Shawn found the luncheon provided by the convention. He loaded up a plate with pasta, grabbed an extra piece of garlic bread and dug in happily.
Lassiter was sitting across from him in a table by the corner. He was watching the room. "We're no closer to finding out who did it." He griped at Shawn.
"Well, technically you have motive, means and opportunity." Shawn pointed out before taking a big bite of ravioli.
"I do not!" Lassiter objected.
"You told her you were a detective in the bar, you have two arms capable of pushing someone, and you were alone last night."
"So were half the men with me in the bar. Besides, I talked with her yesterday afternoon and she didn't say a word about me a normal detective, only a psychic one."
Shawn took another bite and had to wait until he swallowed to ask the next question. "How long had she been dead?"
"You're the actual psychic, you tell me." Lassiter snapped, getting frustrated with the whole situation.
Shawn rolled his eyes and turned in his seat to survey the room. "The spirits are being very stubborn and they won't tell me directly. They tell me that I should go talk to that man right there." Shawn pointed out Burns, the rookie who had helped him find the lecture hall.
Lassiter caught himself before he did a spit-take with his bottle of water. "Sweet Justice, Spencer. That rookie looks more incompetent then McNab."
"He's a puppy, Lassie. Eager to please and easy to manipulate." Shawn assured him. "Excuse me, I have to go be you." Shawn heard Lassiter swearing at him as he got up from the table.
Burns was sitting alone on the other side of the room. He looked up in surprise as Shawn sat down across from him. "D-d-Detective Lassiter," He stuttered.
"Easy, Burns." Shawn gave the kid a reassuring smile. "You alright?"
Burns nodded. "Y-y-yes,"
"I just wanted to check up on you. You must have graduated with Rachel from academy."
Again Burns nodded. "She was a friend of mine." There was no stutter, just sadness now.
"Spencer is working on this case," Shawn directed Burns' gaze to where Lassiter still sat. "He's a psychic."
"The chief says psychics are a crock full of crap."
"I know someone who would agree with him." Shawn actually felt sorry for Burns, it would be horrible if anyone from the Santa Barbara force was murdered. "Have you heard anything about the case? The coroner's report must have come out."
Burns nodded sadly. "Dr. Allen put her time of death right before Mr. Spencer found the body. If he'd gotten there sooner-"
Shawn cut him off there. "Don't, don't think about it." He stood and gave the rookie's shoulder a squeeze. "If you think of anything else, even if you think it would be small, just let us know."
Burns nodded again.
"And buy yourself some chocolate." Shawn ordered him. He motioned for Lassiter to follow him out.
hcyspsych
"What'd the kid tell you?" Lassiter demanded as soon as they were out of the room.
"That you are a crock full of crap and Moreno was killed somewhere between fifteen to thirty minutes before you found her." Shawn lead the way to the stairwell. The crime tape was up and a uniformed officer was there to make sure no one crossed it.
Lassiter grabbed Shawn's arm and pulled him back. "What do you mean a crock full of crap?"
Shawn shrugged out of his grip. "That's what the chief thinks about psychics."
A light went on in Lassiter's brain. "Spencer, damn it, the chief." He looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to them.
"I know right? You two would be peas in a pod if you worked here."
"No, shut up and listen. I saw the chief, going up the elevator that's why I took the stairs."
"Because you were afraid of him." There was a twinkle of amusement in Shawn's eyes.
Lassiter scowled. "No, because I hadn't gotten my morning run in."
Shawn made a face. "That is an image I never needed to think about. Thanks, Lassieface."
Lassiter ignored him and continued. "Why would the man take the elevator. He's staying on the second floor."
"The fact you know that, is slightly disturbing. Plus, it's not illegal to be lazy." Shawn pointed out.
"Even if he didn't do it, he could have heard something."
"Lassie, you've got to learn to stick to your theories. Especially if you're going to be me. Have you ever heard me retract a theory, no matter how ridiculous it sounded."
Lassiter rolled his eyes. "I do not need to be lectured by you, especially not now."
"Well, when you're feeling up for one, just let me know, or ask my dad. He's got a whole catalog of them."
"Since the chief is a reasonable man who thinks psychics are a boat load of shenanigans and stupidity, I doubt he'll respond to me questioning him." Lassiter looked put out at that fact.
"No need to fret, I'll question him."
"No, no way, Spencer."
"Don't be a worked up alcoholic, Lassie. I wouldn't interrogate him. Just ask him questions man to man."
"Petulant Child to Man."
"Don't insult the chief." Shawn shook his head.
"Don't forget that you're putting my reputation on the line when you question people." Lassiter hissed.
"Detective Lassiter?"
The duo turned slowly from where they'd been talking quietly in the corner and saw the chief watching them carefully.
"Detective Lassiter, I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment." The chief outstretched an arm and motioned for Shawn to follow him.
Lassiter tilted his head to the side as he saw a scratch down the chief's arm under his suit jacket. He almost grabbed Spencer's sleeve to tell him about it, but he wasn't really sure what it meant exactly.
Shawn saw the scratch too, and since he wasn't concerned with offending people, at all, unlike a certain Irish detective, Shawn decided to say something about it, as an ice breaker. "That scratch looks pretty nasty, have you gotten it looked at by a doctor?"
