The Mentalist Link

Jane didn’t move. He just smiled, that annoying, knowing grin. “He didn't steal the painting for the money, Lisbon. He stole it because he’s in love with the woman in the frame.”

The air in the California Bureau of Investigation (CBI) office was thick with the scent of stale coffee and unwashed paperwork. , draped over his usual leather couch, stared at the ceiling as if the cracked plaster held the secrets to the universe. The Mentalist

“Jane, get up,” barked, tossing a file onto his chest. “New case. High-end art heist turned messy in Sacramento.” Jane didn’t move

“She’s at the park,” Jane whispered to Lisbon as they walked back to the car. “Wearing a blue scarf. She’s waiting for him, but she doesn't realize he’s already broken.” He stole it because he’s in love with