Note: And we're back with chatper three! I've had it done, but it took me longer than I thought to be able to get it up; sorry about that. It's not too terribly late, though...right? O:) Anyways, hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Three - Hindsight is Always Really Good

Thursday, 4:43pm

Shawn faded gradually into consciousness. He'd been doing that a lot over the past hour…at least, he thought it was probably an hour. It was getting harder to tell.

"Stupid," he muttered, wanting to aim the word at the snake but applying it to himself just as easily. "Stupid, stupid, stupid…" He had fallen right into their game, too. It had been a simple trap, at best; and he had walked straight into it like the idiot that he was.

"Stupid."

*~.~:":~.~*

Tuesday, 2:15am

In hindsight, Shawn knew that it probably hadn't been a good idea to sneak out of the casino and tail Johns and Sincha when they'd left, without permission. Or backup. Or a weapon other than a Swiss army knife. But Chief Vick and the Las Vegas police had made it very clear that their first few days were to be purely spent feeling the suspects out at the casino, and making them comfortable with their presence. Anyways, the Las Vegas police had tailed them before, and seen nothing out of the ordinary.

Shawn had never been good at following orders, though; especially when patience was required. There was something about the whole charade that didn't add up. After all, why would two not so bright petty crooks from Santa Barbara flash their ill-gotten wealth at a casino, where their game could be up in a second, but never visit their cache and replenish their spending money? They clearly didn't keep it at their hotel; the building had been searched at least twice. But since that was so, the Vegas police who had tailed them should have seen something out of the ordinary. They were horrible betters, they had to have raided their stash of cash at least once a day. So why hadn't the police caught them at it?

It was an altogether horrendous set-up, and one that Shawn couldn't resist checking out. He'd taken a selfish moment to push Lassiter's buttons, then quickly changed out of his uncomfortable tuxedo into street clothes---using an empty dining room that shared a lobby with the gambling section of the building---and gotten outside just in time to catch a glimpse of them and follow.

Beforehand, it had been a brilliant plan. He tailed Gus and Lassiter all the time; he was a master at the art. He'd pop after them, snap a few incriminating pictures; he could close the case in one night. He'd even called and left a message for Gus at the hotel, detailing his brilliance. Easy as pineapple.

In hindsight, however, staring down the muzzle of Johns' gun, he really should have called for backup.

"Hey, guys!" he forced a fake, cheerful smile and tried to pretend like everything was cool, like there was not a gun pointed at his head. "Fancy meeting you here…tonight…all alone in this dark alley. Sorry to have crashed your party, I guess I should have just taken that left turn at Albuquerque. So if you'll excuse me, I'll just leave you to it and try and find my way---"

"Shut up!" Johns snapped. "You talk too much. Sincha, tie him up." The smaller man pulled a rope out of his coat pocket and moved around behind Shawn. He sighed theatrically.

"Come on, are you guys really that mad that I beat you in poker? I'm donating the money to a good cause, you know; it's not like I'm keeping it all for myself. Isn't that good enough for you guys? Or do you have a different charity other than "Save the Dolphins" that you'd rather I give something to? Come on, talk to me; I'mm flexible!"

"Didn't I just tell you to shut up? Look, cut the crap! I know that you're not some showy rich kid out for a good time or charity in Vegas. You're a cop! Where are you from, huh? You ain't no Vegas boy."

"I take great offense to that!" Shawn sniffed indignantly. "I am not a cop, thank you very much; and how dare you think so? I am in fact a psychic. Psychic detective, actually. Get it right."

"Psychic?" Johns snorted. "Well that's a load of crap!"

"Is it?" Shawn asked. "Is it really? I doubt that the spirits are going to like that you said that…"

"Can you prove it?" Riley asked from behind him, pulling the knots tight on the ropes around his wrist and reaching into his pocket to remove his iPhone and toss it away. Johns gave and angry grunt and glared at his partner, and Shawn grinned.

"Of course! I'm getting vibeage like you wouldn't believe right now. For example, you two are petty thieves from California, the Santa Barbara area---you know, it's really much more effective a demonstration if I'm not tied up; then I could use my "hand-to-my-head" move. It sells the whole thing much better to you skeptics---and a couple of weeks ago, you robbed a bank!" He shook his head, laughing. "And then you just came out here to Vegas and started spending it! As if the police wouldn't be able to track it…" He trailed off as he noticed the satisfied smirk of Johns' face. Partially understanding dawned on him with a start. "But that was all exactly what you wanted. You weren't after the money at all, not really. That was just so that you could lure your real target here! But the question is, who are you really after…?" He cut off abruptly as something hard struck him in the head. Whatever he had been about to say died as he crumpled, unconscious, to the ground.

Riley dropped the piece of piping that he'd used to club the psychic, and it rolled noisily away. He looked up and met Johns' eyes.

"What are we going to do about him?" he asked. "He knows way too much."

