Ronnie Masters | the MENTALIST (COMPLETE)

PILOT : pt II

Rigsby finished up at Price Randolph's home and took off fairly quickly to submit the findings to a report. He'd been itching to leave since they entered the house where Red John may have reappeared, and it took little suggestion to get him to agree to doing the paperwork subsequent to the interview.

In accordance to their findings, Price Randolph didn't seem remarkably guilty, even if he did pose a remarkably irritating presence. Still, he would remain under suspicion.

Ronnie and Cho left the home in the second rented vehicle, rolling the windows down and enjoying the summer air flying past at sixty.

Ronnie settled into the vinyl bucket seat with a soft sigh, rolling up her shirt sleeves and taking down two buttons from her restricting collar. Not long after being recruited for the CBI, she'd learned that being on the road provided the only place of true comfort and happiness. Never stuck in one place, always a new view to see, and if it ever got stuffy, she could always roll down a window.

Her soul took flight a little, sitting there beside Cho.

It went without saying that being on the road with Rigsby had no such affect and actually quite ruined the experience for her.

Setting one elbow up on the sill, she shot a look over at her field partner. Cho had ditched the jacket, tossing it in the back seat, and was left in a short sleeve button-up and tie, looking remarkably more like himself than he had that morning. He had one hand up on the wheel, braced on the window sill, the other one resting easily in his lap.

They took the drive in silence, both their minds fixed diligently on the case. Having two bodies always added a whole slew of new possibilities to motive. Maybe the second person was intentional, maybe they were an accident, maybe they were a distraction, maybe they were unaccounted for in the original plan.

That detail stuck in Ronnie's mind more than anything. If Red John killed the victims, why kill the guy if he wasn't romantically involved with the woman? Usually the murder came of jealousy of some sort, but the victims weren't having an affair. It just didn't make sense that Red John would kill anyone except for a deliberately intended target, and his MO had been females to that point.

In her unprofessional opinion, she felt comfortable pinning the blame on the jerkish husband.

Ronnie rubbed a hand over her face thoughtfully. Her job at the CBI put her most often in the position of being an extra man for firepower or leg work, and her brainpower was rarely called upon. She preferred it that way, but that didn't mean she didn't try to puzzle through their cases as they came along.

"I wish I had Jane's brain," she muttered when they pulled up to the sheriff's office.

Cho rolled up the windows and unbuckled his seatbelt. "No you don't." He got out of the car, meeting her eyes over the roof. "He's brilliant but he gets punched more than anyone."

She blinked at him. Neither of them could deny that she didn't have the disposition, nor the job, to make friends as it stood. In fact, her job largely entailed getting punched.

He realized what had her hung up and he turned away, waving his hand at her dismissively. "You don't want his brain. Trust me."

That night, the serious crimes unit sat around a large table stacked high with lobster.

Ronnie sat next to Cho, silently chewing away.

"I like the husband for it. He hires some hooker he knows to create an alibi, flies home, fillets the spouse, flies back again. It's a classic, elaborate and clever, but ultimately stupid, plan." Cho suggested, busily working his lobster fork.