FIC: Acrimonious (14/21)
Title: Acrimonious
Author:
sirenofodysseus
Disclaimer: …it’s probably better that Bruno Heller owns The Mentalist, really.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: After FBI Agent Susan Darcy is overheard telling Special-Agent-in-Charge Luther Wainwright that Patrick Jane may be working with Red John, Red John steals Jane’s body and begins to destroy the team’s lives one-by-one.
Spoilers: Brief spoiler for Crimson Hat (4x24), but the rest of this story is set after Something Rotten in Redmund (4x20).
Warnings: Violence, language, drug use, sex, non-con situations, mentions of child abuse/domestic abuse, negative character portrayals, major and minor character death.
Pairings: Red John/Teresa Lisbon, Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon, Wayne Rigsby/Sarah Harrigan, Kimball Cho/Summer Edgecombe.
14-
Lisbon heard Wainwright’s fingers tap against his laptop keyboard, as the Special-Agent-in-Charge remained seated at the small silver table in her office. He had his attention completely focused on whatever he was doing and Lisbon pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers at the irritating sound. Her head ached, she was beyond exhausted from a lack of sleep and Wainwright’s continuous presence wasn’t helping calm her nerves either.
She tried to ignore him and the reason he was there, but her mind refused to cooperate with her. Jane, her best friend and the man she had slowly come to trust, was missing and he had been gone for almost two weeks now. Wainwright had temporarily relocated himself into her office to help them all out, until the bureau could find someone to replace Cho or Jane returned to work.
“Headache, Agent Lisbon?” Wainwright’s voice caused Lisbon to release her nose and glance at her boss, who stared at her over the screen of his laptop.
“I’m fine, sir.” Lisbon lied. The last thing she needed-or wanted-was for Wainwright to send her home, especially when she worried about Jane and where he was. His disappearance hadn’t sent up any red flags and as far as they all knew, Jane had just decided to take some time off again without informing any of them of where he would be spending the next week or so. Bertram and Wainwright hadn’t seemed too concerned about the lack of consultant and Brenda Shettrick hadn’t asked any of them for a statement yet, but then again, they didn’t know him like she did. Aside from her, the team and Red John, Jane had no one else in his life and the idea that he would leave all of that willingly behind just made no logical sense. “This report is giving me minor problems.”
Wainwright didn’t seem too convinced, but she didn’t care. In the past few weeks, the young boss had already proved himself more of a nuisance than anything else had; he had absolutely no field skills, which she had quickly noticed after Wainwright had worked with them on a case in the absence of Van Pelt, who had taken three days in a row off work last week.
Lisbon heard him go back to work, before she sighed under her breath. It had been a while since she had heard Jane’s voice or had felt his fingers touch against her body and as much as she hated to admit it, she really did miss Jane. She missed the man, who against all of the odds, she had slowly come to love over years of bickering, facing demons and crime solving that she couldn’t help but feel, deep down, that something bad had happened to him.
She glanced back down at her computer screen and frowned. She honestly wanted to believe that everything was okay with Jane and that Bertram’s words were right, but she just couldn’t; in the nine years that they had both been hunting after Red John, Jane had never taken a “vacation” and she doubted he was going to start now.
The loud sound of a cell phone going off interrupted her train of thought and she glanced around for her phone.
“It’s mine.” Wainwright informed her and she lifted her cold cup of coffee from her desk, as she watched him hurry from her office to answer his cell phone in private. Alone, she popped two of the aspirins stashed in the top drawer of her desk into her mouth and washed them both down with a swig of her cold coffee.
If I’m going to deal with him for another six hours, she thought bitterly, I’m not doing it without aspirins.
It had been a quiet day so far and Lisbon hoped it would stay that way, as she set her coffee mug back down; she had finished all of her paperwork, before she had checked on Van Pelt and Rigsby, who had both seemed fine with all of the extra paperwork that they both had collected from Cho’s pile. Even with Van Pelt back from her sick leave and Wainwright “lending” a hand, the Serious Crimes Unit was still majorly understaffed.
“Agent Lisbon.” Wainwright spoke again, after he had reentered her office. The frown on his face paired with the seriousness in her voice put her on edge. Had something bad happened? She felt her heart beat quicken within her chest. Had someone found Jane? “We’re up. You will want to bring your team along, Agent.” He said nothing else to her as she watched him step over to his discarded laptop and close it with one hand before he picked it up from the small table and left the room again.
