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 Murder and Mayhem and Monopoly, Oh My!, Rating= K+ Genre=General/Mystery
Posted: Aug 20 2007, 12:08 AM

Unemployed Observer

Group: Members
Posts: 3
Member No.: 63
Joined: 19-August 07

Title: Murder and Mayhem and Monopoly, Oh My!

Author: greenrandomness

Rating: K+

Warnings: Mild violence and some disturbing images

Summary: A robbery and murder occur inside the Santa Barbara Police Department while multiple officers are present. Shawn and Gus try to find out who did it, and how.

Authors Note: Hey! This is my first Psych fan fiction, and I just hope it turns out well. The title is similar to a lot of the episodes titles, which means it is a bit odd, a little confusing, and it won’t make sense until later. The story itself will be in 6 parts, which are all now written, just not typed out

Also I would like to say now that I am taking some liberties with the layout of the police department, and with some technology…because I honestly don’t know if some stuff I say would even work.

Disclaimer: Only the story line and any characters you don’t recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.

Chapter 1- Tag You’re It!


A young Shawn Spencer slowly crept down the stairs, expertly avoiding the creaking step at the bottom, he made it to the wood floor without a sound. Pausing momentarily, he glanced around suspiciously. His hazel eyes roamed the entire area; he couldn’t get caught. Sliding along the smooth wall like his father had taught him, he had made it half way to the kitchen before he paused again.

A sound, he looked up at the ceiling and held his breath. Each second felt like an eternity, but after only three such seconds he let his breath out in a relieved sigh. He could still hear his father hammering away at the broken railing of the porch. He was safe for a little while longer. Glancing at the clock above the stove, Shawn noticed that it was 7:25; his bus would be arriving at any moment.

Sprinting to the kitchen table, he threw caution out the window, and grabbed his father’s wallet. Pulling a crisp five-dollar bill out from the leather, he swiftly moved to put it into the back pocket of his jeans. Unfortunately, before it reached its destination he was smoothly turned to face the opposite direction.

“Uh…Hi dad…” He smiled. The look on his face was purely angelic, but the open wallet in his left hand, and the five in his right hand, was enough to condemn even the most saintly of children, and Shawn had a record of being anything but saintly.

“Shawn, what do you think you’re doing?” Henry demanded; his voice carefully controlled…for the moment.

“Well…would you believe that the money put itself in my hand?” He asked hopefully, but all he got in return was a straight face and an outstretched palm. Handing the money and wallet back to his father, Shawn averted his eyes from the pale blue ones staring at him.

“Why were you trying to steal from me, you know— ” The loud honk of the school bus outside, interrupted Henry’s reprimand, and Shawn smiled again. Grabbing his backpack from the floor, he started to run to the door, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him mid stride.

Looking up into the still smoldering eyes of his dad, Shawn said, “I have to go dad, that’s the bus.” Trying to pull away again, he was once again stopped short.

“I’ll drive you today.” Henry responded smugly, and as if on queue the bus pulled away, leaving a desperate Shawn staring after it wistfully through the window. Henry grabbed his car keys from the counter and walked the rest of the way to the door with Shawn following hesitantly behind him.

Once they were on the road Henry asked his son once again why he had tried to steal from him.

“I had a good reason! I swear dad, you know I wouldn’t—” Shawn babbled only stopping when his father put his hand up.

“There is no good reason to steal.” He looked over at his son, “What you are going to tell me is an excuse.”

“Dad, I took your money because a friend on mine needed it. Her dad got fired, and she hasn’t had lunch money for the past week!” He stared at his father pleadingly; surely that was good enough reason. It was to help someone, not to buy a game, or to spend on candy, how could his father be angry with him when it was for someone else.

“Shawn, no matter what the reason, stealing is wrong. I understand that you wanted to help your friend, but you went about it the wrong way.” Henry explained, but his son soon cut him off.

“But dad—” Shawn began.

“No buts, Shawn.” He interrupted, “Have you ever heard of doing the wrong thing for the right reason?”

“Um…no…?” Shawn replied with uncertainty. He looked through the window, if he tried hard enough he could just barely see the brick of his school around the corner; he was almost free.

“Doing something for a good reason doesn’t automatically make it good. Most of the time, you can even reach the same goal by doing the right thing.” He explained as he pulled into the school parking lot.

“Dad…”Shawn tried to interrupt, but his dad continued anyways.

“There better not be a repeat of this incident…no matter what the reason.” He continued, locking the doors when Shawn tried to get out.

