Russian Roulette (9/16)
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight
Part Nine - Closer
The honeymoon was beautiful.
They stayed in Mexico and it was Lisbon’s first visit to the country, despite having lived in California for over a decade. The hotel was so luxurious that Lisbon could scarcely believe they could afford it; Jackson had been the one to book it though. He’d insisted upon spoiling her for the honeymoon and who was she to say no? Lightly, she pressed him for more information. She wanted to know where he had gotten the funds for it, but he remained stubbornly tight-lipped. Naturally, her intrigue was piqued, but she cast her concerns to one side at the time. There was nothing she could have done about it; she had no resources to investigate so, instead, she decided to simply enjoy herself until she could.
As she fired up her computer at work for the first time in three weeks, she told herself that she trusted him. She wasn’t checking up behind Jackson’s back and he had given her no reason to distrust him. Lisbon knew that he was as secretive as she was inherently a loner; they were just issues that they had to work through together. Some days, it was easier and then on other occasions, they just fell back into old habits. Still, all she was doing was checking that the money hadn’t come from a shady source. She didn’t really believe that it did, but the small ‘what if’ in the back of her mind insisted upon being answered.
Her search was quickly rewarded, but that didn’t surprise her. For Lisbon, these kinds of background checks were child’s play. She’d done one on Jackson earlier in their relationship, before they had gotten serious about one another. However, Lisbon knew from experience that information in background checks could change in the blink of an eye.
From what she had discovered, he had transferred money out of a bank account belonging to a company named ‘J.R. Solutions’. This didn’t faze her; she had already known that he ran a small company in his spare time. Computing was his specialty both in the workplace and at home. She’d watched as he provided simple solutions to computer issues for those willing to pay for them. The website he’d set up alongside it confirmed everything that Jackson had already told her. Still, Lisbon’s frown deepened. She knew that the money he made from his company provided them with a nice little nest egg, in case of emergencies. However, she hadn’t known that he was doing so well at it that he could afford to pay for such a spectacular honeymoon. After all, apart from the odd business meeting which he had taken time off work for, he barely seemed to spend any time on it.
She shook her head violently and closed down the pages promptly. Then she turned her attention to her overflowing inbox. There was no way she could justify wasting precious work time investigating her husband - somebody she claimed to trust implicitly - when she had so much to do. Rigsby and Cho had been very busy while she had been away. They had even managed to close a couple of the more minor cases in that time. They were welcome back presents, they had claimed; she hadn’t told either of them that she had gotten married, they were her coworkers and subordinates and she had to keep that line of professionalism between her and them. However, each case generated its own paperwork and that was something she still had to deal with.
And of course, although they had closed those cases, new ones had promptly opened in their place. People could never seem to take a break from killing one another, especially if a cop decided to take some time off.
The one reprieve, she decided was the fact that Red John had remained quiet of late. He hadn’t killed for several months and that could only mean good things. However, that also meant they were no closer to apprehending him, too. Still, given the choice between another person losing their life to Red John and another family being destroyed by him as a consequence or stubborn silence on that front, she knew which she’d prefer each and every time. Though it hadn’t been murder, merely a car accident, Lisbon knew just how painful it was waiting for answers that would never come. They never caught the hit-and-run driver who had stolen her mother’s life.
Work went pretty quickly. The only big thing to happen was the fact that Minelli had scheduled a meeting in the upcoming days between them. And not just any old meeting either, but her annual review. Lisbon’s heart sank; however well she got along with Minelli, she still loathed those reviews as much as the next person. She understood the necessity, but that didn’t cut down on the stress of it all. That was probably the last thing she needed to return back to. However, she did have some questions for him. The workload she had returned to seemed very excessive for just the three people, especially when Major Crimes filled a similar remit to her unit. More work wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, it showed that Minelli trusted her and her team, but she did need more manpower if she was going to treat each case in the way she wanted to.
Despite it being a relatively quiet day and a good one to ease herself back into the working routine, Lisbon was glad to go home. Jackson had stopped working at the CBI in favor of focusing on his business, something she couldn’t blame him for, but she had still missed knowing he was around. On the drive home, she dropped by the local grocery store to pick up some essentials and a bottle of wine for dinner. She’d promised Jackson she would cook and she knew that it would go well with what she had planned. When she pulled up, he didn’t meet her by the car, as he often did when she finished work later than he did, but she tried not to show that it bothered her. Instead, she headed straight inside, groceries in hand.
