The River With a Crimson Current-The Mentalist

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Five

Teresa Lisbon

I pull up outside the Davies' house where Jane had called for backup. He claimed it was nothing to worry about, but I still tried to get here as soon as. I walk down the garden path and straight through the open front door, my fingers tracing the safety trigger on my gun. To my right there's Sam slumped on the floor with his arm limply hanging above his head, handcuffed to the radiator. I try to assemble a sentence but words aren't very forthcoming so I simply give him a frown and start searching the house for someone.

"Lisbon," Jane greets as I enter the lounge. "Take this man to interrogation," he nods towards Sam, mimicking a voice of importance.

I give him a look of dissatisfaction.

"You want to bring me up to date?"

"Grace is with Milly as we speak and I believe Cho and Rigsby are currently hunting down the hit men. Am I correct?"

"We're bringing them in and charging them for offences that they've managed to gather over the past four years."

"Hm, yes... Good catch..." He says, busy focusing on Davies who's sat behind me. When his eyes dart across to the other side of the threshold I turn around to see Van Pelt and Milly making their way towards the front door. When Sam looks up Van Pelt turns her body inward acting as a shield between the father and daughter then carefully pulls Milly closer to her chest.

"I'm gonna hitch a ride back with you," Jane murmurs into my ear as he follows the ladies down the front path. Great. I walk in front of Sam then realise I don't have a set of keys for the handcuffs.

"Ja-" I begin to shout but he turns around and grins at me.

"Check your pockets," he shouts and continues to the car. I slip my hand into my jacket pockets and then my trousers. Sure enough my fingers brush over the cool metal key which I remove and undo the handcuff around the radiator.

"Up," I order, signalling for him to stand. When he does I quickly fasten the ring onto his other wrist and march him down the front path. When we reach the car door I open it and practically shove him into the seat, not bothering to protect his head. If he has the guts to rape a child then he has the guts to deal with me, not to mention the rest of my team.

When we reach CBI Rigsby thankfully comes out to meet us, meaning I don't have to lay another finger on the grubby man. Jane clearly reads me perfectly and can tell my discomfort.

"Come on Lisbon, you work around murderers for a living," he says, attempting to lighten the situation.

"Jane, he sexually abused his daughter. His fourteen year old daughter. Tell me how that is better?"

"You-you're right... It isn't any better. But you know, you get to visibly see how you've made a difference?"

I walk into the elevator and he tags along behind me, pressing the button for our floor.

"Sure, I guess. That still doesn't make me feel any better about the subject though."

"Well, I don't think anything can do that..."

"No, I suppose not."

After a few seconds the doors ping open and we both stride out, glad the conversation is over, even if there are different reasons as to why we both dislike the topic.

Sometimes I'm surprised at how little Jane does know about me. My past is something which we both know is out of bounds, as is his most of the time. But it's moments like these that I am shocked nothing is brought up, especially from his half. A subtle hint or a sentence with a hidden meaning, something that implies that he knows. Usually I'm grateful to God, helping me with my poker face, but sometimes I wish, just for a heartbeat, that he knew more. That he knew about the flickering memories and dancing faces. The pain tattooed onto my skin, the slurred words that chase me round my head. But then it's gone; the need to confide in someone and hide deep within them. Gone. Because of my father. The one that had embedded his pleasure inside the barriers I'd built under my outer layer. Until Jane had stumbled out of that elevator on the very first day, my barrier had formed as another body within mine. But now it's simply a garden fence; low enough for anyone to jump over. Including the nosy next door neighbour, Patrick Jane.

He'll figure it out one day, if not already. After all, he did con people into telling his inner psychic about their darkest secrets or worries. No doubt I'll get fooled into doing it too.