Lisbon watched with bemusement as Rigsby juggled an obviously hot soup bowl while trying to close the rec room door behind him. She'd spent the last three hours getting updates, such as they were, from Stanton, fielding calls from both Bertram and Kirkland, holding Jane until he fell asleep, and wading through the interviews of all the people between the bus stop and Michaela Jackson's home. She was exhausted and Rigsby's antics were a nice comic relief.

Door safely closed, Rigsby carried the bowl back to his desk with his fingers holding only the top inch awkwardly.

"You okay there, Rigsby?" she asked with a concerned grin as he passed her.

"Yeah, boss. Just getting seconds," Rigsby said. "I told Patricia the laptop was on its way."

"Van Pelt, how you coming on that?" Lisbon asked.

"Almost ready. Just checking on a few things."

"Jane's up there with her. He actually seems okay," Rigsby said.

"He's upstairs?"

"Yeah. In the kitchen."

"With Patricia? Really?"

"Yeah."

"Went up about twenty minutes ago," Cho said.

She stood. That was weird. He'd just cried himself to sleep a couple hours before and Lisbon couldn't imagine him waking up and going straight to Patricia. "I better go check that out."

"No, really. He seemed totally fine."

"That doesn't necessarily mean he is," she said, frowning. "Van Pelt, can I take that with me?"

Grace looked up. "Yeah. Let me just close these windows."

"Cho, come with me. I want you with the laptop at all times."

"Got it," Cho said.

When Lisbon and Cho headed upstairs they found Ryan was still lounged out with the TV watching a Japanese game show. In the kitchen, they found Jane at the island with the case files Lisbon had given him spread out before him and Patricia leaning against the island looking at them with some concentration. Cho went and set the laptop on the counter.

"What are you doing, Jane?" Lisbon asked. She was alarmed about the case files.

Jane turned and looked at her. She saw his surprise at seeing her soften into something like relief. "Hi."

She came and stood next to him. "What are you doing with these up here?" she asked.

"I'm just playing a game with Patricia," he said.

"I don't think case files are anything to play with, Jane," Lisbon said. She was starting to get pissed he had brought them upstairs, let alone have them laid out so openly on the kitchen island. Surely he hadn't let Patricia see anything inside?

"Patrick is testing me," Patricia said.

"You're familiar with the blindfold act, aren't you Lisbon? Well, that's what this is, but instead of a blindfold, we've got closed files. No assistants."

Lisbon frowned. "Jane, can I talk to you?"

"It's okay, Lisbon. Patricia says she wants to help."

"Oh, really? And when did that suddenly become okay?"

"This is a controlled test, Lisbon. She can't see anything. There's no one here helping or distracting. What's there to lose if she makes a connection?"

"Jane—"

"What's going on?" Ryan asked as he came in and went to stand by his mother.

"Nothing is going on," Lisbon said. "Jane and I need to talk."

Cho casually pushed off the counter and positioned himself strategically near Ryan.

"Agent Lisbon, I'd like to try. I think I can be of help," Patricia said.

"No offense, Patricia, but this is not Jane's call. I don't know what he's set up here, but this is not how the CBI operates."

"Lisbon—"

"No, Jane, this is not a carnival act. These files are not a deck of cards."

"I'm not treating them like that."

She heard the hurt in his words, but she was too alarmed at his using the victim files to test his mother. "You cannot use these to prove or disprove her abilities," she said with finality.

Ryan laughed. "Seriously," he said. "That's what's going on here?"

Lisbon and Jane both looked at him.

"Ryan," Patricia said distractedly, like a vague warning she wasn't fully committed to. Lisbon saw she was concentrating on the files, looking at each one, moving back and forth between them all.

Ryan spoke directly to Jane. "What? The 'skeptic' doesn't believe the hundreds of cases she solved? You have to test her yourself before you'll believe?" He laughed again. "Yeah, I think I called it."

"Ryan, stop it." Patricia was still distracted, her admonishment only half-attended.

"And what, exactly, did you call?" Jane asked.

"You're an asshole."

"Oh." And now Jane was laughing.

"Jane," Lisbon groaned.

"So you've inherited your mother's gift and eloquence. Impressive."

"Shut up, Jane," Lisbon said. "God, both of you just shut up." God, she wanted to punch them both.

