A/N: So, not the best at writing FBI case details. As seen below. To all my other Mentalist writers, any tips/tricks/advice on how to best and most accurately write these things, that'd be swell. Thanks for reading and enjoy the first chapter!

Chapter 1

"No matter what happens from this point on, we have to promise each other that we will always look at the bright side."

"Alright, boss. What do we got?"

The strong, brunette FBI agent struts confidently into the office of one Kimball Cho. His simple, organized, deliberate office somehow was comforting to her.

"The daughter. She pulled through."

Lisbon was surprised. "She...what?"

"Yep. A little under and hour ago. Came through today to Van Pelt and confessed everything. Said the voice she heard the night of the murder was her father. Arguing and then the attack. He didn't know she was home at the time. And when he came upstairs to discover her it wasn't pretty. He said he'd kill her if she said anything."

Lisbon exhaled, both of relief and heartbreak for this 14 year old. "Jane was right...she didn't get hurt by the supposed attacker. It was her father." Almost disappointed in herself that she didn't believe him. By now she'd picked up on majority of his reading capabilities-even though she would never be as good, she was still pretty good.

"Where is she now?"

"Van Pelt is with her in the staff lounge. We're keeping her here until we can get evidence for his wife's murder."

"And her statement?"

"Recorded. We just need the murder weapon and tangible evidence and we've got him."

Lisbon exhaled once again. They had been trying to nail someone for this homicide for weeks now. She could only imagine how this poor girl is feeling.

"Wish we could cuff him with just a witness." she muttered under her breath.

"Regardless, if he doesn't get a lawyer, we can still bring him in until we find something. We've got a warrant for the house. We're hoping to find some traces of blood somewhere to indicate the weapon. You and Rigsby go ahead with forensics. They're on their way right now."

"You got it, boss."

Teresa was more than happy that they finally nailed this guy. If only they could get the evidence. She knew she had to do one thing before she went out.

Rigsby was in the bullpen pulling his jacket onto his long, burly arms. "Lisbon? Ready to go?"

"Ah, yeah just a second," the agent walked deftly, heels harmonizing with the anxious clicking of a pen in her hand, towards the staff lounge. Turning the corner she met eyes with Grace, the young girl sitting beside her. Lisbon inhaled, casually being reminded of her own daughter not much older than her. This girl looked so young, so battered, so fragile. But also radiating strength. Lisbon considered for a second how lucky she was the Clara had her tough girl genes. It was inevitable, but nonetheless was thankful for her daughters determination and intelligence.

She knocked lightly on the doorframe before proceeding. "Hey."

The young blonde girl lifted her gaze to meet Lisbon's, quickly wiping tears from her cheeks.

"How're you holdin' up?" the brunette FBI agent asked, sitting in a chair opposite her and the red head agent.

"Uhm. O-okay," the girl confessed, still wiping solemn tears from her delicate porcelain cheeks.

Grace reached her hand to place on the young girls shoulder. "Hollie, we promise we are going to keep you safe. He can't hurt you anymore."

She nodded, looking down at her fingernails which were bitten down practically to the cuticle out of anxiety.

Lisbon put a gentle hand over hers, "I promise. We are going to keep you safe."

Interrupted by a loud shout from the other room, the two agents darted their heads towards the door.

"Where. IS SHE?" a booming voice echoed throughout the building, Hollie twitching at the recognized voice.

"Grace, stay here with her. Also give Jane a call. We'll need him."

Lisbon gathered herself and rushed towards the bullpen where Cho and Rigsby were already in the process of calming the angry man down.

"Mr. Gunner, Mr. Gunner calm down!"

"You guys have her. You FBI VERMIN have my daughter, don't you?!"

Before he could say another word, Cho diligently grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. "Sir, I suggest you calm down and talk to us."

Breathing furiously, he laid off the yelling and laid eyes on Hollie. Despite the intensity of the interaction, he spoke softly, cooly, comforting. "Hollie, c'mon. We're going home. This is just a big misunderstanding. C'mon. C'mon, sweetie."

