Ricochet (1/25)
Ricochet
Author: tromana
Artist: branquignole I lilsmiles86
Link to art: branquignole (coming soon) | lilsmiles86
Word Count: unknown
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sparks collide.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist. Artwork is courtesy of my two artists.
Notes: With huge, huge thanks to miss_peg who beta'd this monster, served as a constant hand holder and was genuinely my life support throughout writing this fic. Thanks also to branquignole and lilsmiles86 for daring to take on such a monster and making fantastic artwork. Final thanks to ch19777 for supplying the original idea.
Ricochet
Chapter One
Teresa Lisbon sat with her ankles crossed and her hands resting demurely on her lap. She let out a cautious smile when the red light began to blink. They were on the air. This chat show hadn't been her idea; her whole career, even, had been guided by the careful hand of her manager. Every night, she went to sleep, plagued by questions of the moral dubiousness of what she did. In a way, she was desperate to escape it. The problem was how. For even now, her father hung around her neck, like a noose that tightened every time she disobeyed him. Lisbon had been brought up to honor her father, and she did. However, the blurred line between family and professionalism caused their relationship to be fractious. She was a grown woman with a family of her own now. Lisbon no longer needed the lingering presence of her father looming over her. But as her manager, he insisted he had every right to stay. On a daily basis he reminded her that she would be nothing without him.
And in truth, he was right. She had more money than she could ever dream of spending, even without her dad's extensive share. Her money was all squirrelled away for a rainy day, something for her to rely upon if things ever got tough. Lisbon was used to the frugal lifestyle; she was used to having nothing at all, especially during the early years on the carnival circuit where, some nights, she was lucky if she had anything to eat at all. Fear of having to return to that kind of situation was what made her save frenetically. She didn't want her daughter to live with nothing; she didn't deserve to go through what her mother had.
The image of her daughter and husband flooded to the forefront of her mind and Lisbon let out her first genuine smile since she had arrived at the recording studios. Her husband supported her wholeheartedly; he understood her dilemma when it came to her career. He knew how it plagued her waking and sleeping thoughts, and didn’t try to persuade her or dissuade her in any way. Instead, he just held her hand and let her come up with her own decisions, whatever suited her best. Andrew also knew that she got the most joy out of volunteering her services to the Sac P.D. as it made her feel like she was giving back to the society she was stealing from. However, it was clear that she was also not prepared to cause a familial rift with her father. She was all he had left now and regardless of how much she loathed deceiving people, it was what worked for the both of them.
"Teresa?" a voice called, reminding her of precisely where she was.
"Yes?"
She had entirely missed what was going on. The male presenter reached out and touched her left knee with a consoling smile. His eyes shined with admiration as she flinched at his gentle touch. She couldn't help it; this, in her humble opinion, was the worst part of her job. What she did wasn't miraculous; it was all based in pure science. However, she had everybody else convinced that she was in contact with the dead, a true psychic. In reality, all she did was wordplay, mind games, reading of body language and the like.
"It's okay. We understand," he continued, and grinned that inane smile she hated. "It must be difficult, coming out of the zone."
Lisbon remained mute but nodded in agreement. It was as good an explanation as any and besides, it ensured she appeared professional instead of telling them the simple fact that she'd been daydreaming, and thus revealing the truth behind her skill set.
"Why don't you have a drink of water?" the male presenter continued and Lisbon nodded in response.
Ordinarily, she wasn't the kind of person to accept drinks from strangers; she was far too suspicious for that. However, the drinks had been served by a runner prior to going on air and the jug of water had been served to both her and the two presenters. It was highly unlikely that if she were going to be targeted by somebody, that they would be willing to have two semi-celebrities taken down as by-products too. Lisbon was all too aware of the hazards of her job. The very nature of it meant that, by default, there were often disgruntled customers, relatives or even exes who took an instant dislike to what she told people. But, she reminded herself, she dealt only in the truth and sometimes, the truth hurt. If people weren’t too blind to see the truth for themselves, then they wouldn't have to pay somebody else - notably, her - to do it for them.
