Catch Me If You Can
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych, unfortunately
Detective Lassiter sat behind his desk, flicking bits of eraser shavings at McNab's back. He was so bored. Santa Barbara had been unusually, and frustratingly calm the past couple of weeks. He couldn't stand it. He craved the murder, the robberies, even the stupid slap fights between two soccer moms. Anything was more interesting than this. This calm. This damned peacefulness was driving him mad! O'Hara emerged from the stairwell, followed by Chief Vick. Juliet approached him. "The Chief has a new case for us!" she shrilled, excited to the point of annoyance.
"O'Hara. Be quiet. Let's go." He spoke calmly, but inside he was doing cartwheels. He was finally going to have something to do. Juliet pranced into Vick's office, acting like a giddy school girl. Lassiter attempted to remain aloof, and suave. But he speed walked into the office anyhow.
"Chief?"
Chief Vick sat in her chair, and flipped open a manila file folder. "Alright Detectives. I've been authorized to put you on a top secret, and specialized case."
Lassiter almost smiled, and Juliet was positively giddy. Their boredom had gotten the better of them. Vick smirked a little. "It's a high profile case, and it has to be kept secret. Only you two, me, the commissioner, and the mayor can know about this."
"What is it, Chief?"
"A con man has been making his way up and down the West coast, seducing wealthy men, stealing their money and personal information, and blackmailing them."
Lassiter was intrigued. "Why does he seduce them?"
"They're apparently more likely to divulge personal secrets, and while they sleep, he can easily steal their blackmailing is easy, especially since for most, their biggest secret is the fact that they are attracted to young men."
Lassiter was definitely intrigued. "Do you have a picture?"
Vick shook her head. "He's too clever to be caught on camera. The only surveillance photos we have of him are of him wearing a heavy coat and sunglasses. All of the victims described him, but we don't have a match in any of our databases, and the only identity we got from the victims was a fake name. Henry Burton."
"How can we help?"
"Well, it seems he's finally hit the streets of Santa Barbara."
"Who's the victim this time?"
The Chief cleared her throat. "It seems the...mayor, found himself conned by the young Mr. Burton."
Lassiter and O'Hara's jaws dropped simultaneously. "Wow."
Lassiter smiled to himself. "I could have been a lot better off than this if I'd have known."
The Chief scowled at him and gave him a warning look. "The mayor, wants this... under wraps. So don't make waves. Lassiter, I want you to go undercover. Mr. Burton has been hunting for wealthy men at the Plaza Hotel. I want you to go there, tonight, and draw Mr. Burton out of hiding."
"It's because I'm gay, isn't it?"
"No! It's because you're my best undercover detective. It doesn't matter that you're gay, I'm not pimping you out. I want you to just draw him out, and look for his signs."
"Signs?"
"All the victims have recounted the same general pattern of attack Burton takes. He saunters up, usually in a cheap suit and tie. He looks for a married man. He asks them what their secret to success is. Then he feeds them a story about how he just got out of business school, and he would kill to be as successful as they are, but he can't get hired. He compliments their clothes, looks, strokes their ego. Then he sits down, they talk awhile. He comes off as a charming, attractive young man. He flirts a lot, so the victim has no doubt of his intentions. Then he asks them if they could go somewhere and take a look at his portfolio, stock options, whatever suits the man of the hour. They go back to the victims room, have sex, and when the victims wake up in the morning, their credit cards, money, and checkbooks are missing. They can't identify him. He's not in the system, and he uses a fake name."
"Smart kid."
"Yes...anyways. I'll have you outfitted and then go to the Plaza. I can't have security inside, otherwise Burton will figure it out. I'll have O'Hara and McNab waiting in a car outside for your call. Go get ready. And be careful."
An hour later, Lassiter was outfitted with a stunning Armani suit and tie, and a leather briefcase. He wore Italian shoes, and a wedding ring from the evidence locker. He walked into the Plaza Hotel. It was a gorgeous place. The windows were covered with lush velvet curtains, and big, crystal chandeliers hung from ornate Georgian ceilings. He walked into the Hotel bar, and ordered a gin and tonic. He got his drink, and then waited. And waited. And waited. He was nursing his third gin and tonic when he heard a young man's voice behind him. It was cheerful, and smooth.
"Wow, those are some awesome shoes, man."