Grace led Hollie by the shoulders down the hall away from the situation. Lisbon walked up to the irate man, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Mr. Gunner, we suggest you come sit down with us and have a little chat."

"This is insane. You people don't know what you're doing."

"Sir, did you kill your wife?" Lisbon had very little patience for this man now, post daughter confession.

"Wh-what? No! Of course I didn't!"

A few click-clacks of the familiar brown shoes made themselves known at the door. "Are you a tenor?" Jane appeared in the doorway, helping himself inside the interrogation room. "Because that was the highest pitched lie I've ever heard."

"You. You two. You're a couple. Isn't that illegal? Working together?" the burly man clenching his knuckles beneath his hand.

"I am definitely interested in how you know that information but, I digress." The blonde agent grabbed a chair and joined his wife on the appropriate side of the table. "We know you killed your wife. We have new information to prove it."

"Look, my daughter already confirmed to having heard the attacker. That is not new information. She hasn't been able to identify a voice, but-but that doesn't mean it was me? Because she says so?"

Lisbon pulled a manila file folder onto the table, opening it up and reading from it. "Mr. Gunner, we have a record last year of your wife calling in a domestic dispute." The handcuffed man slide his gaze to his hands, slowly biting into his bottom lip. The female agent kept strict eye contact, belittling him. "Would you like to tell us about that?"

He exhaled, picking at his thumb with his index finger. "That... That was a big misunderstanding. It was a small argument and-and I was a little drunk and I'm not proud but that most certainly does not mean I'm the killer."

Patrick Jane continued to study the man. There were signs of dishonesty, but delightfully countered with real, truthful reactions. He hadn't called for a lawyer yet, insinuating his potential of not having anything to hide.

Mr. Gunner looked Patrick Jane in the eye. "You two should know. You're married. You understand the arguments that come with the deal. They happen. You go to bed. You wake up and make eggs and you're back on track."

"Yes, but you forgot the part where you kill your wife." Jane persisted.

"I did NOT kill my... just...just...please? Please...just..." to Jane and Lisbon's surprise, the brawny man breathed intensely and began to cry. "You have a daughter, don't you Mr. and Mrs. Jane?"

Jane felt a tightening in his chest. How did this man know so much about them?

"You would do absolutely anything for her, wouldn't you?"

"Yes." Jane answered subtly under his breath. He kept his locked eye contact with the man across the table.

"So you would understand that if someone took your daughter away from you, you'd just want her back. You'd just want to hold her and tell her it will all be okay." He wiped his tears with his sleeve. "Agents, my daughter is all I have now that my wife is gone. We only have each other. Please. You can't split us up. She needs me."

"Rather, you need her." Jane insisted.

The man took a moment. "We need each other, Mr. Jane." He paused to pick at his hand once more before continuing. "And I think it rather cruel given your past for you to take both my wife and child away from me, sir."

The handcuffed man and Patrick shared a long, deep stare. Jane could sense something was off about this man and rose from the table, excusing himself from the room. His past hadn't haunted him as much in these past sixteen years. Mainly because of the closure of killing Red John. Mainly because of starting his new family, his new life. He knew something was off about this man. Jane found himself pacing near his couch in the bullpen, holding his elbow in one hand and index finger tapping like morse code on his chin.

Lisbon approached from behind, making her presence known by an exhausted exhale. "He just asked for a lawyer. We can't hold him without proper evidence. The daughter's testimony will only have a little weight, but it's hard to confirm voice recognition so we don't even know if she's telling the truth."

"Don't let him see her. He's abusive." Jane remained in his pacing pattern, the wheels of his mind furiously turning.

"Well, we know that because of the domestic dispute."

"But also the way he talks about her. It's...it's about power, about protection, about..." Jane stopped, smoothing his hand against his mouth and sitting down. He couldn't imagine anyone ever touching their daughter like that. All cases were different now considering Clara.

