Patrick Jane (AKA The Mentalist) studied the remains of the body. A female was murdered sometime last night, and an anonymous 911 call was made at 2:00 AM. The signal had gone dead before they had a track. So they were at a dead end. The body was found under the Culpepper Creek bridge the next day. No wounds or bruises, just as if she fell of the bridge. Jane smiled as his golden hair waved in the wind. Jane turned away from the body and saw CBI (California Bureau of Investigation) agent Teresa Lisbon walk towards him, followed aggressively by a large white male.
"Look, lady," he began in a Brooklyn accent. "I just wanna know what happened." Lisbon turned around.
"Look, I already told you. CBI policy prevents me from disclosing any information about any case."
"Oh my God!" he cried. "Shannon!" He knelt down next to the body. "How could she possibly fall off this bridge?" You are meant to think that. But I know something neither you or Lisbon knows, he thought. But he showed no emotion.
"Are you this woman's husband?" Before the man could answer, Jane continued quickly. "Of, course not, how silly of me to think that. I could tell by the way you looked at her, a certain angle. In fact, I don't think you even know her. Unless you killed her." The man looked shocked.
"Me? Kill Shannon? No! Shannon and I were close friends. But lately she hasn't been taking her depression medicine. She must have gone over the edge." Jane couldn't help but add, "Literally." The man looked at him like he was crazy.
"Man, who you think you are?" Lisbon stepped in.
"This is Patrick Jane, he's a phychic with the CBI, but the question really should be, who are you?"
"Consultant," Jane corrected. "I used to make a good living pretending to be a phychic, but that was before the accident."
"Since when do you use the same line twice?" Lisbon mocked. "Now will you please tell me who you are and why you are here?"
The man answered with a will.
"James Christopher."
"From Brooklyn, I suppose? What exactly are you doing out here, 'James' "?"
"I moved here to be with Shannon and find a better job. I haven't been here but two weeks." Lisbon began to tell him he could go, but Jane stepped in.
"Mr. Christopher, how long have you been sleeping with Mrs. Jacobsen? She is married, you know." The man spread his arms wide, pleading innocence.
"I ain't been sleeping with Shannon! We're friends from high school."
"Really?" Jane said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Because I see how nervous you are, which mean you're afraid someone will discover you're secret. You are also sweating, another sign of nervousness. Finally, the classic neck rub. When you answered, saying you hadn't been sleeping with her, you rubbed the back of your neck, which indicates you are trying to look earnest, but at the same time you are showing uncertainty. Viola! Lisbon, how fast was that?" Lisbon ignored Jane, dismissing James.
"Thank you for your time." Lisbon said. As he walked away, Lisbon released her feelings on Jane as she always did.
"What the heck were you thinking? Giving him info about the case?"
"I wasn't giving him info, I was merely probing him." Jane said with pleasure. He LOVED his job. Lisbon sighed as they walked together across the river bed.
"Sometimes I really hate you."
"Do we have any leads?" Jane asked, deftly changing the subject.
"We'll start like we always do," Lisbon said.
"The family members." They stepped into the black Chevy. Lisbon rolled down the window. "Rigsby," she yelled.
"You're in charge." Rigsby, a tall man with black hair and a want for love nodded. He snuck over to Van Pelt, who he had a crush on. She had stunning red hair and long eyelashes. He began sweet talking her, but she tried to ignore it, pretending to mark the evidence. Jane smiled. At this rate, Rigsby would never get a wife or at least a girlfriend. In fact, Van Pelt would be getting married soon. They drove up the access ramp onto the main highway.
"All right, Lisbon you got me into this, so where are we going?" Lisbon's short black hair waved in the wind from the open window.
"What?" she yelled. Jane reached across her and rolled her window up.
"I said, you got me into this, so where are we going?"
"Oakland. We're going to talk to Shannon's sister, Julie."
"What would Shannon's last name happen to be?"
"Jacobson, why?" Lisbon said, a confused expression on her face. Jane loved that expression. It was so cute. It made Jane feel like she was meant for him. But he never showed it.
"Call Hightower," Lisbon said. "Tell her what we have on the case so far." Jane sighed.
"Why don't you?"
"I'm driving!" Lisbon persisted.
"You know whats wrong with you?" Jane said. "You justify your actions by defending yourself. That doesn't work with me. Because I can read your mind."
"Oh, sure, for thirty bucks, what am I thinking right now?"
"You're thinking, I sure am glad Jane is just kidding and can't really read my mind. Am I correct?" "No. Well, yes. But not for what you think." Lisbon's cheeks turned bright red.
"You're blushing."
"Am NOT!"
"You ARE blushing."
"Just give me the phone!" Lisbon cried, exasperated. Jane grinned widely. The perfect way to not have to do anything.
"Wait, Lisbon. You're forgetting something." He rubbed his fingers together in the international sign for money. Lisbon dug into her purse and slammed the thirty dollars into his hand.
"Here. You happy now? Will you leave me alone?" she said, exasperated.
"This is only twenty." Jane protested. Lisbon couldn't take any more. She backhanded Jane. "Oww!" He said, holding his nose.

R & R!