PSYCH: The Dah-Ling Store-It-Yourself (PG-13), Shawn/Lassiter.

Aug 04, 2009 23:51

The bad news is that one of Lassiter's highest profile arrests has just escaped from prison. The worse news is that his best hope of tracking him down is a sleep-deprived Shawn Spencer.



back to part three

Buzz ran up as Lassiter got out of the car. “There’s someone here to see you,” he said.

Lassiter was about to answer when he heard the passenger door slam. He saw Shawn start to head off down the sidewalk. “Spencer, get your ass back here! I’m not done talking with you.”

“I think you made your feelings pretty clear, and I’m not sure there’s anything left to say,” Shawn said.

Lassiter pointed to the station. “Wait for me inside.”

Shawn heaved a sigh, but went up the steps into the station. He frowned as he headed towards Lassiter’s desk. There was a woman sitting on the surface, putting on lipstick as she watched her reflection in a small circular mirror. She had her legs crossed at the ankles, her feet encased in what were probably $400.00 dollars worth of shoes. She was wearing a yellow tube dress that she seemed ready to pop right out of, and a tennis bracelet around one wrist.

She snapped the mirror closed and looked up, her long black hair flying everywhere, and that’s when Shawn recognized her. Ava Dah-Ling. The Dah-Ling Darling.

She frowned when she saw him. “Who are you?” she demanded.

“Shawn Spencer, police psychic,” Shawn said, holding out his hand for her to shake.

She stared at it for a moment, and then replaced her lipstick and mirror into her purse. “Then I suppose you know why I’m here,” she said. “And that it’s not to meet you.”

Shawn stared at his hand where it hovered in the air for a moment, before lowering it back down. “No, you’re here for Lassiter,” he said.

“Very good,” she said. “I suppose you gathered that because I’m waiting at his desk?”

“I’m sensing some hostility,” Shawn said.

“I don’t believe in charlatans,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “My father spent every spare cent he had on them, and they never helped him one bit.”

“Your father just died recently, isn’t that right?” Shawn asked, noting the past tense and the hesitant way she spoke of him.

“Yes, but I’m sure you saw that in the papers like everyone else,” she said.

“I’m starting to get why you want to talk with Lassiter,” Shawn told her.

Ava suddenly broke into a startling and blinding smile that transformed her completely. Shawn was taken off guard for a moment, until she rushed past him and straight into Lassiter’s arms.

“Oh, Carlton,” she said, clinging onto him. “I’ve been so scared!”

Lassiter awkwardly patted her on the back, and said, “There, there.”

Shawn scrunched up his face in confusion as Lassiter carefully tried to get out of Ava’s clutches. He sat her down in the chair beside his desk, and she started crying almost at once. “I saw it on the news, Riner’s escaped and he killed that man. He’s going to come after me next!”

“He doesn’t have any reason to come after you,” Lassiter said reassuringly. “But I can assign a patrol to drive by your house, alright?”

“Oh, that would be wonderful,” she said. “I’m all alone now, it gets so lonely by myself, and I get scared at every little noise.”

Shawn watched her carefully, tilting his head. This was not the same Ava he had been speaking with a moment ago. He just didn’t know whether the act was to get protection from Lassiter or something else. “Ava,” Shawn said, stepping closer. “How much did you see the night of the murder?”

She glared daggers at him, and haughtily tossed back her hair. “I saw everything.”

“And was Riner there alone?” Shawn asked. Lassiter glared at him, but he ignored it.

“Yes, he was alone, the whole time, and he shot that guard, bam, in cold blood. I saw the whole thing.”

“So you actually saw Riner shoot Tim Daly?” Shawn asked.

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?” she demanded, before turning back to Lassiter. “Why is this man interrogating me? I’ve come here for help, not interrogation. I’ve told you all this before.”

Lassiter ushered Shawn to his desk chair. “Sit,” he said, before returning to Ava. “I’m very sorry about him. Why don’t you tell me why you’re so scared, okay?”

Ava reached out, and absentmindedly buttoned a loose cuff on Lassiter’s sleeve. Shawn glared at her as she did it. “He is out for revenge, yes? And I caught him. He would not have been in jail if not for me.”

Lassiter grabbed a business card off the stack on his desk. “Tell you what,” he said. “I want you to have this. It’s got my direct line. If you get scared at all, you can call me, okay?”

Ava nodded, wiping away her tears. She reached out and took the business card, and then she grabbed Lassiter’s cellphone from his desk. “I’ll give you mine, too,” she said, and entered her number into his phone. Lassiter took it back, bemused. “Then if you need anything, you can call me.”

Shawn rolled his eyes, and sunk further into the seat. As though she sensed it, Ava turned to glare at him. He smiled back sweetly.

Lassiter helped Ava up from the chair. “Let me walk you out,” he said, very gentlemanly, and led her out of the precinct, talking quietly with her all the while. Shawn strained to hear them, but couldn’t quite make out the words.

“She’s all wrong for you, you know,” Shawn said sullenly, when Lassiter returned.

Lassiter grabbed his arm to pull him back out of his chair, and sat down in his place. “It’s not like I’m planning on dating her, Spencer,” Lassiter snapped. “She’s a witness, and aside from that, she’s too young for me.”

“She’s only a couple of years younger than me,” Shawn protested, as he sat down on the edge of Lassiter’s desk.

“Then why don’t you date her?” Lassiter asked.