“Dad I’m—” Shawn began again with pleading eyes.

“Shawn, you can have the five dollars that you took,” Henry said, pulling it out of his wallet, “because I would have given it to you if you would have asked,” He explained holding it out to his son. As Shawn reached for it he pulled it back, just out of his reach. “But, you are officially grounded for the next two weeks.” Henry concluded, placing the money in his son’s small hand.

“But dad!” Shawn cried indignantly, drowning out the sound of the doors unlocking.

“Go on, or you’ll be late for school.” He replied, dismissing Shawn firmly.

Angrily grabbing the door handle, Shawn threw it open, and stormed out the car. Glancing back over his shoulder, he stomped up to the building and through the doors.

Present day

Throwing open the doors, Shawn flamboyantly entered the police station, with Gus trailing slowly behind him.

“Good morning! And what a fine morning it is, wouldn’tcha say Gus?” Shawn smiled happily at Gus, who just stared back.

“You do realize that it is pitch black outside.” Gus stated gesturing to the window, which true to his word was almost completely lacking light. “It’s practically hurricane weather out there, and you think it’s a ‘fine morning’!” Gus exclaimed, staring at Shawn incredulously.

“You’re just cranky because we had some trouble getting here.” He replied, crossing his arms.

“Trouble? Trouble?” Gus nearly screamed, leaning in closer to Shawn. “You call having a falling tree nearly hit my car ‘some trouble’!” He harshly whispered as he realized that the entire station was staring at them.

“Yes, yes I do Gus, and do you want to know why?” Shawn baited him, obviously not caring that the entire station was watching, or maybe that was how he liked it.

Sighing, Gus played along, “Sure, Shawn. Why.”

“Because we didn’t get hit!” He cried as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I give up, Shawn. I really do. I just give up.” Gus fell into an unoccupied chair, and tried not to imagine how close they had come to being just another accident article in the newspaper.

Shawn began to meander around the station, greeting everyone he passed. Suddenly he stopped and yelled, “Tom!” running up to a tall man somewhere in his early 50’s, “It’s been months since I last saw you!”

“Hey, Shawn.” He smiled pleasantly while arranging some files on his desk, “How’ve things been?”

“Great, great.” Shawn replied readily, bouncing on his heels, “ How’s your wife, I heard she was sick?” He asked sobering up almost immediately.

“She’s been better, but at least now she’s with the family. She’s being cared for at home…as long as our insurance holds up.” He sighed, but soon brightened as a young man carrying a khaki messenger bag walked up. He pulled him over, and put his arm over his shoulder, “Shawn, I would like you to meet my nephew Mark, he just graduated the academy.”

“Nice to meet you,” Shawn replied sticking out his hand, “I’m Shawn Spencer, the departments psychic consultant.”

Shaking his hand readily, Mark replied, “Mark Spies…psychic consultant…I didn’t know they had one.”

“Oh they do, and I just happen to be him,” Smiling again, Shawn withdrew his hand, “So Mark, how’s cop life treating you? Have you met Lassie yet?”

“Good…and I’m guessing you aren’t referring to the collie?” Mark inquired, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair.

“There’s a collie named Lassie?” Shawn asked, quirking an eyebrow, but before Mark could answer a loud boom sounded, and the lights flickered off.

“What was that?” Gus asked coming up behind Shawn.

“Ah!” Shawn screamed, before turning around “Don’t do that, man! Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘never sneak up on a psychic.’?”

“I thought that was ‘never wake up a sleep walker’? Gus replied.

“Well…” Shawn started, but was interrupted by the chief.

“I need someone to go check out the fuse box.” Interim Chief Vick announced to the almost completely dark room. Only a few flashlights, and the emergency lighting brightened the area.

“I’ll do it Chief.” Tom announced, borrowing a flashlight from a nearby officer.

“Thank you Sergeant Quinn. Take someone with you just incase.” Karen Vick instructed, watching as he complied readily, bringing his nephew along with him.

Soon they were down the hallway and out of sight, leaving the rest of the station to try and carry on their business without lights. Shawn, seeing his opportunity, grabbed Gus’s arm and pulled him over to Juliet’s desk. When they were a few steps away, he put his fingers to his lips in the sign for ‘quiet’, and crept towards her. Gus grinned, and crept up on the other side.

Shawn counted down on his fingers from three. One finger down, two fingers down, but as the last one fell a second deafening noise shook the building. It echoed through the room, and sent everyone running for the back of the police department.

“Shawn, was that what I thought it was?” Gus asked as they joined the rush of nearly twenty police officers down the hall.

