Vengeance Is Sweet… Unless You're On the Receiving End of It
(Vengeance is Sweet, but Pineapples are Sweeter)
Chapter Three: Vampires? Lots? A Lot of Vampires! Rider? Horses! No – Winona? Winona Ryder?
Shawn can't really be that stupid, Isabel thought. And the police can't really be that gullible. Isabel was quite enjoying the tales of Shawn's more unbelievable 'psychic occurances.'
"He started performing a musical number?" Isabel asked incredulously. "One called 'Dazzle and Stretch' no less! How did you even think of that, Shawn? I mean, the cat was psychic too? Really?"
"First of all," Shawn retorted. "I didn't name the musical number. The play's title was 'Dazzle and Stretch.' Second, it was a good idea! That cat was awesome… even if it did scratch up my arms like it was the spawn of Satan."
Isabel laughed, glancing at Shawn's sullen expression in the rear view mirror. She had opted out of taking Gus's car and had forced Shawn to sit in the backseat of hers. Gus had found it all rather amusing. He had never seen anyone act more stubbornly than Shawn. Even Henry lost against his son's tenacity most of the time. Isabel, however, seemed to be able to match his degree of persistence.
After Isabel had pulled into a parking spot at the police station, she turned in the driver's seat slightly to speak to Shawn. "So, pray tell: how are you going to explain me to the police department? If you're having a psychic vision about Mom disappearing, then how are you going to explain the fact that your cousin was with you and told you about the disappearance?"
"It's elementary, my dear Izzy," Shawn replied in a British accent. "I'll have a vision about something in Salem and then you'll come in. You can say that Dad pointed you in this direction. Gus can send you a text message when the time is right."
Isabel nodded and gave Gus her cell phone number before they left the car to enter the station. She was a bit disappointed, however. She would have enjoyed watching Shawn pretend to have a seizure for the police.
As soon as Shawn and Gus entered the police station, it began. Shawn began to stumble and move toward Chief Vick's office. Gus tore after him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. When Shawn burst into the office, the chief rose from her chair.
"Mr. Spencer – "
"What in the sweet name of justice are you doing now, Spencer?" Lassiter asked, entering Chief Vick's office with Juliet to see what Shawn was up to.
Despite the fact that when with Shawn Spencer you should be prepared for anything, everyone was shocked when Shawn attempted to latch his teeth onto Lassiter's neck. The Head Detective pushed him backwards with enough force that he nearly fell over, running into a chair with the amount of momentum.
"What the hell?"
"I vant to drink your blood," Shawn said in a horribly fake accent.
"Excuse me?" Chief Vick and Juliet questioned at the same time.
"He's in a trance," Gus explained. "He's getting some kind of message."
Shawn broke out of his Dracula impersonation. "Vampires?" he asked to no one in particular. As he spoke, he moved his head back and forth, as if in debate with himself. "Lots? A lot of vampires! Or… lots of vampires? No, no – a lot of vampires. Ah! Rider? Horses! No… Winona? Winona Ryder?"
"What is this about, Mr. Spencer?" Chief Vick asked as Gus slipped his cell phone back into his pocket.
Shawn jerked his body, as if he was coming out of a trance. "Salem," he finally said in a nonchalant manner, as if he hadn't just been speaking of vampires and Winona Ryder. "I'm getting Salem."
"And what do vampires and Winona Ryder have to do with Salem?" Lassiter asked.
"Lassy! I'm wounded! Didn't you understand the clues?" Lassiter glared and Chief Vick shrugged.
"'Salem's Lot," Juliet supplied. "It was about vampires. And Winona Ryder was in The Crucible. It was about the Salem Witch Trials."
"How do you know that off the top of your head, O'Hara?" Lassiter asked, incredulous and horrified.
"See, Lassy! Jules got the reference!" Shawn said triumphantly.
"Let's recreate the Witch Trials, Spencer," Lassiter growled. "Psychic is as close to witch as you can get.
Shawn pretended to look offended. "A witch is completely different from a psychic! Psychic have nice hair and motorcycles and are people-persons! Witches have warts and broomsticks and are drowned and burned at the stake!"
"And what does Salem have to do with anything, Mr. Spencer?" Chief Vick asked.
