A/N: I don't own any of the " Psych" characters and I am not making any money from writing this.

Please forgive any minor spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.

I apologize for such a late update. I had a writer's block on this story, and I got caught up with other projects. But now I'm back. Here is chapter four; the fifth and final one will follow soon after. I hope you enjoy them. Big thanks to Loafer for beta reading this story and providing me with some really helpful advice! I really appreciate it.

Juliet woke up a minute before her alarm clock was to go off. She groaned, rolling her eyes. She had to pull up last bits of her strength to lean over and turn the alarm clock off before allowing that annoying sound to crash through her bedroom.

And, apparently, all of her effort was for nothing, because, a minute later, her ringtone went off. She groaned in frustration, now led by pure rage. She sat up in bed and grabbed the phone off her bedside table.

She actually felt better upon seeing his name written over the screen. There was just something nice and comforting about hearing his voice in the morning... since she was awake already, after all. But then she remembered it must have been case related. Most likely. Or maybe... She sighed and answered the call. "Hallo?"

"Good morning." Carlton's voice sounded a bit odd, serious and kind of gentle at the same time. It actually did sound somewhat comforting... pleasant. "Sorry to wake you."

"Good morning, and I am honestly surprised you are awake, and at work already", Juliet said, suppressing a moan as she stretched herself out. "No offense," she quickly added. "It is impressive, in a way."

"How do you know I am at work?" Carlton asked, sounding confused.

Juliet chuckled. "Background noise."

"Anyway... I wish I had some good news, but there's been two more murders."

"Any... notes left at the scene?", Juliet asked in near whisper, as if afraid of what she was about to find out just that.

Carlton groaned. She heard him rummage through the papers. "Not that they mentioned. But again, they didn't notice the first two either."

"I'll be on my way," Juliet said, before kicking the blankets aside and jumping out of the bed.

#

The crime scene was located inside a black SUV parked in a dark passageway, away from most of the buildings-or street lights, even. Dead man and a woman, both in early 30s, were lying on the back seat, next to each other, their face and chest covered with stab wounds, nude bodies coated with blood. M.E. was already inside, examining the bodies and taking photographs. Forensics were searching the area. Buzz was waiting for them near the car, a notepad in his hand.

"Police patrol drove by at around seven am this morning, and spotted the car, with obvious traces of blood," Buzz explained, going through his notes. "They walked over, looked inside and found the victims. Dead on the scene. Forensics haven't recovered any clothing, IDs or personal items on the victims or the crime scenes. They are still canvassing the area though. But it rained heavily this morning between four and five am. Chances are, most of the evidence has been washed away."

"Both victims were killed last night-well, early this morning, actually," the M.E. informed them, briefly looking up from the corpses. "Probably between one and three am, judging by the liver temperature."

"I contacted the DMV, had them run the license plate number through their computer system", Buzz chimmed in, flipping through his notepad. "The SUV is registered to thirty two years old. They texted me his latest driver's license photograph. It is kinda difficult to discern due to, uhm, all the bruises and stab wounds, but this looks like our male victim. Still no idea about the girl, though."

"You will know the official cause of death after the autopsy, but I think it is pretty obvious," the M.E. said, securing the victim's hands with evidence bags. "Extingunation due to multiple stab wounds to the face and chest." He leaned over, pointing at the marks on victim's wrists and mouth. "Judging by these bruises on their wrists and around their mouth, fresh bruises over their bodies, and a lack of defense wounds, they had both been bound, gagged, viciously beaten, and then stabbed to death."

Juliet leaned over, taking a close look at the female victim. "Marks on her ankles and thighs... most likely from wearing stockings and high heels, it looks like," she concluded, studying all the bruises carefully. She frowned, taking a closer look at the victim's hands and face. "Heavy lipstick and eyeliner... looks pretty cheap. Probably a prostitute."

"Forensics also found a condom wrapper and, uhm, a used condom on the car floor here... near the back seat," Buzz mentioned, looking away for a moment.

"Yeah," the M.E. agreed, straightening himself up. "I found traces of recent sexual activity on a female victim, but they don't appear consistent with rape. Sex was likely consentual." He leaned into the car again, taking the female victim's hands and holding them up for Carlton and Juliet to see closely. "One odd detail. The female victim also had this fresh, peculiar looking bruise, almost a cut, on her neck, right at her throat. It seems consistent with the blade. I also noticed this on inner side of her hands. Rope burns. No such thing on the male victim."

