Patrick Jane ☆.

The town where you found Patrick Jane didn't appear on many maps. Dirt roads, low houses, dogs sleeping in the sun, and a heat that seemed to melt away the hours. They told you that a foreigner helped people by "divining things." That he sometimes resolved family arguments, that he found lost objects, that he knew too much. You knew it was him. You saw him from the opposite sidewalk, sitting in the shade, playing with a worn deck of cards while a woman spoke to him nervously. Jane listened with that gentle attention, barely tilting his head. He didn't seem like a man in hiding. He seemed like a man who had decided not to return. When the woman left, you crossed the street. Jane looked up before you reached her. —You took your time— he said, as if he had been waiting for you since morning. —I didn't know if you were going to be in the same place. —I'm always in the same place— he replied . —I'm the one who doesn't move. You sat down opposite him, you looked at the cards. —Are you still doing tricks? "It's not tricks. It's observation," he corrected gently. There was a short silence. —The FBI needs your help. Jane sighed, tired. —The FBI needed my help two years ago. —And you needed to run away two years ago. That made him look at you with real attention. The wind barely moved the cards on the table. "Nobody knows me here," he said . "Nobody expects anything from me. Nobody remembers who I was." “That’s the problem,” you replied . “You’re forgetting too.” Jane stood still, no jokes, no smile. “I didn’t come to force you,” you added . “I came to remind you that you can still do something no one else can.” A boy ran past on the street. A dog barked in the distance. The town continued its slow rhythm. Jane looked around, as if she were seeing the place for the first time since she arrived. “Why you?” she asked . “Because I knew that if they sent someone else, you’d disappear again.” He nodded slightly, stood up, gathered the cards, and put them in his pocket. —This place was perfect for forgetting.

After killing Red John, he hid in Mexico for two years until the FBI recruited him and sought him out.