This chapter, admittedly, is a little on the dry and theoretical side. I'm sorry for that, but it's the chapter in which all the background research that I did for the story flow into, and in that regard it has its important place in the story. I promise that I will get the next chapter up very soon to make up for that, seeing that the next chapter is where the bad things start happening...but let's not talk about that yet.

Enjoy!


Chapter 6 – Statistically Speaking

The man was small and scrawny. More on the nerdy and geeky side, actually, what with his glasses and the hair that was parted on the side and combed over the slightly balding patch on top of his head. Yeah, as if that had ever helped. If anything, it drew even more attention to the fact that he was going bald if he combed his hair like that. Shawn would never understand why people didn't see that.

The square glasses were sitting slightly askew on the guy's nose, and his suit was hanging loosely off his thin frame.

Actually, the suit was the only thing that really identified the guy as an FBI agent. Shawn guessed that a harsh gust of wind could blow the man away. Probably, the bureau never intended for him to end up in a firefight, though he was wearing the regulation firearm on his hip. Shawn seriously wondered how the man had managed to get through the basic FBI training at Quantico.

The name didn't help, either. Not that he was in any way to blame for it, but seriously. Special Agent Magnus Littleton? What parents did that kind of thing to their children? Didn't people think about what they were doing to them for the rest of their lives when they named them?

Agent Littleton had had problems right from the start, that much Shawn was sure of.

But somehow, he had managed to work his way up in law enforcement, and now he was the go-to guy in the Bureau for cases concerning organized criminal groups. And in that role, Chief Vick had asked him to brief the officers involved in the most recent murder cases. Shawn and Gus had been invited, too, and were currently sitting on uncomfortable folding chairs in the department's briefing room, waiting while Littleton set up the projector.

Theoretical background was one thing, but Shawn just hoped that the man wasn't planning on showing a slide-show. His brain had the tendency to shut down during that particular kind of presentation.

When all the officers had filed into the room, Chief Vick stepped up in front of the rows of chairs.

"Detectives, officers, thank you all for coming. As you have all been informed, Special Agent Littleton from the FBI is here to brief us on the ideological background behind the three murders we're currently investigating. I'm grateful that the Bureau has agreed to help us on working out the background behind those murders. Special Agent Littleton has been briefed on the case, and I expect your full cooperation with him. If there are any questions you have, don't hesitate to ask them."

Vick nodded at Littleton to begin and sat back down.

Littleton cleared his throat and took a few nervous steps on the spot behind the desk.

"Good afternoon detectives, officers." He took a look around the room at the faces assembled there. Some of the officers were in uniform, the detectives in civilian clothes, but despite all that Shawn had the feeling that he stood out. Even Gus was wearing a suit. He was the only one in a plaid shirt that looked slightly rumpled because he had absolutely no desire to end up behind an ironing board like his father.

Littleton's gaze stopped for a moment as it skidded over Shawn, but then he looked back towards the wider audience and continued.

"As Chief Vick has told you, I have been briefed on the case. Now, I know all about inter-agency rivalry, and I want to assure you that the FBI is currently not planning on taking over this case. I am here to offer my expertise, and unless I find any evidence that puts this case under federal jurisdiction, it's going to remain with the SBPD."

Beside Shawn, Lassiter snorted loudly. Loud enough to be heard through the entire room, but Littleton continued as if he hadn't heard.

"As for my position in the Bureau, I am the head of a division that's focused on gathering all possible information and intelligence about organized crime groups in California. The division is separated into a number of units that are working different kinds of organized crime. My personal specialization is on what you could generally term racist groups and parties here in California."

He turned towards an officer who was standing beside the door.

"Could you turn down the lights, please?"

The officer nodded and hit two of the three light switches. Shawn had to suppress a groan as the projector sprang to life. It seemed that they were going to be treated with the slide-show after all.

"Adam Wagner," Littleton said and the same mug-shot Shawn had seen before was projected to the wall behind Littleton's head.

"Wagner is a well-known agitator who has been on the FBI-watch list for years. We're doing our best to find enough evidence for a renewed arrest warrant against him. The Bureau has been paying close attention to the activities of Wagner and his group, the White Resistance, over the past years. We are still gathering information and evidence, but we are hopeful to be able to make a case against Wagner within the next couple of months.

"However, from studying the case files, I think Wagner's involvement in the murder cases you have to solve is ideological at best. There is no evidence suggesting that Wagner is in the Santa Barbara area, or that he was involved in planning and or executing these murders. Most known members of Wagner's group, the White Resistance, are living in Los Angeles county. There are no known members of the White Resistance in Santa Barbara. Of course the emphasis is on no known members, but from a law enforcement point of view that means we have no usual suspects to go on. Chief Vick told me that over the course of the investigation, all suspects with a prior history in committing racist crimes have been checked and that the investigation has not brought forth any suspects. However, whether or not Wagner and his group are involved directly in these murders, it is of vital importance that you are all aware of how hate groups and organizations work and act."

