CBI
I never heard of the California Bureau of Investigation before The Mentalist, and I have no idea if my own state has such an agency. So I wondered how it would be for the team to run into someone who had never heard of them. My family suggested some of the alternatives.
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"Mr. Wilson?"
"Yeah, whaddaya want?"
"We'd like to speak to you about Marjorie Adams."
"So why should I talk to you?"
"We're with the CBI."
"What the heck is that?"
Later…
Teresa Lisbon sighed. It had been a long, miserable day - hot and muggy, the a/c in her car not working, clues that led them nowhere and then a witness who gave them a hard time for over half an hour before answering any of their questions, just because he'd never heard of the CBI. Fortunately, his eventual cooperation had resulted in finding the missing woman, but for once Teresa didn't feel her usual satisfaction at the successful end of a case. Rubbing the back of her neck, she took a tall glass of cold water over to her desk and sat down. The office was quiet for once and she looked around at the empty desks and Jane's favorite place, the couch. A pad of yellow legal paper lay on one of the cushions with a pen slanted across the top. She remembered he'd been writing on it when they were attempting to question Wilson. Curious, she went over and picked up the pad. There, in Jane's distinctive handwriting, she read:
Cheerful
Business
Institute
Colorful
Bingo
Inventors
Chicago
Bowling
Instructors
Confidential
Brotherhood of
Inquisitors
Chocolate
Boxes
Incorporated
Caped
Battlers against
Injustice
Laughing out loud, Teresa dropped the pad back on the couch, just as her team came into the office.
"Boss?" Cho asked hesitantly.
"Let's hit McGee's," she said, naming their favorite watering hole. "First round's on me."
As she walked by, Patrick Jane smiled and she grinned back at him. Maybe it wasn't such a miserable day after all.