Lassiter put his phone back in his pocket and turned to where Spencer was still sitting in the passenger seat. "Get out of the car, Spencer," Lassiter demanded as the wind whipped around him. It was sunny outside, but the beach had allowed a breeze to crop up.
"I'm not going in there," Shawn shouted back through the closed window. His seat belt was fastened still, his arms were crossed and he had a scowl on his face.
"He's not here if that's what you're worried about. He moved out after you left. The house has been empty." Lassiter flung a hand back at the familiar beach house.
"It doesn't matter," Shawn shouted again.
"You get in that house, or we have no chance at finding O'Hara." Lassiter ordered him.
Shawn gave Lassiter a death glare, but slowly got out of the car. "You're sure he isn't here." He glanced around as if his dad would be hiding behind a tree waiting to pounce.
"He moved out right after you left, but never sold the house." Lassiter explained.
"Then why are we here. The odds of my dad still having internet is very slim." Shawn looked confused.
Lassiter didn't respond and motioned for the younger man to follow him around to the back of the house. The detective pulled out his keyring and unlocked the door.
"He gave you keys?" Shawn was surprised.
"He asked me to check up on the house every once in a while," Lassiter mumbled and then opened the door.
Shawn cautiously walked in and stopped short. The table that had once held fishing paraphernalia now held files. There was a cork board propped up on one chair with newspaper clippings tacked to it. On top of everything was a fine layer of dust.
Lassiter shoved past him and immediately pulled out his laptop. He was finally grateful for the wireless cards the department provided. He had told the chief they were a waste of department resources when they were handed out.
While Lassiter was busy with the laptop, Shawn slowly went over to the cork board. The newspaper clippings were all about him. Some of them were from cases that Shawn had solved, but most of them were from after he had left. The headlines read things like 'SBPD reveals Psychic to be Fraud' and 'Not So Psychic After All'.
"He tried to find you right after you left, but you really did a good job hiding yourself." Lassiter remarked.
"It wasn't that hard," Shawn said quietly.
"How are you going to find O'Hara without the police computer?" Lassiter asked as soon as his laptop was ready to go.
"If she still uses the same bank, we can track her payment history." Shawn sat down in front of the computer.
"I doubt she's still using the same password as she was eight years ago." Lassiter frowned, as he watched over Shawn's shoulder.
"She's not, but she was born in Miami, which is the answer to her security question." Shawn pointed to the screen. "Bingo," He gave a small smile and scrolled through the most recent charges Juliet had made on her card.
"That's the coffee shop she likes just down the street from the station," Lassiter pointed to a charge made Sunday afternoon.
Shawn nodded, "Monday she bought lunch on Randolph St." He turned to Lassiter. "Her boyfriend doesn't even pay for her lunch when they're on vacation together?"
"Focus, Spencer, Randolph isn't on the way to the cabin."
Shawn turned back to the computer and quickly glanced through all the charges, the last being Tuesday night at a restaurant. "I know where she went,"
"Where?" Lassiter couldn't make heads or tails of the charges.
"There's a camp ground a couple hours from here that she loves. She always wanted me to go up there," Shawn brought up a map of the area.
Both men froze as Lassiter's phone rang.
"Is it the chief?" Shawn whispered.
Lassiter grimly shook his head and then put the phone on speaker, setting it gently on the table.
The voice that came over the phone was garbled and the gender was indistinguishable. "Detective, I really hope you aren't trying to play hero." Even with the distortion there was a definite chiding tone to the voice.
"Where's Juliet?" Shawn asked.
"Shawn, is that you?" The voice seemed surprised. "I didn't think Detective Lassiter would actually try to track you down. But I am so glad that he did so. If you would give yourself up to me things would go so much better for everyone." The voice laughed. "Well, until I kill you."
"Why are you doing this?" Shawn tried to ask, but there was a click and a dial tone.
Neither of the two men moved right away. Slowly Lassiter put his phone back in his pocket.
"We should get going," Lassiter spoke up, closing his laptop. "If we leave now we should be able to get to that camp ground before it gets too late."
Shawn winced as the detective used the phrase 'too late'. But he stood and nodded. "We should probably get out of town anyway. If the chief is set on looking for me, she'll probably look here eventually."
"What do we do if they never made it to the camp ground?" Lassiter asked once they were sitting in the car again.
Shawn clenched his jaw. "We call him back and arrange for a trade."
OoO OoO OoO OoO
Gus sat at his desk. The chief had just called him. He hadn't spoken to anyone in the department for almost as long as Shawn had been gone. Juliet emailed him occasionally, but Gus could tell she really didn't want to. He was sure that all he did was remind her of Shawn. That's why Henry stopped talking to him. That's why Gus had transferred to the Goleta branch of West Coast Pharmaceuticals.
The chief had called him to see if Shawn had contacted him. Shawn hadn't bothered Gus since Gus had left him that voice mail. She hadn't told Gus why she was asking, but Gus could only think of one thing; Shawn was back in town.
He looked at his cell phone and opened it several times before dialing Juliet's number. The phone rang a dozen times before going to voice mail. Gus frowned, but once he set his mind to find out something, he was going to find it out. He dialed Lassiter's number.
