Title: (White) Collar Optional
Fandom: Psych, White Collar
Characters: Shawn, Gus, Peter, Neal, Henry, Juliet, Lassiter & Vick with cameos from Mozzie, El, Diana & Jones
Word Count: 1076
Rating: PG-13
Overall Summary: In New York, Peter and Gus search for what happened to Neal and Shawn. In California, Shawn and Gus escape a little too easily, making them wonder if Ridley has other plans.
Notes: Okay, I'm finally posting the sequel to
Psychic in the City. It's still unfinished so posting will stay with Wednesdays until further notice. I'd also like to thank my three betas
snowflakie06,
slytheringurrl and
the_moogie Ein Deux Tre When they reached the terminal, Gus glued himself to Peter’s side. They went to Security to check cameras and learn which gate Ridley took them to. The guards were ready to assist, Hughes having called ahead. One of the guards, Jackson, cued up the ETA for Ridley based on when he left the Hard Rock. About 15 minutes into the video, a medical transport van caught Gus’ eye. He didn’t think much of it until the side door slid open and a man in a wheelchair was lowered. “Oh, my God!” He pointed at the screen. “That’s Shawn!”
Peter peered at the screen. “That’s one way to transport them without any question. Keep them drugged and unconscious with medical papers. Jackson, follow him so we know the gate.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once armed with that information, the four of them headed toward the gate to question the personnel. Diana and Jones would ask around to find out what anyone remembered while Peter and Gus would learn the final destination.
Thankfully there wasn’t a line at the gate kiosk. The woman behind it was typing at her computer. She looked up at them and smiled brightly. “How can I help you?” Her name badge read ‘Melissa’.
Gus was ready with his smooth “hello”, but Peter was quicker and held up his badge. “We’re looking for three men who passed through this gate early this morning at…”
“2:00,” Gus supplied as Peter checked his notes. “Two of them were in wheelchairs.”
“My shift started a couple of hours ago so I can’t tell you anything about passengers, but I can give you the name of the man I relieved.”
“That would be great.”
“Sure.” She wrote down the contact information and handed the paper to Gus.
“Is this second number his cell?” he asked.
“No, mine.” She smiled.
Gus resisted the urge to rub his thumb against the side of his nose. He pulled a number without even using the Pluto line! With a smile, Gus folded the note and slipped it into his shirt pocket, tapping it.
Peter glared at him before turning back to Melissa. “Can you tell us where the plane was going?”
“It was a non-stop to LA.”
“That doesn’t help much. I can call the LA office and have them start checking surveillance.” Peter reached for his phone.
“Wait.” Gus turned to Melissa. “What about special travel requests? He was with two passengers requiring wheelchairs. You’d have his name, right?”
“You don’t know his name?”
“Oh, we know his name. He’s just not using it.”
“Okay, let me check.” She tapped a few more keys. “Yes, there was a Martin Ellis who travelled with two wheelchairs. I’ll see if Los Angeles was the last stop.” She used the mouse to pull up another window. “It looks like he had a connection to Santa Barbara.”
“Thank you, Melissa,” said Peter. “You’ve been a great help. There’s just one more thing…”
Melissa got them tickets on the next flight out. They had about 15 minutes until boarding so Peter was able to call his boss and tell him where they were going as well as tell Jones and Diana to continue working from this end, to even use Lassiter’s file. He then made a quick call to his wife before handing Gus the cell.
Gus dialed. “Mr. Spencer, good news.”
***************************
“Lassiter, O’Hara, my office!”
At the Chief’s call, Lassiter groaned, yet gladly pushed himself away from his desk and the paperwork covering its surface. He looked at his partner as they crossed the bullpen. She’d been distracted all day. He knew he was going to regret it, but… “Are you okay?”
“Huh? Sorry, Carlton. It’s just that I haven’t heard from Shawn since last night and I’m worried.”
“Well, whatever the Chief wants should take your mind off it.”
Chief Karen Vick closed the door behind them and motioned for them to sit as she took the seat behind her desk. “I just received a call from the FBI in New York…”
Oh, Lord, Lassiter thought, what’s the twerp done now?
“A criminal has kidnapped a consultant with the White Collar Division, a Neal--”
“Caffrey,” stated Lassiter, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. “Let me guess: he got Spencer, too.”
“Apparently, they were drugged and flown out here. The agent on the case is on his way now with Mr. Guster.”
“Does Henry know?” asked O’Hara.
Lassiter heard raised voices outside and looked over to see the man in question trying to push his way past McNab. “I would say ‘yes’.”
Vick motioned for the lanky officer to allow Henry in. “I take it you got the call,” he said without preamble.
“Just a few moments ago. I was about to share the details with my detectives. Do you have anything to add?”
“Gus called me this morning to tell me Shawn was missing. There was a meet at some restaurant and they had security footage. Kid took both his phone and Gus’ so the GPS signal that led them to Kennedy Airport. Ridley, bought tickets for three to Santa Barbara. The two of them were in wheelchairs.”
“Do you have the flight number and time for Ridley?” Vick asked.
“Yeah, Gus sent a text.”
Henry handed the phone to the Chief who then passed it to O’Hara. She scribbled down the information before giving the cell back to Henry.
“I want both of you to head to the airport and find out what condition Mr. Spencer and Mr. Caffrey were in when they arrived. Check car rentals and taxi stands so we can narrow down a location.”
“Right, Chief.” Lassiter stood and headed for the door. He stopped and turned when he realized O’Hara wasn’t behind him. She was standing next to Spencer Sr., most likely assuring him about his annoying offspring. Like Henry Spencer needed to hear such platitudes. “O’Hara!” He went back to his desk to grab his jacket and met his partner on the way out.
“Carlton, I didn’t think you’d be in such a hurry to help Shawn,” she said as they crossed the lot.
“Why else would I be?”
“I don’t know. Maybe to get this Ridley guy yourself and thumb your nose at the FBI.” She smiled sweetly at him over the roof of the car.
Lassiter closed his eyes and counted to five. He couldn’t spare the time to reach ten. “Just get in,” he growled.