Ricochet (21/25)
Chapter Twenty One
“Hey, Rigs.”
Lisbon flinched a little when she saw Wayne Rigsby’s bruised and battered face when she entered the bullpen first thing in the morning. She remembered the incidents of forty-eight hours previously, clear as day. This was her fault, she thought. If she hadn’t led him into that trap, then he wouldn’t have been beaten black and blue. She was the one with the skills to read into situations like this; she should have known that something was wrong with the lead. The only small mercy that she could content herself with was the fact that the case had been closed as a consequence. That meant that Rigsby’s physical pains weren’t endured all in vain.
“Hey, Lisbon,” he replied with a warm smile.
“You okay? Can I get you a coffee or anything?”
“I’m good thanks. Just working on some stuff I was doing last night.”
The conversation was awkward, stilted, but this was something that Lisbon had already expected. The last time they had shared a proper conversation had been as they chased up the lead in the McKinnon case. Since then, they had consistently found reasons to avoid crossing paths, until now, that was. They were the only two currently present in the bullpen and Lisbon was determined to make amends for what had been a fatal error of judgment on her part. If she didn’t deal with it, then she knew it would continue festering away in her mind long after Rigsby believed it had disappeared into irrelevancy, along with his obvious bruising.
“About the McKinnon case, when we were chasing up Lyons,” she started, speaking haltingly.
Rigsby stopped typing at that moment and turned to face her. She could feel him scrutinizing her, and she knew it wouldn’t be too long until he worked out what she was insinuating. Teresa Lisbon had never been one to mask her tells. As far as she was concerned, it meant people trusted her more. Ergo, they were more likely to open up to her when she needed them to do so.
“You feel guilty,” he stated plainly.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“Don’t be. It’s a hazard of the job.”
“But I was the one who led you-“
“It was my lead,” Rigsby interrupted, obviously keen to put his side of the story across. “You only helped confirm what I already believed.”
“I should have seen that it was a trap.”
“Then I should have as well. Please, Lisbon, stop blaming yourself. You already have more than enough burdens on your shoulders.”
She nodded; he was right. Not a day went by when she wasn’t rattled with guilt over her family’s death. And then, she blamed herself for every subsequent victim of Red John’s too, up to and including Sophie Miller. Lisbon truly believed that she should have gotten closer to the serial killer by now, and that this was getting ridiculous. More than anything, she dreaded seeing a dripping red smiley face above the body of somebody else she cared about. That nightmare still haunted her on a very regular basis.
“You’re back to work far quicker than I expected,” Lisbon remarked lightly as the tension between them dissipated considerably. “You were hospitalized.”
“That was nothing. They just wanted to give me a checkup, make sure nothing was really hurt,” he answered, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m surprised they didn’t do the same to you.”
“I’m not a good patient.”
“I can believe that, but still…”
“I’m fine, Rigsby. You were the one who…”
“It’s just cuts and bruises and I’ve already said you need to stop blaming yourself. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t feel well enough to work, even though…” he paused, considering what to say next, but Lisbon already knew what he was thinking. “We’ve got more important things to be worrying about.”
He waved a hand in the direction of his computer screen. On it were photographs from the latest Red John crime scene and an older one too, potentially the Carter and Janet Peakes double murder. Rigsby had spent the silence of the early morning cross-referencing the newest crime scene with the older ones, just to make absolutely sure that it was Red John they were dealing with again. Lisbon didn’t need assurance from technology or photographic evidence for such a thing. She just knew.
“Red John,” she breathed.
“Red John,” Rigsby echoed with a firm nod.
It wasn't long until the others arrived and soon, they were gathered around the metallic table at the end of the bullpen. If they were going to have half a chance to get any closer to Red John then they had to be prepared. Lisbon had spent half the night wide awake, thinking about the case. She wouldn't have been surprised if the same applied to every single person congregated around this table. Out of principle, she avoided sitting next to Jane. One thing she knew for certain was just how dangerous her presence in this unit was. As far as she was concerned, she had painted targets on each and every one of their backs and especially Jane's. Their comparative intimacy would undoubtedly be something that Red John would loathe. After all, he was determined to make her life a misery ever since that fateful interview she had given, courtesy of her father. Sophie Miller's murder was confirmation of that, if nothing else. All of his more recent murders were slowly but surely holding a more important relevance for the team. No longer were they disparate murders, but people they knew. The more important question was who was going to be next? And when would he grow bored of toying with them and strike at the very heart of the team?
"So, where have we got to?" Jane eventually asked after a moment's silence that lasted altogether far too long.
"Nothing from the family," Cho confirmed, as straight to the point as ever.
"I've compared the crime scene to all the other Red John murders," Rigsby added soon after. "It’s definitely not a copycat; it fits his M.O."
Although it appeared a waste of time at face value, it was still a necessary job for Rigsby to do. Evidence was crucial in any crime investigation, Lisbon knew that. In a way, she was glad he had decided to do it in his own time rather than wasting his energies when everyone was focusing on the case. Even so, it still appeared slightly like a waste of time. It was Red John; they didn’t need confirmation.