Lisbon stood from her desk chair, not wanting to waste time, before she hurried from her office. The short walk from her office into the somewhat crowded bullpen had only taken a few seconds and after a few short nods to the working individuals around her, Lisbon stepped past them until she stood halfway between Rigsby’s and Van Pelt’s desks.
She cleared her throat to gain their undivided attention and Rigsby glanced up at her, an ink pen in his hand. “Boss?”
“We have a case.” Lisbon told him. Rigsby nodded and she watched him stand from his desk chair, before she turned on her heels and glanced at Van Pelt. Van Pelt had her complete attention on her darkened computer screen and Lisbon placed her hand on the Junior Agent’s shoulder. She felt Van Pelt jump at her touch, which aggravated her. Van Pelt wasn’t being paid to daydream, she was being paid to solve murders and follow directions. “What are you waiting for, Van Pelt? Hell to freeze over?”
Van Pelt slowly turned in her desk chair; the young woman had her hands clenched into tight fists against her stomach and her eyes went from the computer to the floor. Van Pelt, Lisbon quickly noticed, still looked a little under the weather. The redhead wore a deep purple long-sleeved turtleneck sweater, while her fists trembled slightly. After a moment of silence, Van Pelt glanced up at her and Lisbon blinked at the sight before her: dark circles, a deathly pale complexion and bloodshot eyes.
Lisbon rolled her eyes and Van Pelt glanced back down at the floor.
“Move it, Van Pelt.” Lisbon ordered. “Or I will send your ass home, permanently.” Usually, she had more patience to deal with the little things. But with Jane and Cho gone, a massive headache on the horizon and the bureau breathing down her neck, she couldn’t handle anything more. Lisbon crossed her arms against her chest as she watched Van Pelt start to move from her chair, but it wasn’t fast enough and Lisbon sneered.
“If you wanted to sit on your ass all day,” Lisbon threw, “you should have become a receptionist. This is real work, Van Pelt.” Van Pelt said nothing and Lisbon gritted her teeth together. “If you want to sit behind a desk and look pretty, go right ahead, but make sure that when you do get that receptionist job; you wear a low-cut shirt and an even shorter skirt.” Van Pelt had almost pulled herself out of the chair, when Lisbon continued. “Try to not sleep with your new co-workers either, Van Pelt, it might ruin your already fabulous reputation.”
With those words, Lisbon gave up on Van Pelt and stormed out of the bullpen in anger.
If she had wanted to laze around and do nothing, Lisbon thought as she pushed the doors to the flight of steps open, she should have called off work. I don’t have time for her right now, as I have a case to solve.
Lisbon slammed her car door shut, before she crossed the county line from Sacramento and into Amador with Rigsby and Wainwright following behind. Rigsby hadn’t said anything to her from the moment that they had all left the CBI parking lot, which had irritated her even more. She knew he still harbored feelings for Van Pelt, even with Sarah and Benjamin in his life, but the cold shoulder wasn’t going to do anything aside from annoy the hell out of her.
The unusually bright sunlight from the dry surroundings of Amador County made her wish that she had brought along a pair of sunglasses, as from the looks of the cop cars on the side of the road, she had a feeling that they would be out there for a long while.
“You the CBI?” Came a gruff voice from behind them and she turned on her heels to find a thin strawberry-blonde haired female, who had her arms crossed against her white jacketed chest. The woman didn’t look too pleased to see them, but then again, if she belonged with the Amador County Police Department-her rude behavior made total sense, especially as the officers within Amador were had always been too proud to take the help offered to them by the CBI.
“Yes, we are.” Wainwright replied, before Lisbon had the chance to say anything. “I’m Agent Luther Wainwright.” Wainwright gestured toward himself and then, to Rigsby. “This is Agent Wayne Rigsby.” Lastly, Wainwright gestured toward her. “And this is Agent Teresa Lisbon.” The woman nodded. “Who are you?”
“I’m Amador’s Police Chief Vanessa Moore.” Moore introduced herself and Wainwright stuck his hand out toward her, which the strawberry-blonde ignored. “You must be the agent I talked too earlier?”
“I am.” Wainwright replied as he retracted his hand with a smile and Lisbon refrained from rolling her eyes. Wainwright knew how to do paperwork, not how to deal with hostile officers from other police departments and petty jurisdiction squabbles. “What do you have for us, Chief Moore?”
Moore motioned for them to follow her and Lisbon watched the thirty-something police chief shove her hands into the pockets of her white jacket, before she started down the long stretch of rural road.
