Fic: Legendary part 6
part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here, part 4 here, part 5 here
This day has passed slowly. I want to be able to give Teresa her gift. This man, this want-to-be who thinks he has some sort of power over my dear sweet Teresa. This man thinks he is above all others. He lives in his house at the top of a hill, surrounded by men who are paid to protect him, but that would turn aside at the slightest inclination. All of this false security, this man is nothing, he is a pretender. A mock of what makes me great.
It hadn’t taken me long to figure out how to get into this mausoleum of a home. The larger the house, the easier it is to sneak it. He thinks that electronic security will protect him. He thinks a man with a gun at the front gate will prevent someone form coming in the back. This man was not worthy of being even seen in the same place as my dear sweet Teresa. He is not worthy of her admiration or furry. He is nothing. And tonight, tonight I will make sure that the world knows that. And I will remove the thorn of him from my Teresa’s side. Tonight she will have no doubt about my power. I am the one that she will think of at night. I am the one that she will fear and love.
I woke slowly. Yesterday had been a good day. My team had spent the day tracking down old witnesses and police reports to see if anything had come up with the dog angle. And we hadn't found anything yet, but we were still hopeful. I had come back to Jane’s hotel room last night as I still had no desire to go back to my place. There was only one bed, but that didn’t matter. Jane didn’t sleep much and this wasn’t the first time we’d had to share a hotel room with a single bed.
“What type of dog do you think it is that he has?” Jane asked as I stirred and started to sit up in the bed. He had already gotten up and dressed, if he’d even gone to sleep last night. It had been after 1:00 when I had gone to bed, and Jane had still been awake, thinking and writing in his note book.
“I don’t know.” I said, standing. I had borrowed some of Jane’s clothes for sleeping, a pair of gym shorts that probably hadn’t seen the light of day in years, and a white undershirt. “The description that we got from the witnesses point to the same kind of dog. Small, black, bushy. Maybe it’s an unshaved toy poodle.”
Jane laughed as I made my way to the bathroom. I only had one more change of clothes left in my go bag; I was going to have to go back to my place at some point. I showered quickly and dressed. When I came out of the bathroom Jane was no longer in the room. I was slightly annoyed, but didn’t think anything of it. He didn’t owe me a notice that he was leaving his own hotel room, and I had my car here so it wasn’t like I had to rely on him for a ride.
I slowly finished getting ready for work. I wasn’t as harried as I had been before. After deciding that killing my neighbor was just another way for Red John to play with Jane’s mind, and by an extension me and the rest of the team, I had begun to relax. And then with the possibility that Red John might have a dog…I was actually beginning to feel cautiously optimistic. This was the most information we had ever had about him. I had no doubt that Jane was going to spend the day in the attic at the CBI going over his list of people that he had shaken hands with trying to figure out who owned dogs.
But today I didn’t care. Today was going to be a good day. I was sure of it.
I’ve decided that I’m going to stop answering the phone. That shouldn’t be a problem at work because Cho is the one who usually answers the phone. I’m not going to answer the phone because then we won’t get case. We won’t find out that innocent people were killed to fulfill a serial killers sick fantasy. I won’t have to hear the dreaded words “We have to talk”. I won’t find out that my son fell down the stairs, that he is sick, that the day care is closed and there is on one to care for him. He will remain safe in my mind. I can see him after work, I can be with him, and nothing bad will happen with him, or with Sarah, even if she doesn’t want to see me.
And then the phone started to ring. I didn’t want to answer it. It was going to be bad news. It always was. Someone was dead, or someone was missing, or something worse. I looked around the bullpen, hoping that Cho was around, but he wasn’t. He had been just a few minutes ago, maybe he went to the bathroom or to get coffee. Van Pelt isn’t in here either, but I remembered her saying she was going outside for a coffee.
Sighing, I accepted the inevitable and reached over to answer the phone. “Rigsby.”
I listened to the voice on the other end of the line and felt a knot settle into my stomach. I hung up the phone without saying goodbye and sat there, staring at nothing in particular. I was never answering the phone again.
“Hey, Rigsby, what’s wrong?” Van Pelt asked me a few moments later, sitting a coffee cup on her desk.
I shook my head to clear it slightly, if that was even possible, and looked at her. “We just got a call. There’s been another Red John murder.”
“Another one?” She asked, sitting down heavily in her chair.
“Yeah.” I was still in a bit of shock. In all the years I’d been working Red John I’d never seen him kill this close together. It wasn’t like him.
“Who was it? Anyone we know?” I knew that she was hoping that it wouldn’t be. That it would be a random stranger, that the person killed would have no connection to Lisbon so that the balance in our team would be restored. But I didn’t have good news for her.