“She’s too high maintenance for my tastes, and anyway, she’s totally into you,” Shawn said.

“No she’s not,” Lassiter said patiently. “I was one of the first responders when the murder happened. I helped calm her down. She’s just thankful.”

“So she was pretty broken up about it then?” Shawn asked. “The murder?”

“She was very close to the guard,” Lassiter said. “They were good friends.”

“Well, that’s interesting, considering she doesn’t even remember his name,” Shawn said.

Lassiter paused. “What are you talking about?”

“The guard’s name was Avery Daily, not Tim Daly. Tim Daly played the uninteresting brother on Wings. Seriously, how do you not know this stuff?” Shawn picked up one of Lassiter’s business cards, read it front to back, and then stuck it down his front jeans pocket.

“So what, Spencer? So she forgot. It was years ago,” Lassiter said.

“If someone was murdered right in front of you, wouldn’t you remember their name?” Shawn asked. “Wouldn’t you care enough to do that much at least? I’m not ever going to forget Drimmer, and I didn’t even like him.”

Lassiter sighed, and leaned back in his chair. “Spencer, here’s a little life lesson. Most of these people are too involved with their own lives to care much about what happens to the people around them. Ava Dah-Ling isn’t going to win any awards for being the citizen of the year. She got her fifteen minutes of fame and went a little crazy with it. But she didn’t hurt anyone, and we don’t arrest people for being self-centered. If we did, I would have put you in jail years ago.”

“I think I’m actually offended by that,” Shawn said. “But you’re missing my point.”

“You have a point?” Lassiter asked.

“Yes, and my point is that she’s lying, it’s just a matter of about how much,” Shawn said.

“How do you figure that?” Lassiter asked incredulously.

“Because she said she saw Cyril shoot Daily,” Shawn said. “And Cyril didn’t shoot Daily. So. Lying.”

“Or,” Lassiter said wryly, “Cyril did shoot Daily, and that’s exactly what she saw.”

“Let’s just agree to disagree,” Shawn said, as he stood and started walking backwards towards the door. “I’ll be right, and you can be wrong.”

“Hey, back here,” Lassiter said. “You need to be debriefed.”

“I hope that’s not what it sounds like,” Shawn said. “Because it’s laundry day and I’m wearing my granny panties.”

Lassiter ignored him. “I haven’t had a chance to find out what happened after Riner left with you that night,” he said. “We’ve let you slide on the official questioning because of your status as a consultant, but we need to know what happened.”

“Last time I tried to tell you what happened, you told me never to say it again,” Shawn said.

Lassiter rubbed at his forehead and bit back another sigh. “Just stick to the facts, Spencer.”

“We drove off,” Shawn said. “Cyril recognized me, and wanted my help. I told him I needed Red Bull, so then we went to the Seven Eleven.”

“You went to Seven Eleven?” Lassiter asked.

“Yes, for Red Bull, please keep up,” Shawn said. “Then we went to the strip club.”

“And why did you go to the strip club?” Lassiter asked.

“Because we were looking for Mark Lyle,” Shawn said. “I knew he’d be there.”

“Of course you did,” Lassiter said. “And how was that?”

“Psychic,” Shawn said.

“Right, of course,” Lassiter said, with false patience. “And what happened when you got there?”

“I had a charming conversation with a beautiful young lady named Amelia, and then I got shot at, and thrown from a moving vehicle. It was only going like twenty miles per hour, but when I tell this story later I’m going to up it to at least forty-five.” Shawn looked at his feet thoughtfully. “Do you think I could sell fifty?”

“And did Cyril tell you how he escaped?” Lassiter asked.

“No,” Shawn said. “I told you, that came from you.”

“So basically you have nothing relevant to tell me,” Lassiter said.

“I wouldn’t say that in such general terms, because I know all kinds of relevant things,” Shawn said. “But if you’re specifically referring to the case, then yes. Pretty much.”

Lassiter watched him carefully. “What were you doing in that room?” he asked. “The one with my notes.”

“I was lost,” Shawn said.

“Psychics can get lost?” Lassiter asked.

“I know I make it look really effortless, but to be psychic is not to be all-knowing,” Shawn said. “We thought it was the bathroom.”

“You and Gus go to the bathroom together?” Lassiter asked.

“Sure. We like to gossip at the stalls,” Shawn said. “Girl talk, you know.”

“Uh huh,” Lassiter said. “Why are you so interested in Cyril’s escape? If you really think he’s innocent, then what does that part even matter?”

“It’s not that Cyril escaped that interests me,” Shawn said. “It’s how he did it.”

Lassiter leaned back in his chair, staring at the surface of his desk. “So is that it?” Shawn asked. “Are we debriefed?”

“You’re hiding something from me,” Lassiter said. “I want to know what.”

“I’ve told you everything,” Shawn said, and started back towards the door.

Lassiter stood up and followed him. “Spencer,” he said. “We’re not finished.”

“I answered your questions, I played along,” Shawn said. “But there’s nothing else that I can tell you, not unless you let me actually go start investigating.”

“You’re not working this case,” Lassiter snapped.

Shawn started down the front steps. “Not at the moment, no, because I’ve been rather selflessly devoting my time to entertaining you,” he said.

Lassiter grabbed his arm to swing him back around as he reached the bottom steps. “Spencer, have you learned nothing from what happened with Drimmer?”

“I learned you can’t even always trust cops,” Shawn said. “Although, to be fair to Drimmer, my father did a pretty good job of teaching me that too.”