Pushing their way through the throng of people standing near the last door on the left, Shawn responded, “Did you think it was a gunshot?” while pushing through the final group of people.

Standing at the front of the group, they could see why everyone was staring; the man charged with guarding the evidence room was lying dead on the floor with a gunshot wound to the head. Shawn continued, “Because I’d say that’s a pretty fair assumption.”


Posted: Aug 20 2007, 12:09 AM

Unemployed Observer

Group: Members
Posts: 3
Member No.: 63
Joined: 19-August 07

Title: Murder and Mayhem and Monopoly, Oh My!

Author: greenrandomness

Rating: K+

Warnings: Mild violence and some disturbing images.

Summary: A robbery and murder occur inside the Santa Barbara Police Department while multiple officers are present. Shawn and Gus try to find out who did it, and how.

Authors Note: Here’s the next chapter. I hope you guys all enjoy it. The entire fan fiction is now complete. I just need to type it all. Oh and for future reference Mark Spies last name is pronounce Speez. I know someone with that last name. Thank you, everyone, for all of the reviews so far.

Disclaimer: Only the story line and any characters you don’t recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.


Chapter 2- Treasure Hunt

Detective Carlton Lassiter moved to the front of the crowd to take in the dead officer lying in the evidence room. Turning to Shawn he quipped, “How’d the ‘Spirits’ miss this one, Spencer?” Using the ever so popular air quotes to show his disbelief.

“They were distracted by your lovely hair, Lassie-face!” He exclaimed, “Have you been using new conditioner?”

“Spencer,” Lassiter growled, his expression dark. He opened his mouth to continue, but another voice spoke first.

“I found something really weird outside,” Tom Quinn announced as he ran up the still barely lit hallway, but by the time he reached the group of officers the lights had flickered back on. “ I went to see it anything in the garage could have caused the blackout, when Mark and I had some trouble…Oh my god.” He ended in shock as he too saw the man lying dead on the floor.

Mark joined the group not a minute later, his wide-eyed gaze flicked from the body to his uncle, and back before he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He had obviously never seen a dead body before.

“Okay everyone, we need to know what happened.” Declared Karen Vick, pointing to Detectives Lassiter and O’Hara, she said, “I need you two to inspect the scene, check to see if anything’s missing.” They both nodded and walked into the room.

They quickly began to search the dimly lit room, despite their misgivings. The dusty shelves and small cramped quarters had made it foreboding before, but now with a dead body smack dab in the center of the room it was even more so.

Officer Louis McRory’s body was lying at an awkward angle on the cool cement of the evidence room. His uniform was rumpled, and splattered in blood from his shoulders to his collar. His normally clean brown hair was matted with blood and gray matter from the wound in his head. The bullet hole in the middle of his forehead had destroyed a portion of his scull, marring his once handsome face, and killing him almost instantly.

The blood, at one point flowing freely, was starting to clot now that his heart had stopped beating. It formed rivers of red over his eyebrows and downward, slowly dripping off his chin and jaw before landing on the collar of his uniform; the once vibrant blue was black with blood. Dull lifeless hands were lying at his sides as the body slowly cooled. An officer was dead, and the entire department had been only a hallway away.

Turning to Sergeant Quinn Karen asked, “What did you find in the garage? Do you think it has anything to do with this?”

“Yes ma’am.” He replied, “I found some debris near an electrical outlet, it looked like someone blew the fuses by creating some sort of power surge.” Tom explained, looking over his shoulder before continuing, “I think the blackout was planned.”

Meanwhile Shawn and Gus made their way into the evidence room. Lassiter and Juliet where examining the body, which gave the pair the perfect chance to search the room.

“What do you think happened?” Shawn inquired, searching the shelves with his eyes.

“I...” Gus gulped, prying his eyes away from the body, “don’t know, but can we get out of here?” He gulped again, looking a little green. Maybe it was the smell of fresh blood permeating the room, or maybe it was the fact that he knew this man, Officer Louis McRory. He knew that he had a wife and two kids, and he knew that those kids would never see him again. Whichever it was, Gus was feeling much more queasy than usual.

“Chief,” Lassiter called, gesturing to Karen, “We found something.”

“What did you find detectives?” She asked crouching next to the two detectives.

“It looks like he was shot with his own gun.” Juliet responded with a grimace, trying to remain objective when she knew the man, correction had known the body lying in front of her, was rather difficult.

“We haven’t found it yet, but…” Carlton began, but a cry sounded from the other side of the room, interrupting him mid sentence.