When she saw a note pinned to the fridge, saying that he had had to rush to an important meeting and wouldn’t be back for a week, her heart sank. That wasn’t what she had wanted to return home to.
xxx
Carefully, he dipped his gloved fingers into the warm blood of his latest victim. Red John took a few steps up to the appropriate wall before drawing his calling card on top of the mirror. Once he had finished, he took a step back and admired his handiwork. Then, he gave his latest victim one last passing glance before heading out.
It was three a.m.; if he hung around much longer, he knew that Gemma Appleby’s husband would catch him in the act and that would never do. Red John knew how much of a risk he was taking by killing Gemma - technically, it was off M.O. because he had been paid to do it - but he hadn’t been able to say no. Only recently had he taken to acting as a hit man. Sourcing out victims was sometimes a laborious task; if he could be handed them on a silver platter, then it was all the more fun for him. After all, it meant he had to think out of the box when it came to ensnaring them and preparing for the kill. Besides, how many other people could claim that their job was also their hobby? He’d taken pleasure in killing Gemma; she was the kind of woman he preyed upon naturally. However, Red John knew that he would never have found her without the intervention of another man.
As he drove back to the dingy motel he was staying at, he found his mind considering questions he hadn’t had the chance to think about earlier. When he’d accepted the challenge, all he thought about was how, where and when to do it. At the time, he had been so busy preparing for his upcoming nuptials that he hadn’t had a chance to think about anything else. Red John understood why his business partner (as he liked to think of the man) wanted Gemma dead, but why hadn’t he dealt with the issue himself? Then again, so many people were squeamish and unable to deal with their own mistakes. Instead, they passed them off onto other people and let them pick up the pieces. He couldn’t complain though; he was profiting from this murder and it had been so long since he had last killed somebody.
As he locked his car and headed into his room, he began to think of his wife. He’d left her a brief note to tell her he was away on business, and he felt a touch guilty about not letting her know in the flesh. After all, sooner or later, she would be arriving at the Appleby family home to take a look at his handiwork. Unlike him, who saw it as a work of art, she would only see the grotesque nature of his job. Her Catholic upbringing would probably lead her to uttering a quiet prayer for Gemma and her family. Then, she would go about her job, trying desperately to find the woman’s killer.
But because Red John understood the woman who hunted him so well, he knew that Teresa Lisbon wouldn’t find any evidence whatsoever. He was too practiced at killing to leave obvious clues. And besides, he knew her mindset and precisely what to avoid when carrying out bloody murder.
Eventually, he headed to bed, but slept restlessly. For a start, he knew he had to be up in a matter of hours in order to carry out the next stage of his plan. Secondly, he found that he missed the warm body of his wife sleeping by his side. During their three week honeymoon in Mexico, he had grown accustomed to her always being there. It was something he had almost began to rely upon. Her presence stopped darker thoughts from creeping into his mind. In a way, having Lisbon there had stopped him from thinking about what it would be like to kill her. It seemed a little counter-intuitive, but somehow, it still worked for him.
After two hours of tossing and turning, he eventually hauled himself out of bed and back into his car. A half hour drive and he was back at the Appleby residence, just in time to see the husband of the deceased come tearing out, screaming ‘murder, murder!’ Instinctively, he slammed his breaks on just in time to stop him from hitting the man; his instructions were very clear about that. ‘I want the husband to suffer,’ the text message had said. ‘He’s the one who screwed me out of millions of dollars. He worships the ground his wife walks on.’ And thus, Gemma had become his fourteenth victim.
Red John climbed out of his car caught hold of the man before he ran away. Tears streamed down his face as he bawled his eyes out. Tempering his features into a concerned expression, Red John asked the man what was wrong and why he was so upset. Wordlessly, Mr. Appleby led him into the home and straight to the master bedroom.
“Red John killed her,” the man said in a hollowed voice. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“I’ll call the police,” Red John answered quickly in response. “They’ll know what to do.”
As he picked up the family phone, he let out a small smile. Little did the man know he had just let the serial killer himself straight back into his home.
