Juliet snapped her phone shut and sighed, running a tired hand through her hair.
"Gus is at the hospital," She reported to her partner, who was sitting at his desk quietly. "The doctors said he's going to be fine. He's just banged up from the car accident and whatever it was that happened to him while he was missing."
"What about the fact that he can't remember anything?" Lassiter questioned, his eyes betraying the worry that his voice was hiding so carefully.
"They're not sure yet—he just got there. But I'd guess that he suffered from a head trauma in the car crash. That combined with the emotional trauma of what happened to him…" Juliet sighed again and walked over to her desk, plopping down into her chair. She leaned forward onto her desk and buried her head in her arms. "I can't believe this is happening," Her muffled voice barely carried to Lassiter's desk.
After a few moments, O'Hara heard the not-so-subtle sound of a throat being cleared.
"What?" She snapped at her partner, who was standing above her.
"Why don't you go to the hospital? Be there for Guster when he wakes up. I can handle things here," Lassiter's voice was uncharacteristically soft and considerate.
Juliet shook her head vigorously, "No. No, no way. There is no chance I'm leaving while Shawn is still out there," She insisted. Lassiter looked like he was going to argue, but Juliet didn't give him the chance. She jumped to her feet and pressed further. "Don't, Carlton. Shawn is my friend and I am going to find him. If you think you can sit me on the bench, you're wrong. I could easily make up an excuse for why I had to shoot you."
Lassiter suppressed a grin at his partner's aggression. He'd taught her well.
"Okay. Calm down, O'Hara. It was just a suggestion."
Juliet groaned and slumped back into her chair, burying her face once more. "I'm sorry, Carlton. I'm just stressed."
Lassiter wisely allowed Juliet a moment to recollect herself before he spoke. "You're right, O'Hara."
Her head popped up to reveal her confused face. "About what?"
Lassiter leaned forward onto Juliet's desk. "Spencer is still out there."
Those five words brought a visible change to O'Hara's face. She clenched her fists and her eyes hardened. "You're right. Let's go find him."
OooOooO
"You know, Mr. Spencer, you really are trying my patience."
"Wow. I impress even myself. You seem like an uber-patient kind of guy."
Shawn's sarcastic quip bought him another Earth shattering blow to the gut. He grunted loudly.
"Yep," He breathed painfully, "super patient. Hospitable, too. You must make your mom proud."
Rough hands grabbed Shawn's hair and jerked his head back. In the low lighting, Shawn couldn't see his captor's face, but he could feel his hot breath on his neck.
"You are walking a very thin line, Mr. Spencer. I'd be careful if I were you," Pierce Manning's gravelly voice warned.
"Well, that could be a problem. I have very big feet."
Manning released his grip on Shawn's head and paced away from him, chuckling lightly and humorlessly. "You are something, Spencer. You've got guts; I'll give you that. You're also an idiot." Though Shawn still couldn't see him, he could hear Pierce pacing a few feet out of range of the cliché light hanging right above him. "But I can't help but wonder," The pacing stopped, "How were you able to identify me?"
Shawn smiled triumphantly. "Easily."
"Come on, Gus! We're going to be late!" Shawn whined, jingling the keys to the blueberry in front of his best friend's face.
"Late for what, Shawn? The movie doesn't start for another two hours," Gus countered. He didn't budge from his place on thePsych office couch.
"But dude! The previews start way before that, and they're the best part!"
Gus rolled his eyes. "The previews don't start until the movie's scheduled time." It was all Gus could do to keep himself from laughing at his friend's crestfallen look. "Anyways, I want to watch this."
"Sweet!" Shawn cried happily, jumping over the back of the couch to land with a bounce next to Gus. "You make the popcorn!" Gus looked at him exasperatedly. "What? You're closer!"
When Gus didn't reply, Shawn turned his short attention to the television screen.
"The news? Seriously, man?" Shawn reached for the remote. "You know what? I think there's aMagnum marathon on—ow!" Gus had slapped his hand away from the remote.
"What part of 'I want to watch this' do you not understand?" Gus asked, voice thick with annoyance.
"The 'want' part. It's the news. Nobody under the age of fifty willingly watches the news instead of Tom Selleck and his glorious stache!"
"I'll have you know, Shawn, that that man on the screen, Pierce Manning, is said to be one of the brightest, most innovative minds of the 21stcentury."
Shawn glanced at the man Gus indicated. In that one glance he took in several details about Pierce Manning. He was young—early to mid thirties. Despite his name, his features were distinctly Italian: his olive complexion, straight nose, high cheekbones, and his dark brown hair and eyes. The man seemed tall—whether that was due to actual height or his domineering demeanor, Shawn couldn't tell. When he talked, the man had a deep, gravelly voice.
"With this research, my company will be able to save countless lives," Manning was saying.
Shawn, naturally, zoned out almost immediately. "Dude. That guy has incredible hair," He mused to his best friend.
Gus just rolled his eyes and sighed, "This guy is talking about advancing technology in ways that will save lives and all you see is his hair?"
Shawn scoffed. "It's one thing to say he will, and another thing to do it. I bet it's a scam. Just a way to get money."
Gus cocked his head to the side as he studied the figure on the screen. "I don't know. He seems like a good guy to me."