“Soda!” Shawn yelled waving his arms around wildly before holding his head as if in pain.

“What is it, Shawn? What do you see?” Gus asked, playing along.

Chief Vick moved to a standing position, and sighed, “ What do you see, Mr. Spence?”

Staggering around the room, he held out his hand and nearly crashed into a disgusted Lassiter before veering sharply to the left.

“Mountain Dew? Sprite?” He mumbled before opening his eyes, “Is there a vending machine in here?” When no one replied he held his head again, “ Coca-Cola…Coke!” He cried, pointing to a shelf that was roughly waist high.

“Cocaine.” Thomas Quinn interjected as the chief look over the shelf; a small amount of fine white powder was visible against the dark wood. “We had a huge bust two weeks ago, five kilos of pure Cocaine with a street value of over one-hundred and twenty thousand.”

“It’s gone.” Juliet responded looking to the empty shelf in shock.

“How does five kilos of illegal drugs get stolen and a man get murdered, inside of a police station?” Gus rambled, clearly upset, “Isn’t there security or something?”

“Yes, Mr. Guster, there is plenty of security.” The chief replied, chagrined at his accusation. “Unfortunately, it was all knocked out when the power failed.

“Ma’am,” Mark inquired, walking into the evidence room, seemingly having composed himself. “I think I found how the culprit escaped.” Leading the group out of the evidence room and to the right, he pointed to a broken window.

“Good work.” Chief Vick said, patting him on the back, “Can I count on you to get everyone out of this area?” She asked.

“Of course, Chief.” He replied timidly, and started ushering people out. Shawn noticed him bringing a hand up to a thin silver chain on his neck; a brief moment of panic passed across his face as he grabbed the empty chain, but he quickly schooled his features before speaking to the chief and leaving.

Shawn shrugged, moving to the window, and saw the broken but not crushed glass glinting on the wet grass; no one had stepped on it.

“Gus, come look at this.” Shawn whispered, pulling his friend to the assumed escape route.

“What…it’s a broken window.” He replied with exasperation, squinting his eyes at the rain splashing through the opening.

“The glass, Gus, the glass hasn’t been stepped on!” Shawn exclaimed happily, his smile a mile wide.

“So…?” Gus asked, knowing that only Shawn could ever know what Shawn was thinking.

“I think there is more going on here than everyone seems to think…Hi Ho, Magic Head. Away!” He cried, grabbing the sides of Gus’s head and starting to walk backwards.

“Shawn!” Gus yelled trying to pull away. “ I told you never to call me that!” Gus tried to hold his ground, metaphorically and literally, but Shawn won in a few seconds, and pulled him to the garage.

Reaching the garage, Shawn bent over what had once been an electrical socket. The blackened outlet was surrounded by plastic and metal debris, a few wires were still intact, but for the most part the entire device was destroyed.

“Shawn, this looks like it was some sort of bomb.” Gus announced, crouching down next to it.

“Yeah.” He mumbled in response. Grabbing a pen out of Gus’s front pocket, he slowly sifted through the debris.

Unfazed, Gus continued, “Whoever did this must have plugged it in and used the explosion to kill the power.”

A small silver circle was visible, looking at it a little closer, Shawn could see engraving, in what looked to be like Latin on the surface. It was a pendant from a necklace.

“That’s not the only thing he killed.” Shawn said, standing up.

“He?” Gus asked, also rising.

“Mark!” Shawn exclaimed, but at Gus’s confused look his face fell. “What?”

“He was with us when the lights went off.” He reasoned, not seeing how Mark could have done it.

“…Maybe there was a timer or something on it…”

“Yeah!” Gus agreed, “He must have set it before he came in!”

“Then when Tom went to go check it out, he killed the cop, stole the coke, and broke the window!” Shawn continued.

“Then he ran back to the fuse box and waited!” Gus exclaimed, finishing their little brainstorming session.

“I think it’s time for the Spirits to contact me again.” Shawn proclaimed dramatically as he and Gus rushed back inside.

Before reaching the office, Shawn slowed down and put his fingers to his temples as if he was having another vision. Gus opened the door and walked in, but Shawn did not follow. The chief stopped speaking mid sentence, and stared at Gus. A moment later Shawn peered around the door.

“Can I help you, Mr. Spencer?” She asked, clearly agitated. The fake psychic started humming the mission impossible theme and sliding along the wall.

“He did this all the way here.” Gus sighed, “ I think it’s another vision.”

“Mission impossible.” Juliet guessed.

