“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.”
“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?” The Mentalist
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.” “She’s at the park,” Jane whispered to Lisbon
“You’re not a thief,” Jane continued, circling him like a shark. “But you’re a romantic. You let someone in after hours. Someone who promised they’d appreciate the art more than a buyer ever could. Who was she?” The Reveal Henderson,” Jane remarked, leaning in close
Lisbon sighed, already regretting the interaction. “We don’t even have a suspect yet.”
“Oh, we do,” Jane said, finally sitting up and smoothing his vest. “He’s the one who’s currently trying too hard to look busy at the gallery. Let's go. I'm bored, and I think I can trick him into confessing before lunch.” The Gallery Gambit