The Mentalist
- Tide -

Forty-five minutes later Patrick stood in the studio. Claudia Wilkins and Davis Smith sat in the couch on the stage, watching the psychic work his magic.
Patrick was used to people crying while he spoke. They thought he was really speaking with their dead loved one, when in fact, he was just guessing. He was a really, really good guesser. Guessing was how he made his money.
''Your father'', he whispered in the microphone. The redheaded woman in the audience burst out in tears and nodded. See, he guessed right. The father. In seventy percent of the cases, it had to do with the father. A deadbeat dad, a cheating father, an abusive father..
''He was never there for you, and he is asking you to forgive him'', mister Jane whispered while looking at the woman. Her husband, or boyfriend, wrapped his arms around here when she started crying even louder. Again, she nodded. ''Forgive him. Say it''. The expression on Patrick's face was dead serious, maybe a little sad as well. ''I forgive you, daddy! I forgive you!'', the woman cried out.
The audience started applauding, and the woman laughed through her tears. Patrick smiled widely and clapped his hands together. It was really that easy. Her body and her eyes had told him exactly what he needed to know.
''Woah! Patrick Jane, ladies and gentlemen!'', Davis yelled. Patrick smirked and turned around, walking towards the stage and slowly sitting down in one of the chairs.

In the meanwhile, his wife Victoria was sitting on the sofa in the living room, watching her husband perform his 'art'. She knew he was a fraud, of course she did. And though she hated what he did, she couldn't help but love her husband. Her husband didn't like his job as a psychic either, but he made good money. He wanted to provide for his wife and daughter. And he did.
''Fool'', Victoria sighed when her husband sat down in the chair. She smiled and took a sip of her wine. ''You handsome, charismatic fool''.
''Mommy'', her daughter whispered by her air. Victoria almost dropped her glass and turned around quickly to face her daughter. Her braids were messy and she was squeezing a plush bunny to her chest. Patrick gave her that bunny when she was born. She's had it in her bed ever since. ''Hi, sweetheart, what's up?'', Victoria asked, softly touching Charlotte's cheek.
''I can't sleep'', the five year old girl answered. She looked at the television, and when she saw her father on the screen, her green eyes lit up. ''Daddy!'', she pointed out. Victoria smiled and put down her glass, taking her daughter in her arms. ''Do you want to go to our bedroom, watch it there?'', she asked. Charlotte nodded immediately, and so, Victoria turned off the TV, drank up her wine, lifted her daughter in her arms and walked up the stairs, towards her bedroom.

''So, Patrick-'', Davis began, but Patrick made a swift movement with his hand and took a big sip of his water. ''Yes, come back to us'', the TV host laughed. Patrick smiled and put down the glass, folding his hands together and looking at the man and woman in front of him.
They were having an affair, he noticed. There was a tiny bit of red lipstick on the man's neck. The same color red that Claudia wore on her lips at that exact moment. Also, her foot was only slightly touching his. A sign of affection that most people would see as a lack of personal space, when in fact, they had an entire couch.
''So, Patrick Jane. I've heard that besides being a psychic, you're also a consultant for the police'', Davis mentioned. Patrick nodded. ''Yes, that's true''.
''So what does that mean, being a consultant?'', Claudia asked.
Patrick smiled at her and ran his fingers through his hair. ''It means that sometimes I visit crime scenes and/or suspects, together with the police. I listen to them, I watch them, sometimes I interview them, and in that way I get a perspective on the person. Which, will help the police solve the crime, sometimes'', Patrick said, then softly laughing.
''Do you use your psychic powers to solve crimes?'', Davis continued.
''Well, yes. Of course we can't arrest a person because a ghost told me he committed the crime, but yes. In most cases I do. Without it I would be quite worthless to the police'', mister Jane joked.
The audience laughed and clapped for a few seconds.
''And right now, you're working on the serial killer, right? Red John?''.
Patrick answered his question by nodding while he took another sip of his water.
''Knowing that you're quite good at reading people, how would you describe Red John?'', Claudia asked him.
Patrick fell silent for a few seconds, thinking about what to say. He couldn't give away anything about the case, of course, but he didn't have to.
''Red John is quite typical. He's a loser, he probably has no friends or family. Nerdy, maybe. He's a lone soul. Enjoys the fear and drama he creates, to him, it's a game. Sad, very sad'', he sighed.

Just seconds after Patrick Jane's words about Red John were said, a TV turned off. In the dark woods of California, a man got up from the couch and walked down to his basement. He changed his clothes, grabbed a backpack, his laptop, and left his house. While he walked to his car, he put on rubber gloves. His hooded sweatshirt didn't show his face, and that was exactly what he wanted. The man stepped in his car and drove off, into the darkness.

Victoria had just exchanged her normal clothing for her pajamas. Well, actually she was wearing an oversized T-shirt that belonged to her husband. It was comfortable, not too warm. After all, it was mid June, it was hot outside, even now, late in the evening.
Charlotte had already turned on the TV, and she was watching her father's every move with a smile across her face. Victoria smiled and turned off the bathroom lights, then she walked to her bed and sat down next to her daughter, who had her plush bunny still in her arms. ''Mommy, do you think daddy is handsome?'', Charlotte asked her mother. Victoria chuckled and looked at her husband's face. ''Yes'', she answered with all honesty. Sun kissed skin, green eyes, blonde curls, her husband was very attractive. So was she. So was their daughter.
They watched the television quietly, and to Victoria's surprise, Charlotte didn't ask about Red John. Charlotte was quite a curious child, and she always asked about her dad's work at the police, but now she didn't. When Victoria looked over to her, she discovered her daughter sleeping, sitting upright. Mrs. Jane smiled and softly lifted her daughter, to then lie her down in the bed and tucking her in. ''Sweet dreams, baby'', she whispered. Victoria kissed her daughter on the tip of her nose and then lied down herself. She turned off the lights and turned the volume of the TV down a little bit.

After ten more minutes of questions, the TV hosts thanked Patrick for coming and said goodbye to him on air. The show ended, and Patrick stayed for ten more minutes, talking to the producers, the hosts, and drinking a cup of coffee. Bad coffee, terrible, but better than water. ''It was a great show, mister Jane, thanks for being here!'', Davis yelled at him while Jane was making his way to the parking lot. ''Agreed, thank you!'', Patrick yelled back smiling, where after he hopped in his car. Ryan Adams' 'Summer of '69' blasted through the car as Patrick drove off the parking lot, on his way home, where his wife and daughter would be waiting for him.