“Um, yeah.” I took a breath before speaking, not able to look at her or anything in particular. “Tommy Volker.”
part 7 here
This day has passed slowly. I want to be able to give Teresa her gift. This man, this want-to-be who thinks he has some sort of power over my dear sweet Teresa. This man thinks he is above all others. He lives in his house at the top of a hill, surrounded by men who are paid to protect him, but that would turn aside at the slightest inclination. All of this false security, this man is nothing, he is a pretender. A mock of what makes me great.
It hadn’t taken me long to figure out how to get into this mausoleum of a home. The larger the house, the easier it is to sneak it. He thinks that electronic security will protect him. He thinks a man with a gun at the front gate will prevent someone form coming in the back. This man was not worthy of being even seen in the same place as my dear sweet Teresa. He is not worthy of her admiration or furry. He is nothing. And tonight, tonight I will make sure that the world knows that. And I will remove the thorn of him from my Teresa’s side. Tonight she will have no doubt about my power. I am the one that she will think of at night. I am the one that she will fear and love.
I woke slowly. Yesterday had been a good day. My team had spent the day tracking down old witnesses and police reports to see if anything had come up with the dog angle. And we hadn't found anything yet, but we were still hopeful. I had come back to Jane’s hotel room last night as I still had no desire to go back to my place. There was only one bed, but that didn’t matter. Jane didn’t sleep much and this wasn’t the first time we’d had to share a hotel room with a single bed.
“What type of dog do you think it is that he has?” Jane asked as I stirred and started to sit up in the bed. He had already gotten up and dressed, if he’d even gone to sleep last night. It had been after 1:00 when I had gone to bed, and Jane had still been awake, thinking and writing in his note book.
“I don’t know.” I said, standing. I had borrowed some of Jane’s clothes for sleeping, a pair of gym shorts that probably hadn’t seen the light of day in years, and a white undershirt. “The description that we got from the witnesses point to the same kind of dog. Small, black, bushy. Maybe it’s an unshaved toy poodle.”
Jane laughed as I made my way to the bathroom. I only had one more change of clothes left in my go bag; I was going to have to go back to my place at some point. I showered quickly and dressed. When I came out of the bathroom Jane was no longer in the room. I was slightly annoyed, but didn’t think anything of it. He didn’t owe me a notice that he was leaving his own hotel room, and I had my car here so it wasn’t like I had to rely on him for a ride.
I slowly finished getting ready for work. I wasn’t as harried as I had been before. After deciding that killing my neighbor was just another way for Red John to play with Jane’s mind, and by an extension me and the rest of the team, I had begun to relax. And then with the possibility that Red John might have a dog…I was actually beginning to feel cautiously optimistic. This was the most information we had ever had about him. I had no doubt that Jane was going to spend the day in the attic at the CBI going over his list of people that he had shaken hands with trying to figure out who owned dogs.
But today I didn’t care. Today was going to be a good day. I was sure of it.
I’ve decided that I’m going to stop answering the phone. That shouldn’t be a problem at work because Cho is the one who usually answers the phone. I’m not going to answer the phone because then we won’t get case. We won’t find out that innocent people were killed to fulfill a serial killers sick fantasy. I won’t have to hear the dreaded words “We have to talk”. I won’t find out that my son fell down the stairs, that he is sick, that the day care is closed and there is on one to care for him. He will remain safe in my mind. I can see him after work, I can be with him, and nothing bad will happen with him, or with Sarah, even if she doesn’t want to see me.
And then the phone started to ring. I didn’t want to answer it. It was going to be bad news. It always was. Someone was dead, or someone was missing, or something worse. I looked around the bullpen, hoping that Cho was around, but he wasn’t. He had been just a few minutes ago, maybe he went to the bathroom or to get coffee. Van Pelt isn’t in here either, but I remembered her saying she was going outside for a coffee.
Sighing, I accepted the inevitable and reached over to answer the phone. “Rigsby.”
I listened to the voice on the other end of the line and felt a knot settle into my stomach. I hung up the phone without saying goodbye and sat there, staring at nothing in particular. I was never answering the phone again.
“Hey, Rigsby, what’s wrong?” Van Pelt asked me a few moments later, sitting a coffee cup on her desk.
I shook my head to clear it slightly, if that was even possible, and looked at her. “We just got a call. There’s been another Red John murder.”
“Another one?” She asked, sitting down heavily in her chair.
“Yeah.” I was still in a bit of shock. In all the years I’d been working Red John I’d never seen him kill this close together. It wasn’t like him.
“Who was it? Anyone we know?” I knew that she was hoping that it wouldn’t be. That it would be a random stranger, that the person killed would have no connection to Lisbon so that the balance in our team would be restored. But I didn’t have good news for her.
“Um, yeah.” I took a breath before speaking, not able to look at her or anything in particular. “Tommy Volker.”
part 7 here