"Excuse me," Isabel said from the doorway. "I'm sorry to interrupt. Hey, Shawn. Uncle Henry said that I would find you here or at the Psych office," she explained, completely unfazed by the many sets of eyes upon her.
"Can I help you?" Chief Vick asked, trying to be polite despite at how annoyed she was with Shawn.
"I'm Isabel Spencer; I came to talk to Shawn. I live in Seattle and got a call from the Salem Police Department a few days ago; my mother's missing," Isabel explained politely.
"Good Lord, not another Spencer!" Lassiter groaned.
"Did you say Salem, Miss Spencer?" Chief Vick asked in disbelief.
"Yes, ma'am," Isabel said.
"Don't call me ma'am," the chief growled.
Shawn moved forward and grabbed Isabel's arm. He moved it wildly and Isabel struggled against the instinct to punch her cousin. It wouldn't be helpful at the moment. She made a mental note to do so later; her arm was already hurting from the way Shawn was making it flail around.
After a few moments, he stopped. He kept his hands on her arm, but didn't attempt to move it anymore. "Sara told the neighbors she was going to hike. The police think she's already dead – they're just looking for her body at this point."
"He's right," Isabel supplied when the Chief, Lassiter, and Juliet all turned to look at her. She was surprised that she was able to keep the annoyance out of her voice.
Shawn let go of her arm and grasped his knee, as if he were in pain. "But you don't think so, Izzy," he said in a pained hiss. "Her knee was bothering her too much to make hiking an option." Isabel had to try to stop herself from laughing. Shawn was so melodramatic. The way he was talking made it sound like he was dying.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Spencer," Chief Vick said. She looked at Isabel and blinked. "Miss Spencer, I can't help you. That is out of my jurisdiction. Way out of my jurisdiction."
"Chief, all I need – "
She cut him off. "I can't help you, Mr. Spencer. You're on your own."
Shawn spun around and swept from the office. Isabel raised an eyebrow and followed him from the room with Gus just behind her. Five minutes later, Shawn, Gus, and Isabel were out of the station and leaning on Isabel's car. "Brilliant performance, Shawn," Isabel mocked. "Too bad it didn't help anything. Good news, though; if we don't find my mom you might get an Oscar!"
"Just wait," Shawn said, hopping up onto the hood of his cousin's car. "Any minute now."
"He does realise that he isn't actually psychic, right?" Isabel asked Gus.
Gus shook his head. "Sometimes, I'm not sure he does."
"So, what vision did he have about Salem?" Isabel asked curiously. "I heard something about witches. Please tell me he didn't do the Salem Witch Trials."
"Sorry, Isabel. He did vampires and Winona Ryder," Gus said apologetically.
"Ugh!" she exclaimed, turning to Shawn. "You disgust me. The best you could come up with was 'Salem's Lot and The Crucible? Really?"
Shawn opened his mouth to retort, but then just grinned. Gus and Isabel turned to see what he was grinning at. Juliet was walking towards them with a small stack of papers. She handed the papers to Shawn, who took them with a grin.
"Aw, Jules – for me? What is it? Wait, I know what it is," he held up a hand to his head. "It's your written confession of undying love for a handsome and witty psychic with great hair, isn't it?"
Juliet rolled her eyes. "Sorry to disappoint you, Shawn, but no. It's Sara Spencer's missing person's report. I just printed it out. Chief Vick is right, though; we can't help you can find evidence that she's in Santa Barbara. Good luck, though."
"Aw, that's sweet, Jules! You sure you don't want to come? It'll be fun! A road trip! We can take Lassy along and put him on trial!" Isabel laughed at her cousin. It wasn't hard to see that Shawn was quite infatuated with Juliet.
Juliet turned to Isabel. "Hi," she said. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Juliet."
"Nice to meet you too," Isabel replied. She could tell that she would get along well with the Junior Detective. "I'm Isabel."
"So you're Shawn's cousin?" Juliet asked inquisitively.
Isabel rolled her eyes. "Wish I wasn't," she groaned.
"Izzy!" Shawn exclaimed, putting a hand to his heart. "I'm hurt! You wish you weren't related to me? That's cold."
"My name isn't Izzy, Shawn. I have told you this dozens of times! And who would want to be related to you? You are a walking, talking migraine inducer." Isabel folded her arms and glared at her cousin.
