The River With a Crimson Current-The Mentalist

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Teresa Lisbon

I've dumped Carla with Rigsby, we should get a few needed answers out of her in interrogation. I decide the next thing to do is save Van Pelt as she'll probably want rescuing from the pessimistic mind of Jane. I wander through the corridors nodding my head at various colleagues as they pass, I'm not in any rush. I throw my bulletproof vest in my office and enjoy the sound of a frustrated voice, more than likely aimed at Jane, as it's for once not coming from me. However, I decide for my own safety to wipe the smirk off my face before either of them can see.

"What've you got?" I ask, walking into the bullpen.

"Oh uh... The palynology results show that the victim was killed at a different location. From the type of pollen, we're guessing somewhere in Central Sacramento," Van Pelt informs me.

"Is it a link to the surgery?"

Jane jumps up from his couch and points a finger at me. "That's what I thought," he says.

Van Pelt turns to him, her eyes squinting, either authoritatively or in fury. "Yeah, but there's nothing to prove that."

"But there's nothing to prove there's not."

"Guys, please!" I cut in. "Dig further. See what you get. Anything else from forensics?"

"Only the fact that he was killed before Michaels," she says with a grin of achievement.

"So... There's still a chance that it could be a serial killer?"

"Yes. But highly unlikely. Daniel was strangled and there's ligature marks around his wrists and feet, probably to make it easier to transport the body from the murder scene to the lake."

"That's another thing, do we know how he got out there?"

"More than likely by boat... But, this is the weird thing... We've run checks on all the possible ones, and they've all come out clean. The killer must either have used a small rowing boat, in which case, who knows where it is now. Or used another method to transport the body out there."

"He hardly swam," I grumble sarcastically.

"Lisbon! Would you like to join me on a drive down to Central Sacramento?" Jane offers.

"Yes, I think Van Pelt needs peace."

She glances over to me and serenity washes over her face.

"I'll get onto background searches and'll look further into Daniel," she says.

"'Kay, let me know if you get a break in the case."

"Sure thing Boss."

She sits down behind her desk as Jane taps my arm. "Right, you, with me," he motions towards the elevator.

I indicate to go down the road leading to the doctor's clinic.

"You seem pretty certain about this," I say to him.

"Think about it Lisbon. Two murders, both of which are linked to a Benito. You've gained suspicions on Carla that just happens to work at the surgery where our first victim was also employed, and our second victim was reportedly in this area at his time of death. Chances are, he was here."

"Chance Jane. You're only going on chance. This is another of your hunches isn't it?"

"And are my hunches usually right?"

"Yes, but that's not the point. They're not always."

"Yes buts. Honestly Lisbon, have a little faith and take risks."

"I'll need faith if I'm taking risks with you..." I mutter.

He glances at me telling me that that last comment was not missed but simply lets it slide. "We're looking for some sign that Daniel's killer was here. Perhaps string or wire to tie him up."

"Yes, I know Jane. I'm a detective too."

"So you are..."

I swing into a space and we jump out into the parking lot. "Let's go Sherlock," he grins at me... An emotion I haven't seen much of recently. I head to the reception desk inside and am greeted with a stand-in for Carla.

"Hi... We just need to undertake an investigation in your parking lot. Unless we find anything, there'll be no disruption caused," I say, showing my insignia.

"... Yes. That's fine. Anything we can do to help," she replies. I nod and go back out to Jane, hoping he's not got himself into trouble during my absence.

I go through the doorway and see him stood twiddling something in his hands. As I get closer I realise it's a piece of paper.

"What's that?.." I ask him suspiciously.

"This, my friend, is a receipt for a bunch of beautiful red roses."

"Why did you buy roses?.."

"I didn't... But the killer did."

I take a step back, my eyebrows knitting together, I don't know whether I'm astounded or curious... "What? No," I say in denial.

"I think we need to see those patients we didn't get to visit."

"You think it was one of them?"

"Peter Brinston's my best bet."

"He had an appointment the night before the murder, that'd be a good starting place."

I don't want to satisfy him by saying he's probably right.