"There also appears to be some damage to the right back door," Carlton noted.

"So, the john and a prostitute are having sex on the back seat of his car, parked on a secluded location", she reasoned, the scene slowly playing out in her mind. "The doors are locked, of course. The killer is lying in wait near by, watching. Once the victims finish and are about to part ways, the killer sneaks up to the car, breaks in, grabs the prostitute, and puts a knife under her throat."

"The killer gives this woman the rope, forces her to bind the man's wrists, probably gag him too," Carlton continued as if on a cue, both of them now having a clear working theory about the murders. "The bigger threat is now secured. The killer then binds and gags the female victim."

"He tortures them both, for at least half an hour, then stabs them to death," Juliet concluded, suddenly feeling herself grow nauseated.

"All the while making them watch," Carlton added, letting out a heavy sigh. His gaze soon landed on the windshield-more specifically, smeared blood present on it. He frowned, walking over to the front of the car and taking a closer look.

"Smeared blood on the windshield... from the outside", Carlton noted, a disappointed look appearing on his face.

"Some blood splatters in the back of the car also appear to be smeared," she noted, looking away for a moment.

"He wrote another message," Carlton explained, stepping away. "In the victims' blood."

"But the rain washed it away," Juliet concluded, giving him a compassionate look. "Now we'll never know," she couldn't help but say, albeit silently, feeling a mixture of frustration, anger... and fear.

And then, like the most annoying thunder in the world, there was that familiar voice again. "Don't be so pessimistic, Juliet"," Shawn exclaimed while walking over to them, grinning widely. "Sure, who could blame you, given your partner, but still..."

"Gus finally dumped you, Spencer?" Carlton commented, noting that Shawn was alone.

"What's up, Lassie?" Shawn called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm, a wide smirk on his face. "Still bitter, I see."

Carlton gave him a disgusted look. "Show some respect, Spencer," he demanded, his eyes burning throuh Shawn's. "Two people are dead."

"Well, then it's too bad you nearly missed them last night, didn't you?" Shawn said in an unusually calm tone. Calm, yet clearly cruel.

"The heck you just said?" Carlton exclaimed, walking over to Shawn. Shawn flinched, but didn't back off.

"You patroled this area last night," Carlton explained, his tone of voice a bit more polite, but still pretty condescending. "Left just around midnight. Without searching this neighborhood, which was just around the block."

Carlton grimaced, glaring at Shawn. "Did the spirits tell you that?" he retorted, clenching his fists. "Or did you play with your little scanner last night?"

Shawn chuckled for a moment. "So, judging by your little outburst, it is true," he taunted, albeit taking a small but cautious step back. He was clearly gloating. Carlton was about to utter a twenty words long sentence that consisted almost entirely of swear words, but, to his surprise, before he could reply, Juliet stepped over, glaring at Shawn, and spoke up.

"For your information, Shawn, I worked with Carlton last night too," she pointed out, barely controlling her anger. "At least we tried something. What were you doing?" she pointed out more than asked, frowning at him, her face flushed. "And how come none of the "spirits" ever just, I don't know, tell you who murdered them?", she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. She had no idea where that came from, it wasn't directly linked to the current confrontation, but she felt she just had to say it, as soon as it popped up in her mind. Again. "Or at least provide a detailed description, if they don't know the killer's identity? Maybe even they can't stand communicating with you for longer than few minutes."

She turned around and walked away, heading toward the car. Carlton glared at baffled Shawn and was about to suggest something crude and anathomically impossible, but ultimately decided that Juliet's words were enough. He turned around and followed after her.

#

The ride back to the precinct started out as pretty calm, and quiet; not so much due to awkwardness, but due to exhaustion. They had two new murders to investigate, and they still had no leads. Eventually, Carlton decided to break the silence. "Nice... smackdown, by the way."

Juliet smiled. "Thank you. It felt..."

"Liberating?"

Juliet chuckled. "I guess." "But we still have two murders to investigate. And no leads."

"Buzzkill," Carlton teased her.

Juliet smiled, leaning back in her seat. "Well, that's a disturbing implication," she retorted.

"I have a theory though," she suddenly said, fondling her hands together.

"What kind of theory?", Carlton asked, already intrigued.

Juliet bit her lower lip, looking through the passenger side window. "The one that could, possibly, explain the locked room mystery. Nothing final, though."

"And we are desperate for leads," Carlton pointed out. "So you better share it with me. Now."