“Firstly.” Moore spoke again. Lisbon caught the arrogant tone in Moore’s voice and she braced herself to jump into the conversation, as the last thing any of them needed was an argument to break out between the CBI and Amador PD. “Having you all here wasn’t my idea. It was on the advice of my head detective, who noticed the M.O. right away.”
“What M.O.?” Lisbon asked as Moore brought them to a guard rail on the side of the road, which they all stepped over at her silent request. Moore said nothing else as she led them down the steep and grassy embankment. It was only when Lisbon had spotted the rear of a light brown jeep and the towering tree that had smashed the vehicle in its tracks, did Moore turn around and face them.
“A troop of girl scouts found the vehicle this morning.” Moore stated, instead of answering Lisbon’s question. “No bodies, keys still in the ignition and the battery within the car had been completely drained.” Lisbon furrowed her brows in confusion. If there wasn’t an active crime scene, why were they there? She glanced at Wainwright, who avoided her gaze. “I sent my Junior Detective and my Head Detective out to investigate, when they found the dried blood within the vehicle.” Moore said nothing else and Lisbon nodded; dried blood didn’t necessarily mean that somebody was dead; it could have just meant that somebody was injured from the car crash.
“Do you know who the vehicle belongs to?”
Moore shook her head. “The glove compartment was empty, Agent Lisbon. We haven’t been able to run the plates yet, but we will. The blood will be a little harder to run though.” Lisbon opened her mouth to ask why, when Moore continued on. “My Junior Detective believed that two people were in the vehicle; the amount of blood splatter between the driver, passenger and backseats confirm it.”
“Is it possible that the car crash could have caused any of the blood splattering within the vehicle?” Lisbon questioned and she saw Moore raise her eyebrows in Wainwright’s direction.
“You didn’t tell them, Agent Wainwright?” Moore questioned. Wainwright said nothing, as Moore smirked slightly. “I thought the CBI shared everything; I guess not.” Lisbon rolled her eyes in irritation. “Well, Agent Lisbon.” Moore replied with a dark chuckle. “Unless a tree can somehow cause a bloody smiley symbol, I…”
Lisbon didn’t hear the rest of whatever Moore had to say, as she sprinted past the woman with her heart pounding in her chest. Jane drove a little blue vehicle; she tried to remind herself, not a jeep. Jane doesn’t own a jeep.
She shoved past the countless detectives and the uniformed officers, who lingered in her way of reaching the vehicle. She had to see inside the vehicle and she had to know that Red John hadn’t done anything to Jane.
“Let her through.” Moore’s voice powered through the crowd and Lisbon was suddenly met with less of resistance.
Lisbon said nothing, as she leaned into the vehicle and glanced around the interior; the white cloth driver and passenger seats had both been splattered with enough blood to suggest that a car accident hadn’t been the cause for most of it.
Almost nervously, she glanced toward the backseat of the vehicle through the rearview mirror. On the white fabric of the backseat, Red John had taken the time to decorate an entire mural of his own smiley faces all of them seemed to be winking at her. Her breath caught in her thought as she glanced around for a body, just in case Red John had stashed one away somewhere, but she couldn’t find anything and her heart skipped a beat.
If it had been Jane, Red John would have left his body for us to find. A smile slowly spread across her face, as relief flooded through her again. If it had been Jane, Red John would let us know. It’s not Jane, kept running through her head, it’s not him. He’s safe. He’s okay. Red John doesn’t have him.
“Boss?” She heard Rigsby’s voice from behind her and she wiped the smile off her face, before she turned to face him.
“What Rigsby?”
“I know who owns this car.” Rigsby answered her with a frown.
“Who owns it?” Lisbon asked, trying to keep from smiling. If Rigsby knew exactly who owned the vehicle, they could all solve the loose ends and she could go back to wait for Jane.
“Grace does, boss.” Rigsby finally gave and Lisbon blinked.
“It can’t be.” She denied, immediately. Van Pelt, except for three days last week, had been showing up and leaving work on time. “If she was in a car accident, Rigsby, I think I would…”
“The rear plate on the vehicle reads Iowa, boss.” Rigsby interrupted. “Grace has never changed her plates over from Iowa to California.” She watched him lift his hand to the back of his neck and rub. “I was also there when she bought the vehicle. She doesn’t keep the registration papers in the glove compartment; she keeps them tucked away in her sun visor.” Rigsby stepped closer to the jeep and with his gloved hands; he flipped down the sun visor on the driver’s side to reveal a bunch of papers. Lisbon accepted them from Rigsby, before she scanned each registration document with her eyes and found Van Pelt’s name printed on almost every page.
