Involuntary reunion

It was late afternoon, when the boy came into the station. Lassiter was just storing some of his files into a folder, when Dobson came in with a young man in his tow. He was cuffed and did all the usual things suspects always did, when they got arrested. He claimed to be innocent all the way through the station.

„It wasn´t my fault." he claimed. „I was at the festival with a friend of mine. You can ask him."

Dobson stopped at the desk sergeant to book his suspect. He didn´t listen to the young man´s words.

Of course he was innocent, Lassiter thought to himself. The prisons were full of innocent people. The head detective chuckled slightly amused. That was before he got a better look at the young man´s face. First he thought he had to lose consciousness. The young man, almost still a teenager actually the way he looked, was somewhere in his mid twenties. He had brown hair and blue eyes. Lassiter had never forgotten the face and though the young man looked a little different now, he still was sure it was him. He hadn´t even needed to see the necklace around the man´s neck. There was a small golden coin on it.

Lassiter immediately turned his back to the familiar face and walked away. He had to be mistaken. That was impossible. Surely Spencer´s talking about this Irish folk festival had messed up his brain. Wouldn´t be the first time that Spencer had that effect on him. The young folks looked all the same these days. It was another boy, thats all. The necklace was coincidence. He probably bought it at a sales card at this festival. Fake nickel stuff painted with gold.

Lassiter looked at him again to convince himself of this. He couldn´t afford to become superstitious now. He needed to be sure. And looking at the man almost managed it to make him believe it. He had been mistaken the first time. Then the man turned around and met his gaze. When he saw him, his reaction was as instantly as Lassiter´s had been. His eyes went big and his face pale. The recognition was both sided.

Something inside of Lassiter dropped down to the bottom. He felt sick. He couldn´t even think properly any more. His feet started to move on their own and carried him back to his desk. To the place where he felt save. His place. The place where he worked, almost lived. Henry sat there on the other side. The older man looked up at him, startled.

„What happened to you?" he asked. „You look as if you have seen a ghost."

Lassiter couldn´t reply. Not for the next twenty seconds. His voice had gone someplace he thought he had forgotten years ago. Then Dobson passed their desks, escorting the young man to the holding cells. Lassiter tried to avoid the gaze of the suspect, but the way his feet had gained their own will before, his eyes forced him to look up now. The young man met his gaze again and kept holding it until the pillar came in the way and they were out of each others viewing range. Lassiter noticed that he had hold his breath as long as they had walked by and started to breath again. That couldn´t be. Mustn´t be. This was not meant to happen. Not here.

„Seems you missed some action." Henry woke him up with his comment.

„What?"

„At the festival." Henry explained with a motion after Dobson and the young man. „I heard there was a fight. Some hot tempered folks had an argument of some sort. I just wonder that they didn´t arrest more of them. Must have gotten away before our guys came there. Maybe I should call Shawn and ask him if he saw what happened." he offered.

„No." Lassiter denied still absent minded. „It was just a fight between kids. No big deal."

„Sure?" Henry asked watching Lassiter closely.

„Yeah." Lassiter answered.

He looked along the hallway, over to the stairs that led down to the holding cells. Again he felt something move inside, that he didn´t ask for being there. It was probably the best thing just to stay here. To work his files just as he had planned to do it. But on the other hand, this hadn´t worked the first time either. He had tried to avoid the festival with it and that had worked. But the trouble had found him anyway. He couldn´t deny that the boy was here. He wouldn´t go away just because he ignored him. At least not too soon. And if he couldn´t avoid it, then he at least wanted to know why. Dammit, he had to know.

He stood up and went down the stairs, almost without feeling the motion his legs made. When he was at the door that led to the holding cells, he hesitated. He threw a look through the small window in the door. He better hadn´t. In there the young man was looking out at him. He had already seen him, Lassiter could tell from the look in his eyes. No way of backing off anymore. So he took a deep breath and then entered the place.

The young man looked at him. He didn´t say a word. He seemed to be afraid. Lassiter was used to all kinds of reactions from suspects who were behind these bars. Some were frightened like this one, some were shouting insults at him and some were even crying. But this time he was as scared as the suspect he was looking at. Though thanks to all these years of experience, he was able to hide this uncomfortable feeling. At least to a certain degree. Experience didn´t help much when you faced a situation that you never even considered to ever happen. And to see this face in his station was surely something Lassiter hadn´t expected. He even had almost forgotten that he had ever met him. But like every hidden memory, it had only needed one second to come back to him. And now he was here. Face to face with his past. A past that should have been buried but it wasn´t. He took another deep breath and gave the young man in the cell a grim smile.

„What are you doing here?" he demanded to know.

„I could ask you the same." the young man answered. „Shouldn´t you be in Ohio?"

Lassiter nodded. So it was him. No way that this could be a misunderstanding. It was him.

„And shouldn´t you be in Utah?" he asked back. „Doing your homework?"

„Yeah, funny." the boy replied. „I´m out of school for seven years now."