"Here's what we now," Juliet reasoned, frowning. "The mother, Bridget Watkins, arrives. All the doors and windows are locked, but she sees her daughter's dead body through the kitchen window. So she breaks the window and goes inside."

"Yes," Carlton agreed, nodding his head. "According to her statement, that's what happened."

Juliet continued, shifting in her seat. "She tries to help her daughter. Her daughter is unresponsive, there is no pulse, she isn't breathing. So Bridget goes out and rushes over to the neighbor's house."

"Exactly," Carlton confirmed. "Because he's a doctor."

"She knocks and knocks, but nobody answers."

"Because the doctor was on a vacation," Carlton explained.

"True," Juliet confirmed. "So Bridget returns to the house and stays at her daughter's side until the help arrives."

"Yes," Carlton repeated.

"The problem is that all the doors and windows were locked from the inside," Juliet explained, her face lighting up. "But we forgot about one window," she pointed out, suddenly feeling a thrill rush through her body. "The one that Bridget broke in order to get inside. That happened after the murder, but between finding her daughter's body and help arriving to that address, she did leave the house for at least a minute. What if the killer was still in the house when Bridget arrived?"

Carlton smiled. "Bridget breaks the window, goes inside, tries to help her daughter, calls 911..."

"Then goes over to the neighbor's house," Juliet continued.

"And, during that time, the killer escaped through the window that she broke in order to get inside!" Carlton realized.

"Shortly after the killer escaped, Bridget returns to the house and stays there until the ambulance and the police arrive," Juliet finished, sighing in relief, her explanation finally complete.

"And later, the killer returned to her house, looking for something... you interrupted him, he assaulted you and fled... But, once again, all the doors and windows were locked from the inside."

"But this time, the key didn't remain inside the lock. Maybe the killer stole an spare key the first time around, and used it the second time."

"But we found the house key and the spare keys. The one owned by Emily herself, and the one owned by her mother."

"Maybe Emily had more than one spare key in her house."

Carlton sighed, finally feeling some relief. Sure, it wasn't exactly something that would lead them to the killer... but at least they were able to explain one more strange thing about that case. Thanks to Juliet.

He smiled slightly, glancing at his partner. She was just looking through the passenger side window; probably proud at her conclusion. Once again, he thought how lucky he was to be working with her. She was smart, observant, friendly, honest, pretty...

Carlton frowned. Well, that was unexpected. Sure, he always knew that, it is not like he could deny that, but he would rarely think about that...

Why, though? Was there anything wrong with that? What was he concerned about?

Carlton sighed, shifting in his seat. It was probably that case. So mysterious and complicated, full of dark turns. Making him feel things he'd rarely feel, even when dealing with especially gruesome and complicated cases. A need to really reconsider certain things, take a long, hard look at his life. A need to take a break from it all, just for a while, pull Juliet closer, hug her tightly, and...

Carlton snapped back to attention, feeling heat rush up his face. He glanced at Juliet, like he was worried that she could somehow read his thoughts, or somehow sense what was he fantasizing about. Of course, she didn't seem to know. Or mind. He shook his head, switching his attention to traffic again. He was getting close to the precinct.

#

Carlton sighed as he observed the corpse laying on Woody's autopsy table. Autopsy on the second (well, chronologically, first) victim has been completed; and poor guy already had two more to perform.

"Once again, there isn't much to tell," Woody said, handing Carlton the autopsy report. "She was murdered about a week ago. Cause of death is extingunation due to multiple stab wounds over the chest and face. Lots of bruises and fractures, about a week old. She was viciously beaten before being killed. Signs of restraining on her wrists and mouth. No defensive wounds, nothing under her fingernails, no evidence of a sexual assault. Tox screens revealed some heroin, but nothing else."

"And the weapon used?" Carlton questioned, flipping through the autopsy report.

"Judging by the size and shape of the stab wounds, and this mark on her collarbone, a cerated hunting knife, its blade at least six inches long," Woody explained.

"And what was used to bind and gag her?" Carlton asked, looking up at Woody.

"I took the tissue samples. Some fibers were embedded into her skin. Probably a common polyester rope and a towel. Nothing special."

"Any moles, tattoos, distinctive marks, scars?" Carlton asked, taking a close look at the body.

Woody shook his head. "None, sorry. But I fingerprinted her, and took a DNA sample. Forensics are running those through AFIS and CODIS. Nothing so far."