“Can’t we just skip the six degrees and get to the point?” Lassiter scowled as Shawn pretended to have a gun and did a summersault across the floor. His acrobatics left him right in front of the chief’s desk, and under her piecing gaze.

“007?” Juliet guessed again, always ready to try and decode Shawn’s ‘visions’.

“Detective Lassiter is right, Mr. Spencer. We don’t have time for games.”

Shawn jumped into a standing position, “Not even Monopoly?” He asked

“Yahtzee?” Gus suggested.


“Twenty Questions?”

“Twenty Questions isn’t a board game, Gus.”

“Neither is Six Degrees.”

“It should be!” Shawn decided, “ That would be so—”

“Did you eat paint chips as a child?” Detective Lassiter deadpanned.

“Detective.” The chief warned before turning to Shawn who was about to reply, “The point. Mr. Spence.”

Closing his eyes again he announced, “…spies.”

“Spies?” Lassiter groaned, “You’re saying that spies did this.”

“Not me, the Spirits.” Shawn corrected with his hand in the air. “But no, I don’t think they mean spies as in Sean Connery, Pierce Brosnan, and Tom Cruise.” He paused in thought. “Although he may be evil…the vote is still out on that.” Remembering the point of his reference he closed his eyes in thought, placing his index and middle fingers to his temple on each side. He began to mumble, “…spies…spiiiiiiies…speeeeeez.”

“Mark Spies!” Gus said as if receiving a great revelation.

“That’s it, Mark Spies!” Shawn agreed, his eyes snapping open. “Are you sure you’re not psychic, Gus?” Everyone rolled their eyes, but Shawn didn’t see it because he had once again closed his eyes. “ I see Spies…he’s placing the device in the garage, it has a timer…five minutes. He stands up to leave…a coin, no the pendant from his necklace falls to the ground.” Shawn finished opening his eyes. “Spies caused the blackout.”

“You’re saying—” Chief Vick began.

“Spirits.” Shawn interrupted.

“What?” She asked, confused at his outburst.

“The Spirits are saying.” He replied as if it was obvious.

“Okay…fine.” She sighed for the umpteenth time that day, “The Spirits are saying that Mark Spies was in on the robbery—”

“Yes.” Shawn and Gus both replied simultaneously, before looking at each other competitively. A moment later they both cried “Jinx!” glaring at one another when they tied again.

“Gentlemen.” She interrupted, “There is no evidence to suggest that officer Mark Spies had anything to do with the robbery.” She looked to Lassiter who smirked at the pair.

“You do realize that Mark Spies was at the top of his class in the academy, and that his uncle is a highly decorated officer.” Lassiter informed them with an air of superiority.

“That doesn’t mean a thing, Lassie!” Shawn said, “When was the last time that one of my visions was wrong?” He questioned, and when the detective refused to answer both he and Gus crossed their arms in triumph.

“Shawn we have reason to believe that it was the dealers who came back and took the drugs.” Juliet interjected.

“Why would they risk breaking into a police station? They were already in enough trouble.” Gus reasoned.

“The drugs were worth over one-hundred and twenty grand, that is more than enough reason for a dealer to do this.” Detective Lassiter scoffed, also crossing his arms.

When the chief didn’t seem to be changing her mind, Shawn fell to his knees, “At least check it out, Chief!” Shawn pleaded, dramatically folding his hands as if in prayer. “When have I ever been wrong?”

With a sigh, Karen Vick nodded and turned to the two detectives, “Go to the garage and see if his vision is correct. After that…we’ll see.”

Jumping to his feet Shawn smiled, and followed a sullen Lassiter, and a slightly amused Juliet to the garage.

Reaching the garage Lassiter stopped just inside the doorway, and turned to look at Shawn. “I predict…” He said, holding his fingers to his temples in an imitation of the fake Psychic, “that there is absolutely nothing here.” With a sarcastic smile he walked down the few steps to the floor. Crouching down he began to sift through the debris just as Shawn had done only a short while before.

With Juliet kneeling next to him, he used his pen to move the matter around. Not a minute later he encountered a small silver circle. Blowing the blackened dust off of its surface, he revealed a pendant of St. Michael, the patron saint of police officers.

Shawn and Gus discreetly hit firsts behind his back. “Good thing you’re not the psychic Lassie.” Shawn started, but the man’s glare stopped him dead.

“Let’s get back to the Chief, O’Hara.” He scowled storming away, letting the door slam behind him. The three shared a look between them before following.

