Chapter Five: Envy
Most people would think that Patrick Jane was envious of those happy families, those whole families who still had the chance to revel in the presence of one another. And sometimes he was. But now, after all these years, he had the presence of mind to feel happiness for them. To hope that they realized how lucky they were.
Most of them didn't.
And Jane knew that some people thought he was envious of some of the criminals—murderers—that they caught. The ones who committed crimes in revenge. The ones who had the chance to seek vengeance. The ones who were successful in that venture.
And at first he thought he was. But after watching so many of them go through it, he was wondering if it was what he wanted. What he needed. Oh, he would still have justice. No mistake about that. But did he want to do it in a way that would ruin his life? Did he want to help Red John pound that final nail into his coffin?
He still didn't have an answer to those questions and he figured that was why he was no longer envious of those criminals when they sat in the chair across from him, the harsh light of the interrogation room glinting off their broken eyes.
Yes, Jane thought he knew what envy was. Watching a little blond girl at the park run up to her father, tugging his hand to drag him to the swings. Brightly lit Christmas trees in windows. Clumsily carved jack-o-lanterns lining the porches of suburbia.
He knew that envy well.
But as he watched a small town sheriff make a play for Lisbon, he realized that he could still feel a very different kind of envy. To Jane's surprise, Lisbon smiled back. Distantly, the consultant took note of the attractive (to a woman, at least) slant of the man's shoulders and the tousled brown hair.
That was when he realized that this new envy could intensify.
And he had no idea what to do about it.