"Guster, I can't talk right now." Lassiter snapped into the phone after a couple of rings.
Gus could tell he was in a car and was about to say something when he heard something he hadn't expected to hear.
"Don't tell him I'm here, Lassie. We have to find Jules before I deal with him."
"I think he heard you," Lassiter snapped again, not to Gus, but to the other occupant of the car.
"Lassiter, is Shawn there with you?" Gus tried to keep himself calm. "The chief called and wanted to know if I had heard from him."
There was some muffled arguing. Gus guessed that Lassiter had put the phone against his shirt so he could talk to Shawn.
"Guster, I promise we'll talk about it, but I really can't right now." Lassiter's voice was tense and he was trying not to just hang up on the man. "And so help me, if you even think about calling his dad I will personally make it so you can't sell pharmaceuticals in the state of California."
Gus was about to respond when there was more muffled static, and then Shawn was talking to him.
"Look, buddy," Shawn swallowed. "I've got something I need to do, then we can have a fist fight, or yell at each other until we lose our voices, I promise. I'm not going to run the moment that I get done with this thing." Then there was silence.
Gus sighed. Whatever Shawn was involved in, it was bad if he wouldn't even consider talking to Gus first.
OoO OoO OoO OoO
The campground was quiet as Lassiter pulled into a parking lot. The main office was a small red building with a worn look to it. Despite looking old the place had a little bit of charm to it.
"God forsaken place," Lassiter grumbled as he pocketed the keys in his jacket pocket and headed for the office.
"I can see why she would like it though," Shawn glanced around at the cabins that dotted the area surrounding the parking lot. He didn't see any cars other than a truck parked on the other side of the lot, but that made sense. From the map at the entrance to the property there were dozens of cabins that couldn't be seen from the main office.
Shawn narrowed his eyes and tried to read the logo painted on the side of the truck. It looked familiar, but he guessed his eyesight wasn't as good as it had been, because the lettering was hard to make out.
"Spencer, we don't have all day to sight-see," Lassiter snapped, bringing Shawn back to the matter at hand.
A bell dinged above the door as Lassiter and Shawn entered the office.
"Can I help you with something?" The man behind the counter put down his newspaper and looked at Lassiter expectantly.
"Head Detective Carlton Lassiter," Lassiter flashed his badge at the man. "I'm looking for a young couple that came up here earlier in the week. Blond woman, early thirties. She would have been with a dark-haired man, also early thirties."
The man nodded, "Yup, they checked in on Monday night, haven't seen 'em since though. Seemed real nice, had plenty of supplies."
Shawn was letting Lassiter do the talking, it gave him a chance to look around the office. There were snack foods and drinks that could be bought. Different necessities that a traveler might forget.
"Which cabin were they staying in?" Lassiter asked.
"They were in the Rain Tree Lodge," The man pulled out a map. "I can take you down there if you like,"
"We'll be fine," Lassiter assured him, taking the map.
As the two men headed for the cabin, Lassiter checked his glock to make sure it was ready for use.
"At least we know she got here," Shawn muttered, more to fill the silence then anything.
Lassiter nodded, biting back a wince. They had been doing a lot of walking and he could feel the toll it was taking on his leg. But he couldn't slow down. Not when O'Hara was in trouble.
The cabin was just on the other side of the trees from the main office. As they broke through the tree line, Lassiter motioned for Shawn to slow down. Neither of them had any idea what might lay ahead.
The cabin looked peaceful enough, Shawn thought as they slowly approached from the back. It was probably only a room or two. It looked like there was a fireplace.
"Just be careful," Lassiter whispered as they rounded the corner.
When they reached the porch, Shawn's stomach churned. There was an unsettled feeling about the whole place.
Lassiter slowly opened the door, preparing himself for the worst. The cabin looked used, but not abused. There were two suitcases sitting next to the couch. Nothing seemed out of place.
"We know they got here then," Lassiter murmured as he moved farther into the cabin.
"Lassie," Shawn stayed close to the detective, "There's something under that blanket."
There was a plaid blanket laying on the couch, it was draped over something that gave it definite shape.
Lassiter moved towards the blanket, gun drawn and poised to shoot. He flung the blanket back and quickly put both hands on his gun.
Shawn's stomach churned once again, and he immediately grabbed in Lassiter's jacket for the keys.
"Spencer, what the hell are you doing?" Lassiter was thrown off guard and he didn't realize what exactly Spencer was doing until the younger man turned and ran out the door.
"This is something I have to do myself, Lassie." He yelled back.
Lassiter tried to run after him and maybe eight years ago Lassiter would have been able to catch him, but with a leg that hurt like hell and Spencer's head start it was useless. He made it to just outside the cabin when he saw Spencer dashing into the trees.
"Spencer!" He yelled after the younger man once more and then slammed his hand against the support beam of the cabin porch. Shawn Spencer was in the wind, and he knew something Lassiter didn't. That had always been the case with the two of them, but this time it scared Lassiter. It scared him more then he wanted to admit to himself.