By the time Juliet, Shawn, and Gus had reached the chiefs office, Lassiter had already filled her in and was standing in front of her desk with his arms crossed. When Shawn entered a scowl fell onto his face.

Once everyone was present, Karen Vick looked to Lassiter and O’Hara, “Detectives, I want you to go speak with Officer Spies. Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster, I want you two to go with. See if you can pick anything up.”

Shawn yelled “Field trip!” as he ran out the door with Gus only steps behind him.

“He’s not riding with us.” Lassiter announced before walking swiftly out of the room with O’Hara in tow.


Authors Note: So there was the second chapter. It was quite a bit longer than the first and the rest will be also…although maybe not this long…who knows. I hope you all enjoyed it. Please review happy.gif

Posted: Aug 20 2007, 12:14 AM

Unemployed Observer

Group: Members
Posts: 3
Member No.: 63
Joined: 19-August 07

Title: Murder and Mayhem and Monopoly, Oh My!

Author: greenrandomness

Rating: K+

Warnings: Mild violence and some disturbing images.

: A robbery and murder occur inside the Santa Barbara Police Department while multiple officers are present. Shawn and Gus try to find out who did it, and how.

Authors Note: Here is the 3rd chapter; I hope you guys enjoy it. Oh and by the way any suggestions are welcome and all reviews are considered, no matter whether they are good or bad.

Disclaimer: Only the story line and any characters you don’t recognize are mine…anything else belongs to the creators and owners of Psych.


Chapter 3- Clue

Running to Gus’s blue company car, Shawn and Gus tried to avoid the raindrops still failing from the threatening sky. The wind whipping through the trees pulled at their clothes and slammed the drops into their faces with stinging force. Shawn turned to Gus, “Was it just me, or did Lassie seem a little cranky?” He asked, but at Gus’s disbelieving look he continued, “…Er than usual?”

“A cop was murdered, you know how personal that makes it.” Gus replied, “Someone kills a cop, and the entire force is up in arms.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…plus it happened in the station.” Shawn agreed turning to look out the window; his fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on his jean-clad leg.

“Yeah…” Gus paused. “Shawn?” He inquired, looking at him briefly.

“Hmm?” Shawn answered still watching the wet streets and dark sky. Occasionally glancing through the front windshield to see Lassiter and Juliet’s car driving carefully down the street in front of them.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Positive! Once we find Mark he’ll confess to everything.” The psychic confidently responded before leaning his head against the cool glass of the window

Ten minutes of following the detectives brought the pair to Mark Spies apartment. Getting out of the car, Shawn caught a glimpse of the alleyway behind the building. A Single masculine hand was just barely visible from his vantage point. The rusty brown of dried blood was almost unnoticeable on his fingers.

“Or not.” Shawn groaned, earning a confused look from Gus.

“What—” He began, but Shawn’s sudden and loud collapse to the ground drowned out the rest of the sentence.

Juliet and Lassiter stopped a few yards from the alley to stair at the flailing display that was Shawn Spencer. His arms were waving wildly as he collapsed to the cold, damp pavement, moaning like a man on his deathbed.

“Is he okay?” Juliet half shouted, taking a step closer to the two. A large boom of thunder nearly drowned out her question. Shawn moaned louder in response, clutching his torso.

“Spencer.” Lassiter rolled his eyes, starting to walk again, but Shawn’s rather realistic cry of pain made him pause, and caused Juliet to go running to the fake psychic’s side.

“Oh god!” He cried prying his eyes open to stare at the two pairs of worried eyes above him. “It hurts.” He moaned pitifully.

“Shawn…?” Gus asked, his voice made slightly higher by his worry that something may actually be wrong.

“Spencer! What the h*ll are you doing? We don’t have time for this!” Detective Lassiter yelled, walking briskly back to them. Although before he reached the others, Shawn stood up, an empty look on his face.

“Mark Spies is dead.” He intoned in a flat voice, causing everyone, including Lassiter, to stare in shock. “There.” He pointed to the alley. Moments later he shook his head as if coming out of a trance. About to speak, he opened his mouth again, but Juliet and Lassiter had already run to the alley.

Gus punched him in the shoulder. “Next time warn me!” He whispered, barely containing his anger.

“I can’t control the Spirits, Gus.” Shawn grinned, earning himself a glare. Gus quickly stalked away, his tense shoulders and straight back showing his irritation. Jogging to catch up, Shawn reached him just as he reached the detectives.

