Well, as already stated, this story is the continuation of "In Case Of Murder". It´s definitely helpful to read that one first (and of course you may review it too ;-)

Another note: I never warn of character death because I don´t wanna spoil my own stories. I don´t say it happens but you should always be prepared.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The Wrong Move

It was a bright, sunny day in Santa Barbara. One of these days when you take your girlfriend out for a stroll into the city to test the menu of the new Mexican restaurant that had opened right over the street from the theater. And if one didn´t have his girlfriend at hand right now, he would take his best buddy instead. That´s what Shawn Spencer did. Or better what he had done. The early brunch he and his best friend Gus had taken was already over, though they had entered the restaurant only a quarter ago. Evidently these Mexicans served their food rather quickly but also evidently very very hot. Gus was the first who rushed out of the door (he hadn´t even waited for his change) and Shawn, a taco to go in one hand and a smoothy in the other, had to run to catch up with him.

„Aw, come on, dude." he called apologetic.

„I should have known, Shawn." Gus replied while looking around for the next water source.

„You should have known what?" Shawn pretended to be innocent.

„I should have known that there was something wrong when you offered to pay. And even if not then, I should have known as soon as I learned that you had ordered both our foods yesterday."

„I had no idea you wouldn´t stand this special double chilli pack." Shawn said.

„Then why didn´t you order it for both of us?"

„Dude, I have to save some of my money." Shawn replied. „That stuff is expensive. But for my friend there is nothing too good. You´re still recovering after all. You need some meat on your bones. Doctors orders."

„I´ll slap you, Shawn."

„But there is a good part in it, too." Shawn went on as if he hadn´t heard Gus´ last words. „Now we know that it is not a good idea to eat this thing on an empty stomach."

„It´s not a good idea to eat it on any stomach." Gus replied. Then he finally spotted something. „I need a milk." he said and started to head for the next drugstore.

„What do you need that for?"

„The milk neutralizes the sharp taste." Gus explained rather nerved before he entered the drugstore without waiting for Shawn.

Shawn just chuckled and decided to wait outside in the sun. The shop owner wouldn´t appreciate him eating his taco in there anyway. Gus was probably right about the special double chili, he mused. It wasn´t that special after all. Good that he hadn´t tried it. His gustatory nerves were too delicate for such a furios meal. He had to treat them with more light flavours. The taco he had served himself to was quiet enough of hot foot for them. He bit it and nodded satisfied to himself. Yap. That was the much better version. Who cares for such a fake special anyway? Everybody knew that they were nothing but marketing tricks. One should know better and stick to what he knew and knew that it was good.

While he ate and waited for Gus to come back out of the drugstore, he let his gaze wander over the street. People were walking by, chatting, sometimes laughing. Barely someone was in a hurry or bearded with stress as far as he could see it. It was still rush-hour traffic, the most busy time in this part of the city, where all the restaurants, Starbucks and cafés were settled. But still, people seemed to enjoy the little chill out moment they had, by drinking their coffee before heading to work. Must be the effect of the nice weather. Such a shiny day seemed to raise the mood of everyone. That had been the reason why Shawn had taken Gus here for a bite to eat. Even though he had played him one of his usual pranks, he had actually done it to help his friend recover, just as he said. Not with the food but with some normality. And playing Gus pranks was normality. Nothing could heal a person more than that. Especially after being almost killed.

Gus was out of hospital for two weeks now and he was still not his old selve. He drove slowly and he walked slowly. Shawn knew it wasn´t because he was in any pain. The doctors had given him medication for any pain that should possibly get back to him. Though they didn´t expect any. No, the reason why Gus was keeping it slow was because he was still struck by what had happened. He had seen his life rushing by before his very eyes and now he was afraid. Shawn was no psychologist like his Mom but he knew that his friend was suffering from some sort of a trauma. He wanted him to overcome this state. He wanted the old Gus back. That was the reason why he teased him. Carefully but he did. Teasing Gus was the only way of luring him out of his shell. It had always been that way. And surely a nice day like that was a perfect setup for this kind of therapy. Everybody had to be intrigued by that beautiful atmosphere. Everyone but Lassie of course. He looked as grim as ever, even more.

Shawn needed ten more seconds before he realized what was wrong with this picture. Why by heavens sake was the head detective of the Santa Barbara Police Department standing here in the middle of town while he should be at the station? Maybe he was getting himself a coffee like everybody else. That could be the reason. But if that was so, why did he carry this bag with him then? And since when for heaven´s sake did he wear jeans and t-shirt instead of his suit and tie? And even if Shawn could have overlooked this (what was impossible to even think after seeing the man in nothing else over all these years) what the hell was he trying to prove with that ridiculously hilarious hat? It was a bowler hat in screaming red, a black band around it. Everybody who passed Lassiter threw a confused look at it but he didn´t even seem to notice these gazes.

Shawn swallowed his latest bite of the taco rather dryly. What the hell was that all about? Was that really Lassie? Or had the man a secret twin he never told them about? But that was outrageous. Only Lassie could look that grim and not fall apart in the process. There was no mistake. But that also meant that something was out of order. Way out of order.

Shawn took a decision and then walked over the street. His curiosity was stronger than his shock over this strange and rather insane appearance of the usually so straight and uptight head detective. One look into Lassie´s face had told Shawn two things. One: the man wasn´t here to get some coffee. And two: there was something that worried him much more than a special double chili pack on an empty stomach could do. It was also very unlikely that he had lost a bet since Shawn really didn´t believe that Carlton Lassiter would ever take a bet that ridiculous.

