renee explained and briefly she glanced over at lane five. "It's when Eddie does all the maintenance work, because there's no one around to bother him."
"Go on," Jane said encouragingly.
"We always use lanes five and six. They’re Bex's lucky lanes. If she gets a PB it's on those lanes."
"Two lanes?" Jane asked, somewhat surprised. Lisbon smirked slightly; though the technicalities of league bowling weren’t something she knew much about either, it was always fun to see Jane out of his league too.
"Yeah. League bowlers alternate lanes,” Renee answered dryly; her tone insinuated that she believed all this to be common knowledge. “It makes it fairer on both teams."
"And what happened this morning?"
"Nothing seemed wrong when we got here. We didn’t see Eddie, but that’s not strange. We just assumed he was working behind the scenes, on pin spotters or something. Besides, he’s been having problems with lane eleven for weeks now. So Karl - the manager - put us on our regular lanes and we got ready, like usual. We both have our own gear, of course. Bex was excited because she'd just bought a new ball; Eddie recommended it..."
"I am never using that ball again," Bex suddenly wailed and Renee placed a comforting hand back on her shoulder.
"Our lanes were on practice mode so we could warm up and adjust to the oil pattern. Bex went first, picked up her new strike ball, bowled it, and..."
Her voice cracked as she finished her monologue. Considering she wasn't entirely sober, she had done an excellent job at recounting the tale. But then, Bex had had far more to drink than Renee. The vacant look in her eyes said a lot; she was using alcohol to cover up the pain. Besides, she was the one feeling guilty for something that she wasn't responsible for and she was the one struggling to hold it all together. Lisbon understood what it felt like to be in such a situation and she wasn't going to judge. It would take time, but Bex would have to learn how to move on with this. Finding the person who was actually responsible would be a start of course.
"The pin spotter came down, with Edward instead of the pins?" Lisbon suggested and Renee nodded, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear as she did so.
"There was so much blood. Everyone screamed and then that was it. I called 911 and Bex fainted."
"I'm sorry, but I have to ask..." Lisbon looked pointedly at Bex who had managed to pull her head up off of the table for approximately half a minute. "Were you and Eddie lovers?"
That was enough to tip the woman back over the edge. She burst into tears again, spilt the bottle of water that Renee had supplied her with in lieu of alcohol during her last crying fit and collapsed back in a heap on the table. Renee nodded, confirming Lisbon's question although the brunette's non-answer was enough of a response anyway. That was something else that explained why she was quite as desolate as she was as opposed to the pale shock written across her friend and bowling partner's face. If they had just been acquaintances, exchanging pleasantries once a week at the bowling alley, then she simply wouldn't have acted as if her heart had been torn in two.
"They hadn't been dating long, just six months, but things were already getting pretty serious between them."
"One last thing and then we will leave you in peace," Jane said clearly and the attention of everybody involved was drawn directly to him. "Where were you between the hours of six am and nine am?"
"At Bex's. I stayed overnight to get away from my good-for-nothing husband, if only for a little bit. We arrived here dead on ten am, like usual," Renee answered, her tone clipped. "But Agent Jane, you seriously can't be insinuating that we were responsible for Eddie's murder?"
"It's just procedure," Lisbon assured them, though that wasn't of much use in Bex's case. "Thank you for your time."
They walked out together, close enough for some level of intimacy but far enough apart to not be touching. Lisbon shoved her hands in her pockets, deep in thought about the case. They had finally managed to corner and speak to the barkeep just after they had finished dealing with the two women who had discovered the body. However, he had only confirmed his name and stated that he hadn't seen anything. All he’d apparently done was come running when he heard screaming, and helped to revive Bex after she had fainted at the shock. Then, he had continued with his work and given them each a couple of stiff drinks on the house to soothe their nerves while they waited for the police to arrive. Still, Lisbon was certain that he wasn't telling the entire truth. There was something about his demeanor which hadn't settled right; something about him suggested that he was involved somehow, not necessarily with the murder but with Bex and Renee at least. She shook her head slightly as she climbed into the driver’s seat of the SUV. That was something she would have to figure out later. It was still early days in the case.
Rigsby had stayed behind to check on the security tapes with the manager of the bowling alley. He was convinced that the cameras must have picked up something, based on where the body had been hidden. It didn’t necessarily mean they had seen the murder itself, but it could have picked up the placement of the body by the killer. Both Lisbon and Jane wholeheartedly agreed with his sentiment. It definitely wasn't a coincidence; somebody wanted Edward McKinnon's body to be discovered by these two women. They wanted to send a message to these women by virtue of murder. Lisbon wanted to investigate Bex and her love life a little more, but the combination of shock and alcohol meant that it was barely possible for them to get a coherent sentence out of her at this moment in time. It was a wonder that she had been able to say as much as she had done. At least her significantly calmer - and more sober - friend had been able to give them something to work with.