"Yeah, I know", Carlton agreed, closing the autopsy report. He frowned, his eyes meeting Woody's. "Has Shawn dropped by?"

"Not yet, why?"

Carlton sighed, looking up. "Just curious. Thank you."

He quickly left the morgue, closing the door behind. Just when he was about to head to the workroom, he heard a familiar voice behind him. "Detective Lassiter?"

"Mrs. Watkins?" Carlton exclaimed, suddenly meeting face to face with Emily Watkins' mother again. "What are you doing here?", he asked carefully, surprised and worried at the same time.

"I... I might have remembered something that could help you with the investigation. I know you gave me your card and advised me to call you, but... I guess I figured I'd feel more comfortable speaking with you face to face..."

"Sure, no problem," Carlton assured her, giving her a compassionate look. He quickly walked over to the near by workroom, opening the door for Bridget. "Come in here, please."

"So... what did you remember?" he asked softly, pulling out his notepad.

Bridget sighed, tears sparkling in her eyes. "I didn't think much of it at first, but... well, about a week before Emily..." She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Her voice was a bit lower when she spoke up again. "I called her. We were supposed to meet, but I had to work a little longer than usual... I ask her could she pick me up, but she said she loaned her car to a friend. That struck me as odd because, well, Emily didn't have many friends... I later asked her about it, but she just shrugged it off and said that it was nothing important... But now, thinking back at it... I don't know, it simply doesn't sound right. I know that that isn't much of a lead, and maybe I'm overthinking this, but I still thought you should know."

"It's OK," Carlton said, writing that information down. "We appreciate any new lead. We will talk to her coworkers again, have forensics process her car... maybe something will turn up."

Bridget nodded her head, looking down at the floor for a moment. "Thank you", she near whispered. "I really appreciate it."

Carlton remained silent for a few moments, a frown appearing on his face. He sighed and shifted in his seat before speaking up, his eyes slowly meeting Bridget's. "I have one more question for you, mrs. Watkins. It might sound odd, but... did Emily have more than one spare house key?"

Bridget sighed, biting a lower lip. After a few moments, her eyes widened, a look of realization washing over her face. "Actually, yes!" she exclaimed. "She kept one in a fake rock in her yard, and the other one in her nightstand, top drawer." She frowned. "Why are you asking me that? Is it missing?"

"We're not sure yet. But thank you for the information." He remained silent for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Have you considered... talking to someone?", he asked softly.

Bridget just stared back at him, like she didn't get his point. Carlton quickly elaborated. "A friend, a family member... maybe a therapist?" he suggested, looking her in the eyes.

Bridget sighed, a sad smile appearing on her lips for a moment. "What is there to say?" she exclaimed, her voice low and shaky again.

"Sometimes, merely telling what happened and how you currently feel is enough."

Bridget shuddered, looking away for a moment. "Once you catch Emily's killer... I want to be the first to know."

"And we will let you know that, as soon as possible", Carlton promised. "But that doesn't mean you have to constantly expect it, dwell on it... that isn't healthy."

"My daughter is dead", Bridget said, swallowing a lump in her throat. "You can't get over that, you can only... survive it."

"I'm sure she'd want you to be happy," Carlton tried.

"And I'm sure she never expected something like... that would happen to her," Bridget replied, a tear running down her face.

"I can't argue with that. But that is what happened, and she probably would have want you to move on eventually. And think of the good times. You can't change what happened to her. None of us can. But you don't have to think about it all the time. And you can get help if you feel you need it."

Bridget nodded her head. They both remained sitting there in silence for some time, deep in their thoughts, each pondering their own situation. Like each expected the other to say something more, but they both had nothing else to say.

Eventually, Bridget stood up and headed toward the door. Carlton walked her out. He looked after her for some time. Just as he turned around and started heading toward the workroom, he was approached by Juliet, who was holding a case file in her hand.

"Was that Emily Watkins' mother? Bridget?" Juliet asked, frowning.

"Yeah. She said she remembered that Emily borrowed her car to someone a few days prior to her death. Emily didn't reveal to whom though. I'm gonna have forensics process Emily's car and check GPS records, maybe something will turn up."

"Intetesting. She seemed really distraught," Juliet noted, a sympathetic look on her face.

"Understandably," Carlton commented, sighing.

"We got an ID on the second victim", Juliet informed him, handing him the case file. "Meaning the very first one, the one found in the alleyway. Finally a hit in AFIS. Kelly Anderson, thirty years old. Multiple arrests for solicitation and public intoxication. Still no ID on the most recent female victim."