“I told you before, I’m not anything like him,” Lassiter said.

“You’re the one that keeps bringing up the comparison,” Shawn said. Lassiter let go of Shawn’s arm, and he spun in place, feeling the hairs on his neck starting to stand up. He had that sudden cold feeling that people always get when they’re being watched. He glanced around, but there wasn’t anyone that he could see. There was a maroon Cadillac parked around the corner, but no one was inside.

“Spencer, look at me,” Lassiter snapped.

“We’re being watched,” Shawn told him.

“What?” Lassiter asked, one hand going to his holster automatically. He grabbed Shawn by the back of his shirt with this free hand and pushed him back towards the precinct. He may doubt Shawn’s every other word, but he knew better than to second-guess his instincts. “Back inside.”

Lassiter shoved Shawn onto the bench in the entryway and then held a whispered conversation with a couple of patrolmen, before sending them outside. He walked back over to Shawn. “They’re going to check around,” he said. “And you’re going to call Guster and have him come take you home.”

Shawn wanted to protest purely on principle, but the truth was he’d been planning on doing that anyway before Lassiter had chased him out the door. He pulled out the phone and dialed Gus’s number. Lassiter looked satisfied and headed back to his desk.

“Shawn?” Gus said at once. “What’s going on? I thought you would have called by now.”

“Lassiter’s been interrogating me,” Shawn said. “I’m at the station. Think you can swing by?”

“I’ll be there in seven minutes,” Gus said.

Shawn dropped the phone back in his pocket and got to his feet. He could feel Lassiter’s eyes boring into him, and made a point not to look his way. Shawn noticed the patrolmen return. Lassiter walked up to them, snapping out a, “report,” and Shawn discreetly slipped within hearing range.

“We didn’t see anything, sir,” one of them said. “Do you want us to keep looking?”

Lassiter was looking at Shawn when he answered. “No, that’s fine. Thank you.” He turned and walked back to his desk.

Gus was there a moment later, and the first thing he did was snatch the phone out of Shawn’s pocket. “I’ll be taking that back,” he said. “I hope you didn’t go over my minutes.”

“Stop trying to feel me up,” Shawn said.

Gus looked past him towards Lassiter, who had returned to his paperwork the moment he saw Gus come in. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Shawn said. “The usual. Let’s just go.”

“Are you okay?” Gus asked, as they headed out and got into the car. “Did you really call Cyril on my phone?”

“Don’t worry, Cyril’s phone can’t be traced, nothing could be proven,” Shawn said.

“That doesn’t make me feel better, Shawn,” Gus snapped.

Shawn was watching all the mirrors as they turned out into the road, and every few minutes he glanced behind them. “What’s the matter with you?” Gus asked. “You’re making me nervous.”

“I think we’re being followed,” Shawn said.

“What?” Gus demanded.

“Well, actually, I think I’m being followed,” Shawn said. “It’s just that you’re driving the car.”

“Shawn, I’m going back to the station,” Gus said.

“No, they’re too smart for that,” Shawn said, squinting back into the rearview. “Whoever it is avoided the patrol Lassie sent out to find them.”

The car behind them was a Beetle, not exactly the recommended choice for surveillance, but Shawn spotted the same maroon Cadillac from earlier, and it was always staying two or three cars behind, steadily following their every direction. “Got you,” Shawn whispered. “Pull over, Gus.”

“What? No way, Shawn,” Gus said. “We’re being stalked. You don’t get out of the car. I’m sure there’s a rule about that.”

“There’s not a rule about it,” Shawn said. “Pull over.”

Gus was glaring at him, but he did it. Shawn watched as the maroon Cadillac pulled out of traffic and parked along the sidewalk about twenty-five feet behind them. He opened the door and hopped out of the car.

“Shawn! Shawn, get back here,” Gus said, unsnapping his seatbelt and reluctantly following him out.

Shawn approached the car cautiously, eyes tracking the man in the driver’s seat. He was wearing a blue baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, and Shawn had the worst feeling that he knew exactly who it was. He stepped up to the driver’s side door and slapped a hand twice down on the window.

The window rolled down and the man looked up, tilting the hat back further on his head. “Shawn.”

“Dad?” Shawn said, disbelieving. “You got a rental so you could spy on me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Shawn, the car belongs to a friend,” Henry told him. “Guy owed me a favor.”

“Seek help,” Shawn told him. “You’ve finally lost your mind!”

“I know exactly what I’m doing, you’re the one I’m worried about. And the fact that you ran right over here without knowing who I was just goes to prove any point I was going to make,” Henry snapped. “I could have been some psycho!”

“Don’t sell yourself short, dad,” Shawn said.

Henry opened the door, climbing out of the car angrily. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“There are less creepy ways to go about it!” Shawn snapped. “You could remind me to wear sunblock, and to always have a coat, like a normal parent.”

“And you could be a normal kid, so those could be my biggest worries,” Henry said.

“I hate to tell you this, dad, but if you wanted a normal kid,” Shawn said, “you went about it all wrong.”

“When are you going to stop blaming me for everything?” Henry demanded. “I should call Vick up right now, and end this little charade once and for all.”

“But you won’t,” Shawn said. “Or you would have done it already.”

“Yeah, okay, just cause you’re so damn smart, Shawn, I’ll give you that one. You want to know why? You want to know what happens if you get revealed as a fake?” Henry demanded. “Every single guy you helped put away gets an appeal. And unlike you, I actually think about the consequences of something before I do it.”

