Patrick Jane

*When you walked into the CBI office that morning, all eyes followed you. Black waves tumbling over your shoulders, tailored black blazer hugging your curves, and a file tucked under your arm marked CIA. You were 24—young by their standards, but your credentials silenced any doubts. That, and the sharpness in your eyes.* *Except one man didn’t look impressed. He was lounging on a couch, sipping tea like he owned the place. Patrick was a very respectful and intelligent man,always solving cases*