"We'll do like we planned if anything got in our way; we dump him, and stay on schedule. We've got bigger game than this." Johns kicked at Shawn's body, and put away his gun. "Get him in the truck."

*~.~:":~.~*

Gus got back to the table where he'd been comparing notes with Shawn and Juliet after the suspects left, to find the former missing. He glanced at Juliet.

"Hey, where did Jake go?" he asked carefully, remembering to keep up their undercover charade. "I thought that I left him with you."

"He told me that he was going to get us all drinks; tequila or something," his friend answered. "He just left a minute ago." Gus frowned, and his character was dropped instantly.

"I passed the bar on my way back from the bathroom, Juliet. He wasn't there."

"Are you sure?" she asked, standing up out of her seat and scanning the crowded room for him.

"Positive. He wasn't there."

"I don't see him," she said, a touch of worry creeping into her tone. Gus tried not to let his own concern show.

"He probably just met some pretty girl and took her off alone to flirt," he said uneasily. "This is Vegas, you know."

"Do you really think that he'd do that?" Juliet asked, her frown matching Gus's.

"Yes; but I think that he'd buy her a drink, not take her off alone. Not when we're on a case."

"Carlton would know if he's still here or not," the detective suggested, changing the subject quickly. "He's been working security at the door all night."

"We should probably go talk to him, just to be sure…" Gus said hesitantly. To his relief, Juliet agreed immediately.

"Everything is probably fine, though," she said as they navigated their way through the crowded room.

"Yeah, sure. We've just got to check because it's our job."

"Oh, totally." They kept up rationalizing the situation until they found Lassiter in the lobby, visibly irritated in the way that only Shawn could do it. Gus immediately inquired after his best friend.

"Did you see him leave?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, I saw him leave," the detective growled. "And if I had my way, he wouldn't be coming back, either."

"Why did he leave?" Juliet asked. "He was supposed to be getting us drinks."

"I don't know, and I don't care. I don't believe it, but he said that the strain of being so near to such clearly guilty suspects wore him out, and that he was heading back to the hotel to rest; and if we didn't hear from him by morning, to call him. As if we wouldn't have broken down his door by then, anyways." Gus and Juliet exchanged a concerned glance. Even Shawn rarely got Lassiter that worked up.

"What else did he say to you?" Gus asked.

"Nothing that I'm ever going to repeat." He shook his head angrily. "I need a drink."

"Are you sure that he's okay?" Juliet asked, stopping her partner from rushing straight to the bar. "Usually, when Shawn goes off on his own, he ends up getting himself into trouble."

"He's a mature---well, he's an adult, I think," Carlton said. "I think that he can manage to get back to his hotel on his own. Now if you'll excuse me, my shift is over; I'm getting myself a drink." He headed for the bar. Juliet sighed and glanced at Gus, who didn't look at all convinced.

"Do you think that he did something stupid?" she asked. Gus shrugged.

"Of course I do! It's Shawn. I just hope that it's nothing that's going to get him killed." He sighed. "I'm going to call him." He drew his cell phone out of his pocket and started to dial.

"Why don't you call the hotel, first, and see if he went in?" Juliet suggested. "If he really did tell Carlton the truth and he's just tired, we shouldn't disturb him."

"I guess you're right…" Gus dialed the number for the hotel, and after a moment, the line was picked up by a sweet-voiced lady.

"Barna Hotel and Suites, Las Vegas, how may I help you?"

"Hi, my name is Barry Longbottom. I have a question for my friend in suite 429, Jake Fuller. Can you connect me to his room?" There was a brief pause.

"I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Fuller has not returned to the hotel yet. But he did call and leave a message for you, would you like to hear it?"

"Yes, please." Juliet tapped his shoulder lightly.

"Well?"

"He's not there, but he left a message. I---" he stopped talking as a recorded message of Shawn started playing on the other end of the call. As he listened, his face fell, and the worry that he'd been trying to ignore came back in full force. He moaned.

"Shawn, you idiot!"

*~.~:":~.~*

Wendsday, 10:48am

He stormed into the Las Vegas police station, nearly giving a couple of young rookies heart attacks. He ignored them and their startles gasps, and headed straight for the interrogation rooms. An officer chased after him, trying in vain to slow him down.

"Wait, sir! You're not authorized to be in there---" He ignored the man and pushed through the door, and came face to face with a tired Gus. Behind him, Lassiter and Juliet studied him.

"Mr. Spencer!" Gus stammered in surprise. Henry glanced between the three of them, a wild look that wasn't quite sane in his eyes.

"Alright, let me at 'em!" he snapped. "Let me talk to the guys who hurt my son."

*~.~:":~.~*

Note: So thoughts, anyone? This isn't my favorite chapter, but there are parts of it that I REALLY like; but tell me what you think. Chapter four should be up...fairly soon, though I'd like to have the rest of the story done before I post much more here, so I can't say *exactly* when. Pray that the muse helps me with the last couple of chapters! (: