The: Mentalist

“Lovely tie, Mr. Henderson,” Jane remarked, leaning in close. “Silk? Or a desperate attempt to feel sophisticated while you’re drowning in debt?” Henderson paled. “I—pardon me?”

As they drove away, Jane leaned back and closed his eyes. The case was solved, another small victory in a life defined by the one killer he couldn’t outsmart— Red John . For now, the small wins would have to be enough. The Mentalist

“Jane, get up,” barked, tossing a file onto his chest. “New case. High-end art heist turned messy in Sacramento.” “Lovely tie, Mr