Juliet was still in a mild state of shock. Her wide-eyed stare was still trying to take in the scene in front of her. Mark Spies lay in a pool of his own blood. His once sandy blonde hair was dripping wet, and covered in the dirt and grime of city streets. His once tall frame was curled in a sick imitation of the fetal position, his legs eternally bent as if trying to push himself out from between the two buildings that had become his deathbed.

The hands that had only hours before shook hands with Shawn were now stiff with rigor mortis, one vainly holding onto the gaping wound just above his belly button, while the other reached out to the street. In his last moments Mark Spies had been trying to reach help, he had tried to save himself. Unfortunately, he had failed, dieing in a back alley of Santa Barbara with only dirt, a rusted green dumpster, and the trash inside it as company.

“I’ll call the chief.” Lassiter said solemnly after a minute of silence. Pulling out his cell phone, he walked a few feet away and turned his back on the grisly sight in the alley.

Shawn came and stood next to Juliet, while Gus stood slightly behind her to the left. Gus gently placed a hand on her stiff shoulder and smiled reassuringly when she turned to look at him. Shawn took in everything he could, knowing that he and his partner wouldn’t be here for much longer.

He could see that the wound on Mark’s stomach had been the cause of death. The ragged two inch long incision indicated that the knife was most likely relatively large and serrated. It also showed that it had been plunged into his body and then sharply yanked down, lengthening the incision and nearly doubling the blood flow. The distinct lack of bruises or scratches showed that there was no struggle, which lead Shawn to believe that Mark Spies had known his attacker.

“Spencer, Guster, I want you two out of here.” Lassiter ordered,

“But—” Shawn replied, in a whiney child-like tone.

Predicting Shawn’s argument, he crossed his arms, “We don’t need any ‘psychic’ assistance.” Lassiter said. “So why don’t you take you’re little sidekick, and get out of here.”

“Let’s go, Shawn.” Gus conceded, almost haughtily. He placed a hand on his friends shoulder, and gently steered him away. As Shawn was pulled away from the crime scene he saw one final piece of evidence. A small bag of white powder was near the body. It couldn’t have held more than an gram of the drug, but he knew that it had come from someone with a lot more stashed away.

“It’s a setup!” Shawn cried as he and Gus got into the blue car.

“How is it a setup?” Gus asked, a note of disbelief in his voice. Turning the key in the ignition he looked to the fake psychic, waiting for an explanation.

“Don’t you see, Gus!” Shawn exclaimed enthusiastically, which for anyone else might have been considered odd due to the fact that they were talking about a dead body.

“No, Shawn, I don’t see. Unlike you I don’t have the Spirits to guide me.” He replied mockingly, only sparing Shawn a quick glance as he traversed the slick roads.

“He wants us to think it was a drug deal gone bad, or that the dealers were trying to make it look like it was a deal gone bad.” Shawn explained, completely disregarding the psychic jibe.

“What?” Gus asked, totally lost by Shawn’s leap in logic. “How does that make sense?” He replied sarcastically looking back to Shawn a moment later. “And ‘he’ who, who is ‘he’?”

“I don’t know yet…” Shawn replied leaning his head against the window again. “But I will soon. I just need time to think.”

Later that night, Shawn lay in his darkened bedroom, tossing and turning in the rumpled coverings of his bed.
“Who is it?” Shawn half moaned staring at the stark white ceiling of his room. “Who did it?” He asked himself for the hundredth time that night. Slowly sitting up in his bed, he threw his legs over the edge, and placed his bare feet onto the cool wood of the floor. Placing his head in his hands, he wracked his brain for the answers.

Jumping up he began to pace the length of the room. “How did he do it…who is the other guy?” He mumbled, and suddenly it was like a herd of stampeding wildebeests had just hit him. “That’s it!” He yelled, not caring if he disturbed his neighbors. “How could I have been so stupid?”

He grabbed his cell phone, and quickly dialed Gus’s number. After five rings he heard a muffled “’lo”

“Dude! I figured it out! I know who did it!” He exclaimed loudly into the phone.

“Shawn.” Gus moaned sleepily, holding the phone away from his ear slightly.

“I can’t believe I missed it! I just can’t believe it!” He ranted ecstatically into the phone, oblivious to the man on the other ends mood.

“Shawn.” Gus tried again to get his friends attention

“Really, I mean how stupid can I get? It was right in front of me the entire time!”

“Shawn!” Gus yelled, finally stopping the happy rant on the other end. “It is three in the morning, I have work tomorrow, and I specifically told you not to call me past ten tonight.” Gus admonished crossly, frowning into the phone.