“I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that you’re covering your own ass,” Shawn said.

“No, Shawn, it didn’t,” Henry snapped. “Because if I could get you out of this mess you’ve gotten yourself into without destroying all these people around us, I’d do it in a heartbeat, and to hell with what it would do to me.”

“I’m not listening to this,” Shawn said, throwing up his arms. “Seriously, dad, get yourself a hobby.”

Shawn spun on his heel and went back to Gus’s Echo. At some point, Gus had returned to the car, and when Shawn tried to open the door, it was locked. He tapped on the glass, but Gus was avoiding meeting his eyes. He rolled the window down all of half an inch.

“Gus, open the door,” Shawn said.

“Go talk with your father, Shawn,” Gus said, and started the car.

“Gus! Gus, don’t you dare leave me here,” Shawn said. “Open this door, Gus. Gus! Gus!”

“I know better than to get in the middle of this,” Gus told him, and then hit the gas and sped away.

Shawn pushed himself back a few steps to avoid being run down, and then turned back to look over at his father. Henry was leaning back against the driver’s side of the car, arms crossed and looking only slightly smug.

“Did you need a ride?” he asked.

Shawn stared at his father for a moment, leaning against that borrowed Cadillac in his blue baseball hat. Then he laughed and started heading down the road. “Thanks,” he said. “But I think I’ll walk.”

Henry pushed off the car to follow him. “Where are you going, Shawn?”

“I’ve got a case to solve,” he said. “Remember? That thing you taught me how to do?”

“Just get in the car,” Henry snapped. “We can talk about this.”

Shawn stopped and turned back around. “Don’t you mean you can talk about this? Because that’s how it goes, right? You tell me what I should be doing with my life, because obviously, you know best.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Henry snapped. “Is that what you want me to say?”

“For which part?” Shawn demanded. “For threatening to end my career, for the stalking, or for never believing in me in the first place?”

“I’m only trying to protect you,” Henry said. “And I’ve always known the person I had to protect you from the most was yourself. Ever since you were six years old and jumped off the roof to try and fly.”

“You’re going to hold that against me, too?” Shawn asked, and started crossing the street.

Henry grabbed his arm and forcefully tugged him back, just as a car sped by them. “Stay out of the damn road,” he shouted.

Shawn watched the taillights of the car disappear dispassionately. “I saw it,” he said. “It would have missed me.”

“Because you know everything, right?” Henry said. “And you’re invincible. Is that what you think?”

“Life wouldn’t be any fun if you were invincible,” Shawn said. “But that doesn’t mean you stand by and watch the world go by. If anyone understands that, it’s you. You used to do what I’m doing for a living.”

“I never did what you do,” Henry said. “I followed protocol.”

“Would it really make that much difference to you?” Shawn demanded. “If I’d done it. If I’d gone through the academy and gotten a badge and a gun and the uniform and all of it, would it really make that much of a difference?”

“I came to terms with the fact that that wasn’t ever going to happen a long time ago, Shawn,” Henry said.

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Shawn said.

“Yeah,” Henry said. “Yeah, it would make a difference, Shawn, because I don’t like that you think you can do this job without it. The badge, and the gun, and all that comes with it, that’s supposed to be there to protect you.”

“I can do this job just fine without it,” Shawn said. “Better, even.”

“For how long?” Henry demanded. “How long until you misjudge something, Shawn, and the only back up you’ve got is Gus? How long until you get yourself killed because you missed something or even just because you figured it out, and you go barreling into the middle of things the way you always do?”

“Is that really what’s bothering you?” Shawn asked, like he almost couldn’t believe it. He’d expected his father to go on and on about the honor to serve, the good SBPD name, the way he was dragging it all through the mud. He didn’t know what to do with the fact that his father was actually worried.

“Please just get in the car, Shawn,” Henry said.

If it had been a demand, Shawn would have kept walking. But it sounded more like a plea, or anyway as close to it as Henry could get, so after a brief hesitation he got in the car.

He slumped into the passenger seat while his father got in to drive, and turned to look out the window. “So how long have you been following me?” he asked.

Henry cleared his throat. “Since I saw you on TV,” he said. “I got the feeling that you weren’t going to stop working this case.”

“I thought that was clear when I told you that I wasn’t going to stop working this case,” Shawn said.

Henry looked over at him. “You really know this guy is innocent?” he asked.

“Yes,” Shawn said. “Murderers don’t take hostages with empty guns, they don’t try and clear their names. If he’d left the country right after he escaped he could be sipping Mai Tai’s in Tahiti by now, but he didn’t.”

Henry’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, but he nodded. “Okay, then,” he said. “What can I do to help?”

Shawn looked confused. “I don’t understand the question,” he said.

Henry sighed deeply. “I’m offering an olive branch here, okay?” he said. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

“I thought your philosophy was if you can’t beat ‘em, throw them in jail,” Shawn said. “Turn here, I need to go to the office.”

Henry made the turn, and kept his eyes on the road. “The sooner we get this figured out, the sooner we’ve got another person off the street that wants to kill you.”

“They haven’t come after me at all,” Shawn said. “The only guy that did come after me was the innocent one.”

“Yet, Shawn,” Henry said. “But if Riner really didn’t kill Lyle, then that means someone’s covering their tracks, and they’re not going to want you around when you figure this all out.”

