This is a story I started months ago and never got around to continuing. I'm posting it now to see if anyone is still interested in seeing it. It is a sequel to my earlier story Two Dead Guys and a Girl.I highly recommend you read that one first, as I will be making numerous references to people and events from it.

I only posted the flashback for now. Chapter 1 will be up next week. I hope you like it.

Santa Barbara, 1992

"How many hats?"

Fifteen year old Shawn Spencer rolled his eyes. "Dad, I told you, I'm not playing that game anymore." He slouched in his chair, arms crossed over his t-shirt/flannel combo. Hazel eyes looked bitterly at his father from under a bed of unruly brown hair.

"You need to keep honing your skills if you hope of becoming a detective someday," Henry Spencer replied. In contrast to his son's attire, the elder Spencer was wearing a suit and tie. His appearance reminded one more of a smartly dressed fisherman than a police detective.

"I don't see what's so great about being a detective," Shawn muttered sullenly.

"Shawn," Henry said sternly. "Close your eyes."

Shawn sighed, hating that he had to play this stupid game again, though he really should have seen this father had seated them so Shawn's back was to the room, like he usually did when he planned one of these exercises. He thought about refusing to cooperate, but knew his father wouldn't leave him alone until he passed his test.

Shawn sat up and closed his eyes, putting his hand to his temple in concentration. He thought back to what he had seen as he walked to the table. "Guy in the corner eating a ham sandwich wearing a Seagulls cap," he said, pointing behind him. He moved his arm to point towards the counter. "Two girls wearing matching white tennis outfits, complete with white caps." He paused, listening to the people walking around the diner. "Waitress two tables over wearing one of those flimsy paper hats like they did in the 50s," he said, identifying her by her quick, heavy tread. He pointed towards the front of the diner. "Kid at a table by the window wearing a beret and reading a book of poetry. Pretentious snob," he snorted, momentarily distracted. "Thinks he's better than everyone."

"Focus, Shawn," Henry reminded him.

Shawn snagged a French fry off his plate, munching on it as he continued. "Girl by another window a couple tables down from 'beret boy,'" he said, pointing with the half eaten fry. He popped the rest into his mouth and opened his eyes."There, six hats." He snagged another fry as he waited for his father's response.

Henry crossed his arms. "Is that it?" he asked pointedly.

"What do you mean, is that it?" Shawn asked irritably. "You asked how many hats. I told you. Game over." He reached for his burger, but Henry quickly slid the plate away from him. "Hey!"

"The game is about more than hats," Henry said reprovingly. "I taught you to observe people." He slid the plate further away as Shawn made a lunge for it. "Now close your eyes and start from the top."

With his burger being held hostage, Shawn had no choice but to give in to his father's demands. He glowered at him before closing his eyes again. "Seagull guy is wearing work boots, jeans, and a t-shirt. The boots and jeans have a coating of dust on them. He's sweaty, even though it's cool in here. I'm guessing road crew. His t-shirt was covered by the reflective vest they wear, that's why it's not dirty." He switched focus to the girls at the counter. "Judging by their looks I'd guess the two girls are sisters. They are dressed for tennis, though I don't think they plan on playing. Neither has any tennis equipment, though I do see a blue drawstring bag between them. A bit of red cloth is sticking out of the top. The bag probably has a change of clothes for both of them. Their jewelry looks more expensive than you normally see around here. They glance at the door every time it opens." He paused, taking a minute to put all the pieces together. "They're waiting for someone," he said slowly, as the last piece snapped into place. "I'm guessing they're using tennis lessons as an excuse to meet with a couple of guys their father doesn't approve I'm not the only one with daddy issues," he goaded.

"Shawn," Henry said warningly.

Shawn took a sip of his drink to hide his grin. His dad was almost too easy to mess with. "The waitress has been moving non-stop since we got here," he said, moving on. "She forgot the guy in the corner booth's refill twice already. She also keeps glancing at the door. I bet she's covering extra tables for someone who didn't show up today."

At that moment, the doors burst open. He turned around as a girl in a waitress uniform came hurrying in. "Sorry, I'm late," she said. The other waitress gave her a dirty look as she ran into the back. She emerged moments later, sans purse. "Where do you want me?"

Shawn turned back to his father as the new arrival got to work. "Well, what do you know?" he said with a smirk. "Looks like I was right."

"You're not done yet," Henry reminded him. "Keep going."

Shawn sighed, wishing, just once, his dad would acknowledge when he did something right. Even something as simple as saying 'good job.' But no matter what it never seemed to be enough. He pushed that thought away for now and closed his eyes. "The boy by the window seems distracted. He keeps changing positions at the table, then glancing up from his book to see if anyone is almost looks like he's posing for someone, or putting on a show. He does the same thing in my English class, so I know he's a pretentious snob." He heard Henry sigh, but his father didn't say anything. "The girl is in my English class too. She always has her head in a book. I'm surprised she even noticed when the waitress brought her food." He paused, feeling that he was missing something. He quickly went over everything he had observed about the girl and her surroundings. She was sitting at a table to the left of the door, facing towards the wall. She appeared to be completely absorbed in her book. In fact, the only time she had looked up from it was when her food arrived. At that moment, someone else had looked up too.

Shawn opened his eyes and turned around. The boy was still sitting there awkwardly, pretending to read the book. Shawn saw him shift position again, eyes looking up briefly from his book. This time, though, Shawn noticed who the boy was looking at.

"He has a crush on her," Shawn said, turning back to his father. "That's why he's sitting there pretending to read poetry. I've seen her read that exact same book in class. He's trying to impress her." The boy's attitude in English class made more sense now. He shook his head. "Too bad he doesn't stand a chance with her."

"Still think he's such a snob?" Henry asked. The look he gave Shawn was full of disappointment. "You need to stop making assumptions about people. It's a good way to get someone killed."

"Dad, I'm in high school," Shawn said, rolling his eyes. "Aren't you being a little overdramatic?"

"You need to break these habitats now if you're going to make it as a cop," Henry said.

"Yeah, well, what if I would rather be a daredevil?" Shawn asked stubbornly. "Or run a candy store? Or travel across the country in a van solving mysteries?"

"Unless you have a Great Dane named Scooby, you'll need a real job when you grow up," Henry said dryly. "What do you think all this training has been for?"

"To make high school even more awful?" Shawn muttered.

"What was that?" Henry asked suspiciously.

Shawn sighed. "Nothing."

"Good," Henry said. He slid Shawn's plate towards him. "Now eat your food."

The rest of the meal passed in silence. Shawn thought about what his father had said as he ate his burger. He didn't care what his father wanted him to be. He was going to make his own choices.

And it definitely would not involve becoming a cop.

Interested? Let me know.