She took a reluctant sip as she refocused her mind onto the task in hand. That was to get through this interview unscathed with some modicum of dignity. Lisbon hadn't wanted to go through with it; she loathed the limelight, even if she was comfortable enough dealing with people on a one-to-one basis. However, her father had booked it before she had even had a chance to shoot the concept down. He'd insisted it would be good publicity, that they would be able to make enough money to ensure her daughter would have a decent trust fund. And that had been enough to convince her. Her main weakness was her family and Lisbon would walk to the ends of the earth for her only child. Her father knew that all too well and was more than happy to exploit it. Time after time, she had walked into similar situations with her eyes wide open.
She blinked several times, shook her head and then smiled back at the presenters. The vacuous blonde woman breathed a sigh of relief, clearly pleased that her interviewee had finally composed herself enough to continue with said interview. After all, this was going out live and they had a strict schedule to attend to.
"You back with us, Teresa?" she asked genially.
"I am," she confirmed and the woman breathed a sigh of relief.
"She's back in the room," the man confirmed to the avid studio audience, who let out a ripple of applause.
"She's back in the room!" the woman echoed loudly, as if to make sure that everybody was absolutely certain of the fact.
Lisbon swallowed down a smirk. She had never left the room in the first place, but that didn't mean she felt comfortable exposing herself in such a way. Silently, she reminded herself to think of Eva, who would be watching at home with her father. Soon enough, she would be reunited with them. There was only approximately ten minutes of this farce left to endure. The man plunged right in, asking her to explain her supposed skills to the audience. All of it was lies and she hated herself for telling it, but her father had trained her rigorously in the art of deception. Even so, it still came as somewhat of a relief when it seemed they were convinced by what she was telling them. Sooner or later, she swore somebody would see right through her and then, the game would be up. Every time it ended in success, she couldn't help but count her blessings.
Soon enough, the conversation moved onto her voluntary work and for a second, Lisbon panicked. That work was meant to be private, her way of absolving her sins. Nobody was meant to know about the work she did with the Sacramento Police Department. However, she couldn't fault them for having a decent research department, nor did she lie about her involvement. There were only so many lies she could deal with handing out to people. Besides, she could hear her father saying that talking about her philanthropy would only paint her in a better light. Marks always seemed convinced that only good people worked for charities, or the like; it was ‘money you can’t buy’ promotion.
"So, Teresa, I hear you've been investigating some really serious cases including, and let me get this right," he paused for dramatic effect before continuing, "Red John?"
"Yes I am," she answered cautiously.
"That has gotta be scary, hasn't it? Chasing down notorious criminals?"
She sighed. People always seemed to have an unusual perception of what she actually did to help law enforcement. It certainly wasn't as glamorous as her day job, but neither was it anywhere near as dangerous as being an actual cop. However, she only met criminals when she was profiling them on very rare occasions. Sac P.D. usually deemed that to be too hazardous; they couldn’t risk such an asset as her. Besides, she half suspected they believed if anything happened to her, her father would sue them for all they were worth. The sad truth was she could see him doing just that. He seemed to have no consideration for the fact she was a grown woman now, and a mother herself. Everything he did he claimed he did for her, regardless of whether or not she actually wanted him to do so.
Despite the restrictions that had been put in place, volunteering her services to Sac P.D. had brought her a lot of joy over the past two years. She had always loved a challenge and helping the law enforcement officers to solve the most difficult crimes was about as challenging as it came. They respected her as a person, respected her insights and abilities and were more than happy to have her around too. Considering just how male dominated law enforcement was, that had been a pleasant surprise for her. Then again, she wouldn't have been surprised if the men simply enjoyed having a woman in the workplace either.
"It's fulfilling," she admitted honestly. "And if I can help them, just a little bit..."
Lisbon trailed off but the presenters continued to look at her expectantly. It was clear they wanted to hear more about what she did; they wanted to know precisely what she did with them. They were like a dog with a bone; as interesting as it had been to see her do a supposed 'psychic reading', people were always far more intrigued by the darker side of life. Murder, death, crime, destruction and the like, that was what they wanted to hear about. People had always found that kind of thing far more interesting than the positives. Her trade may have been in dealing false hope, but there had to be some kind of negative in order for her to do it in the first place.
"Tell us some more about Red John," the female presenter urged. "How would you go about dealing with him?"
