3 Month Leave | the MENTALIST

MONTH 2 : pt IV

"Hey," Ronnie cocked a hip curiously. "I didn't realize we had an interview today."

On the other side of the door, Derek Morgan spread his hands sheepishly with a gleaming smile. "We don't. Call me Witness Protection. Can I come in?"

She stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. "That's great, but this apartment is rented by two cops already. Call me crazy, but I think adding another one to the pile might make it a little crowded in here."

He took her words with a good humored chuckle. "Don't worry, I'm not staying over. My days of sleeping on the floor are long over. Look, the truth is, after we found out that Peter Lewis is showing interest in you, our director is anxious about your safety. I just want to take a look at your security."

Ronnie waved a hand acquiescently. "Have at it. My partner has already covered it, but I'm happy to put your boss at ease."

Derek began examining the apartment. "I noticed in your file that you have eight firearms registered in your name."

She returned to her seat at her computer. "I believe in an accessory for every occasion."

His light chuckle reached her ears. "Seems like a few of your purchases immediately coincide with incidents involving Carla. For that, I don't blame you."

"Anything for a bit of peace of mind." Ronnie tossed him a smile. "You'll notice my record since being rescued from Carla is impeccable." He didn't need to know about the concerning event where she'd shot Cho.

Derek resumed his perusal of her home and then joined her at the kitchen table. "Here's my number." He pushed a business card towards her. "I'm going to send you some listings for some home security systems that I like. You know—for a little more peace of mind."

"Thanks," She reached for the card. "Any updates on Arlov yet?"

Agent Morgan folded his hands in front of him. "He's surfaced and disappeared a few times in Russia. Interpol suggests he's on his way back to California. We'll find him before he finds you."

He sounded sure of himself, but Ronnie couldn't believe him. She knew how resourceful Arlov was, how capable he was of getting to unreachable people. "I need him caught." She wasn't brave enough to meet Derek's eyes. "I need him rotting. In a grave or in prison, I don't care which."

His hand covered her wrist and she flinched. "I will make sure he does. Promise me you'll let me handle him, alright?"

She gave a nervous laugh. "I don't really know you."

His charming smile and twinkling eyes caught her off guard. "I know how we can fix that." After sharing a moment of awkward laughter, he sobered and took his hand back. "We will deal with Arlov, Veronica, I swear."

"Ronnie." She actually felt a little better. He certainly had a way with sincerity.

"Ronnie," Derek corrected himself. "Arlov will be gone soon."

the MENTALIST

A single pair of jeans had wrecked her already fragile state of mind. Three months prior, that pair of jeans had fit her better than anything in her closet. The way it clung to the contours of her quads and hamstrings had flattered her physique in ways that had made her comfortable and confident.

Now, it was the softness of her legs and hips that filled out the pants, and she could only stare at her reflection in abject horror.

Ronnie ripped off the pants and chucked them across the room. She'd lounged around enough. Sitting around, eating junk food, doing virtually no exercise, and now she couldn't fit into her favorite jeans. Enough was enough.