Lassiter turned around. Before him stood a very attractive man of about twenty eight or nine. He had immaculately styled chestnut hair, cheerful sea green eyes with a mischievous look in them, and a trim, muscular form. He wore, just as Vick said, a cheap looking black suit with a blue tie and black loafers. He smiled at Lassiter, dazzling the detective with pearly white teeth.
"You know, man. I wish I was rich like you. I mean, look at what you're wearing. It's gorgeous. What do you do for a living?"
Lassiter cleared his throat. "I'm in, uh, stocks. The market, you know."
Henry Burton flashed a bright smile again and sat on the stool next to Lassiter gracefully.
"I wish I could get a job like that...I just got out of business school, and I can't seem to get any job. I'm still living with my parents right now. It's embarrassing."
Lassiter smirked. "It's tough out there."
"You don't have to tell me. You know...You really have got it all going for you. You're rich, have a great job, married, I see, and you look like George Clooney? It's just not fair."
Lassiter laughed. "Give it up. I know you're trying to get in my pants."
"And you didn't enjoy my method?" He had a feigned look of shock on his devilishly handsome face.
"It was extremely kiss-ass. And why hit on me? I'm married, and how do you even know I'm into guys?"
"Let's just say I know a gay guy when I see one. And I know a bisexual guy when I see one too. You're gay though. Definitely. And...I'm sensing you don't mind getting kinky? Or maybe that's the guy over there." He pointed to a burly, sweaty, balding man down at the other end of the bar. Lassiter tried not to smirk.
"uh-huh. That's very nice, but why do you want to hit on me?"
"I'm attracted to unavailable men, what can I say?" The young man winked.
Lassiter snorted into his drink.
Henry cracked a smile. "I like you. You're not into the usual bullshit I have to use. What's your name?"
"Carlton, uh, Smith."
"Carlton Smith? So boring. How about, like, Giacuomo, or Francesco? I mean, I know its going to be a fake name, so why not make it cool? "
Lassiter smirked. Burton looked at him thoughtfully. "Your first name actually is Carlton, I know that. I don't what the last name is, but I'll figure it out."
Lassiter paused for a second. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yep. Anyways, I'm gonna call you Carly. So, Carly, if you love your husband so much, why are you sitting at a bar, drinking alone?"
"Why should I tell you? I don't even know your name."
"Sam, Sam McBride."
Lassiter cursed to himself. Why was he using a different name? He couldn't arrest him yet. "Fine, Sam McBride. I'm still not telling you anything."
"You are hard to get. I love it. Most of these married supposedly strait guys look at me, feel my hand on their thigh and my breath in their ears, and they're putty in my, very, very, capable hands." Sam winked again.
Lassiter laughed. "Listen kid. I'll admit it. You're good. And easy on the eyes. But, I'm married. And very happy."
Sam put a hand on Lassiter's thigh, and leaned in close, his hot breath on the nape of the detective's neck. "I'm sure you are, but I'm sure you wouldn't be disappointed if you came upstairs with me right now. I can blow. your. mind." He ran his fingers lightly up Lassiter's pants, brushing his crotch. Lassiter jumped a little. He was getting aroused. He cursed himself. He was a detective, trying to arrest this man, not have sex with him. He took a deep breath. Sam leaned back and smiled. "What do you say,Carly-boy?"
"No, thanks."
"Wow. I appreciate your strong will. I like a challenge."
He took Carlton's drink and spilled it down his shirt. He yelled, alerting everyone in the bar. "Oh, no! look what you've done. Now, I'm all wet." He smirked at Lassiter.
He began to undo his jacket, and Lassiter could see the button down shirt plastered to the young man's form. He felt himself getting hard, and he thought of the most unattractive things he could. Sam looked at him. "Sir, it would be polite to offer me a new shirt, seeing as you spilled your drink down mine."
"I did not-," Lassiter thought about it. looking at all the other people in the bar, who were watching them with slight intrigue. If he went upstairs with Burton, he would probably give him the info he needed to arrest him. Plus, the kid was hot, able and willing. Why not have a little fun before he arrested him? He mentally slapped himself. Pull it together Carlton.
"Okay, fine. Come to my room, I'll get you a new shirt." Sam looked slightly taken aback, but grinned and followed the older man from the bar. They had just gotten into the elevator when Sam jumped him. He pressed the detective against the back of the elevator and crushed his lips against Carlton's. Lassiter was startled, but quickly returned the kiss, and grabbed Sam's ass with both hands. The doors opened, and Lassiter walked out. Sam followed casually. "Where's your room?"
Lassiter laughed. "1305."