But for now, they had to go and inform the family of the deceased. At the moment, they were oblivious to Edward's fate and believed he had just headed to work, as usual. Like Jane, Lisbon hated this part of the job. Sometimes, she wondered what it would have been like if some unlucky cop - maybe even Jane himself - had been forced to come and tell her that her husband and daughter had been brutally murdered by Red John. In the immediate aftermath, would she have coped better having not seen the bodies? Or did knowing first-hand what had happened to them make the burden easier to cope with? She didn't know. Sometimes, Lisbon believed that she would be able to move on, put Eva and Andrew in a small box in her memory palace and actually live again. Maybe she would have even been able to fall in love again. On other occasions, she wondered if she would only ever be capable of doing so when Red John was safely behind bars. There were also a few dark moments when she truly believed that the scars would be too much for her to bear. That, regardless of what happened to Red John she would still be buried in her grief for the rest of her life, even if she didn’t appear to be in such a state at face value. The worst thing about her current predicament was the fact that she was stuck, living in limbo. As well as she appeared on the inside, Lisbon knew that she wouldn't truly be able to move on until Red John was six feet under. And even then, it would still be tough.
That was half the reason she was so determined to try and make the grieving process as easy as possible for Jane. He was obviously stricken by the loss of his brother, despite the fact he'd been warned of it a couple of months ago. That didn't make it any easier. After what had happened to his parents, it was obvious that the Jane siblings had clung to one another and now, that balance had been destroyed. Jane was simply running on autopilot, because that was all he could do at this moment in time. Lisbon had seen the expression on his face when they had learned the forename of their current victim; a moment's hurt and pain brought to the forefront of his mind. Then, he had buried it back down because he had to remain professional and respectful. That was something else that Lisbon had a deep understanding of. All she could do was be there for him; if he needed to talk, he would. It was as simple as that. However, it didn't make it any easier on Lisbon.
When they pulled up in front of the McKinnon residence, Lisbon briefly opened her mouth to offer Jane a little comfort. Promptly, she clamped it shut again. Anything she could have said was trite and cliché, the kind of thing he would inevitably hear over and over. She didn't want to annoy him; in some ways acting like normal was more beneficial to him. So, she killed the engine and unbuckled her seatbelt. They had an interview to perform.
"Come on; let's get this over and done with. And maybe, I'll treat you to a late lunch after."
"There's no need for you to do that," Jane said quietly.
"I want to," she answered simply.
He didn't argue. Instead, Jane knocked abruptly on the front door of the house. In silence, they waited patiently for an answer. Eventually, a man with black and white peppered hair answered and eyed them dubiously. From their attire, Lisbon knew it wasn't entirely obvious that they were cops. Past occurrences not too dissimilar to this one had had them accused of being all sorts of random visitors, mostly of the unwelcome variety. That was because the only indication that they were was the badge and gun clipped to Jane's waist and even they were partially obscured by his pinstriped suit.
"I don't want to buy anything, we regularly donate to specific charities that our dear to our hearts," Mr. McKinnon said bluntly before they had the opportunity to introduce themselves. "And my wife and I are very happy members of the Presbyterian Church. We are not looking to convert to Mormonism or any other religion, for that matter."
"We're not salespeople or religious activists," Jane assured him as he unclipped the badge on his belt. "We're here about your son."
"Eddie hasn't done anything wrong. He's been on the straight and narrow since he went to rehab, quit his drugs problem. He's-"
"He's been killed," Jane interrupted.
"What?"
"Murdered, this morning. Can we-" Jane stopped speaking the moment that the man's knees crumpled, unable to hold his own body weight any longer. Lisbon stepped forward, supporting him underneath the armpit before he regained some composure. Slowly, steadily, she helped him through to the lounge, where his wife was sitting and sipping at a cup of tea.
"John? Why have you let these cold callers inside?" his wife questioned, glaring at them both. "Now look here, I want you to leave my property-"
"They're cops. It's Eddie," John coughed.
She collapsed back down on the leather couch and looked at them one by one. Then, she drained her cup as she came to terms with the revelation; cops appearing on her doorstep about her son didn't seem too unexpected for the woman, or so Lisbon believed. Jane took a seat too, but Lisbon remained standing and it was only then that she considered why they were actually there.
"I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true,” she hissed, clearly disappointed in her only son. “I knew he was lying about the girlfriend. What's he done now? Is it just using or has he started dealing again?"
"It's neither - as far as we know," Lisbon muttered.
"He's been found murdered at work, the bowling alley," Jane added.
"You're lying," she answered back.
"I wish I was," Jane replied grimly.
"You've both mentioned that he has a prior history of drug abuse. Could you expand on it for us?” Lisbon enquired as politely as possible. “It may be pertinent to the case.”
The husband nodded and he went into full detail about his son’s previous issues and the convictions he’d received. He went on to inform them just how proud he was of the way that Edward had been able to turn his life around, how pleased he’d been when he’d gotten himself both a job at the bowling alley and a new girlfriend. John McKinnon even said how much that both he and his wife had been looking forward to meeting the girlfriend next week. During the explanation, Lisbon kept more of an eye on his wife, however. Lucinda McKinnon clearly didn’t share her husband’s sentiments - either that, or she believed he was sugar-coating the truth in fear of speaking ill of the dead. Lisbon had a shrinking suspicion that it was more the former than the latter. John’s words felt like they had come from a good place.
After he had finished talking, Jane excused himself and offered everyone a cup of tea, much to the bemusement of the grieving couple in front of them. Only Lucinda accepted the offer, but Lisbon knew that, while Jane would turn up again eventually with the tea in hand, it was his excuse to go and snoop. On many occasions, she had found herself questioning him over these searches, arguing that they were illegal as he didn’t have a warrant. Jane just countered it, stating that they had been welcomed into the home or business willingly, ergo, it just saved time and stress for all concerned. Besides, if he did find something pertinent, he could get a warrant later in order to seize anything he did find. Or, he could just ask nicely as that did work on rare occasions too.
“Are you sure he’s a cop?” John asked dubiously. “He doesn’t behave like one.”
“Agent Jane isn’t one for procedure, but his methods do work,” Lisbon assured them both. “His unit has one of the highest closed case records in the state.”
“And where do you come into this?”
“I…”
“No, don’t tell me, I recognize you from somewhere,” Lucinda interrupted and she held up a hand. “You’re a psychic. I was going to try and hire you to sort out Edward’s troubles. I thought you’d be able to hypnotize him to stop him from taking drugs. But then, you disappeared and John insisted upon rehab instead.”
“I used to be a psychic,” Lisbon replied cagily.
“Used to be? Did your abilities just… turn off, or something?”
“No. I never had them in the first place.”
“Then how the hell did you do it?” Lucinda demanded.
“I just pay attention.”
“Just pay attention?” the woman echoed and crossed her arms. “A mad cop and a liar; are you sure you’re the best that California has to offer?”
“I agree with my wife. Will you really be able to get justice for our son?”
“We’ll try our best.”
Lisbon glanced nervously over her shoulder, desperately waiting for Jane to reappear. When he did so, the tea he offered Lucinda went stonily ignored. Jane shrugged his shoulders and set about drinking his. It was one of the few little luxuries in life that he indulged in, and one that Lisbon occasionally shared with him too. Generally, she preferred coffee but that didn’t mean she couldn’t see the charms in a nice cup of tea occasionally too. As Jane drank, she carefully steered the conversation back into safer grounds. They needed to get as much out of these people as possible before they could move on and investigate further. Asking questions was why they had made the most formidable team in California, in spite of the skepticism of people like these.
The rest of the interview was relatively mundane, covering all of the usual bases. Did they suspect anyone who could have murdered their son? The husband said no, of course not, aghast at the very idea. The wife, the skeptic, had immediately reeled off the names of people who had supplied him with drugs in the past, shady characters he had associated with who she had never liked and several more people besides. Lisbon got the impression she was a lonely woman; her paranoia drove away everyone apart from her patient and loving husband. They asked if there was anything he could have been hiding from them, any money troubles or the like. But, Jane was growing bored and she could sense that he believed they had gotten everything they could from Edward McKinnon’s parents. As a consequence, they bid them farewell and made their escape. Lisbon was glad for it; ever since the woman had found out that she had only ever masqueraded as a psychic, she could feel her sending daggers in her direction as time marched onwards.
Once back in the car, they discussed what Jane had found in the home during his prowl. Nothing, he’d said and he sounded a little disappointed by it. Lisbon believed it was a good thing; if this murder was drugs related then it probably meant he wasn’t dealing and they were just trying to lure him back into their fold. It closed down a couple of avenues, even if it didn’t stop his mother from being paranoid. The autopsy would ultimately confirm it either way anyway, but Steiner’s report wasn’t due for another couple of hours at the very least. Then, there was Rigsby’s hunch. Lisbon genuinely hoped that something would come of it. After his earlier embarrassment, he certainly deserved a lucky break.
As promised, she pulled off for something to eat. The diner was quaint, but clearly not particularly popular. However, she was hungry and felt like she couldn’t be picky. Besides, this was another one of her distractions for Jane. Not that it would distract him for long; the death of his brother would continually linger in his mind for a long while. Like his parents, he had to come to terms with it before he could truly box it away. And anyway, she couldn’t judge. She was hardly the poster girl for good mental health after bereavement. They took their seats quickly and made their order soon after. Her cellphone started ringing before lunch arrived, and Lisbon rolled her eyes. When she saw who was ringing her this time around, her spirits lightened. At least it wasn’t her father, yet again.
“Hey Rigsby,” she said the moment she answered the call.
“Lisbon, I-“
Jane was motioning with his hands for something, and briefly, Lisbon furrowed her brow. It didn’t take long for her to figure out what he meant and as a consequence, she found herself cutting off Rigsby before he even had a chance to finish off his sentence.
“Hang on a sec, Rigs. Jane wants to hear this too.”
Lisbon put it on speakerphone and then placed the device on the table between them. She was glad that the place was practically deserted, even if it wasn’t good advertisement for the quality of the food. It gave them a little privacy for this conversation. A few seconds later, she encouraged him to go on and it was only then that Rigsby started talking about.
“Hey you guys. I think I’ve got something,” he said, to very little surprise from either of them. “The bartender who was there today? He was actually fired for gross misconduct last week. Nobody knows why the hell he was there at all.”
To Chapter Eighteen