„I see." Lassiter said nodding. „Well in that case you should be smart enough to know how to avoid trouble. You know what you did was against the law."

„Are you kidding me?" the boy cried. „That wasn´t my fault. Some drunken guys wanted trouble and they were faster than I was before the police showed up."

Now that was finally something Lassiter was used to hear. But then the young man skipped that part where he explained himself and instead he asked him: „What do you want from me? Revenge?"

„I have no business with you." Lassiter replied. „I want to know what you want. This is my station."

„Your station? Good joke."

„Listen up, boyo." Lassiter hissed and grabbed one of the bars. The young man skipped back a little. „Its no coincidence that you are here, that much I know." Lassiter said. „So tell me why you are here."

„As if you wouldn´t know." the other one replied.

„If I would know it, I wouldn´t ask you." Lassiter said. „You should better talk to me. I could help you out of here."

„Why should I trust you?" the younger man asked suspicious.

Lassiter gave him a mischievous smile. „You barely have a choice, do you?"

In this moment the door behind Lassiter was opened a second time. The detective turned around and faced the chief who just came in. There was another young man following her. A black boy. Also a well known face. When he spotted Lassiter his eyes became as wide as golf balls.

„Detective." chief Vick greeted surprised to see him here.

„Chief." he replied with a nod.

„What are you doing here?" she asked glancing at the suspect behind the bars.

„I … just thought …" Lassiter looked at the young man unsure how to proceed. „You see this young man looked familiar to me and I thought he might now something about one of my cases, I´m just working on."

„One of the cold cases?" the chief asked.

„Yeah."

„And … was your suspicion confirmed?" she wanted to know.

Lassiter looked at the young man again and he could tell that he expected him to say yes, to cause him trouble and blame him for some crime he didn´t commit.

„No." Lassiter said instead. „I was mistaken. Young folks all look the same these days, don´t they? Sorry for the trouble."

„Well as long as nothing worse happened." the chief said with a slight grin and went over to the cell. „Mr. Johnson, your friend just posted the bail for you so you are free to go." she informed him while opening the door. „But next time you visit a folk festival … please try to avoid trouble."

„I will." Kyle promised with an uncertain look at Lassiter.

„You better." Lassiter agreed with a smile. „And now you should go home. Its getting late."

Not only Kyle gave him a strange look for this. The chief seemed slightly confused about her detective´s behavior too. Lassiter just turned around and went back to his desk. It was better to drop the subject before it came to any more uncomfortable questions. He watched how Kyle and his friend left the station and though he tried not to, he couldn´t resist and stood up from his desk and walk to the front door, to look after them. He saw the two young men standing on the street in front of the station, talking with each other. They were gesticulating for the station and discussing wildly. Eventually they started to walk away, but they were still throwing glances backwards over their shoulders.

„Just get lost." Lassiter murmured to himself.

„Wow." a familiar voice said behind him and made him jump. How the hell did Shawn always sneak behind him without him noticing it? It seemed to run in the family that they always did this. „Usually you say that to me and much louder." the fake psychic said now. „Whats up with that guys."

„Nothing." Lassiter claimed. „Get lost, Spencer. What are you doing here anyway?"

„I sensed that something was going on here." Shawn said. „I wanted to know what it was."

„You sensed nothing." Lassiter replied. „You saw the fight and wanted to see how they book the guy."

„That too." Shawn admitted. „And I wanted to tease you with the fun you missed so far. Jules was step dancing with the other guys and Gus is probably still clapping around with his shoes. There is a band singing that sounds just great. Celtic Women they call themselves. You have no idea what you´re missing."

When Lassiter didn´t answer Shawn looked out of the door again. He already knew that his tries to tease the head detective were a lost course today. He clearly had other things on his mind. „So who are these guys?" he then asked again. „You know them?"

„No." Lassiter said a little too quickly to sound honest and walked away. „Excuse me. I have some work to do."

„Just one more sec." Shawn hold him back.

„What?" Lassiter asked annoyed.

Shawn didn´t say anything. He just hold up something that was packed into a green and white paper bag. The ornate writing on it read: Original Irish Corned Beef. Shawn lay it in the detective´s hand.

Lassiter looked down on it and felt awkward for a moment.

„Thanks." he murmured reluctantly.

With that he left the fake psychic behind and vanished behind his files. Shawn was musing though. Something was wrong with that picture. Lassiter hadn´t just walked away from him like he always did. It had almost looked like an escape. Something was definitely troubling him. And it had to do with those two guys from the festival.

...

„We need to do something." Russel urged his friend. They were still walking the streets more for the sake of moving against their anxiety than for any target they would have. They had just reached town and so far they hadn´t even found themselves a hotel to stay in, so what target could they have anyway?

„And what?" Kyle now asked his friend. „Have you thought about that too?"

„Damn Kyle thats the reason we are here." Russel insisted.

„I know, okay? You don´t need to tell me. Its my coin that led us here."

„Yeah and its getting darker and darker each day." Russel agreed. „I don´t know about you but I´m creeped out by that big deal. I mean seriously."

