A/N: Thanks so much for the lovely reviews. They really make my day. This one is shorter and more dialogue heavy than some other chapters, by necessity, I think. The next part is longer, and a bit harder to write, and I didn't want to make you wait longer for the next chapter. I don't own The Mentalist, nor any of the characters or worlds therein. I write for fun and not for profit, and I make no money off any of this. I hope you enjoy and that you'll drop in and let me know what you think.

Jane poured a cup of tea for her and one for himself. He was pleased to see that Lisbon had brought chamomile. That would be helpful to the situation due to its calming effects. He handed her the tea cup and slid the sugar and the cream over toward her, along with a spoon. He watched as she fixed her tea. She took a sip and looked up to find him watching her expectantly.

"Three nights ago, the night before I was supposed to re-join Abbott's team, I was cooking dinner, and I asked my two boys to walk our dog, Duchess. They never came back. Thirty minutes later, I went out looking for them, thinking they probably stopped to talk to some of their friends in the neighborhood, and I found Duchess tied to a fence, alone, sitting there as if she was waiting for them to come back. There was a note on her collar."

"What did this note say?"

"It said that I was to cooperate with whatever was asked of me in the future, if I wanted to see my boys again. Someone would make contact when they wanted something of me."

"And you didn't know why?"

"No."

"Why didn't you tell Abbott and ask for his help?"

"The note told me not to do that. If I did, the boys would die." On that last statement, her voice broke. Jane sat there speaking softly to her until she was calmer.

"Do you still have this note?"

"It is in my handbag in the other room. Agent Cho said they all had to be scanned for listening devices."

Jane nodded. "We'll come back to that. How old are your boys?"

"Lucas is 12, about to turn 13. Mark turned 9 last month."

"And you never had any sort of contact with the person or people who took your sons?"

"No." She could tell he was dubious. "I swear I haven't had any contact with whoever this is, except for the letter."

"What about the listening device the doctor just removed?"

That question left her speechless. Jane read the confusion and the fear on her face. He could tell she had no answer, but he sat watching her, curious to see what she might say finally.

"I've got nothing. I'm sorry."

"It isn't your fault. You did what any parent would do—you protected your children."

She leaned forward then and rested her forehead in her palms. Her shoulders sagged, and there was a general attitude of defeat in her posture.

Jane studied her for a few minutes, intrigued.

She didn't move, but after a moment, she spoke again, and her words were muffled when she asked, "Do you think I'll ever see my boys again?"

"Millie, look at me."

He sat watching her until she looked up and their eyes locked.

"You're worried the kidnappers won't hold up their end of the bargain." It wasn't a question. She nodded.

"There's always that chance. I have no wish to frighten you, but you need to go into this with your eyes open."

She nodded again and looked away, the power of her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Nervous energy drove her up out of her chair and across the small front room of the suite.

Jane saw fear in her eyes and in her posture. Whatever else might be going on, she was genuinely afraid for the safety of her boys. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else going on underneath, something she might not even be aware was happening, and something that could be dangerous to all of them. He motioned her back over to sit beside him, and she did so.

He could tell that something else was bothering her. "What else?"

"I'm worried that this meeting and the removal of the listening device has scared the kidnappers enough to make them do something to the boys."

He spoke in a calm, measured voice beside her.

"Look at me, Millie." She raised her head again to meet his eyes, heedless of the tears now streaming down her cheeks.

Reaching into an inner pocket of his suit jacket, he pulled out a small, white, folded square of fine linen and handed it to her. He gave her a moment to compose herself, his eyes never leaving her face. When she had mostly stopped the tears, wiped the evidence away, and locked into his gaze once again, he spoke up.

"I don't think they'll do anything to the boys right now. Your boys are the only leverage they have to make you do what they want you to do. I imagine, now that the listening device is gone, that they'll make contact somehow. I have a plan—one that will both protect your boys and bring the perpetrator to justice. How well that plan works depends, at least partially, on you."

Her curiosity got the better of her fear and she asked, "What do I have to do?"

"I need you to trust me and to do what I tell you to do. You won't like all of it. Can you do that?"

She gave her eyes a final swipe with the handkerchief, while she took the measure of the man in front of her, as much as she was able, anyway, and weighed it against what Lisbon had told her about him. Finally, she nodded.

"Good. Thank you." His voice was kind when he spoke again. "I want you to stay in here while I go out and talk to the others."

"Why?"

"There's no sense in having you go through all of this again tonight. I'll be back soon. Take this time to rest."

With those words, Jane rose and slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

(0o0)

Jane walked out of the second bedroom.

"Lisbon," he called. She met him halfway into the room. "Where's Millie's handbag?"

"The doctor should be scanning them as we speak."

He walked back into the first bedroom with Lisbon in tow. She helped him locate the handbag that belonged to Agent Potts, and watched with fascination as he opened it and emptied its contents on the bed. His eyes scanned the detritus on top of the comforter, and he reached down and plucked a piece of paper, folded in quarters, from the rest of the haul. Unfolding it, he read silently for a few minutes, and then folded the paper back up and placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

By this time, the doctor had finished her scans and was packing her equipment.

"You removed a listening device from Agent Potts?" Jane asked.

"Yes," the doctor said.

"Any ideas how it got there or who put it there?"

"No. Did you ask her?"

"I did. I was wondering if there might be any marks on her body or anything in her bloodstream that could give us clues as to what or who we might be dealing with here."

"Well, under the circumstances, a blood test might be a good idea. I'll stop in to see her before I leave."

"Thank you."

With that, he walked out the door, back into the main living area of the hotel room. He was pleased to see that they had left a seat on the sofa empty for him, and he sat down on it.

Cho asked, casually, "How's Agent Potts?"

"As well as can be expected, under the circumstances."

"Did she betray us?" Abbott asked.

"Not yet. At least, I don't think so. If she did, it wasn't her fault."

"What do you mean?" Abbott asked.

"Her two boys disappeared while they were out walking the family dog, and when she went looking for them, she found the dog with a note on her collar. The boys were nowhere to be found. She believes whoever wrote the note has the boys, and they only communicated with her through the letter. She doesn't remember talking to anyone."

"But you think she did?" Lisbon said. Of all of them, she could come the closest to reading Jane at times.

He nodded once. "I think she did. If she hasn't communicated with anyone personally, where did that listening device come from?"

"So what's next?" Abbott asked.

"Next, we put our heads together and make our plan. Later, after I've given Agent Potts some time to rest, I'll see if I can jog her memory."