Aleksander scrolled through his phone and tapped on the contact labeled Uncle.
He held the phone up."Uncle Patrick, this is Aleksander. I need your help with a case. Yeah… it's our first one. We've got it almost solved, but we need more evidence to make sure the guy doesn't just walk away with a life sentence. He deserves the death penalty."
On the other end, Patrick Jane's calm, measured voice came through, laced with that familiar playful curiosity."Well, that sounds serious. First case and already chasing a monster? Alright, Aleksander, I'll help. Send me what you have."
Aleksander explained all the details of case and ended the call.
Wednesday, still leaning against the table, turned an unblinking stare on him."Who is this mysterious uncle of yours who apparently has access to information no one else does?"
Aleksander answered matter‑of‑factly.
"Patrick Jane Rolen. He's psychic, like you. Works with the California Bureau of Investigation."
Wednesday raised an eyebrow, interest flickering."A government psychic? Interesting."
Aleksander added with a smirk."Although he's not as powerful as you. But he compensates with psychology, NLP, and enough manipulation to outsmart most people in a room."
Wednesday muttered under her breath.
"…Interesting."
California – CBI Headquarters
At the Sacramento office of the California Bureau of Investigation, three figures gathered around a desk.
Patrick Jane, casually sprawled in his chair, wore his usual three‑piece suit with a vest and no tie. His dirty blond hair was slightly tousled, his blue‑green eyes bright with amusement—like he was perpetually watching a magic trick only he understood.
Across from him, Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon stood with arms crossed. Her short black hair framed a sharp, skeptical expression.
Next to Patrick, Grace Van Pelt sat upright with her laptop ready, her auburn red hair falling neatly to her shoulders, eyes focused and professional.
Lisbon gave Patrick a wary look.
"So why do you need Grace to go digging through the information directories for you? You could've come to me directly."
Patrick smiled, that infuriatingly calm grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Because my nephew asked. He's opened a detective agency, and let's just say his first case is… substantial. Bigger than he expected."
Lisbon tilted her head, suspicious."Patrick…" Her tone dropped. "What case?"
Jane laid a folded piece of paper on the desk, sliding it across in his characteristic, casual flair."The Susie Salmon murder. My nephew says he's already solved it. But he believes the killer—your friendly neighbor George Harvey—has done this before. Many times before."
Lisbon frowned and leaned over the paper. As she read the list of ten victims, her expression hardened."This… this is a serial pattern. Years. Multiple states. Is he serious with this, Patrick?"
Jane leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head, his voice calm but certain."He doesn't joke, Lisbon. Neither do I when it comes to things like this."
Lisbon exhaled, eyes still locked on the paper, the weight of it settling in. Finally, she handed it to Grace."Check it. Every name, every location. See if there are official case files that line up."
Grace nodded, sliding the paper toward her laptop."On it. If even half of these line up, Harvey's trail is going to light up like a beacon."
Patrick watched Lisbon's expression, that mischievous little smile tugging again.
"See? My nephew may actually know what he's doing."
Lisbon rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she turned away."God help us if there are two of you running around."
Patrick chuckled softly to himself, clearly pleased.
Grace's fingers moved quickly over her keyboard, eyes scanning through travel records, case files, and archived police reports. Her expression shifted the longer she worked—her face growing more serious with each click.
Lisbon noticed it instantly, crossing her arms.
"It's real?" she asked, her tone clipped.
Grace looked up, her voice steady but grave.
"I only checked three of the names so far. But George Harvey was in every location when those girls went missing. Every single time."
Lisbon's jaw tightened as she leaned over Grace's shoulder to see for herself. The screen displayed Harvey's traceable history—leases, employment stubs, and vehicle registrations connecting him to the right areas at the right years.
Patrick leaned back in his chair, half-smiling as if he had expected nothing less."Well, that settles it then. My nephew wasn't exaggerating. Harvey leaves fingerprints wherever he goes—they just take different shapes."
Lisbon shot him a sharp look."This isn't a game, Jane. If this connects across multiple jurisdictions, we'll need coordination with the FBI. And we'll need airtight evidence, not just travel overlaps."
Patrick raised an eyebrow, his tone playful but laced with steel."Relax, Lisbon. Patterns don't lie. The overlap is enough to open doors. When my nephew finds the right piece of physical proof, we'll slam Harvey shut inside one of them."
Grace closed her laptop halfway, leaning back with a troubled expression.
"If Harvey really is this active, then we have to assume he's perfected the art of destroying or disposing of incriminating evidence. That makes him dangerous in more ways than one."
Lisbon crossed her arms, nodding slightly, though her eyes stayed on Grace.
"Grace is right. Men like Harvey don't survive this long by leaving loose ends lying around."
Patrick, who had been lounging back with his usual half‑smile, suddenly sat up a little straighter, his blue‑green eyes sharp with that spark of insight.
"Unless…" he cut in, his tone wry, "he's not interested in destroying everything. Some men like him want a piece of their crime. Something to make it permanent. Trophies. Keepsakes. Something that lets them relive the murder again and again."
Lisbon gave him a skeptical look, tilting her head."You sound very sure."
Patrick's smile lingered as he tapped the list of victims still sitting on the desk."I've spent years watching liars, Lisbon. When people do terrible things, they need reminders. Otherwise, the high fades, the memory dulls. A man like Harvey? He wouldn't let it dull. He'd want to remember them—feel them—forever."
Grace shifted uncomfortably at the thought, but nodded."That actually… makes sense. If he kept something from each victim, and if those items could be found—hair, photos, possessions—it would be direct evidence."
Lisbon let out a heavy sigh, already knowing Patrick was right and hating it.
"So you're saying he might just be keeping the one thing that could finally put him away."
Patrick leaned back again, that familiar smug smile tugging at his lips.
"Exactly. And all we have to do… is find his box of secrets."
He paused, steepling his fingers in front of him with mock drama."And something tells me… my nephew is already on it."
Lisbon arched an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"You're saying this with zero evidence, of course."
Patrick tilted his head, feigning innocence.
"Come on, Lisbon. Nephew or not, the boy's got instincts. He's probably standing in Harvey's living room at this very moment, poking around."
Grace frowned, concern flickering in her expression."Wait—you think he's actually going after Harvey directly? Without backup?"
Patrick gave her a reassuring smile that somehow wasn't reassuring at all."Not think, Grace. Know. It's exactly what I'd do. Runs in the family."
Lisbon let out a groan and pinched the bridge of her nose."Great. Another Jane running around breaking into crime scenes, only this time it's in Pennsylvania."
Patrick smirked, eyes glinting."Relax, Lisbon. If he's anything like me, he'll come back with the one thing Harvey won't want anyone to see."
Lisbon nodded slowly, exhaling through her nose. She didn't know why, but Patrick's certainty about his nephew unsettled her. There was always that nagging feeling—when Jane knew something, it was usually right.
"Alright," Lisbon said firmly, turning to Grace. "Start pulling every file that matches. Cross-reference the victims, dates, missing persons, cold cases—everything. If Harvey's trail is this wide, we won't get another chance to bring him down."
Grace gave a determined nod and immediately began typing again, her fingers moving fast across the keys.
Patrick leaned back with a satisfied little hum, watching Lisbon's focus with quiet amusement."See? You're already invested. Admit it—you like my nephew."
Lisbon shot him a glare."I don't even know your nephew, Jane. But if he's anything like you, God help us all."
Patrick's grin widened, his tone playful but edged with sincerity."Or maybe… God help Harvey."