From the corner of his eyes, Shawn saw how Lassiter shifted around in his chair. The head detective's face was not really readable, but still Shawn thought he detected a note of boredom there, as if he wasn't particularly keen on sitting through the FBI-agent's lecture.

And true enough, Littleton pressed a little button on the remote control of the projector, and a schematic appeared on the wall behind him.

"Hate groups are all structured similarly. And they all work in similar ways. They distribute inaccurate or distorted information. They use fear, hate and intimidation to achieve their aim of going against the groups they target. In racially motivated hate groups, most of those targets are easy enough to define. Blacks and Hispanics are the biggest target groups for racist organizations here in California. All three victims here in Santa Barbara were black. That is one of the reasons why I'm hesitant to suspect a direct involvement of Wagner or the White Resistance.

"The White Resistance is a white supremacist skinhead group. Their target group are not solely black people but everybody who does not fit into their definition of the white supremacist group. It's a very Aryan image of the white superior group the propagate, and they don't merely stand for anti-black racism but are also an antisemitic, anti-Islamic and generally very xenophobe group. From my briefing on the case I know that no similar crimes against people of a different ethnic background happened since the first murder. If the perpetrators were members of the White Resistance, it would be a surprising development that they only target black people."

"So you're saying those murders aren't connected to Wagner in any way."

Littleton blinked against the light of the projector as he tried to make out Shawn's face in the semi-darkness of the room.

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Shawn Spencer, head psychic of the SBPD."

To his left, Gus suppressed a bout of amused laughter, and to Shawn's right, Lassiter groaned.

Littleton's face pulled into a frown and his eyes sought out Chief Vick in the front row.

"Just how many psychics does your department employ?"

"One." Shawn wasn't sure, but he thought he detected a note of amusement in her voice.

Littleton seemed to struggle with that revelation for a moment, then he shrugged and turned back towards Shawn.

"Well Mr. Spencer, the answer to your question is yes and no."

"Oh, of course. I should have known."

Littleton shook his head. "It isn't an easy question to answer. Do I think Wagner or the White Resistance are directly involved in those murders? No, I don't think so. It's not how the White Resistance has worked so far. Hate groups develop according to a schematic of several stages."

He hit the button on his remote again and another schematic appeared on the wall.

"The psychopathology of hate groups can be separated into seven stages. Grouping, self-definition, disparaging the target, taunting the target, attacking without weapons, attacking with weapons, destroying the target. Only the last two of those stages are actively violent stages. And while stage seven, destroying the target, is the ultimate goal of every hate group, the White Resistance as a group has never gone beyond step five. You can't see the group as a bunch of racists meeting in a basement somewhere, planning their next steps. You have to see it as a platform, a virtual place for likeminded people to meet and spread their ideology. They have websites, papers, a CD-label, they even organize youth events for their younger members and the children of older members. All within the rights granted by the First Amendment.

"Within the White Resistance, you have a much smaller group of radical individuals, with Wagner at the top. He is the chief agitator of the group here in California. While the group as a whole serves the purpose of affirming the ideology in the minds of people and attempts to create an ever-growing membership basis, it's this smaller group within the group that propagates the active violence. Especially Wagner since his release from prison a year ago has become more and more outspoken about active violence, or what would be step six and seven in our schematic of hate groups. They're not addressing the general public, or even all the members of the White Resistance.

"With his calls for active steps against what he calls 'the threat to the white race', Wagner specifically addresses those people within the wider framework of the White Resistance who have a potential and willingness for violence. While he certainly wouldn't condemn it, Wagner doesn't call for the average housewife to kill the FedEx delivery man just because he's Hispanic. Wagner is a very intelligent man, he knows how to manipulate people, and he's an eloquent speaker. He knows exactly what rhetoric to use to address the people who listen to him. If you listen to some of his latest, more radical speeches, you will be aware of the term 'Aryan Avenger'. In his speeches he creates a form of glorification for those who are ready and willing to actively start defending the white race against the Blacks, the Hispanics, the Jews, Muslims and whoever else is on his target list. The Aryan Avengers are going to be the heroes once the Aryan race is finally going to be the dominant race in America.

"What Wagner does is that he creates a heroic appeal. He wants to create the desire to be one of those heroes in those who listen to his broadcasts, because a heroic motive lowers the inhibition threshold.