To Part Ten
Part Nine - Closer
The honeymoon was beautiful.
They stayed in Mexico and it was Lisbon’s first visit to the country, despite having lived in California for over a decade. The hotel was so luxurious that Lisbon could scarcely believe they could afford it; Jackson had been the one to book it though. He’d insisted upon spoiling her for the honeymoon and who was she to say no? Lightly, she pressed him for more information. She wanted to know where he had gotten the funds for it, but he remained stubbornly tight-lipped. Naturally, her intrigue was piqued, but she cast her concerns to one side at the time. There was nothing she could have done about it; she had no resources to investigate so, instead, she decided to simply enjoy herself until she could.
As she fired up her computer at work for the first time in three weeks, she told herself that she trusted him. She wasn’t checking up behind Jackson’s back and he had given her no reason to distrust him. Lisbon knew that he was as secretive as she was inherently a loner; they were just issues that they had to work through together. Some days, it was easier and then on other occasions, they just fell back into old habits. Still, all she was doing was checking that the money hadn’t come from a shady source. She didn’t really believe that it did, but the small ‘what if’ in the back of her mind insisted upon being answered.
Her search was quickly rewarded, but that didn’t surprise her. For Lisbon, these kinds of background checks were child’s play. She’d done one on Jackson earlier in their relationship, before they had gotten serious about one another. However, Lisbon knew from experience that information in background checks could change in the blink of an eye.
From what she had discovered, he had transferred money out of a bank account belonging to a company named ‘J.R. Solutions’. This didn’t faze her; she had already known that he ran a small company in his spare time. Computing was his specialty both in the workplace and at home. She’d watched as he provided simple solutions to computer issues for those willing to pay for them. The website he’d set up alongside it confirmed everything that Jackson had already told her. Still, Lisbon’s frown deepened. She knew that the money he made from his company provided them with a nice little nest egg, in case of emergencies. However, she hadn’t known that he was doing so well at it that he could afford to pay for such a spectacular honeymoon. After all, apart from the odd business meeting which he had taken time off work for, he barely seemed to spend any time on it.
She shook her head violently and closed down the pages promptly. Then she turned her attention to her overflowing inbox. There was no way she could justify wasting precious work time investigating her husband - somebody she claimed to trust implicitly - when she had so much to do. Rigsby and Cho had been very busy while she had been away. They had even managed to close a couple of the more minor cases in that time. They were welcome back presents, they had claimed; she hadn’t told either of them that she had gotten married, they were her coworkers and subordinates and she had to keep that line of professionalism between her and them. However, each case generated its own paperwork and that was something she still had to deal with.
And of course, although they had closed those cases, new ones had promptly opened in their place. People could never seem to take a break from killing one another, especially if a cop decided to take some time off.
The one reprieve, she decided was the fact that Red John had remained quiet of late. He hadn’t killed for several months and that could only mean good things. However, that also meant they were no closer to apprehending him, too. Still, given the choice between another person losing their life to Red John and another family being destroyed by him as a consequence or stubborn silence on that front, she knew which she’d prefer each and every time. Though it hadn’t been murder, merely a car accident, Lisbon knew just how painful it was waiting for answers that would never come. They never caught the hit-and-run driver who had stolen her mother’s life.
Work went pretty quickly. The only big thing to happen was the fact that Minelli had scheduled a meeting in the upcoming days between them. And not just any old meeting either, but her annual review. Lisbon’s heart sank; however well she got along with Minelli, she still loathed those reviews as much as the next person. She understood the necessity, but that didn’t cut down on the stress of it all. That was probably the last thing she needed to return back to. However, she did have some questions for him. The workload she had returned to seemed very excessive for just the three people, especially when Major Crimes filled a similar remit to her unit. More work wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, it showed that Minelli trusted her and her team, but she did need more manpower if she was going to treat each case in the way she wanted to.
Despite it being a relatively quiet day and a good one to ease herself back into the working routine, Lisbon was glad to go home. Jackson had stopped working at the CBI in favor of focusing on his business, something she couldn’t blame him for, but she had still missed knowing he was around. On the drive home, she dropped by the local grocery store to pick up some essentials and a bottle of wine for dinner. She’d promised Jackson she would cook and she knew that it would go well with what she had planned. When she pulled up, he didn’t meet her by the car, as he often did when she finished work later than he did, but she tried not to show that it bothered her. Instead, she headed straight inside, groceries in hand.
