The Mentalist -

“Lovely tie, Mr. Henderson,” Jane remarked, leaning in close. “Silk? Or a desperate attempt to feel sophisticated while you’re drowning in debt?” Henderson paled. “I—pardon me?”

As they drove away, Jane leaned back and closed his eyes. The case was solved, another small victory in a life defined by the one killer he couldn’t outsmart— Red John . For now, the small wins would have to be enough. The Mentalist

“She’s at the park,” Jane whispered to Lisbon as they walked back to the car. “Wearing a blue scarf. She’s waiting for him, but she doesn't realize he’s already broken.” “Lovely tie, Mr