"I've organized an interview with the manager of the hospital Sophie Miller worked at until two months ago. They are very keen to assist in any way that they can."
Lisbon stiffened at Van Pelt’s mention of the hospital that Sophie used to work at. She remembered her stint in the mental institution far too vividly. The days blurred into one, the pills dulled her mind and on too many occasions, she had tried to kill herself, to join her precious family in heaven. She still bore the scars from the countless times she had slashed her wrists open with any means possible. Sometimes, she even found herself believing that the treatment she received was only serving to drive her more insane than she had already been diagnosed as being. Eventually, when she was beginning to come back to her senses, Lisbon had found that only Sophie had been a shining light whenever she visited. She owed her relative sanity to Dr. Miller, that much was obvious. Even so, she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable about the direction the conversation was headed.
"I don't think that'll be necessary, sorry Van Pelt," Lisbon said softly. "She worked there for years; Red John didn't know. It’s unlikely he ever managed to get somebody working on the inside."
The redhead looked forlorn; she had spent hours on the phone, trying desperately to find the right person to speak to. In spite of being the newest person on the team, she already understood the urgency when it came to Red John. She had used her initiative when pulling strings at the institution, but it had all been in vain. It was clear that she felt like her hours had been wasted even more so than Rigsby’s had.
"Lisbon's right," Jane added, rubbing salt into the wound. "We probably won't find anything there."
"How can you be so sure?" Cho was the one to ask. It wasn't a threat to Jane's authority, but as second in command, he clearly believed they all had a right to know.
"Dr. Miller was an... acquaintance of Teresa's," Jane said obliquely.
For a moment, she caught his eye. That was when he took particular care over explaining the relationship she had shared with Sophie. If he had left it to her, she didn't even know what she would have said. Lisbon took the opportunity to read her coworkers one by one. Rigsby and Van Pelt took the explanation at face value. Cho, meanwhile, seemed like he had been reading the deeper meaning into Jane's phraseology. He knew what their boss had really meant. He understood that she had once been a patient of the deceased doctor's but wanted it to remain fiercely private. Mental health, after all, was still most definitely a taboo subject.
"Sophie might have been headhunted while at the hospital," Lisbon said, partially to offer an olive branch to Van Pelt but mostly to keep the conversation moving. "It's probably worth sending somebody to make sure either way."
"I agree," Jane answered with a decisive nod. "Van Pelt, it's your lead, I want you to go and chase it up with Rigsby."
The rookie's face brightened instantly. After all the disappointment she had faced at her lead being crushed, she now had something to lift her spirits once again. Lisbon knew that it was the first time she had been given the opportunity to take the lead in the field. Usually, she remained stuck in the office manning the phones or chasing up paper trails. While it was important work, it was also dull and arduous. It wasn't the kind of thing that any of them signed up for when they joined the academy and trained to become cops. For the most part they were all after justice and although they wouldn't admit it, excitement too. The thrill of the chase got the blood pumping and heart pounding. It gave them an adrenalin rush. That was a shared passion, a shared need. These were well educated and highly strung people. Boredom quickly set in, especially when it came to Senior Agent Patrick Jane.
"Lisbon, you and I will go investigate the new place, the Stutzer Institute at Leyland State University, “Jane continued as Rigsby and Van Pelt promptly prepared themselves to leave. "If you're right, then Red John might have an associate working there."
Her heart sank a little. Immediately, avoiding contact with Jane for the greater good had become a failed plan. She should have known that he would have immediately assumed that everything was perfectly normal between them. After all, he hadn't been the one who had been suddenly spooked by the offer of dinner. Then, there had been that argument with her father. Jason Hamilton's callous words had settled uncomfortably in her mind and sent her overactive imagination into overdrive as a consequence. She had never liked her father, even when she had been small. Lisbon had always tried to fight against him but ultimately, she had lost out each and every time. Even on this occasion, with him bursting back on the scene after a two year absence, she could feel the power struggle between them. But she couldn't help but wonder what if he was right? What if she really was her father's daughter? What if she was always doomed to let down the people she loved spectacularly? That was why she couldn't let Jane get close to her. She had already lost one husband due to her sheer folly. Lisbon couldn't risk losing another man she loved to a similar fate.
And she knew that Jane had fallen for her too; it was something she had known that for a while. He was aware of his feelings but he was trying to act on them and keep a respectful distance at the same time. The man had always been a delightful bag of contradictions; that was something she had always liked about him. He loved action in the job but was fearful of his gun. He exuded authority and yet, somehow managed to act as anything but a boss. And he fell deeply in love but couldn't properly acknowledge it. She couldn’t really understand why he felt so much love and respect for her; she wasn’t anything particularly special. And worse, she was still caught up with her deceased husband. Although, she grudgingly admitted, that was probably not as much the case as she liked to think it was.