When she saw a note pinned to the fridge, saying that he had had to rush to an important meeting and wouldn’t be back for a week, her heart sank. That wasn’t what she had wanted to return home to.
xxx
Carefully, he dipped his gloved fingers into the warm blood of his latest victim. Red John took a few steps up to the appropriate wall before drawing his calling card on top of the mirror. Once he had finished, he took a step back and admired his handiwork. Then, he gave his latest victim one last passing glance before heading out.
It was three a.m.; if he hung around much longer, he knew that Gemma Appleby’s husband would catch him in the act and that would never do. Red John knew how much of a risk he was taking by killing Gemma - technically, it was off M.O. because he had been paid to do it - but he hadn’t been able to say no. Only recently had he taken to acting as a hit man. Sourcing out victims was sometimes a laborious task; if he could be handed them on a silver platter, then it was all the more fun for him. After all, it meant he had to think out of the box when it came to ensnaring them and preparing for the kill. Besides, how many other people could claim that their job was also their hobby? He’d taken pleasure in killing Gemma; she was the kind of woman he preyed upon naturally. However, Red John knew that he would never have found her without the intervention of another man.
As he drove back to the dingy motel he was staying at, he found his mind considering questions he hadn’t had the chance to think about earlier. When he’d accepted the challenge, all he thought about was how, where and when to do it. At the time, he had been so busy preparing for his upcoming nuptials that he hadn’t had a chance to think about anything else. Red John understood why his business partner (as he liked to think of the man) wanted Gemma dead, but why hadn’t he dealt with the issue himself? Then again, so many people were squeamish and unable to deal with their own mistakes. Instead, they passed them off onto other people and let them pick up the pieces. He couldn’t complain though; he was profiting from this murder and it had been so long since he had last killed somebody.
As he locked his car and headed into his room, he began to think of his wife. He’d left her a brief note to tell her he was away on business, and he felt a touch guilty about not letting her know in the flesh. After all, sooner or later, she would be arriving at the Appleby family home to take a look at his handiwork. Unlike him, who saw it as a work of art, she would only see the grotesque nature of his job. Her Catholic upbringing would probably lead her to uttering a quiet prayer for Gemma and her family. Then, she would go about her job, trying desperately to find the woman’s killer.
But because Red John understood the woman who hunted him so well, he knew that Teresa Lisbon wouldn’t find any evidence whatsoever. He was too practiced at killing to leave obvious clues. And besides, he knew her mindset and precisely what to avoid when carrying out bloody murder.
Eventually, he headed to bed, but slept restlessly. For a start, he knew he had to be up in a matter of hours in order to carry out the next stage of his plan. Secondly, he found that he missed the warm body of his wife sleeping by his side. During their three week honeymoon in Mexico, he had grown accustomed to her always being there. It was something he had almost began to rely upon. Her presence stopped darker thoughts from creeping into his mind. In a way, having Lisbon there had stopped him from thinking about what it would be like to kill her. It seemed a little counter-intuitive, but somehow, it still worked for him.
After two hours of tossing and turning, he eventually hauled himself out of bed and back into his car. A half hour drive and he was back at the Appleby residence, just in time to see the husband of the deceased come tearing out, screaming ‘murder, murder!’ Instinctively, he slammed his breaks on just in time to stop him from hitting the man; his instructions were very clear about that. ‘I want the husband to suffer,’ the text message had said. ‘He’s the one who screwed me out of millions of dollars. He worships the ground his wife walks on.’ And thus, Gemma had become his fourteenth victim.
Red John climbed out of his car caught hold of the man before he ran away. Tears streamed down his face as he bawled his eyes out. Tempering his features into a concerned expression, Red John asked the man what was wrong and why he was so upset. Wordlessly, Mr. Appleby led him into the home and straight to the master bedroom.
“Red John killed her,” the man said in a hollowed voice. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“I’ll call the police,” Red John answered quickly in response. “They’ll know what to do.”
As he picked up the family phone, he let out a small smile. Little did the man know he had just let the serial killer himself straight back into his home.
To Part Ten