As she considered the question, Lisbon bit on her lip. She had to be careful with precisely what she said. A lot of what she knew about Red John was confidential. Lisbon was one of very few civilians who had been exposed to the case files, and Detective Elliot had urgently told her that it was under the strictest of confidence. He hadn’t been expecting any great revelations from her; they had been working the case for years. All he wanted was her insight to try and help point them in the right direction. That automatically made Lisbon question just how they had known she had worked on Red John at all. She had only told two people herself: her husband and her father.
"I help to profile the criminals, usually from what they leave at the crime scene. That tells you a lot about how they wish to be portrayed and how clever they think they are. Red John takes a lot of pride in his work. The smiley face alone tells you a lot; he thinks he is changing the world and it brings him great pleasure. He has a sense of humor; there's the irony of a smiley face beaming down at the victim..."
"And what about the man behind the smiley face, what is Red John himself like?"
She closed her eyes and years of instructions from her father came flooding back. Remember, you have to sell the act, Teresa. They think you're a psychic, and you can see into other people's souls and beyond the grave. You can't be clinical when you're with a mark. It's your job to make them believe you can see what others cannot. Instinctively, she shivered slightly. Her father always said she was too blunt, that she needed to make more of a show out of what she did. He always accused her of going straight to the point and reminded her that people were paying for a show, not just the information she imparted.
"It's a window to his soul. The smiley face, I mean. I look at it and I can see the man that he is and what he wants to be. He's a troubled man, who is haunted by his past. He never had a real father figure or family at all; he's good with his hands, but is embarrassed to speak in public. Like everyone else, he, only wants to be happy, but is shackled to the darkness of his past."
A hushed silence filled the studio as the presenters and audience took on the ramifications of her speech. Eventually, the vacuous blonde woman whispered a hushed 'wow' before the ripple of applause crescendoed to a loud cheer. Lisbon both loved and hated the sound of applause. It would have been foolish of her to deny that she didn't enjoy the ego trip just a little bit. However, as far as she was concerned, it was for all the wrong reasons. What she did wasn't spectacular or impressive. It wasn't a gift from God either. No, anybody could learn to do what she did with a little application and a lot of hard work. Besides, it wasn't as if she were saving lives or creating world peace. Essentially, she was lying and administering false hope. But, false hope was better than none at all.
"Amazing, I'm amazed," the female presenter eventually breathed once the audience had quieted down.
"She’s amazed, we're all amazed," the man concurred and Lisbon smiled briefly in response. "I don't know how you do it."
She shrugged her shoulders slightly, but that only succeeded in endearing her to the interviewers further. At least she knew that this farce was nearly over. Then, she could go home and help put her daughter to bed. She'd promised Eva she would be there and Lisbon hated letting her little girl down. Her father seemed only to know how to use her, and from the moment she had discovered she was pregnant, Lisbon had promised to never treat her child like a meal ticket.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Teresa Lisbon," the man continued, before changing the subject. "And after the break, we have the man who owns a cat who detects seizures. Which, I'm sure will be absolutely fascinating. Make sure you stick with us to check it out."
The forced smiles of both presenters stopped the moment that the blinking red light switched off. Makeup artists quickly descended to give them both touch ups, ready for the next segment. Part of Lisbon doubted that either of them had genuinely found her skills fascinating, and the supposed seizure cat that was coming up next even less so. Still, she was free to leave and that was the main thing. She rose to her feet and made three steps away before somebody called her name.
"Teresa, wait!"
It was the blonde woman. She almost tripped over her heels in her haste, but Lisbon ignored that. Instead, she turned around to regard the woman properly, unimpressed by the delay. Despite having just been interviewed by this vacuous blonde, she didn't even remember her name. She didn't care; this woman was a cardboard cutout presenter; they were all the same. The woman held that same hopeful expression that all of her clients had in their eyes, though. Will you help me; can you really talk to my deceased loved one and help me get closure or tell if my husband is cheating on me?
"How may I help you," she paused for a second, as she fought her way to remembering this woman's name, "Alexa?"
"I don't have long," she started haltingly, "the ad break is nearly over..."
"Then you better make it quick," Lisbon retorted, more snappishly than she would have liked.
"It's my husband; he's been distant and moody. And I found a set of lingerie, but it wasn't in my size..."
"You think he's having an affair?"
"Yes!” Alexa said, relieved that Lisbon had cut to the bone of the matter swiftly. “Your manager said you would be able to tell for certain? I can pay you..."