As much as she knew they were slowly beginning to enter a dangerous territory, she didn't argue with his instruction. He wanted her to come for a reason. That was because she was the one who would be most likely to be able to tell who was associated with Red John based on her natural instincts. Then there was the simple fact he wanted to talk. She had been acting standoffish and he would want to get to the bottom of it. He was never one to leave a mystery unsolved; whenever she displayed a new trick or mind game, he always insisted that she explained it step by step. He was quick to learn and now was beginning to use many similar techniques to what she did. The only difference was that it was clear that he remained inexperienced whereas she had grown up surrounded by this kind of thing.
Leaving Cho in the office, doing the jobs that Van Pelt would ordinarily be tasked with, they headed towards his little Citroen. She hated the thing, believed it was completely un-roadworthy but he still maintained that it was perfectly safe and a design classic. That may have been the case, but her opinion was always exacerbated by the fact that Jane was a bit of a speed demon the vast majority of the time. It seemed that she wasn’t the only one who had taken after a parent more than they would have liked to do so. Taking her by surprise, he drove slowly and steadily, but that only served to annoy her further. It was like he was deliberately delaying their arrival at the Stutzer Institute in favor of exacerbating this painful silence that had sprouted up between them. In the end, Lisbon simply gave up and was the one to break the silence.
“Are you sure it was wise allowing Rigsby and Van Pelt to work together today?” she asked quietly.
Jane glanced at her briefly and raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was only on very rare occasions that she bothered to judge his managerial decisions. That was mostly because they both knew it wasn’t her place to. If she were the one in charge, then she would have been free to make the right - or wrong - decisions as she saw fit.
“What do you mean?”
“Something happened between them two days ago, after Rigsby was hurt.”
“You thought so too?”
Lisbon nodded and Jane waved a dismissive hand from the steering wheel. “It’s against CBI policy,” she eventually said.
“I know, but they are both grown adults. It’s not my place to judge. Besides, who am I to stand in the way of their love and happiness?”
“You really believe that?”
“Yes I do. If Minelli wants to put my head on the chopping block, then so be it. It’s a stupid rule anyway. I’ve always thought so.”
“Oh.”
“And did you know, the rule does not apply to consultants?” he extrapolated and turned to face her. “You’re still a civilian, so if you wanted to date anyone on the unit…”
She cringed, but quickly noticed a viable excuse to change the subject. “The turning’s coming up. We’re nearly there.”
It was a relief to get out of closed confines with Jane. In little over an hour and a half, they had only shared one stilted conversation towards the latter end of the journey. The rest of the time, she had spent it alternating between watching Jane and staring aimlessly out of the window. There wasn’t anything else that she could have done at that moment in time. At least now they had the case to focus on; that would provide suitable distraction. Besides, she desperately wanted something to come out of this trip - and this case - for justice for Sophie. For justice for Andrew and Eva. For justice for everyone else who had lost their lives to Red John. And for justice for everyone who had been touched by the serial killer in one way or another. As difficult as the journey had been, that was far more important than any discomfort she may have felt, one way or another.
Professor Stutzer was busy when they arrived on campus, but they were promptly invited to listen in on the annual neurological symposium while they waited. Lisbon immediately accepted; a call from Van Pelt had discovered that the main guest speaker - Alex Nelson - was the ex-fiancé of Sophie Miller. Intrigued, she wanted to see this man in the flesh and maybe try and corner him before he had the chance to leave. She wanted to see how and why their relationship had broken down, and how they had come to work at the same campus. A part of her also begged the question of if the man had been related to Red John somehow, and had taken delight in leading her to the serial killer’s domain. But those were questions that would have to wait until later.
In the end, she didn’t even get to ask them at all. After sipping at a bottle of water, Nelson attempted to give his speech. He grew increasingly incoherent and dizzy. Even from the spot at the back of the auditorium, Lisbon could see the spots of sweat flecking at his forehead. Thankfully, Jane had already had the initiative to call for paramedics, but it was too late. The scientist had collapsed and promptly died before her superior had even had a chance to finish the call. Then, she moved into action and Jane called for backup. University security cleared the place on their behalf and soon, the bustling auditorium had become deathly silent.
“Don’t touch the bottle,” Lisbon snapped when one of the security staff went to pick it up. “It’s evidence.”
“It probably won’t have any prints on it,” Jane said as he appeared by her side.
“What makes you so sure?”
“According to Rigsby and Van Pelt, Nelson was the one to headhunt Sophie. He wanted her here despite their acrimonious personal relationship.”
“To kill?” Lisbon asked. “I guess it makes sense.”
“You done here?”
“Nearly.”
