Her fingernails were carefully painted with her own blood. Blonde hair, which was always washed and brushed, at that moment were hanging loosely without theirold beauty. Young woman lied without her pride, happiness and life. In her arms a body of a little girl was looking for safety. But the red line going through her neck was still wet with blood. The child didn't find the right kind of protection or mother tried to help her before being murdered herself.
The only alive person in that room was a man sitting on the other side. With his back pressed to the wall, the young male was staring blankly at just another not normal thing one could find there – a big smile, drew with blood. The blonde haired man didn't move. He couldn't even blink.
Paralyzed. Punished. Alone. He couldn't hear his door being opened downstairs, as someone entered his house. The stairs were creaking while a police woman climbed them.
'Mrs. Jane?' Lonely question echoed in the house searching for an answer. No response.
First there was a white piece of paper with a cynic text. After that, on the other side of the door the woman saw something she didn't expect. It wasn't a brutal crime – not the most brutal she had ever seen. But the view of a mother and her child lying together killed, their husband and father sitting in front of them and a great sign painted on the wall, to well known for everyone, made sure that Lisbon wouldn't be able to forget it till her last breath. Did she felt guilty for accepting Patrick's Jane assistance and help on the 'Red John' case? No. Jane was a jerk. Egoistic and selfish, with no boundaries. At some point Teresa Lisbon was proud of the man who did this but those thoughts were removed as fast as they came. For the first time she could see Patrick Jane - a normal person with problems and personal tragedies, not the conman.
She squatted in front of him after fruitless check on the victims if there was a chance one of them is still alive. None of them said a word. Lisbon looked at her colleague's face – all in tears and with blue eyes staring but not seeing. She took him to her car and made him wait. For the first time he did what she had asked for. The backup was there almost in minute. Ambulances and police cars surrounded the Jane's house. It was Red John's attack and everyone knew that. Surprising was the fact that he attacked few days before Christmas – when usually even murderers stop their habits.
Lisbon didn't wait for the experts. Nurses and doctors were on their way to dead bodies of murdered Mrs. Jane and Charlotte. Patrick was only her responsibility right now. The policewoman got in to the car and drove her consultant to the hospital.
It was Christmas. Little children sang carols near big malls, waiting for sweets or applause from the street audience. Lampposts where decorated with little lightings, shop exhibition full of spruces and snow, even though in Sacramento it was impossible for them to have that kind of luxury for Christmas.
When Teresa was small, after accident in which her mother died, no one gave her presents on that very special day. She thought that Santa Clause couldn't come, because there wasn't enough snow for his sleeves to slide on back there, in Chicago, even though great machines were working day and night plowing. Now Lisbon knew Santa is no more alive in these days so she didn't have to feel disappointed anymore. No one gave her presents and she didn't give any to the others.
But this year everything was different. Teresa Lisbon was heading towards the well-known house, carrying her bag. She usually didn't have one but today Teresa had something with her – something which she couldn't just carry in her hands.
On Christmas Day most people were sitting at home with their families eating, singing carols and unwrapping presents. Streets were almost empty, silently celebrating the big event. On that day there was no crime to be committed. Lisbon entered the house, firstly knocking on the door. It was a huge mansion with many rooms and fine furniture. A little, pink bicycle was standing on the left, waiting for little Charlotte to ride it again. A bit further, on the right, a wooden rack was waiting for Angela Jane's coat. Everything in here was waiting for the return of two women of Patrick's life. Teresa slipped into the house, looking around for its owner. The CBI consultant was sitting in his armchair near the fireplace. In Sacramento it was, at most the time, really hot so there weren't ever any flames dancing on the old wooden logs.
'Merry Christmas.'
Teresa smiled to herself. He already knew it was her. She approached him and gave a little package, wrapped in a red paper. The green ribbon, guarding what was inside the box, looked really beautiful. Patrick nodded.
'It's nothing big.'
'I can see that,' he smiled widely and pulled something from behind. 'But mine isn't bigger.'
It was the first time she got something since her mother died. The paper wasn't as elegant as hers, but soon she realized that was just a joke. Inside that paper, there was another one with beautiful golden stripes.
Not being really sure if it was nice to open a present in front of somebody, she pulled the ribbon. She was curious about the gift. Her gift was the only thing she could thing about as being useful - a penknife. She did consider buying a set of passkeys but that was against her rules. Besides, it wasn't so hard to get a search warrant. Her box was at first filled with marshmallows, after them a boring film with a card added to it 'For the rest of the Christmas you planned to barricade yourself in your house'. Lisbon wasn't disappointed but from the moment she got her present she wished it would be something more.
'Thanks,' she decided to be happy but it wasn't really easy to pretend.
'Great thing,' Jane raised his present and started examining all functions of the gift he got. Teresa was glad he liked it. Blonde haired man stood und and unruffled his grey sweater. Lisbon could swear it was reserved only for great occasions. Probably her consultant knew she was coming. 'Of course he knew. He always knows.'
A quiet sound of Christmas carols was echoing in the room. If Lisbon was to make a Christmas Day special, it would look just like this – she would only add a white tablecloth and red candles with holly. At that moment everything was perfect for her.
'Would you mind a cup of tea?'
'Absolutely.'
Chicago was very cold at this time, so was in Lisbon's house. Teresa was sitting alone again, drinking another cup of tea. She wasn't in mood for anything stronger. Present from Jane was still untouched since she has entered her house. It was almost dark.
In no time the gift was opened again, Teresa started eating white and pink soft sweets that were covering the probably boring action film. When she got her mouth stuffed with marshmallows it was time to watch the film. Reluctantly she stretched her hand. When she'd pulled out the gift, Lisbon realized that it wasn't the last present Jane gave her. A red box was silently lying between many rose petals. That view took her breath away. With shaking hands she took the bundle and opened it. She still couldn't believe that was happening.
No matter what was in the box Lisbon knew that this Christmas would be way better than any she had ever had.