"Book an appointment and I'll see what I can do," Lisbon instructed firmly.
"I'll pay you double if you do it after today's show."
"But..."
"Triple, in cash,” she added determinedly, cutting Lisbon off as she did so. “Please, Teresa, I can't keep living a lie; I need to know the truth."
Already, she could hear her father begging her to take the money and run. He would have been proud about how her apparent reluctance had driven up the going price, even though that had never been Lisbon’s intention. As far as she was concerned, her fees were already extortionate and being paid triple that was just ridiculous. And yet, it would provide her with an ideal excuse to supplement Eva's trust fund. But she also wouldn't have the chance to investigate Alexa, or her husband thoroughly. She hated meeting with a client without being fully prepared. It made her feel nervous that somebody might see straight through her fragile façade.
Alexa battered her doe eyes at her, and before she had a chance to object, Lisbon found herself agreeing to it. She told herself that she would have been a fool not to, and besides it wouldn't take all that long. The woman already seemed to know deep down that her husband was a cheat. All she was looking for was confirmation from an external and impartial source. Lisbon knew she would still be able to get home to her daughter in time, even if it would make it more rushed than she would have liked. That was provided that the traffic didn't slow her down, of course.
"Thank you, thank you," the woman breathed. The producer was going crazy in the corner, and Lisbon knew their time was up. "Wait in my dressing room; use my laptop if you get bored. I don't mind."
Lisbon watched as the woman took her seat on the couch. From the moment that she was seated beside her co-presenter once more, she was all smiles. Then, Lisbon was ushered away by a runner and now, she had to play the waiting game. At least, she surmised, she had been given free access to the Internet. She didn't have to be quite as unprepared as she originally anticipated. Immediately, she installed herself in the room and pulled the laptop onto her lap. All things considered, Alexa was being incredibly trusting. It also provided Lisbon with access to many documents to help her cause.
Even so, Lisbon still found herself growing impatient, waiting for this woman to turn up. Her eyes continually strayed to the clock on the wall, and simultaneously, time seemed to be slowing down and speeding up. Her heart sank as yet another hour passed by, and her hopes of seeing Eva before bedtime slowly but surely diminished into nothingness. Vaguely, she wondered what the holdup had been. Just after her interview, there had been only approximately one hour left of the show. Besides, Alexa had seemed incredibly keen to go through with this. Why was she causing such a delay? Lisbon’s heart sank; she should never have agreed to do this private reading at such short notice. She checked her cellphone for what felt like the umpteenth time, but Andrew hadn’t responded. Maybe he was mad at her for changing plans at such short notice? Or maybe, he was just annoyed that she hadn’t consulted him before making this booking? No, this was Andrew. He understood her and her idiosyncrasies; he’d grown up with her, he was her best friend and confidante as well as her husband. It was far more likely that he was either too distracted by Eva to reply, or he’d simply let his phone run out of battery.
She was about to consider calling him when Alexa shambled through the door. Swiftly, Lisbon shut down the laptop and smiled genially at the woman. The woman nodded at her briefly, tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, but only after she had given it a good brushing. Then, she cleaned her teeth, took a long drink of something almost neon colored, Lisbon surmised that this was some kind of energy drink, and it was only then that she took a seat opposite her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry for the delay,” Alexa said, speaking quickly. “You know what it’s like.”
Lisbon didn’t answer. Instead, she merely nodded gently in her direction. Of course, she didn’t know exactly what it was like to work in television. In fact, this had been her first interview. Her father had said that it would hopefully lead to ‘bigger and better’ things. She suspected that he meant famous clientele, her own television show, or preferably, both. But she could live without any of those things. In fact, if it wasn’t for him, she would give up the fake psychic business tomorrow and happily go on and live in obscurity.
“Can you really do this?” the woman continued, staring intently. “You don’t seem the type.”
“How so?” Lisbon asked; covering up the hint of concern in her voice.
“You’re not showy. Ostentatious, not like the other psychics I’ve consulted.”
“I like to get straight to the point,” she explained, hoping that would be enough to sate the woman’s curiosity.
“I think that sounds like it’s for the best. All the other stuff, the scented candles, the drapes, the ominous low voice, I think it’s to hide something,” Alexa glanced over her shoulder, as if she was concerned that somebody was listening into her revelation. “I think they’re faking it, that they’re not real psychics.”