The chief pulled his sleeve down over his arm. "No, haven't had time."
"Well, when I had one like that it was because of a cat that I- I mean Spencer, stole from a crime scene and used to divine clues about a murder."
"Crock full of crap," The chief grumbled.
"Do you have a cat, sir?"
"That's beside the point, Lassiter, focus for a moment."
Lassiter watched the chief talking with Spencer and that's when he remembered something from that night in the bar, not the one where he'd gone upstairs and found the rookie dead in the stairwell. The one before that, where he'd be drunk, Moreno had been sitting at the bar and he had flirted with her... and then she'd been pulled away. He wanted to think that it had been her partner that had pulled her away, especially after the information David Ross had given them when they had questioned him.
"So you see, I think on Monday we'll have to let everyone go and pursue a different line of investigation." The chief was still talking with Spencer.
Lassiter would have to wait until the chief had left to talk to Spencer about what he had remembered. His cell phone rang, and Lassiter answered it quickly when he saw it was O'Hara's number.
"Carlton, I was making a call to the Sacramento PD to ask who I should send flowers to from the department,"
"O'Hara, we're not going to send sympathy flowers to a possible murderer," Lassiter hissed into his phone.
"I called because desk clerks are usually very gossipy, especially to other police officers."
"So did you learn anything useful or do you just like wasting the minutes on my cell phone plan?"
"There are three female officers that are due in the month of August. How funny is that?"
"I meant that was relevant to the case, O'Hara."
"Oh, right, sorry. Well, apparently Rachel Moreno was working on this drug task force with David Ross, her partner. The chief was going to cut their patrol, stating that it wasn't worth the money."
"How is that relevant..."
"He decided to cut it after the two of them made an arrest. They arrested the son of the police commissioner. I guess he'd been mixed up in some of the gangs in that neighborhood."
"Why wouldn't that have been in the news, or the press?"
"Everything's been hush, hush. No one is supposed to know."
"Thanks, O'Hara, and next time I go out of town, you're coming with me family picnic or not."
Shawn was almost ready to push the chief down the stairs. The man was talking his ear off, about ridiculously boring police work. The exact things that bored him about detectiveship. He glanced over and saw Lassiter hang up the phone and look over to him. When their eyes met, Shawn saw Lassiter had the strangest look in his eyes.
Lassiter swallowed nervously, he knew what had happened now, and he couldn't think of any other way to let Spencer know what happened without alerting the chief. Taking a deep breath he raised a hand to his temple.
"Rachel? Rachel is that you?" He felt like an idiot, but he had certainly gotten the attention of the chief.
"What is it, Spencer, another vision?" Spencer sounded legitimately surprised.
"Rachel's speaking to me," Lassiter jerked his way over to the chief and Spencer. He would destroy every video tape from the security system after this, but he didn't back down. He grabbed the chief's arm and pulled him towards the more open part of the lobby. People were coming down from lunch and the place was beginning to get crowded again.
"This is a crock full of crap!" The chief protested trying to yank his arm out of Lassiter's grasp.
"No!" Lassiter snapped, deciding to take a more Lassitarian approach to his 'vision' "You're idea of covering up a misdemeanor is a crock full of crap." Oh, it felt wonderful to say things his way. "Rachel Moreno was an upstanding officer who was set on doing her duty correctly, and when her partner made an arrest you slapped them on the wrist and tried to send Moreno back to desk duties."
"That's preposterous," The chief objected.
"Your face is preposterous!" Shawn cried out and then tried to put a stern look on his face. "Continue, Spencer."
"Did you argue at the bar? I know you pulled her away two nights ago. You pulled her away and she tried to reason with you. She scratched you when you wouldn't let her go and you told her to meet you in your hotel room so you could discuss it."
"That doesn't mean I pushed her," The chief was a bright shade of red, the kind of red that Lassiter usually turned when Shawn upstaged him at a crime scene.
"Maybe you told her she should go upstairs the party in Lassiter's hotel room, whatever the reason when she turned her back, you shoved her down the stairs where she hit her head against the wall and died."
Lassiter had almost cornered the chief against the main desk in the lobby. The policemen standing around them were wide eyed and a few of them had reached for their guns.
"Rachel Moreno was going to be a great cop, and you ruined it for political power." Lassiter was glaring daggers.
The chief looked over his shoulder to where Shawn was standing. "You understand, don't you Detective Lassiter? A man like you would know the importance of being on the good side of the commissioner."
Shawn shook his head. "You've got me confused with someone else, Detective Lassiter is a man of high integrity, an advocate for truth and he always gets his man even if he wishes he weren't right."
Lassiter gave Shawn a small look of gratitude. "Someone cuff him."
Fifty sets of handcuffs flew into view.
As the chief was handcuffed and driven to the station, Lassiter looked to Shawn. "Thank you,"
"Thank me? You solved the case, well you and Jules... and me... and Buzz... and Gus a little bit. So yes, thank me."
Lassiter rolled his eyes. "I'll be happy to head back to Santa Barbara tomorrow."
"Oh that's right, we're driving back! I made a new play list on your ipod. It's got some awesome songs. I hope you don't mind I downloaded some songs on your itunes."