Shawn couldn't help but laugh out loud at the irony.
"Would you like to elaborate, Mr. Spencer?" Manning asked, bringing Shawn back to reality. Though he still hadn't seen his face, Shawn was able to identify Pierce easily by his distinctive voice.
"I sensed you. You know, psychically. You have a very distinctive aura—a nice sage orange—"
"Sage is green."
"I've heard it both ways."
Shawn could practically feel Manning's eyebrow rise and he heard a light chuckle from his direction. "Is that so?" The man's pacing had started up again. "Well, then, if you are psychic, you should be able to 'sense' what will happen to you if you don't tell me where Melissa Archer is."
"Catch!" Shawn yelled a short warning a few seconds too late. A squishy, pineapple shaped stress toy hit Gus square in the face.
"Shawn!" Gus cried indignantly. "You did that on purpose."
Shawn gasped and covered his mouth with his hand in mock offense. "I resent that. I told you to 'catch.'"
"Yes, but it doesn't count if you warn me half a second before it hits my face!" Gus accused.
"Does too!"
"Does not!"
"Does too!"
"Does not!"
"Does too!"
"Excuse me?" A new, feminine voice came from the doorway to thePsych office.
Shawn spun around to see a young woman in her late twenties standing behind him. She had wavy blonde hair halfway down her back, and deep, green eyes that were bright with tears. Her brown mascara was smeared down her face.
"Hi there," Gus greeted flirtatiously, standing up from his desk.
"Seriously, man?" Shawn said incredulously, shooting an accusing glare at his best friend. Gus shrugged it off and turned back to the woman in the doorway, who was looking incredibly confused. "I'm sorry about my partner. He was just released from the mental hospital last week."
It was Gus's turn to shoot Shawn an accusing glare.
"How may we help you?" Gus asked genially.
"Oh, um…I-I need help," The woman's voice was shaky and panicked.
"Well, you've come to the right place," Shawn said brightly. "Why don't you have a seat," he offered, gesturing to a plush armchair. The woman accepted gratefully. "What's your name?"
"Melissa Archer," The woman told him, running her hand through her hair. "I just saw my fiancé murder someone."
OooOooO
Juliet made her way through the station with new purpose. She came to her partner's desk and slammed his newly filled coffee mug down on the wooden surface.
"He was trying to leave us a message," She announced, leaning forward and staring at her partner intently.
"Uh, what?" Lassiter spluttered, caught off guard by Juliet's exuberance.
"Shawn, he was trying to leave us a message."
"Well, I got that. My first clue was Guster coming in here and saying 'I have a message for you from Shawn Spencer,'" Lassiter said sarcastically.
"No!" Juliet threw her hands in the air in frustration. "What I mean is that he hid clues in all the things he said. That is, unless you and Shawn really do make bets over football and you borrow movies from Gus."
"Of course he did, O'Hara. Why is this such a big revelation?"
"Well, I'm sorry, Carlton. I was a little overwhelmed with the fact that Shawn has been kidnapped and Gus doesn't remember who he is!" She cried shrilly.
"Okay, okay. That's fair enough, O'Hara. Do you know what the clues mean?"
Juliet smiled triumphantly. "I think I do—well, most of them anyways."
"So we have something about the Colts and the Giants, something about golden eyes and dying another day, something about a guy named Norton, and that he wanted to tell you he's sorry and you'll know why," Lassiter listed automatically, easily able to recite them after the many times he had thought through them.
Juliet shifted uncomfortably at the last on the list. "What is it? What does the last mean?" Carlton asked gently.
"He means that he's sorry he lied. He promised he wouldn't do anything stupid and he did," She muttered, shuffling her feet and staring at her toes.
There was an awkward moment of silence before Lassiter cleared his throat. "Okay. And what about the others?"
"Well," Juliet began, straightening with purpose, "first we have the Colts and the Giants. What do the Colts and the Giants have in common?" She asked in a tone that clearly indicated that she knew the answer.
"I don't know. They're both nouns?" Lassiter guessed, clueless.
Juliet almost laughed. "Football teams, Carlton. They're both football teams. You really didn't know that?"
Lassiter shrugged. "No guns in football," He said simply.
"Okay… Well, in addition to being football teams, both of them have a Manning as a quarterback. Payton Manning is the quarterback for the Colts, and Eli Manning is the quarterback for the Giants. So it's safe to guess that the name 'Manning' has something to do with this."
"I don't know, O'Hara. How are you sure that he wasn't referring to a location at which both teams played recently?" Lassiter pointed out.
"Because they haven't played each other recently. Moving on to the next, he said you borrowed his Bond movies, something about golden eyes and dying another day. I'm guessing that he's referring to the movies 'Golden Eye' and 'Die Another Day.'"
"Both movies that star Pierce Brosnan!" Lassiter declared.
"That one you know…" Juliet mumbled under her breath.
"So we can assume that the name 'Pierce' has something to do with it. So, what, Manning Pierce is our guy?" Lassiter said uncertainly.
"Nope," Juliet smiled, grabbing a newspaper from the side of Lassiter's desk, whipping it open, and jamming her finger on a giant photograph in the middle. The photo showed a confident looking Italian man standing behind a podium, seemingly giving a speech.
"Pierce Manning."
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