“How do you know about Lyle?” Shawn demanded.

“Maybe I’m psychic too,” Henry said. “Or maybe I’ve still got a friend or two on the force.”

“Right,” Shawn said. “Well, you might be right. I’ve suspected for awhile that Lyle wasn’t working this alone. He just didn’t seem smart enough.”

“So you’ve overlooked something,” Henry said.

Shawn glared at him for a moment and shook his head. “I haven’t overlooked anything, I just don’t have the whole picture yet. Cyril’s been lying to me,” he explained.

Henry snorted. “He kidnapped you, which you’re fine with, but the lying bothers you?”

“Yes, because the lying doesn’t make sense,” Shawn said. “I already know he didn’t kill that guard, so what is he trying to hide?”

“Maybe he did do it,” Henry said simply.

Shawn shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t kill anyone. Cyril told me he was caught by Ava because he was checking to see if Daily was still alive, and all the testimony seems to support it. If he’d killed that guard in cold-blood like everyone says, he would have run out of there just as fast as Lyle.”

“But you said it yourself, he’s hiding something,” he said. “I heard you figured out how escaped. Glen Reed-Fry, wasn’t it?”

“You’re like a crime gossip,” Shawn said. “What, do you and your buddies in blue call each other every five minutes?”

“Focus, Shawn,” Henry said.

“I already know why he lied about Fred Greenly and the escape. He was protecting his friend,” Shawn said. “That part I understand. He told me Greenly was dead because legally he is. Fred Greenly created a new identity for himself. But there’s something else about what he told me that’s not adding up. Lassiter’s research paints a very different picture of Cyril than what I’ve seen.”

“I thought you knew you were right about Riner,” Henry said.

“I am, I am right that he’s not a killer,” Shawn said. “But still, I kind of keep forgetting that Lassiter’s not all wrong about him, either.”

”What do you mean?” Henry asked.

“Cyril’s not a murderer, but he is a thief,” Shawn said. “He’s a con-man. And he’s been conning me this whole time, only telling me what he wants me to know.”

“Then you’d better figure out what it is he’s not telling you,” Henry said.

Shawn gave his father an irritated sideways glance. “I thought you didn’t even want me involved?” he said.

“You’ve already gotten yourself involved whether I want it or not,” Henry snapped, as he pulled to a stop in front of the Psych office. “I’d just as soon you knew what it was you were facing.”

“You still think Cyril might be dangerous?” Shawn asked.

“I think if it’s not him, it’s going to be someone else,” Henry said. “Now, what are we doing here? You need to do more research?”

“No, but Gus threw out all my Red Bull, and I keep a spare case of it here,” Shawn told him, before getting out of the car and heading to the door of the office.

Henry groaned and slammed out of the car behind him. “Shawn!” he snapped. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough of that garbage?”

“I’m not going to stand for that kind of blasphemy,” Shawn said, as he pulled out his keys to unlock the office. “Anyway, I just need one little can, just a little pick-me-up.”

“You sound like an addict,” Henry said disapprovingly. “You used to get like this on a Pixy Stix too.”

“When sugar and caffeine become illegal, then you can stage your intervention,” Shawn told him. He entered the office and went straight to the small kitchen at the back. He pulled the case of Red Bull out happily, and then frowned at how light it was. He looked inside. The cans had all been opened and emptied. There was a note sitting on top in Gus’s handwriting.

Got Milk? Because it’s better for you.

“Gus is getting devious,” Shawn said with admiration. “I think after all these years he’s finally catching on.” Then he frowned. “But why did he have to start now? I really needed a Red Bull.”

“You’ll live,” Henry said wryly. He saw the answering machine blinking a ‘1’ on Gus’s desk, and reached out to press it. “You’ve got a message,” he said.

“Shawn.” The voice was breathless and very very female. Henry’s eyebrow raised in question and Shawn frowned as he recognized who it was. “I hope this message gets to you, I looked you up in the phone book and it was the only one I could find. Cyril wants me to do something for him, and I don’t know if I should. Please, Shawn, I need your help. I don’t know who to trust.”

“Who was that?” Henry asked.

Shawn dropped the empty Red Bull and started for the door. “Amelia,” he said.

Henry grabbed him before he could go by. “She sounded scared,” he said. “We’ve got to call the police. Where is she?”

“I can handle this myself,” Shawn said. “Cyril wouldn’t hurt her.”

Henry glared at him. “I know you’re willing to take this kind of chance with your own life, but what about hers?”

Shawn pulled away and crossed his arms. “She’d be at the Hottie Tottie Tavern,” he said, after a moment. Henry picked up the phone to call the station.

x x x x x x

It took Shawn so long to convince his father that they needed to go to the Hottie Tottie Tavern too, that the police had easily beat them there. He saw one black and white with the red and blue lights still flashing, and an unmarked Crown Vick was parked right in front. Amelia was sitting in the passenger seat wrapped in a blanket, and Lassiter was handing her a water bottle.

The regulars looked as unmoved by the commotion as they had when Shawn had been hauled off by the ambulance. Shawn got out of the car, and his father followed his every move. Shawn was starting to get an eye twitch from his constant close proximity.

He stopped in front of Amelia, ignoring Lassiter for the moment. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded, taking a sip of the water. “Yes, I only saw him for a moment, it really doesn’t require such a fuss.”

“Riner’s dangerous,” Lassiter said. “You did the right thing asking for help.” He glanced at Shawn. “And you did the right thing calling us.”