There wasn’t really much more she needed to do, but she felt the need to stare at the body one last time. Just a couple of hours ago, this man had been absolutely fine. Now he was poisoned and dead, just like the ex-security guard at the CBI headquarters. She could feel that this was Red John’s way of tying up loose ends and that only served to make him feel all the more dangerous in her eyes. Just how widespread was this man? Just how many people did he have under his spell and how did he convince the likes of Nelson to lure innocent people to their deaths? But then, she should have known that - somehow - the relationship she had shared with Sophie had made it to Red John. Obviously, Dr. Miller had let confidentiality slip to Nelson, and Nelson had eventually sold her out to the serial killer. Then, he had proved to be no longer useful and as a consequence had died in quite a spectacular manner. They knew that Nelson and Sophie Miller had had serious issues; Cho had quickly uncovered evidence of a restraining order and promptly told them via text. But that didn’t explain how they got from there to Sophie’s death.
By the time they finally had access to Dr. Stutzer, the man was reeling with shock at the fact he had lost not one but two of his subordinates in the space of thirty-six hours. The old man seemed to be visibly shaking, but he insisted that their work must go on and that the ‘morality engine’ they were working on in the brain was at the forefront of cutting-edge technology. They were nearing breakthrough and it would dishonor the memories of Drs. Miller and Nelson to delay the project they had both been working so tirelessly on right now. Of course, a memorial for them both would be going ahead as soon as possible, but for now, it wasn’t necessarily the priority. At face value, Lisbon could see that the decision could be perceived as being cold and callous; however, she also understood his sentiment. Besides, he was old and stuck in his ways. All he wanted to do was keep calm and carry on; it was the only way he knew how to cope with such a tragedy.
“It seems like somebody has something against my team,” Dr. Stutzer eventually said with a sigh. “Like they oppose the research I’m doing and believe I’m ‘playing God’ with the morality engine.”
“Excuse me, but why would Red John hold something against you?” Lisbon questioned.
“Red John?” he asked, baffled.
“Dr. Miller was murdered by Red John. As a consequence, we believe that Alex Nelson may have had a link to the serial killer.”
“I didn’t know that. But why would Red John have wanted to murder Sophie?”
“Because of me,” Lisbon replied quietly. “I knew her once.”
“Well then, I’m very sorry for you as well, Ms. Lisbon,” the doctor continued gently. “Sophie was a wonderful person. But I couldn’t believe that Alex would have been working with Red John. I know he and Sophie had their minor differences in the past, but to lead her to her death? He wouldn’t have gone that far.”
“Restraining orders don’t generally indicate ‘minor differences’.”
“No, but surely I would have known? I was their boss.”
“Red John and his associates work in mysterious ways. Thank you for your time,” Lisbon answered and stood to leave.
They didn’t need to know anymore. Dr. Stutzer was clearly submersed in his work, to the extent that he had no idea what anyone who he worked with was dealing with outside of the office. Then, there was the fact that she wholly disapproved of his subject of experimentation. Controlling the human brain seemed utterly ludicrous and as the man had said himself, behaving like a God. Besides, she half suspected that the whole project would eventually turn out to be a dead end. As far as she was concerned, it just couldn’t be possible to program people into being ‘good’ or ‘evil’. That was something akin to a science-fiction movie, not reality.
There was still a little way they could go. They had the water bottle, although she suspected the poison used had been hydrogen cyanide, there was still the potential for finding prints. If they could discover who had handed it to him, then that could give them a leap forwards. Then, they had to question Nelson’s family and friends. However, despite all this, it did already feel to her that they had lost the only person she really wanted to question with regards to Sophie Miller’s murder. She didn’t for an instant believe that Nelson was Red John - he was far too young for that - but there was still a high likelihood that he was working for the serial killer.
And now, she was scared stiff. She had always assumed that they were fighting a small handful of people, with one man sitting directly at the top. Now, it was becoming more apparent that Red John’s web of control extended in ways they didn’t even understand. She had a lot of work and a lot of consideration to do. And above all else, she swore she had to keep the team safe. They didn’t deserve to die just because they were associated with her. Beyond that, she doubted Red John found them of any interest. Unless any one of the Serious Crimes Unit proved to be a threat, the serial killer probably just found them to be a minor amusement. At least, that was how Lisbon consoled herself. It didn’t mean it was necessarily true; she had always been hopeless at lying to herself and others.
“You’re shaking,” Jane remarked lightly as they approached his car.
“No I’m not,” she denied promptly.
“You’re scared.”
“And you’re not?”
“Yes, I am,” Jane admitted and then he turned to grab her by the shoulders. She didn’t shy away and instead, stared him directly in the eye. “But I’m always going to save you, Lisbon, whether you like it or not.”
“Maybe I don’t need saving.”
“Oh really?” he questioned.
“Or maybe, I just need saving from you.”
It was a lame attempt at pushing him away, but it was better than nothing. She wasn’t even quite sure what she meant by the statement. In reality, she knew that she probably meant the reverse. If Jane wasn’t careful, then he was going to end up dead because of her. There was no two ways about it.
“I’ve never met a woman quite as stubborn as you.”
“Good job you did meet me then. You need somebody to shatter your illusions from time to time.”
“Charmed.”
“I try.”
To Chapter Twenty Two
“Hey, Rigs.”
Lisbon flinched a little when she saw Wayne Rigsby’s bruised and battered face when she entered the bullpen first thing in the morning. She remembered the incidents of forty-eight hours previously, clear as day. This was her fault, she thought. If she hadn’t led him into that trap, then he wouldn’t have been beaten black and blue. She was the one with the skills to read into situations like this; she should have known that something was wrong with the lead. The only small mercy that she could content herself with was the fact that the case had been closed as a consequence. That meant that Rigsby’s physical pains weren’t endured all in vain.
“Hey, Lisbon,” he replied with a warm smile.
“You okay? Can I get you a coffee or anything?”
“I’m good thanks. Just working on some stuff I was doing last night.”
The conversation was awkward, stilted, but this was something that Lisbon had already expected. The last time they had shared a proper conversation had been as they chased up the lead in the McKinnon case. Since then, they had consistently found reasons to avoid crossing paths, until now, that was. They were the only two currently present in the bullpen and Lisbon was determined to make amends for what had been a fatal error of judgment on her part. If she didn’t deal with it, then she knew it would continue festering away in her mind long after Rigsby believed it had disappeared into irrelevancy, along with his obvious bruising.
“About the McKinnon case, when we were chasing up Lyons,” she started, speaking haltingly.
Rigsby stopped typing at that moment and turned to face her. She could feel him scrutinizing her, and she knew it wouldn’t be too long until he worked out what she was insinuating. Teresa Lisbon had never been one to mask her tells. As far as she was concerned, it meant people trusted her more. Ergo, they were more likely to open up to her when she needed them to do so.
“You feel guilty,” he stated plainly.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“Don’t be. It’s a hazard of the job.”
“But I was the one who led you-“
“It was my lead,” Rigsby interrupted, obviously keen to put his side of the story across. “You only helped confirm what I already believed.”
“I should have seen that it was a trap.”
“Then I should have as well. Please, Lisbon, stop blaming yourself. You already have more than enough burdens on your shoulders.”
She nodded; he was right. Not a day went by when she wasn’t rattled with guilt over her family’s death. And then, she blamed herself for every subsequent victim of Red John’s too, up to and including Sophie Miller. Lisbon truly believed that she should have gotten closer to the serial killer by now, and that this was getting ridiculous. More than anything, she dreaded seeing a dripping red smiley face above the body of somebody else she cared about. That nightmare still haunted her on a very regular basis.
“You’re back to work far quicker than I expected,” Lisbon remarked lightly as the tension between them dissipated considerably. “You were hospitalized.”
“That was nothing. They just wanted to give me a checkup, make sure nothing was really hurt,” he answered, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m surprised they didn’t do the same to you.”
“I’m not a good patient.”
“I can believe that, but still…”
“I’m fine, Rigsby. You were the one who…”
“It’s just cuts and bruises and I’ve already said you need to stop blaming yourself. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t feel well enough to work, even though…” he paused, considering what to say next, but Lisbon already knew what he was thinking. “We’ve got more important things to be worrying about.”
He waved a hand in the direction of his computer screen. On it were photographs from the latest Red John crime scene and an older one too, potentially the Carter and Janet Peakes double murder. Rigsby had spent the silence of the early morning cross-referencing the newest crime scene with the older ones, just to make absolutely sure that it was Red John they were dealing with again. Lisbon didn’t need assurance from technology or photographic evidence for such a thing. She just knew.
“Red John,” she breathed.
“Red John,” Rigsby echoed with a firm nod.
It wasn't long until the others arrived and soon, they were gathered around the metallic table at the end of the bullpen. If they were going to have half a chance to get any closer to Red John then they had to be prepared. Lisbon had spent half the night wide awake, thinking about the case. She wouldn't have been surprised if the same applied to every single person congregated around this table. Out of principle, she avoided sitting next to Jane. One thing she knew for certain was just how dangerous her presence in this unit was. As far as she was concerned, she had painted targets on each and every one of their backs and especially Jane's. Their comparative intimacy would undoubtedly be something that Red John would loathe. After all, he was determined to make her life a misery ever since that fateful interview she had given, courtesy of her father. Sophie Miller's murder was confirmation of that, if nothing else. All of his more recent murders were slowly but surely holding a more important relevance for the team. No longer were they disparate murders, but people they knew. The more important question was who was going to be next? And when would he grow bored of toying with them and strike at the very heart of the team?
"So, where have we got to?" Jane eventually asked after a moment's silence that lasted altogether far too long.
"Nothing from the family," Cho confirmed, as straight to the point as ever.
"I've compared the crime scene to all the other Red John murders," Rigsby added soon after. "It’s definitely not a copycat; it fits his M.O."
Although it appeared a waste of time at face value, it was still a necessary job for Rigsby to do. Evidence was crucial in any crime investigation, Lisbon knew that. In a way, she was glad he had decided to do it in his own time rather than wasting his energies when everyone was focusing on the case. Even so, it still appeared slightly like a waste of time. It was Red John; they didn’t need confirmation.
"I've organized an interview with the manager of the hospital Sophie Miller worked at until two months ago. They are very keen to assist in any way that they can."
Lisbon stiffened at Van Pelt’s mention of the hospital that Sophie used to work at. She remembered her stint in the mental institution far too vividly. The days blurred into one, the pills dulled her mind and on too many occasions, she had tried to kill herself, to join her precious family in heaven. She still bore the scars from the countless times she had slashed her wrists open with any means possible. Sometimes, she even found herself believing that the treatment she received was only serving to drive her more insane than she had already been diagnosed as being. Eventually, when she was beginning to come back to her senses, Lisbon had found that only Sophie had been a shining light whenever she visited. She owed her relative sanity to Dr. Miller, that much was obvious. Even so, she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable about the direction the conversation was headed.
"I don't think that'll be necessary, sorry Van Pelt," Lisbon said softly. "She worked there for years; Red John didn't know. It’s unlikely he ever managed to get somebody working on the inside."
The redhead looked forlorn; she had spent hours on the phone, trying desperately to find the right person to speak to. In spite of being the newest person on the team, she already understood the urgency when it came to Red John. She had used her initiative when pulling strings at the institution, but it had all been in vain. It was clear that she felt like her hours had been wasted even more so than Rigsby’s had.
"Lisbon's right," Jane added, rubbing salt into the wound. "We probably won't find anything there."
"How can you be so sure?" Cho was the one to ask. It wasn't a threat to Jane's authority, but as second in command, he clearly believed they all had a right to know.
"Dr. Miller was an... acquaintance of Teresa's," Jane said obliquely.
For a moment, she caught his eye. That was when he took particular care over explaining the relationship she had shared with Sophie. If he had left it to her, she didn't even know what she would have said. Lisbon took the opportunity to read her coworkers one by one. Rigsby and Van Pelt took the explanation at face value. Cho, meanwhile, seemed like he had been reading the deeper meaning into Jane's phraseology. He knew what their boss had really meant. He understood that she had once been a patient of the deceased doctor's but wanted it to remain fiercely private. Mental health, after all, was still most definitely a taboo subject.
"Sophie might have been headhunted while at the hospital," Lisbon said, partially to offer an olive branch to Van Pelt but mostly to keep the conversation moving. "It's probably worth sending somebody to make sure either way."
"I agree," Jane answered with a decisive nod. "Van Pelt, it's your lead, I want you to go and chase it up with Rigsby."
The rookie's face brightened instantly. After all the disappointment she had faced at her lead being crushed, she now had something to lift her spirits once again. Lisbon knew that it was the first time she had been given the opportunity to take the lead in the field. Usually, she remained stuck in the office manning the phones or chasing up paper trails. While it was important work, it was also dull and arduous. It wasn't the kind of thing that any of them signed up for when they joined the academy and trained to become cops. For the most part they were all after justice and although they wouldn't admit it, excitement too. The thrill of the chase got the blood pumping and heart pounding. It gave them an adrenalin rush. That was a shared passion, a shared need. These were well educated and highly strung people. Boredom quickly set in, especially when it came to Senior Agent Patrick Jane.
"Lisbon, you and I will go investigate the new place, the Stutzer Institute at Leyland State University, “Jane continued as Rigsby and Van Pelt promptly prepared themselves to leave. "If you're right, then Red John might have an associate working there."
Her heart sank a little. Immediately, avoiding contact with Jane for the greater good had become a failed plan. She should have known that he would have immediately assumed that everything was perfectly normal between them. After all, he hadn't been the one who had been suddenly spooked by the offer of dinner. Then, there had been that argument with her father. Jason Hamilton's callous words had settled uncomfortably in her mind and sent her overactive imagination into overdrive as a consequence. She had never liked her father, even when she had been small. Lisbon had always tried to fight against him but ultimately, she had lost out each and every time. Even on this occasion, with him bursting back on the scene after a two year absence, she could feel the power struggle between them. But she couldn't help but wonder what if he was right? What if she really was her father's daughter? What if she was always doomed to let down the people she loved spectacularly? That was why she couldn't let Jane get close to her. She had already lost one husband due to her sheer folly. Lisbon couldn't risk losing another man she loved to a similar fate.
And she knew that Jane had fallen for her too; it was something she had known that for a while. He was aware of his feelings but he was trying to act on them and keep a respectful distance at the same time. The man had always been a delightful bag of contradictions; that was something she had always liked about him. He loved action in the job but was fearful of his gun. He exuded authority and yet, somehow managed to act as anything but a boss. And he fell deeply in love but couldn't properly acknowledge it. She couldn’t really understand why he felt so much love and respect for her; she wasn’t anything particularly special. And worse, she was still caught up with her deceased husband. Although, she grudgingly admitted, that was probably not as much the case as she liked to think it was.
As much as she knew they were slowly beginning to enter a dangerous territory, she didn't argue with his instruction. He wanted her to come for a reason. That was because she was the one who would be most likely to be able to tell who was associated with Red John based on her natural instincts. Then there was the simple fact he wanted to talk. She had been acting standoffish and he would want to get to the bottom of it. He was never one to leave a mystery unsolved; whenever she displayed a new trick or mind game, he always insisted that she explained it step by step. He was quick to learn and now was beginning to use many similar techniques to what she did. The only difference was that it was clear that he remained inexperienced whereas she had grown up surrounded by this kind of thing.
Leaving Cho in the office, doing the jobs that Van Pelt would ordinarily be tasked with, they headed towards his little Citroen. She hated the thing, believed it was completely un-roadworthy but he still maintained that it was perfectly safe and a design classic. That may have been the case, but her opinion was always exacerbated by the fact that Jane was a bit of a speed demon the vast majority of the time. It seemed that she wasn’t the only one who had taken after a parent more than they would have liked to do so. Taking her by surprise, he drove slowly and steadily, but that only served to annoy her further. It was like he was deliberately delaying their arrival at the Stutzer Institute in favor of exacerbating this painful silence that had sprouted up between them. In the end, Lisbon simply gave up and was the one to break the silence.
“Are you sure it was wise allowing Rigsby and Van Pelt to work together today?” she asked quietly.
Jane glanced at her briefly and raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was only on very rare occasions that she bothered to judge his managerial decisions. That was mostly because they both knew it wasn’t her place to. If she were the one in charge, then she would have been free to make the right - or wrong - decisions as she saw fit.
“What do you mean?”
“Something happened between them two days ago, after Rigsby was hurt.”
“You thought so too?”
Lisbon nodded and Jane waved a dismissive hand from the steering wheel. “It’s against CBI policy,” she eventually said.
“I know, but they are both grown adults. It’s not my place to judge. Besides, who am I to stand in the way of their love and happiness?”
“You really believe that?”
“Yes I do. If Minelli wants to put my head on the chopping block, then so be it. It’s a stupid rule anyway. I’ve always thought so.”
“Oh.”
“And did you know, the rule does not apply to consultants?” he extrapolated and turned to face her. “You’re still a civilian, so if you wanted to date anyone on the unit…”
She cringed, but quickly noticed a viable excuse to change the subject. “The turning’s coming up. We’re nearly there.”
It was a relief to get out of closed confines with Jane. In little over an hour and a half, they had only shared one stilted conversation towards the latter end of the journey. The rest of the time, she had spent it alternating between watching Jane and staring aimlessly out of the window. There wasn’t anything else that she could have done at that moment in time. At least now they had the case to focus on; that would provide suitable distraction. Besides, she desperately wanted something to come out of this trip - and this case - for justice for Sophie. For justice for Andrew and Eva. For justice for everyone else who had lost their lives to Red John. And for justice for everyone who had been touched by the serial killer in one way or another. As difficult as the journey had been, that was far more important than any discomfort she may have felt, one way or another.
Professor Stutzer was busy when they arrived on campus, but they were promptly invited to listen in on the annual neurological symposium while they waited. Lisbon immediately accepted; a call from Van Pelt had discovered that the main guest speaker - Alex Nelson - was the ex-fiancé of Sophie Miller. Intrigued, she wanted to see this man in the flesh and maybe try and corner him before he had the chance to leave. She wanted to see how and why their relationship had broken down, and how they had come to work at the same campus. A part of her also begged the question of if the man had been related to Red John somehow, and had taken delight in leading her to the serial killer’s domain. But those were questions that would have to wait until later.
In the end, she didn’t even get to ask them at all. After sipping at a bottle of water, Nelson attempted to give his speech. He grew increasingly incoherent and dizzy. Even from the spot at the back of the auditorium, Lisbon could see the spots of sweat flecking at his forehead. Thankfully, Jane had already had the initiative to call for paramedics, but it was too late. The scientist had collapsed and promptly died before her superior had even had a chance to finish the call. Then, she moved into action and Jane called for backup. University security cleared the place on their behalf and soon, the bustling auditorium had become deathly silent.
“Don’t touch the bottle,” Lisbon snapped when one of the security staff went to pick it up. “It’s evidence.”
“It probably won’t have any prints on it,” Jane said as he appeared by her side.
“What makes you so sure?”
“According to Rigsby and Van Pelt, Nelson was the one to headhunt Sophie. He wanted her here despite their acrimonious personal relationship.”
“To kill?” Lisbon asked. “I guess it makes sense.”
“You done here?”
“Nearly.”