Juliet chuckled. "I hope you find your mother, Isabel. Try not to kill Shawn – he really does help out too much for us to lose him." She turned to Shawn and Gus before leaving. "Have fun in Salem; try not to kill each other."
Shawn started shouting after her as she returned to the station. "Come on, Jules! You sure you don't want to come? Then you can make sure we don't kill each other yourself!" He waited for a response. When he got none, he spoke again. "Fine! That's okay, Jules! But next time we go to Mexico, you're not invited!"
"Shawn!" Gus exclaimed. "We aren't going to Mexico again!"
Shawn paused for a moment. "Agree to disagree."
"No, I won't! I'm not going to Mexico, Shawn! Not again!"
"Shawn," Isabel interrupted. "Are you planning to leave for Salem today?"
"I don't see why not," he replied.
"Perhaps because it's a trip that takes a day and a half and that it's already four o'clock?"
"Fine, fine; we'll leave tomorrow," Shawn relented. "What do we do until then?"
Isabel rolled her eyes. "You could get some psychic vibes from Mom's case file," she mocked.
"You know, Izzy, the psychic jabs have got to end at some point. There are only so many psychic-related jokes out there."
"Go ahead and think that, Shawn," Isabel said with a grin. "I have years of torment to make up for."
"How do you have years of torment to make up for?" Shawn asked incredulously. "We only saw each other once a year at most – once every other year at worst. How does that add up to years of torment?"
"Once a year with you is enough. I feel bad for Gus, though. He has to put up with you twenty-four seven."
"I'm not doing anything, Shawn," Gus said. "I'm going back to work. And if I hear anyone talking about Mrs. Pickles I will kill you."
The three piled into Isabel's car to return to the Psych office. "Who is Mrs. Pickles?" Isabel asked incredulously as she started to drive back to the office.
"Gus's orange tabby cat," Shawn responded with a grin.
"The imaginary cat that Shawn made up to get me out of work!"
Isabel laughed. "How does an imaginary cat make you leave work?"
He tells my co-workers that Mrs. Pickles is dying or injured or having kittens and if I don't leave, they would probably call PETA and then I'd get fired because they would find out I was leaving work for no reason," Gus said angrily.
Isabel laughed once more and pulled into the parking spot she had used earlier. She and Shawn bid Gus farewell as he got into his own car to return to work for a few hours. The cousins retired to the office and Shawn collapsed on the couch once more. Isabel wondered if Shawn was capable of just sitting in a chair. She took a seat in a chair beside the couch and closed her eyes. She could feel the beginnings of a headache.
"You okay, Izzy?"
Isabel opened her eyes to see Shawn looking at her with an eyebrow raised. She was surprised to hear genuine concern in his voice. "Yeah, Shawn," she said. "It's just been a long day."
Shawn gave her a look that clearly displayed his disbelief in her statement. "Don't worry," he said confidently. "We'll find her."
Isabel was slightly shocked. She had forgotten how easily Shawn could read her. This in and of itself confused her. Shawn was horrible at reading people. Gus had confirmed this fact in telling her of how many times he got the wrong guy on a case and sometimes even dated the culprit. If he was so horrible at reading people, then how did he read her so well?"
"How are you so sure?" Isabel asked. "And don't even think about saying 'psychic' unless you want me to cause bodily harm."
Shawn sat up and looked Isabel in the eye. "I'm sure, Iz. We'll find her." He grinned when he spoke again in his familiar, childish manner. "And if we don't, my father will murder me. Gleefully. Most likely with fishing line."
Isabel laughed and Shawn's grin widened. "Thanks, Shawn," she said. "Now, you are making room at your apartment for me tonight."
His eyebrow rose once more. "Really? I don't think I received that message."
"Well, now you have," Isabel stated with a smile. "As much as I love your dad, I really don't want to spend more time at his house than necessary. I hate fish."
Shawn shrugged and grinned. "Okay, I understand. You can stay if you want."
Okay, I would really appreciate feedback! Especially since this is my favourite chapter. You have no idea how much fun it was to write the scene with Shawn's vision. Seriously, some of the most fun I had writing ever.
How about this: if you give me a review (anything at all), I will tell you the titles of some of the sequels I have planned. Maybe you'll be able to figure out the plot from the title. I may give a better reward if you can guess the plotline.