Jane smiled and chuckled his pleasure, a stark contrast to the murderous countenance Ryan was trying to control.

"There is a connection between them," Patricia said, still staring at the files. "You are frustrated because you can't see the connection, but it's there. They are related. The first three are very related. The last one is the anomaly."

She had their attention.

The smile on Jane's face disappeared. "That's pretty obvious," he said. "Anyone watching TV could see that."

"Patience, Patrick. You were never very good at that." Patricia looked up pointedly at him before returning her concentration to the files.

Lisbon saw Jane harden at the reprimand, but he didn't have a comeback. That was interesting. He wasn't flying off the handle with his mother anymore. He wasn't completely taken in by her either, but what was most interesting to Lisbon in that moment was the possibility of there being someone in the world that could get Jane to behave himself. She looked at Patricia. The woman might have some powers after all, more than even she knew she had.

"The connection is very specific. It's personal. It's petty. The first three are not really about you, Patrick. He just made them that way because he's angry at you too. But it's really about money. It's about the loss of money."

Patricia looked up at Jane. "The last one. The one here in Santa Clarita—that was about you. You were the woman's lover, but you didn't care about her. You were using her. You ruined something …"Patricia raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh." Then she quickly shook off what had surprised her and said, "Michaela was the only random victim. She was needed to complete the tableau."

Lisbon saw Jane calculating her words behind his poker face.

Patricia turned to Ryan who was looking derisive. "Don't say it," she said sternly enough to shut Ryan completely down. He frowned but kept his mouth shut.

"We need more than that," Jane said. "What about the money?"

"The three families are all tied to his loss of money. The two wealthy families are more directly related."

"Is he done?" Jane asked. "Did the killings satisfy his anger?"

Patricia looked at Jane with tenderness. "I don't think so. He feels very unstable. I mean, more than usual for that sort of man."

"Is that all?"

"Is that all?" Ryan asked, incredulous. "She'd probably tell you where the guy is having coffee if she could see inside the files. You know, maybe go to a crime scene."

Patricia turned to him. "Ryan, don't. You don't know what's going on here."

Lisbon reached in front of Jane to collect the case files. "Kid, your mother may have established herself elsewhere, but she has not established herself here. We're not in the habit of opening case files for just anyone."

"She's not just anyone," Ryan said.

"No, she's not. She's someone who made a career of not finding her first born son. This isn't about her ability to close cases. It's about our ability to trust her." She had all the files in hand now. "Jane, I need to talk to you."

She turned and left the kitchen, Jane following close behind. They had almost cleared the dining room table, headed for the bedroom, when Patricia called out, "Patrick." They stopped and looked back, watching as Patricia walked to them.

She approached with an obvious deference. "I do understand you don't trust me," she said to Lisbon before turning to Jane, "but I am not doing anything that you can't do yourself, Patrick. If you visit that room in your memory palace, you will find that you locked up more than just me."

Lisbon looked at Jane, more shocked at his having told Patricia about the room than at what Patricia was implying. Jane remained as impassive as if his mechanic had just told him the Citroen needed an oil change.

"Cho is going to help you get in touch with your husband," Lisbon said to Patricia. Something had definitely changed between the two and it made Lisbon uneasy.

"Thank you," Patricia said.

Lisbon touched Jane's arm and turned back for the bedroom. He followed her down the hallway and when they reached the door, she pushed it opened for him to enter first. He hesitated, searching her face for clues, but she had so many thoughts running riot in her head she doubted he'd find any that made sense. He stepped in front of her and entered. She followed, closing the door behind them.

"Why are you so mad?" he asked. "You were the one who wanted to bring her on the case."

"I did not—" She cut herself off. "I'm sorry, I'm still trying to get over the shock that you would even pull that stunt out there after threatening to leave just a few hours ago if she was brought in. And then telling her about why you don't remember her?"

Jane frowned and turned away. He walked over to the window. Sunshine spilled in through the slats. He was a rumpled mess, still unshowered, wrinkled shirt hanging out of his wrinkled pants, the bruise from Ryan's punch only slightly less bruised than from the night before.

She went and tossed the files on the bed. "What were you thinking?"

"I didn't think it was a big deal. What's the worse she can do looking at a few file folders?"

"What happened? When I left you, you were—"

"Nothing happened."