Shawn might not be a real psychic, but sometimes he didn´t need to be one to know that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Considering Lassie´s outfit Shawn was even ready to accept drug abuse.

„Hey, Lassie!" he greeted with a wide grin, when he reached him, pretending not to be too startled.

The detective spun around at this and there was an expression on his face, that made Shawn´s grin fade away immediately. It was something he had never seen before in Lassiter´s face, not even when he had played one of his pranks on him. It was not the usual annoyance that seemed to come over the detective´s mood every time Shawn and Gus came near him (the coincidence was amazing, he always mused but he was sure there was no connection at all). Neither was it the slightly angry face, he sometimes gave him, after a clashing chat, that he knew Lassiter enjoyed as much as he did (he would more if he wouldn´t lose them all the time, but it would be unfair of Shawn to let him win on purpose, ´cause honestly, where would be the fun in that?) No this time it was an expression of pure shock and, yes, almost fear.

What was the matter with him? In that moment Shawn was almost really worried. Maybe the two bullets Lassiter had taken in their last adventure had had a more severe effect on him, than Shawn had expected. Or maybe it had been the cold of the water. Couldn´t that do serious damage to a brain? He didn´t know for sure but in this moment he was ready to accept the possibility.

„Go away, Spencer." Lassiter hissed. „Go back, wherever you came from and stay away from me."

„Lassie, what´s wrong?" he asked confused. „Did I …?"

„Leave me alone." Lassiter yelled at him and pushed him more than just harsh but almost violently.

Shawn stumbled backwards and looked at Lassiter more than just startled. He was used to harsh words but he had never gotten physical in his annoyance. This attack as brief as it had been, almost hurt. It had come so unforeseen and suddenly that he had felt not only Lassiter´s hands that pushed him back but also a wave of fury coming along with it. It was like a headshot.

„I don´t have time for your silly jokes." Lassiter now told him, before Shawn had a chance to ask what he had done wrong. „Not today. Hit the deck. Now."

Lassiter looked around with wild and searching eyes. The expression he gave Shawn was the one of a haunted animal that expected the hunter to come around the next corner every second. Now Shawn got a hunch on what was going on here.

„Oh, damn." he said. „You´re on an undercover mission. That´s it, isn´t it? What is it? A drug deal to go down here? Or weapons?"

„Just leave me alone." Lassiter urged him again. „Immediately."

Shawn was about to do so, when Lassiter´s eyes jumped from him to a point somewhere behind him. First Shawn expected it to be Gus, who had finally left the drugstore and caught up with him. But when he turned around, it was a man he had never seen before. He was wearing a grey suit that was too tight for him and he was badly shaved. Still he seemed to be the man Lassiter had been waiting for, because when he noticed that Shawn was talking to Lassiter, he turned around and left.

„No." Carlton cried. „No, don´t go! Wait!"

The man ran down the street and Lassiter followed him, screaming after him in desperation: „I have your money!"

Shawn just stood on his place struck and unable to digest what was happening in front of his very own eyes. Did he really just hear what he believed he had heard? Without realizing it, he started to run after the two men as well.

The man in the grey suit had reached a car, spun around and pulled a gun. That was the moment when Shawn found himself not just following anymore but racing. He had no idea how he managed it to catch up with Lassiter in time nor why the detective, who usually pulled his gun on every occasion that offered itself to him, didn´t do so now. But when the bullet left the gun of the bad guy, Shawn threw himself at Lassiter and they both hit the ground hard and hurting.

All around people started to scream after the shot had disturbed the peaceful day and the neat environment became a chaos of running pedestrians. The man in the tight suit decided not to try to shoot them again and climbed into the car instead. Lassiter shoved Shawn aside and struggled back to his feet. In the process he grabbed the bag, he had lost before and waved for the man with his free hand.

„Please!" he cried. „Please, don´t go!"

In that moment the car´s motor started and a second after that, it went off in an explosion. Lassiter was thrown backwards and so was Shawn and everybody else who was in a radius of maybe ten feet around the car. When they looked up the car was burning and the guy that sat behind the wheel was toast.

Shawn´s ears were still ringing after the blast. He needed a while until he realized what had just happened. Then he remembered Lassiter and turned around. The detective had just come up from the ground as well, seemingly just woken up from a short pass out. Shawn crawled the few feet over to him, to see if he was all right.

„Lassie?" he croaked.

But instead of assuring him that everything was all right and that he wasn´t hurt, Lassiter stared at the burning car wide eyed and then at him in a sudden fury. He grabbed him by the collar and threw him back to the ground, leaning over him like a predator that just got his prey.

„That´s your fault, Spencer!" he yelled into his face and for a moment Shawn was sure he would punch him, or hit his head down on the pavement until it cracked. But instead of doing so, Lassiter just went on yelling at him. „If you hadn´t interfered, he´d never run. They wanted me to come alone!"

Shawn gasped and his heart was racing rapidly in his chest. He had never been afraid of Lassiter, no matter how often he had threatened to shoot him. But now he was scared. That fury in the eyes of the man that was coming down on him, was real. And it cried for blood.

„Who?" he managed to get out.

„The men who have my wife!" Carlton cried. His grip on Shawn´s collar weakened a little. „They said if I tell anyone, she´d be dead." he explained. Then he grabbed Shawn tighter again and raised him off the ground, bringing his face so close to his own that their noses almost bumped into another. The fury was back.

„If she dies because of you, Spencer." Carlton hissed. „I´ll kill you with my bare hands."

And for the first time since he knew him, Shawn was sure, that Lassiter truly meant what he said.