Shawn saw a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of his eye. Juliet came over, and smiled briefly at Shawn. “It looks like the lock might have been tampered with on the backdoor,” she said. “Amelia, is that how he got in?”

“He didn’t come in,” Amelia said. “I told you, he stopped me on my way in and was just asking if I could give him some money.”

Lassiter frowned, but nodded to Juliet. “Let’s have a look at it, anyway. He might have tried breaking in first.”

Lassiter and Juliet headed off and Amelia bit her lip carefully. Shawn narrowed his eyes. “Cyril didn’t ask you for any money, did he?” he asked.

She shook her head, and leaned past him to look at Henry. “Hi,” she said carefully.

Henry nodded briefly, before returning to scanning the area for any threat.

“Don’t mind him,” Shawn said, gesturing behind him. “That’s just my bodyguard, Biff Tannen. You want to give us a moment alone, Biff?”

“Shawn,” Henry snapped.

“Just stand over there by the car,” Shawn said. “This place is crawling with cops. What do you think is going to happen?”

Henry glared at him but walked back towards the car. “Sorry about that,” Shawn said.

Amelia sighed. “I didn’t mean for all this to happen,” she said. “I didn’t want to get him into trouble, but I wasn’t sure if I could trust him.”

Shawn nodded. “You did the right thing to call me,” he said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have come alone, but I wasn’t the only one who heard your message.”

Amelia nodded understandably. “Biff heard it too, huh?”

Shawn nodded. “Yeah, but I think maybe he was right to want to call the police. You look a little shaken up.”

“I’m okay,” she said tiredly. “I think it’s time for a change, though.”

“You’ve decided to quit working here and join Greenpeace in their effort to save the whales?” Shawn asked.

“No,” she said. “I’m still going to work here. The tips are awesome.”

“Oh.”

“Mostly I was thinking of cutting my hair short or something,” she said.

“Well, that’s a good idea too,” Shawn said.

She smiled slightly, and pulled the blanket tighter around her. “Did Cyril really kidnap you?” she asked.

“Only technically,” Shawn said. “I don’t think he would have hurt you though. What did he really want?”

“He stopped me when I was coming in,” she said. “He wanted me to get something for him.” She grabbed Shawn by his belt loop and tugged him closer, sticking her hand down his pants again. Shawn frowned as he felt something hard and square get wedged between his waistband and his hip, and Amelia pulled away again, so effortless he doubted anyone had seen a thing.

“That’s what he wanted,” she whispered. “That’s what Cyril wanted me to get for him. I didn’t want to give it to the police, not without knowing what it is.”

Shawn nodded. “I don’t think I want to know where you had that hidden,” he said. “But where did you find it?”

“It was hidden under the stage,” she said. “Lodged behind a loose panel.”

“Spencer!” Lassiter shouted.

Shawn winced, and Amelia leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re alright,” she said, glancing around to make sure they were still alone. Lassiter was heading in their direction, but still a few feet away. “And I hope Cyril’s okay, too.”

“Spencer,” Lassiter said again, putting a hand on each of his shoulders to usher him away. “A moment, please.”

Shawn waved goodbye to Amelia. “I never pegged you for the jealous type,” Shawn told him. “You have nothing to worry about, Amelia and I are just friends.”

“What?” Lassiter asked. “No, that’s not-”

“I didn’t realize you two were together!” Amelia said, leaning forward out of the car. “That was a totally platonic kind of kiss, I promise! And I’m sorry about the lap dance!”

“Never apologize for the lap dance,” Shawn told her. “You are very talented and Lassiter understands.”

“We’re not dating,” Lassiter snapped.

“We talked about this in therapy, Lassie,” Shawn said. “Denial is not the answer.”

Lassiter grabbed Shawn’s arm and dragged him further away, out of earshot of stripper witnesses or anyone else. Shawn took advantage of the closeness to bump into him, slipping his hand in Lassiter’s jacket and right back out again, picking it without his noticing.

“What are you doing here?” Lassiter demanded. “And why is your father here glaring at me?”

Shawn glanced back towards his father, slipping Lassiter’s phone into his pocket. Henry had his arms crossed and was looking in their direction. “That’s not glaring,” he said. “My father always looks like that.”

Lassiter shook his head. “But why is he here?”

“He’s stalking me,” Shawn said. “I’d file a restraining order, but honestly, I don’t think it’d do a bit of good.”

Lassiter reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Spencer,” he started. “I told you to stay out of this. Guster was supposed to take you home.”

“Hey, I was all for that plan,” Shawn said. “But he drove off without me, so I got stuck with my dad.”

“Well, whatever,” Lassiter said. “What I’m trying to say is that you need to leave. So go.”

“Okay, but only because you asked so nicely,” Shawn said. “First I have a question.”

“Fine,” Lassiter said.

“Cyril used to be a construction worker,” he said. “You wouldn’t happen to know where it was he worked, would you?”

“Here, actually,” Lassiter said. “He was working on some remodeling, they were changing their theme from Tiki Hut to Vegas or something, and I guess they never quite finished after he was arrested. I’d forgotten all about it until we had to come back here to get you.”

“And you didn’t think that worth mentioning?” Shawn demanded.

“You couldn’t just read my mind?” Lassiter asked. “What’s the point of you being psychic if I have to tell you everything anyway?”

“Aha!” Shawn said. “So you admit I’m psychic.”