"You threatened to leave the CBI if she had anything to do with the investigation. And a few hours later you've got all the victim files laid out before her. What the hell, Jane? What is going on?"

"Well what about you?" he asked. "A few hours ago you were thinking about bringing her on and now you're acting like she really is a disciple of Red John's."

"I wasn't thinking about bringing her on. I was thinking about how we could determine if she was trustworthy."

"As a first step towards bringing her on."

"An important step that shouldn't be bypassed. I know I don't need to remind you that Craig O'laughlin nearly killed me and would have killed Grace if given the chance. Do I like your mother? Yes. Do I trust her completely? No. Do I want her anywhere near our case files at this point? No."

"She gave us some potential leads."

"And we'll pursue them. What happened, Jane?"

"Nothing." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I just…" He was embarrassed. That much was clear.

"It's okay, Jane. It's just me."

"I just want this to be over."

He went and sat on the edge of the bed. Lisbon watched and waited for him to say more, but he just sat there staring off into space.

She went and sat next to him, moving the files out of the way.

"The hedge funds that went south," he said.

"What?"

"The family in Stockton. They manage hedge funds. A couple of them imploded. You should get the list of investors in those."

"Right."

"And the husband from Lodi—he deals with tax fraud."

Lisbon had her phone out and was dialing Van Pelt. When she answered, Lisbon said, "Van Pelt, get the entire list of investors the Malones had in their failed hedge funds. Then get a list of the income tax fraud investigations in the state for the last five years. Start with any case Michael Powell was involved in, but if nothing pops, keep digging until something does."

"Okay, boss," Van Pelt said.

"She said the last family wasn't directly related," Jane said.

"Hold on, Van Pelt." Lisbon waited for Jane to follow his train of thought.

"Look for extended family who deals with money," he said.

"You get that?" Lisbon asked in the phone.

"Got it," Van Pelt answered.

"Let me know if anything comes up," Lisbon said and hung up. Jane was still staring off into space. "Those are good leads."

"Yes, it seems so."

"Are you going to tell me what happened or not?

He frowned, pulling out of his trance. "Nothing happened. I just learned some things I didn't want to and then I remembered something. I mean she made me remember something."

"She made you?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"She cooked my favorite soup. I smelled it in my sleep and dreamed about it. She did it on purpose."

"And is that a good thing or bad thing?"

Jane looked at her, annoyed.

"You know what I mean."

"Smell is the most accurate memory recall tool. She wanted me to remember something nice about her."

"And did you?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And I just thought after everything she had written in her journal and her offer to help that maybe I should take her up on it, in a very limited and controlled way. Just to see what would happen."

"And when did she make this offer to help?"

Jane didn't answer.

"Jane, you said you wanted to talk. I'm here to talk."

"I know."

"What was in that journal that's made you so uneasy?"

Jane looked at her. "She knew things that she shouldn't have known. There's no way she could have known—at least not the ones about me. I can't corroborate the others. At least I don't want to."

"The others?"

"Van Pelt. Cho." He looked away. "You."

"Me? What does she know about me?"

"It doesn't matter. I was just thinking that the test out there can't really prove she's psychic, even if the information all turns out to be right."

"Why not?"

"Because a Red John disciple would know all that."

"So we're back to that. I thought you'd dropped that."

"But why should we discount it? I discounted it because I thought she'd had a fuller, normal life, that she didn't fit the profile of someone who would be recruited by Red John, but she has apparently had times in her life when she did. Her most vulnerable time was between leaving the carnival and meeting her husband. Who says he's not a minion? Bret Stiles is in Jakarta, isn't he?"

Lisbon's head was starting to hurt. A soft knock on the door drew her out of Jane's wheels within wheels scenario. She went and opened the door to Cho holding the laptop at the side of his leg.

"The husband is not available. Ryan wants to know if he can Skype his boss and girlfriend."

"He has a girlfriend, huh?" Lisbon thought about it for two seconds. "Tell him no, tell him he can send an email and you have to proof it."

"Okay, boss."

"And if the husband becomes available, I want you right there. Watch them for any sort of undercurrent or code language. Look for anything weird."

"On it." He turned to leave.

"And Cho, tell the others not to disturb us right now. I need to talk through some things with Jane."

He nodded and left. Lisbon shut the door and turned to find Jane had moved off the end of the bed and was now pacing around the room deep in thought.

God, she didn't know where to begin with him.