"About...?" Lisbon prodded gently, making her way towards him. He sat in silence, slowly, subtly, shaking his head back and forth. "You okay?"

"He's going to do something, Lisbon." He muttered. "I know it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been working on the case for a few weeks now?" Jane interrogated.

"Yes, just over a few."

"He's smart. He knew this was going to happen. He hasn't been involved in any cases prior to this, has he?"

"We haven't had reason to check, yet. He had a solid alibi. Hey," She placed her hand in his to calm his busy fingers. "Take a moment. Take a breath. We don't know if he's our guy."

"Where's the daughter?" Jane persisted, standing up from his position on the couch.

"Ah, Hollie. She's with Van Pelt-"

He deftly lead himself to the staff lounge, ignoring Lisbon calling after him. He found the young girl with Grace sitting comfortably together on a small, blue sofa they had there. The girl had what seemed to be an entire box of tissues wadded up in her lap. Before entering the room, Jane took a second to breathe. Teresa had started to point out when he became overly passionate about a case and it clouded his judgement, so he had been working on calming down before proceeding.

He tapped lightly at the doorframe as the two heads turned; the young girl's face plastered with fear. She turned her head and back a little into Van Pelt for protection.

"Sorry," Jane began. "I didn't mean to startle you. My name is Patrick."

"I know," she muttered. "Is he still here?" Hollie asked, head down and fingering the used tissues in her lap.

Jane picked up a chair from the table and brought it nearby the sofa, ignoring the first comment momentarily. "Ah, yes. But he's in a locked and watched room. You needn't worry."

Hollie shook her head side to side, frantic. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I-I really don't know if it was him, I just...I just..."

"Shhh.." Jane comforted her, placing a light touch on her knee. She quickly retreated into Grace, placing her hand on the place he'd touched.

He knew. He knew he had been hurting her. Why else would she be afraid of a mans light touch of comfort?

"Hollie, I know this is hard. But you did the right thing."

"I don't think so. Now it's not just me," she mumbled under her breath.

Grace and Patrick met each other's glance. "What do you mean?" he asked, gently.

"Patrick?"

He knew this wasn't the time, but he persisted. "How do you know my name?"

"He knows a lot. Be careful."

Patrick couldn't help but continue. "And why would you say that, Hollie?"

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry, I'm done talking now."

Van Pelt looked at Jane, both of them confused. He felt a sinking feeling in his chest. "That's okay, Hollie. Take care of yourself, okay? Excuse me."

Patrick Jane rose from his seat, placing it back at the table and exiting the room. He glanced and saw a lawyer joining Mr. Gunner in his interrogation room.

Enough time passed and Mr. Daniel Gunner was on his way out. Patrick watched as he left with his lawyer, holding concrete eye contact with the man. He noticed as the corner of his mouth upturned slightly, a glimmer shining in his eye. The man turned to his lawyer to wait a moment, approaching Patrick on his couch.

"I intend on getting my daughter back, Mr. Jane. You can't hold her for no reason."

"As long as she admits to your abuse, social services can hold her as long as they like."

Color drained from Mr. Gunner's face. "How dare you. Manipulate my daughter into saying things that aren't true. I would never hurt my Hollie."

"Well, that's not what she has to say." Patrick rose from his place on the couch, keeping strict eye contact with the man. "I suggest you think about what you've done, Daniel. Think about it long and hard and reconsider. Because we will get you to confess. You do not know what I am capable of."

Unmoved, unaffected, Mr. Gunner took a small step closer to Patrick, the two practically touching. He placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Oh, I assure you, Mr. Jane. I'm well aware what you're capable of." He smiled shortly, winking at the blonde haired consultant. Mr. Gunner patted his hand on his shoulder twice, before beginning to walk back to his lawyer on their way out.

"What was that about?" Lisbon asked, approaching.

Patrick looked up, taking in a large breath. "Ah, nothing." He reached into his pocket, retrieving his phone.