„You think I´m not?" Kyle shot back. „Its my family´s luck thats darkening here."

„Man, how did this guy even come here?" Russel whined. „Shouldn´t he be trapped in the lake Eerie? Wasn´t that the deal you made with him back then?"

„I don´t know how he made it." Kyle said looking at the pavement before his feet. „But he obviously convinced people that he is a POLICE OFFICER."

„Actually he is a detective." Russel corrected. When Kyle stopped in his steps and gave him a face he shrugged. „What? I saw it on his badge."

„I don´t care what he claims to be." Kyle said suddenly quiet angry. „When he is here, something bad is going to happen. We have to stop him. From whatever he plans to do."

„How?" Russel wanted to know.

Kyle sighed. „I don´t know." he admitted. „But one´s for sure. Now that we know its him, that brought us here … we are in much bigger trouble than we thought."

„You bet man." Russel agreed.

Kyle sighed in frustration. He hadn´t want to believe it back then. If Bonny hadn´t insisted on the possibility that it could mean trouble that his coin had shown a dark rim, he might have ignored it until it was too late. Now he knew she had been right. He would apologize to her when they were back home, he decided. How could he have been so blind?

They kept on walking. „We need to call my Granda." he then said and gave his friend a tap at the arm to show him he would cross the street now. Together they walked over to a drugstore that had a phone booth in front of it. Kyle dialed the number of his grandfather´s office by heart and after the third ring he had the familiar voice in the line, his Irish-old-man- accent as thick as ever.

„Granda its me." he said.

„Kyle." the old man cried excited. „What is it, boyo? Did ya find out what is going on witya coin?"

„I´m afraid I did." Kyle said.

„So what is it?" his grandfather sounded worried.

„Its Seamus, Granda." Kyle said. „He is back."

There was a brief silence in the line. „Seamus?" his grandfather finally asked. „Are ya talkin about Seamus McTiernan? Please tell me I got ya wrong."

„No you didn´t."

„Are ya sure its him?" the old man insisted on a second confirmation.

„I talked to him." Kyle said. „There´s no mistake."

Again there was silence on the other end and Kyle could almost see the serious and thoughtful face of his grandfather.

„I´m on my way to ya." the old man said determined. „Don´t do anything before I get t´ya."

Then he hung up.

...

„What are you looking at?" Gus asked when entering the psych office. He had found Shawn sitting on the computer, lots of prints lying on his desk. It almost looked as if his friend was working. Seriously working.

„Dude." Shawn said in a tone of awe. „He´s a basketballer."

„Who is a basketballer?" Gus asked.

„The guy from the fight yesterday. Remember that?"

„Of course I do." Gus replied. „I almost lost my Popsicle when the running dude passed me."

„Yeah, exactly. I´m talking about the guy that got arrested. Kyle Johnson his name is. He is playing for Junior League. I don´t know what his friend is doing exactly but … at least I found his name. Russel Holloway. He plays part time in the same team. I saw them at the station together. This Kyle guy is the most promising player this season. And the last two seasons too."

„So what?" Gus shrugged. „Famous people can misbehave too. Whats the big deal? Why are you investigating that?"

„Ah I don´t know, dude." Shawn admitted. „There was something odd about Lassie. I think he knows the guy."

„And?"

„It doesn´t make any sense. Kyle Johnson was never in Santa Barbara his whole life. And as far as we know Lassie has never been in Kyle´s home town in Utah either. But I found something else that is odd. It seems Kyle was involved in some strange things that happened several years ago." he started to read off one of his printings. „Including trespassing in a food factory, car chases and some strange things that happened on a basketball game, where his team won 76:74. These things got never really solved."

„So what?" Gus asked still not convinced. „The kid had an exciting youth. So did we. Whats the big deal?"

„The big deal is, that Kyle Johnson has neither relatives nor friends here in Santa Barbara. Why is he here, when his team is preparing for an important game next month?"

„Maybe he is on vacation." Gus offered a possibility.

„I don´t know, dude."

„What, is that your new phrase now?" Gus asked.

„What?"

„Whatever." Gus dismissed it. „I have no time for some random investigation we don´t get paid for anyway. I have to make some phone calls to arrange my appointments for the week. So if you excuse me."

While Gus sat down behind his own desk, Shawn leaned back in his seat and thought about the whole thing. What he had found so far didn´t make any sense. Maybe Gus was right and there was no connection at all. But no. He had seen Lassiter´s face when the two guys had left the station. Something was there. Something the head detective of the S.B.P.D. was involved in and what he didn´t want to talk about. Shawn had always been proud of the fact that he had a good instinct when it came about odd things. And this thing was an odd thing. He just had to know what it was.

He stood up and took his jacket and the keys to his motorcycle.

„Where are you going?" Gus asked.

„I want to have another look at this." Shawn said. „Something about all this is bothering me."

„Knock yourself out." Gus just said with a shrug. „But when you are going out anyway, then you can bring me some tapioca from the supermarket. Mine is empty."

Shawn gave him a salute with one finger and walked out of the door.