“I couldn’t possibly say…”
In truth, Lisbon agreed with her entirely. Out of all the other people in ‘the business’, she had never once met a true psychic. Like her, they had all used other skills in order to deceive naïve people out of their cash. That didn’t necessarily mean she didn’t believe in the potential of there being somebody gifted with those skills. It just meant that she thought they were incredibly rare, and unlike the charlatans much like herself who paraded their supposed gifts, they kept themselves well-hidden, away from the prying eyes of others.
The reading didn’t take especially long to do. As she promised, she got directly to the crux of the matter and ‘read’ Alexa’s mind, and her husband’s thoughts too. She confirmed the woman’s belief, and after a tearful exchange, she handed over the money, in cash as promised. Before she left, Alexa thanked her effusively for helping to reveal the truth to her. Now that she knew her husband was a liar and a cheat, she was going to hand over those divorce papers, just like the ‘scumbag’ deserved. Apparently, after she had managed to stop crying, she felt liberated and free. She was ready to take control of her life once more.
In a way, Lisbon was almost jealous. For all of her life, she had been under the controlling thumb of somebody else and still, she couldn’t see the way to escape. Maybe one day, she would be able to live life in the way that she wanted to. Maybe, she would have been able to offer her services to Sac P.D. full time or maybe, another one of the law enforcement agencies, if they were more willing to pay. But that all depended on when her father would no longer need her. Lisbon knew, deep down, that that would only happen when he passed on. As she sat in her SUV, she clutched hold of her cross pendant - the one thing of her mother’s that she owned - and offered a silent prayer of forgiveness. She didn’t wish ill of her father, she just wanted to be her own woman for a change.
With a slightly heavy heart, she made her way back to Malibu, where the family lived. She loved living near the sea, and she knew that it was a wonderful place for Eva to grow up. Lisbon appreciated the stability of having a family home; it was a luxury she had never been afforded as a child. Instead, she had been forced to endure living in a cramped caravan with her tyrant father for company. It was little wonder she had turned to God during stressful situations, much to his disgust. Lisbon knew her mother had been a deeply pious woman though, and she hoped that she would have been proud of what she had become. Part of her sincerely doubted that though, and it always made her moral dilemmas feel all the worse.
When she finally pulled up on the drive of the family home, all the lights were off. Lisbon frowned; that was very unlike Andrew. Normally, if she was working late - especially if she hadn’t given him much or any forewarning for it - he insisted upon staying up until she was back home safe. He always claimed that if he didn’t, he worried far too much to be able to sleep at any rate. Therefore, there was no point in even trying. In silence, she killed the engine, slipped out of the car and silently opened the door. Quietly, she made her way through the home, dumping her bag on the couch and then rifled through the mail. When she confirmed there was nothing of interest, she made her way to the kitchen, pushing Eva’s tricycle away as she did so, and then had a drink of water. Had Andrew been up, she may have suggested a cup of tea, or decaffeinated coffee, perhaps. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t around.
She shivered slightly when she started to make her way upstairs. The situation had an innate sense of wrongness about it. Automatically, Lisbon tried to push it to the back of her mind. It was ludicrous; she was being overly concerned and for no justifiable reason. She knew that Eva was still trying to throw off a head cold, and Andrew had probably caught it off of her. He had probably tried to stay up and wait for her, but grown too tired and eventually given up. A smile toyed across her face as she imagined her husband and daughter curled up together in bed.
The smile faltered when she noticed a piece of paper attached to the door of the master bedroom. Nervously, she closed the distance between herself and the door. The piece of paper was folded over once to conceal the contents. On the outside, it simple stated ‘Dear Ms. Lisbon…’ Intrigued, she pulled it off of the door opened it up and began to read.
“Dear Ms. Lisbon,
I do not like to be slandered in the media, especially by a dirty money-grabbing fraud.
If you were a real psychic instead of a dishonest little worm, you wouldn’t need to open the door to see what I’ve done to your dear husband and child.”
It was signed off by an all-too-familiar red smiley face.
With her heart beating uncomfortably in her chest, Lisbon gently pushed open the door. The first thing she saw was another smiley face, this time, painted in blood. Then, she glanced down onto the king size bed she and her husband shared almost every single night.
It was at that moment that her whole world was turned upside down.
To Part Two