"Jane, seriously." Lisbon persisted. She put one hand on his upper arm, looking at his phone as he dialed Clara's number.

He held up a finger to quiet her for a second. "Just checking on Clara for a second."

"She's sixteen, I think she can handle herself at home for a few hours."

He listened as the dial tone echoed in his ears.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

"C'mon, Clara..." he anxiously tapped his free hand against his leg while he paced alongside the couch.

Fourth time.

Hey! This is Clara! Leave me a message and I'll call you-"

Patrick hung up before the automated message could finish, quickly hitting re-dial.

"No answer?" Lisbon furrowed her brow, reaching to check her own phone.

Jane's heartbeat raced beneath his chest, complying to the dial tones once again.

Once.

He remembered how much Daniel Gunner seemed to know about him and his family.

Twice.

He recalled the comment he made about having a daughter.

Three times.

He remembered locking the door on his way out.

"Hey, Dad!"

Patrick Jane's heart rate returned to a normal pace, hearing the recognized voice.

"Hey, darling." he wiped a tear from his cheek. "Just calling to check up? All good there?"

Clara paused for a moment. "Yeah...everything's fine. You guys okay?"

"Yep, yeah. We're, ah, we're just getting ready to head home." He looked at Teresa, her giving him a look of I told you so...

"Okay! I'll heat up some of the leftovers for Mom."

"You do that, sweetheart. We'll be home soon."

"Okay! Love you!"

"Love you too. Bye."

He clicked the small red button on his phone to end the conversation, exasperated. Lisbon came to him, holding him by the two hands and giving him a kiss. "You worry too much." She said, comfortingly.

"Yeah, well..." he sighed and smiled at the same time. "Do you blame me?"

She kissed him again. "No. But still." She held his hands in hers, stroking his hand under her thumb. "C'mon, we can't do much for now. Cho says to go home."

Jane nodded, complying. He knew he had to figure out a plan for how to catch this guy, but wasn't too sure how yet. "I've got a bad feeling about him, Teresa. I know there's more to him than meets the eye."

"We'll see what Rigsby and the team find out with the warrant. But if we can't find a weapon, we can't hold him for anything. We can only discuss things with social services about Hollie."

The duo grabbed their things and headed home in their appropriate cars. As the lights passed above Patrick Jane on the freeway, his mind raced as to solve this case. How did he know so much about them? The internet held a lot of information regarding the Red John case, so that was no surprise. But there was some way he was connected to something bigger. Something more.

Jane pulled into their dirt driveway behind Lisbon, parking and getting out of the car. The two met outside of their beautiful cabin home, Patrick putting a loving arm around Teresa as they walked to the large, wooden porch. Jane gave her a soft kiss on her cheek and moved his arm from around her shoulder to her lower back. They walked onto the porch, Lisbon unlocking the front door and entering their home. They could hear the faint sound of the television from through the slightly open window.

"Clara? We're home!" Lisbon stated, entering the house and putting her keys in their key bowl. She took off her shoes, glancing in the living room for the young body.

No Clara.

"Clara?" Patrick questioned, not bothering to take off his shoes.

"She's probably in the shower," Lisbon reasoned.

Not listening, Patrick walked swiftly down the hall towards her bathroom.

No lights.

No running water.

No Clara.

"She wouldn't have gone out, would she?" Lisbon continued, looking outside for her car.

"No, her car is outside," Jane said, exasperated. He went to their bedroom perchance but no trace of the girl was to be found. "Clara?"

No response.

"Teresa, call her phone."

Teresa complied, pulling out her phone to call her daughter.

"Clara?" Patrick went outside to search for the young girl.

No trace.

Suddenly they heard the faint ringing of a phone coming from the kitchen.

They both ran to the kitchen, searching for the source of the ringing. Patrick Jane saw a light from in the microwave. "Teresa..." he pointed towards it, running to open it.

He found her ringing phone accompanied by the dinner leftovers and a small note.

You do not know what I am capable of.

END OF CHAPTER 1.