"Nobody reported Kelly Anderson missing?", Carlton asked.

"No surviving family", Juliet explained solemnly. "Several known criminal associates, listed in her rapsheet, mostly other prostitutes and pimps, but they are all currently incarcerated on various charges."

"She was completely on her own", Carlton commented.

"That's devastating", Juliet whispered, sadness evident in her voice.

Their discussion was interrupted by Buzz McNab, who quickly approached them, a case file in his hand. "O'Hara, Lassiter... we have identified a possible suspect in the case", he informed them, an excited look on his face.

"Really?", Carlton exclaimed, finding that information surprising due to a lack of leads on pretty much all three cases.

"Yes", Buzz confirmed, nodding his head. "A baker who owns a minivan and has a prior criminal record, just like Spencer said."

Carlton's face fell as he remembered Shawn's "vision." "Wonderful."

"His name's Peter Bellinger," Buzz said, slightly confused by Carlton's remark.

"What do we have on him?", Juliet asked

Buzz gave her a surprised look. "He's a baker who owns a minivan and has a criminal record", he repeated, matter of factly.

"Other than him matching the profile that Spencer devised based on the ghost talk", Carlton explained. "Fingerprints, DNA, witnesses placing him at the scene... a parking ticket... anything?"

"Well... no", Buzz admitted. But we have no other suspects at the moment, so..."

"It is technically our duty to go question him", she pointed out, sounding a bit calmer. "And it would be much better if we arrived there before Spencer. And you know he will find out about this sooner or later."

Carlton considered her words for a moment, then simply said: "We better hurry."

#

After they rang the doorbell three times, to no avail, Carlton, Juliet and McNab entered Peter Bellinger's home, having recovered a spare key inside a fake rock. The house, to no one's surprise, was empty.

They made sure to search the place as quickly as possible, until Spencer showed up. They managed to pull that off, but the results were less than satisfying. Carlton slammed the bedroom door shut as he entered the hallway, meeting up with Juliet, who just went back to the house after talking to the neighbors. "Well, he's definitely gone", Carlton concluded, letting out a heavy sigh. "Most of his clothing appears to be missing from the closet, and I haven't found any documents, or much cash in here", he explained, taking another look around. "And his minivan isn't in the garage."

"His closest neighbors claim they haven't seen him in two days, they have no idea where he is," Juliet informed him, flipping through his notepad. "No security cameras near by. They weren't that close, clearly. I called his boss. He told me that Peter called in sick three days ago and still hasn't showed up."

"Damn, maybe the asshat was right," Carlton commented, gritting his teeth.

"Or not," Juliet countered, looking around. "I mean, I don't see any religious books here. Not even the Bible."

"He could have taken those with him," Carlton suggested.

"However, he did leave this nice set of kitchen knives here too," Juliet noted, looking around. "Not something you'd expect from a mad serial killer on the run."

"Well, to be fair, we know that the killer used a hunting knife on most of the victims, and the switchblade on Emily Watkins", Carlton couldn't help but point out. "Maybe he didn't need this. Saved himself the trouble."

Juliet sighed. "But still, this place looks so messy... I mean, it was messy even before we searched it. These killings, no matter how brutal, seem organized, methodical." She groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Maybe I just don't want to believe that Spencer's right."

"Neither do I. But as long as we base our conclusions on facts and evidence, I'd say that we have one up on him. That's what matters. You do know that you never had any obligation to believe him?" Carlton questioned. "In his supposed "gift", I mean. And it's a good thing to use critical thinking when it comes to such things. The same way we work on the cases."

"I know," Juliet confirmed, nodding her head. "I guess a part of me wanted to believe... for some reason. But now, I'm just tired of it. It just seems... obnoxious. And... impossible."

"Does that piss you off?" Carlton asked, his eyes meeting Juliet's.

Juliet sighed, shifting in place. "It's... jarring. Disappointing. Annoying."

Carlton glanced at the front door, then checked the time on his watch. "Our shift's almost over," he pointed out. "I'm sure Spencer will show up sooner or later. How about we release a BOLO on Peter Bellinger, just in case, and then go over the case files again? See if there's some sort of a clue in there."

"We can do it at home," Carlton suggested, rather abruptly. He flinched, like he just realized that he suggested something inappropriate, even though he wasn't sure what. "I mean... if you'd like it better that way."