“No,” Lassiter said. “Any more questions?”

“Yes,” Shawn said. “Do you have any Red Bull?”

Lassiter heaved a sigh and walked away. “Get out of here, Spencer.”

“Why does no one have any Red Bull?” Shawn yelled after him.

“Shawn, come on,” Henry snapped.

Shawn trudged back over to the Cadillac and dropped back down into the passenger seat. “What was that all about?” his father demanded, as he started the car.

“I just wanted to make sure she was alright,” Shawn said.

“I meant with you and Lassiter,” Henry said.

Shawn leaned back and closed his eyes. “Nothing’s going on with me and Lassiter. He just wanted us to leave.”

Shawn kept running everything he knew about this case through his mind. Nothing fit together quite right. He pulled what Amelia had given him out of his waistband. It was a small metal box. There didn’t seem to be a lid. He spun it in his hands. It looked like a solid cube, but it rattled when he shook it.

“What’s that?” Henry asked.

“Tic Tacs,” Shawn said, and put it in his pocket. He sunk back in the seat again and closed his eyes. The next time he opened them the clock read twenty minutes later, and he realized he was heading towards his father’s house. He sat up and frowned out the window. “You’re going the wrong way,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m going to let you stay alone at your apartment with a murderer on the loose,” Henry said.

“Well, good, but if you’re going to do that you’re going the wrong way,” Shawn said.

“You’re coming home with me,” Henry said. “At least until this is over.”

When they stopped at a red light Shawn reached for the door handle, but his father was quicker, and he engaged the child safety locks. Shawn tried the handle a few times, but there wasn’t any give. He sat back in the seat in an irritated huff.

“First stalking, and now kidnapping?” Shawn asked. “I’m telling mom on you.”

Henry snorted. “Yeah, I’d like to see you try to explain this to her, she’d guilt you back into therapy so fast your head would spin.”

“If my head was spinning, then I’d probably need therapy,” Shawn said. “Or possibly an exorcist.”

“You know it’s true,” Henry said.

“Mom knows better than to try and guilt me into therapy,” Shawn said dryly. “The last time she tried I started helping the guy diagnose his other patients.”

Henry shook his head. “At least he didn’t charge us for it,” he said.

“Of course he didn’t. If anything, I should have charged him for my services,” Shawn said. “A ten year old could have done a better job than that quack.”

“You were ten years old,” Henry said.

“Well, there you go,” Shawn said. “You’ve proven my point.”

Henry rolled his eyes as he pulled to a stop in his driveway. “Can you please just humor me this once?” he asked.

“But I use humor on you all the time,” Shawn protested. “You just don’t ever appreciate it properly.”

Henry got out and slammed the door, and Shawn followed him inside to the kitchen just to humor him. He was spinning the small metal box in his hand, as his father moved to the cupboards. “You want something?” he asked.

“Red Bull?” Shawn asked hopefully.

“The closest you’re going to get to that in this house is a rare steak,” Henry said wryly. He frowned as he saw what Shawn was spinning in his hand. “What is that?”

“This? Nothing,” Shawn said, but Henry had already made a grab for it.

“Shawn, where did you get this?” he demanded, looking down at it, spinning it carefully around.

Shawn grabbed it back. “From Amelia,” he said.

Henry crossed his arms. “This is what Cyril wanted her to do, isn’t it?” he demanded. “Get this for him? You should have handed this over to the police!”

“It could be anything!” Shawn said. “You don’t just hand things over without knowing what they are. That’s irresponsible.”

“Shawn-” Henry started.

“This is how I work,” Shawn said. “So you can either help me get it open, or I can leave.”

“Alright, fine, Shawn, have it your way,” Henry snapped. “But as soon as we know what it is, we’re going straight to the police, agreed?”

“Fine, whatever,” Shawn said, looking down at the box. “Do you have something we can use to open it?”

“Yeah, let me check the basement, give me a minute,” Henry said. He opened the basement door and went down the stairs.

Shawn studied the box carefully, holding the top and bottom with two fingers he slide the sides, and they moved with a click. It was a puzzle box. Shawn moved it again, and again, before putting it back one. He kept turning it in all directions, listening for a click, and then it snapped open, unfolding like a flower. He dropped it on the kitchen table a fairly good-sized blue diamond went rolling across the surface.

He reached and caught it before it could roll off the side, and then turned, about to shout to his father not to bother. Something stopped him from saying anything, and he snuck over to the doorway, leaning over to look down. His father was sorting through boxes, grumbling to himself, and almost without thinking, Shawn grabbed the edge of the door and pushed it shut.

He heard his father’s angry shout, and then turned the lock. A moment later, the knob was spinning from the other side, without any luck. “Shawn!” Henry shouted. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m really sorry about this!” Shawn said through the door. “But I can’t have you following me around all the time, and you always ruin my big reveals!”

Henry pounded on the door. “Shawn! Unlock this door.”

“I won’t be gone long!” Shawn said. “Forty minutes, tops! Sometimes I solve cases even faster than that. I could be back in a half hour if all goes well!”

Shawn pulled out the phone he’d borrowed from Lassiter and went out the front door, dialing Gus and ignoring his father’s threats. “Gus!” he said happily when his friend answered.

“Shawn?” Gus said warily. “How’s it going?”

“Fine, everything’s fine, my dad and I totally worked everything out,” he said. “He actually helped me with a huge break in the case. Can you swing by?”