“Agent Wainwright!” Lisbon called the Special-Agent-in-Charge over, while she shoved the papers into her pocket. She knew Wainwright would eventually uncover who owned the vehicle, but she needed to speak with Van Pelt before he did. She said nothing else, until Wainwright stood across from her. “I need you to take point for an hour or so. Something has suddenly come up that needs my immediate attention.”
“Of course, Agent Lisbon.” Wainwright agreed and she let out the breath that she had been holding. “Do you need Agent Rigsby?” Without even glancing at Rigsby, who stood behind Wainwright with his arms crossed against his chest, Lisbon shook her head.
Rigsby would stall Wainwright and the Amador Police Department long enough, she hoped, to where she could get an answer from Van Pelt on why her car was in the middle of nowhere and why hadn’t reported her vehicle stolen.
She only hoped Van Pelt’s answer didn’t come down to her being another one of Red John’s moles, as she didn’t know if she would be able to control herself from attacking the only person who knew where and who Red John truly was.
Lisbon motioned for Van Pelt to sit down on her white couch, before she pulled up a chair and waited for the younger agent to make herself comfortable. Van Pelt stared down at the floor and Lisbon knew if she wanted anything from the woman, patience was the key.
Unfortunately for them both, she didn’t have the current luxury of patience when it came to getting information.
“I’m sorry I haven’t cleared out my desk yet, boss.” Lisbon heard Van Pelt say quietly. She blinked in surprise at her agent’s words. Had Van Pelt taken her earlier words to heart? She had been highly annoyed with Van Pelt’s seemingly lazy behavior and although her comments may have been harsh, Lisbon had thought that Van Pelt knew she wouldn’t get rid of her for something like that.
“Don’t worry about it.” Lisbon replied with the wave of her hand. “I’m not firing you.” Van Pelt lifted her head from the floor and Lisbon tried to smile to show that she was being serious, but Van Pelt only seemed to sink back into the white couch cushions. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, ma’am.” Van Pelt lied. Lisbon held herself back from jumping onto the obvious lie, as the woman’s cheeks had been decorated with a running trail of mascara earlier. Van Pelt probably thought she was covering her tracks, but Lisbon had known the youngest member of her team for five years and Van Pelt had never been a great liar. Honest eyes apparently gave them both away and sometimes, Lisbon was thankful for it. “Is Rigsby and Wainwright still…” She silenced Van Pelt with a quick look, before the young woman glanced back down at the woodwork of the floor. Lisbon frowned. Van Pelt’s silence and odd behavior unnerved her; the redhead was the bubbly and optimistic face amongst them all and for her to be so quiet and still meant something was definitely wrong.
Whatever is bothering her, Lisbon thought, it’s definitely not illness related.
Lisbon fiddled with the cross around her neck. She almost kicked herself for not noticing anything off earlier, especially when Van Pelt hadn’t even tried to defend herself against the hoard of insults. With her eyes still on Van Pelt, Lisbon didn’t exactly want to think in what if’s when it came to any of her employees, but it when it came to Red John and who they all could and who they all couldn’t trust…Lisbon felt as if the what if’s were the only things that would save her life and the life of the individuals on her team.
Van Pelt shifted and Lisbon wondered if the agent’s illness had been a byproduct of a combination of things or if the illness had been brought as an order for Red John. Either way, she knew she had to find out.
“Where’s your vehicle, Van Pelt?” Lisbon asked and she watched Van Pelt tense, which put her on high alert. If Van Pelt had nothing (or no one) to fear, why in the world would the woman tense?
“It’s in the parking lot, boss.”
Lisbon gritted her teeth to stay calm. Patience, she reminded herself. Yelling would get them nowhere. “Where at in the parking lot, Van Pelt?”
“In the parking lot.” Van Pelt repeated. Lisbon pulled the registration papers from her pocket and tossed them to Van Pelt, who briefly glanced down at them and then away again. “Where did you get those?”
“Where is your car?” Lisbon dodged Van Pelt’s question with one of her own. Van Pelt said nothing and Lisbon tapped her foot against the floor in impatience. “And don’t continue to insult my intelligence by lying, Grace. Where is your car?”
“It’s in the side parking lot, boss.” Van Pelt sounded on the verge of tears. She’d probably hate herself for this later, but it had to be done.
“If you don’t tell me the truth,” Lisbon said after she had cleared her throat and had gained Van Pelt’s attention. “I’ll have you arrested for the obstruction of justice, Van Pelt. If you don’t tell me, Wainwright wants to question you later, I will let him bring up charges.” She watched Van Pelt’s reaction to her bait; the woman’s head shot up and her brown eyes grew wide, as if she were scared at the threat. “Do you know what they…”
“My car was stolen, boss.” Van Pelt answered, finally. “I don’t know where it is.”