There wasn’t really much more she needed to do, but she felt the need to stare at the body one last time. Just a couple of hours ago, this man had been absolutely fine. Now he was poisoned and dead, just like the ex-security guard at the CBI headquarters. She could feel that this was Red John’s way of tying up loose ends and that only served to make him feel all the more dangerous in her eyes. Just how widespread was this man? Just how many people did he have under his spell and how did he convince the likes of Nelson to lure innocent people to their deaths? But then, she should have known that - somehow - the relationship she had shared with Sophie had made it to Red John. Obviously, Dr. Miller had let confidentiality slip to Nelson, and Nelson had eventually sold her out to the serial killer. Then, he had proved to be no longer useful and as a consequence had died in quite a spectacular manner. They knew that Nelson and Sophie Miller had had serious issues; Cho had quickly uncovered evidence of a restraining order and promptly told them via text. But that didn’t explain how they got from there to Sophie’s death.
By the time they finally had access to Dr. Stutzer, the man was reeling with shock at the fact he had lost not one but two of his subordinates in the space of thirty-six hours. The old man seemed to be visibly shaking, but he insisted that their work must go on and that the ‘morality engine’ they were working on in the brain was at the forefront of cutting-edge technology. They were nearing breakthrough and it would dishonor the memories of Drs. Miller and Nelson to delay the project they had both been working so tirelessly on right now. Of course, a memorial for them both would be going ahead as soon as possible, but for now, it wasn’t necessarily the priority. At face value, Lisbon could see that the decision could be perceived as being cold and callous; however, she also understood his sentiment. Besides, he was old and stuck in his ways. All he wanted to do was keep calm and carry on; it was the only way he knew how to cope with such a tragedy.
“It seems like somebody has something against my team,” Dr. Stutzer eventually said with a sigh. “Like they oppose the research I’m doing and believe I’m ‘playing God’ with the morality engine.”
“Excuse me, but why would Red John hold something against you?” Lisbon questioned.
“Red John?” he asked, baffled.
“Dr. Miller was murdered by Red John. As a consequence, we believe that Alex Nelson may have had a link to the serial killer.”
“I didn’t know that. But why would Red John have wanted to murder Sophie?”
“Because of me,” Lisbon replied quietly. “I knew her once.”
“Well then, I’m very sorry for you as well, Ms. Lisbon,” the doctor continued gently. “Sophie was a wonderful person. But I couldn’t believe that Alex would have been working with Red John. I know he and Sophie had their minor differences in the past, but to lead her to her death? He wouldn’t have gone that far.”
“Restraining orders don’t generally indicate ‘minor differences’.”
“No, but surely I would have known? I was their boss.”
“Red John and his associates work in mysterious ways. Thank you for your time,” Lisbon answered and stood to leave.
They didn’t need to know anymore. Dr. Stutzer was clearly submersed in his work, to the extent that he had no idea what anyone who he worked with was dealing with outside of the office. Then, there was the fact that she wholly disapproved of his subject of experimentation. Controlling the human brain seemed utterly ludicrous and as the man had said himself, behaving like a God. Besides, she half suspected that the whole project would eventually turn out to be a dead end. As far as she was concerned, it just couldn’t be possible to program people into being ‘good’ or ‘evil’. That was something akin to a science-fiction movie, not reality.
There was still a little way they could go. They had the water bottle, although she suspected the poison used had been hydrogen cyanide, there was still the potential for finding prints. If they could discover who had handed it to him, then that could give them a leap forwards. Then, they had to question Nelson’s family and friends. However, despite all this, it did already feel to her that they had lost the only person she really wanted to question with regards to Sophie Miller’s murder. She didn’t for an instant believe that Nelson was Red John - he was far too young for that - but there was still a high likelihood that he was working for the serial killer.
And now, she was scared stiff. She had always assumed that they were fighting a small handful of people, with one man sitting directly at the top. Now, it was becoming more apparent that Red John’s web of control extended in ways they didn’t even understand. She had a lot of work and a lot of consideration to do. And above all else, she swore she had to keep the team safe. They didn’t deserve to die just because they were associated with her. Beyond that, she doubted Red John found them of any interest. Unless any one of the Serious Crimes Unit proved to be a threat, the serial killer probably just found them to be a minor amusement. At least, that was how Lisbon consoled herself. It didn’t mean it was necessarily true; she had always been hopeless at lying to herself and others.
“You’re shaking,” Jane remarked lightly as they approached his car.
“No I’m not,” she denied promptly.
“You’re scared.”
“And you’re not?”
“Yes, I am,” Jane admitted and then he turned to grab her by the shoulders. She didn’t shy away and instead, stared him directly in the eye. “But I’m always going to save you, Lisbon, whether you like it or not.”
“Maybe I don’t need saving.”
“Oh really?” he questioned.
“Or maybe, I just need saving from you.”
It was a lame attempt at pushing him away, but it was better than nothing. She wasn’t even quite sure what she meant by the statement. In reality, she knew that she probably meant the reverse. If Jane wasn’t careful, then he was going to end up dead because of her. There was no two ways about it.
“I’ve never met a woman quite as stubborn as you.”
“Good job you did meet me then. You need somebody to shatter your illusions from time to time.”
“Charmed.”
“I try.”
To Chapter Twenty Two