“Sure, I’ll be there,” Gus said. “You’re at your dad’s?”

”Yep, meet me up front,” Shawn said.

“I’ll be right there,” Gus said, before hanging up.

Shawn was sitting on the front step when Gus got there. Gus came around the side of the house, looking wary. There was a half-hearted pounding from his father, and Gus frowned. “What’s that?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Shawn said quickly. “Everything’s fine here. My dad’s taking his nap. You know old people and their naps.”

“Oh,” Gus said. “So you’re not mad at me? I kind of thought you would be.”

“Why would I be mad at you?” Shawn asked.

“You know, for leaving you in the middle of the road,” he said. “I just thought you should talk to your father, or things would only get worse.”

“You were totally right,” Shawn said. “We’ve got everything worked out.”

There was more of the strange thumping noise, and Gus spun in place. “Are you sure you don’t hear anything?” Gus demanded.

“Not a thing,” Shawn said.

Gus frowned, but nodded. He pulled a phone from his jacket pocket and held it out. “I got you a new phone,” he said. “As a kind of peace offering. And also so you’ll stop stealing mine.”

“That was very thoughtful of you, Gus, but I already have Lassiter’s phone, and I don’t really need two,” Shawn said.

“Why do you have Lassiter’s phone, Shawn?” Gus demanded.

“Because I stole it out of his pocket. And do you know who put her name in this phone?” Shawn asked. “Little Miss Dah-Ling. Can you believe that? The nerve. Lassie doesn’t even have my number in here. Well, unless that’s me listed under Pain In The Ass.” Shawn grinned. “Hey, it is me!”

“That’s great, Shawn,” Gus said. “But what does this have to with anything?”

“I just don’t trust her,” Shawn said. “Also, she was mean to me.”

Gus snorted. “Well, she probably won’t be around to bother you much longer,” he said.

Shawn frowned. “Why do you say that?” he asked.

“I’ve been doing a little more advanced Googling. Seems her father died a few weeks back, she sold the Store-It-Yourself before they even held the funeral,” he said. “My guess is she’s going to be heading out.”

“Why?”

“In every interview she ever gave, she said she always planned on getting as far from here as she could,” Gus said.

“Huh,” Shawn said.

“So is this your big break in the case?” Gus asked. “Because it sounds to me like this is just your weird little crush on Lassiter acting up again.”

“Well, I’ve also got this,” Shawn said, and tossed the diamond to Gus.

Gus caught it and stared at it with huge eyes. “Where did you get this, Shawn? This is one of the rarest types of diamond there is!” he shouted. “This looks like the real deal. A genuine natural blue diamond.”

“They can’t be that rare,” Shawn protested. “I saw some of these just a little while ago.”

“What you saw were probably fakes, Shawn,” Gus said, self-importantly. “I seriously doubt there’s more than five of these in Santa Barbara at any given time.”

“I bet you’re wrong about that,” Shawn said, taking the diamond back and sticking it in his pocket. “I bet there’s 700,000 dollars worth.”

“If they’re anything like the size of this one, that would be less than five of them,” Gus said. “Most people go their whole lives without ever laying eyes on a real blue diamond. The majority of them you do see are synthetic.”

“If they’re so rare, why wasn’t this ever mentioned in the papers?” Shawn asked, as he started to walk around the house to Gus’s car.

“There was no reason to give a detailed account of what was stolen to the public,” Gus said, following him. “They probably never released that information to the media. It was also strange they never mentioned the name of the owner. Maybe it was a privacy thing.”

“And no one ever connected it to the Dah-Ling murder anyway,” Shawn said thoughtfully.

“Except you,” Gus said. “Are you sure about that, by the way?”

“Like 97%,” Shawn said. “And if I’m right, then I know who our killer is.”

“Who?” Gus demanded.

“It’s-” Shawn broke off at a girly scream from Gus, and spun around just in time to see his foot get pulled out from under him so that he did a belly flop onto the grass. Shawn followed the hand wrapped around Gus’s ankle to the little basement window at the bottom edge of the house, and looked down to see half his father’s face.

“Oh my god!” Gus shouted. “It’s got me! It’s got me! It’s Pennywise, isn’t it? I told you It was real!”

“Calm down, Gus,” Shawn said. “It’s just my dad. The clowns haven’t gotten you yet.”

“Shawn!” his father snapped. “You get back in here and open this door right now!”

“Mr. Spencer?” Gus said, confused. He tried to look behind him, but the hand around his ankle was locked in a death grip.

Shawn reached down to pick up the car keys that had flown out of Gus’s hand, before quickly backing out of reach. “Sorry, Gus, looks like I’m going to have to leave you behind.”

“Shawn, don’t you dare!” Gus shouted, trying to hold onto the grass as Henry tugged on his foot.

“Shawn!” Henry shouted. “You get your ass back here!”

“But I solved the case, there’s no time to waste!” Shawn told them. “Stay strong, Gus!”

“Shawn!” Gus shouted. “Shawn, quit messing around! Shawn!”

Shawn hopped into the Echo and went screeching out of the driveway, pulling onto the road and gunning it for the station. He only felt slightly bad for the chaos he had left behind him, considering the circumstances.

Because Gus deserved it for stranding him with his father in the first place, and his father deserved it for walking into a room that locked from the outside while Shawn was on the other side of it. That was just asking for it.

Henry had probably wanted Shawn to lock him in the basement.

on to part five

slash, dah-ling, psych, shawn/lassiter

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