“I know.” Lisbon softly replied. Van Pelt blinked and she continued on. “We found your vehicle wrapped around a tree in Amador County.”
A brief flicker of awareness crossed Van Pelt’s face. “Our current…?”
“Yes, Van Pelt. The current case.” Van Pelt grew quiet. “Why didn’t you report your car stolen?” She gained no response again. “Van Pelt, why didn’t you?”
“I had no idea it was taken from me until the next morning, boss.” Van Pelt explained as she bit her lip. “I was sick and Jane offered to take me home and…”
“Jane?” Lisbon repeated. Van Pelt slowly nodded and the bad feeling that had gone away with not finding Jane’s body spread through her body. No one-except Van Pelt, who had apparently allowed for Jane to take her home-had seen Jane past seven o’clock the night he had disappeared without a trace. “Do you remember what time he took you home?”
“I don’t remember.” Van Pelt said. “I was sick. That’s all I know.” Lisbon watched Van Pelt’s eyes dart toward the exit of her office briefly, as if she were looking for an escape and Lisbon wondered if the woman knew more than she was letting on. She had acted sad-almost surprised-when Lisbon had informed of Jane’s disappearance, but it didn’t mean that Van Pelt wasn’t an excellent actress.
“You’re the last person who saw Jane, Van Pelt.” Lisbon told her. Van Pelt’s shoulders dropped slightly and Lisbon wondered what she was missing, but she pushed the feeling aside to concentrate on Jane’s disappearance. “Did he say anything to you?”
“It was all a blur.”
Lisbon studied Van Pelt for a moment; the deathly pale woman trembled slightly and she had her hands pressed against her stomach, yet she didn’t have the expression that had signaled her as a liar to Lisbon earlier. “Who do you think did this to you, Van Pelt?”
“I don’t know.” Van Pelt stated, before she brought her hands from her stomach and crossed her arms against her chest. Lisbon took a moment to recollect her thoughts; what had exactly happened from the moment that Jane had offered to take Van Pelt home to the moment where he had left them all without a word. Red John had clearly been involved in the theft of Van Pelt’s vehicle-the smiley face on the backseat had told her that much-which meant that the serial killer had most likely had a hand in Jane’s so-called disappearance, as well. Lisbon stared at Van Pelt, unsure of how to proceed; Jane would have demanded that they pounce on her as her behavior-the shiftiness, the silence and the jumpiness-signaled that she obviously knew more than she was letting on. She, on the other hand, didn’t think Van Pelt was hiding anything related to Red John.
You don’t know that, Lisbon heard Jane’s voice in her head, Red John is everywhere.
The voice in her head had a valid point; Red John was everywhere and she would be a fool not to press forward.
“It was most likely Red John who stole your vehicle, Van Pelt.” Lisbon watched closely for a reaction of any kind to see if the young agent had been working for Red John, but aside from the tilt of her head and the slight rocking motion of her body, she gleamed nothing. “We found his smiley in your car, Grace. Jane’s gone. Did Red John do this?” Silence met her again and Lisbon stood from her chair. “Grace? Did Red John do this to you?” She lowered her voice and took a step closer, hoping not to scare Van Pelt. Red John’s moles didn’t scare easily, but she needed to know. “Did Red John take Jane?”
Van Pelt said nothing for a few moments; her body still shook, as she rocked herself back and forth and Lisbon wondered how much of it was an act. Lisbon bent down to Van Pelt’s eye level and opened her mouth to say something, when Van Pelt spoke instead. “No, ma’am. I don’t remember. I really don’t.” Lisbon didn’t know what to believe; she trusted her agent, but she still felt that something was wrong about this entire situation. “Can I leave now? Please?”
She stared at her agent, who seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown, before she nodded. Van Pelt threw herself off the couch; her hands back against her stomach, as she limped away. Lisbon watched her leave and in the end, she couldn’t help but fear for the worst and at the same time have hope that the blood within the smiley face had been Van Pelt’s and not Jane’s.
--
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five 1/2 - Part Five 2/2 - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine 1/2 - Part Nine 2/2 - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fifteen - Part Sixteen 1/2 - Part Sixteen 2/2 - Part Seventeen - Part Eighteen - Part Nineteen - Part Twenty 1/2 - Part Twenty 2/2 - Part Twenty-One