“But Gus—”

“I specifically said not to. No matter what, and I meant it, Shawn. I’m not doing anything, except sleep, from ten p.m. until six a.m. I’m not going to run all over Santa Barbara on some half-formed hunch of yours.” Gus continued holding his ground.

“I need to get a look at the alley.” Shawn said pulling on his pants, not believing for a second that Gus wouldn’t give in.

“No. I have a ‘real’ job that I have to go to tomorrow. I can’t be up half the night.”

“I can’t go without you, man!” Shawn pleaded standing in the middle of his room in a pair of jeans, no shirt, no socks, and the phone cradled against his shoulder.

“No.” He replied, not giving in. “I need to sleep. If this can wait until my lunch break tomorrow, I’ll go.” Gus decided, pulling the phone away from his ear.

“But Gus…” Shawn pleaded again, putting as much hurt and sorrow into his voice as possible.

“Goodnight!” Gus called loudly into the phone, hanging it up before Shawn could reply. Moments later he was once again fast asleep.

“Gus…Gus…I know you’re still there.” Shawn said coyly before pausing. “Gus?” He pulled the phone away from his ear when he got no response, and frowned as he closed it, ending the call.

He placed the phone in his pocket as he began to pace once again, his bare feet padding against the wood as he continued in a never-ending loop around the room. “I’ll wait…yeah I can do that.” He announced to the room before collapsing onto the mussed bed. “Patience is a virtue after all.”

Shawn looked at the clock hours later. He had been trying to occupy himself since three a.m., and it was now ten. “Close enough!” He said loudly, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
“Gus!” Shawn practically yelled into the phone.

“Good morning to you to.” Gus sighed, still slightly irritable from earlier.

“You have to take an early lunch. We are going to that alley!” Shawn demanded, his jacket already on and his keys in hand.

“Shawn.” Gus began.

“I’ll meet you there in a half an hour.” He continued, ignoring Gus. Hanging up, he grabbed his helmet and walked out the door.

“I just can’t—”Gus replied weakly to the dead line, trailing off when he realized that his friend had already hung up.

Hanging up the phone, he dropped his head down on the desk in front of him. “I’m staying here.” He decided. “ I have responsibilities. He never really needs my help anyways” He reasoned, his words muffled against the dark, smooth wood of his desk. Breathing deeply, he steadied his resolve, but a few seconds later his breathing turned into a huge sigh, and he stood up. Grabbing his keys, he hurried out of the office.

When Gus reached Mark Spies apartment building he could already see the fake psychic impatiently pacing in front of his motorcycle.
“Dude!” Shawn cried gesturing widely with his arms. “What took you so long?” Gus opened his mouth to reply, but Shawn didn’t give him the time. “Never mind, we have a murder to solve. Onward!” He announced briskly jogging to the passage, leaving Gus to try and catch up.

Once there, Shawn ducked under the yellow police tape, and crouched next to the still visible pool of blood. The rust colored stain was dull against the dark asphalt; the rain had been washing it, and all of the other physical evidence, away while Shawn had been doing nothing at his apartment. Luckily, Shawn had seen enough the day before to visualize the crime scene, body and all.

Closing his eyes, he placed his fingertips to his temples in an effort to concentrate. Blocking out the few cars whizzing by, and the pattering of the persistent drizzle that had begun earlier that morning while Shawn was reorganizing his CD collection by band name, album release date, and color. He ignored the dog barking two doors down, and the children’s laughter and screams of joy that could be distantly heard from the elementary school a few blocks away.

He visualized Mark’s body on the ground. He could see the stab wound, the lack of bruises, and the small bag of Cocaine as if it were all still there. Opening his eyes he saw a few splatters of blood leading to a large dumpster against the wall.

“The murder weapon.” Shawn said just loud enough for Gus to hear. “They never found it.”

“How do you know?” He asked crossing his arms.

“It’s under the dumpster, I’d bet my life and all the Pineapples in Hawaii on it.” He replied, lying down to look under the metal container.

With his face next to the ground, his cheek pressed to the damp pavement, he could see a medium sized knife lying against the brick wall. The dried blood on the blade was clearly visible, and he could tell that the edge was serrated, just like he had guessed. “Gus! I—” A bullet hitting the wall above the dumpster caused his words to die on his lips.

As he froze another hit the street near his feet. With a girlish scream he jumped up and ran behind the large metal dumpster, pulling a stunned Gus with him.



Author’s note: Here’s the third chapter! I hope you all enjoyed it. Even if you didn’t please review and tell me what you think.
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