"To come back to your question, Mr. Spencer. No, I don't think that Wagner is directly involved in the planning and execution of these murders. But yes, I do think it's a possibility that his frequent hate speeches over the past months have a direct connection to this case. The perpetrators don't necessarily have to be official members of the White Resistance, but past experience has told us that in racially motivated crimes, the perpetrators in almost all cases seek contact to likeminded groups at one point. The White Resistance is the biggest and most easily accessible of those groups in California. I think it's a very likely possibility that somebody with a general hate for – in this case – black people got caught up in Wagner's rhetoric and speeches, internalized the idea and desire to become one of the Aryan Avengers and started acting out on it. There are all kinds of hate crimes, but with three brutal murders in such a short time span, it would be negligent not to consider a possible organized background, even if it's only ideological. This isn't a case of a closet racist snapping one day, and neither is it a bar-fight gone sour. From what the evidence suggests, it's a group of at least three individuals who actively seek out black victims in a situation where the victim is alone, who then proceed to beat them. The MO makes it clear that they never intend for those victims to survive. And it's unlikely that they are going to stop. If my analysis is correct, at least one of those perpetrators might be convinced that he or she is on a mission for the greater good. Those people don't just stop.

"Chief Vick and I agree that in order to catch those people before they commit another murder, you need to know what to look for when interrogating possible suspects or when searching a crime scene or a suspect's apartment. I've prepared a couple of lists and schematics which you will need to work through. Since we've already covered the psychopathology of hate groups, I suggest you all go to page 5 of the folder you've been handed. As we can see here…"

Shawn made it a conscious effort to tune out Littleton's voice as he started to drone on about theoretic things and schematics. He didn't need to be told to recognize a swastika as a racist symbol, but thanks a lot for trying. Right now, he had an office covered with them, actually.

Besides, he was still mulling Littleton's words over in his head, trying to figure out what the man had been trying to tell them. It wasn't easy.

While the speech had definitely been interesting, the jury was still out on whether it had been helpful.

The perpetrators might or might not be members of the White Resistance. Since the group didn't have an official membership roster, that information didn't help them anyway.

They were specifically targeting blacks. That was nothing new, but the fact that they had attacked four and killed three black people didn't mean their next victim couldn't be Hispanic.

And the murderers might be convinced that they were doing this for the greater good. Well, they were killing people because of their skin color. As weak a motive as it was in Shawn's eyes, it was an ideology you didn't just drop from one moment to the other. So it should be obvious that they wouldn't stop doing this until they were caught.

And Shawn seriously doubted that any lectures on the schematic development of hate groups was going to help them find four rogue racists who enjoyed killing people at night. But he couldn't just get up and leave the briefing room, so Shawn sat there and let his mind go over everything he knew about the case while in the front, Littleton droned on and on and on about all the useful intelligence the FBI had gathered on racist groups in California.

Beside him, Shawn noticed that Lassiter was hanging on Littleton's every word, but he doubted that the head detective was doing this out of interest. Lassiter was more the hands-on kind of cop, the one who investigated and followed leads, not the one who tackled things from the theoretical side. But Shawn remembered Lassiter's reaction to Littleton's statement that the FBI didn't intend to take over the case.

It seemed that Lassiter wasn't entirely convinced that this was the truth, and in all honesty Shawn wasn't, either. So far, the FBI might not have any evidence that made this crime a federal crime, but he was sure that as soon as they had that evidence, the SBPD would be short one case. Within the blink of an eye.

Shawn had heard enough of his father's enraged rants about federal involvement to know what could happen.

But in the end, Shawn didn't particularly care about who solved the case and who got the credit. As long as those people were found and put behind bars, the rest didn't matter. But he knew that sitting here in this briefing wouldn't get the case solved, and he craved for the end of Littleton's lecture so that he could go on with the investigation.

He still had no idea what had come out of looking through the fraternity's membership roster. Right now, that was their one hot lead, and Shawn was itching to look more closely into it.

But Littleton didn't have any mercy with Shawn's strained patience.

It took another hour until he finally asked the officer seated beside the door to turn on the lights again. As the projector was shut down, Shawn looked around the room. He wasn't in the least surprised to see quite a number of sleepy and bored expressions around him. Most cops were like Lassiter – the kind of people who were good at actively figuring things out but who totally shut down during a theoretical background analysis.

But that was something people like Littleton never really understood, since their working world was the exact opposite of that. All in all, Shawn thought that they had gotten away rather well with just a bit above an hour of lecture.

The officers filed quickly out of the briefing room as soon as Littleton had declared the briefing closed, and Shawn hurried along with them. It was like being back in school – you were only really safe once you were out of the classroom.

Outside, Shawn caught Gus' eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh.

"I guess the FBI doesn't really know the definition of comprehensive and short."

Gus nodded while releasing a long and slow breath. "I have never hoped for somebody to call me so hard in my life. I'd have even taken a call from Tom right now."

"Speaking of which, and I know that you actually don't want to talk about it, what happened about Tom? One moment you stormed out of the office all pissed because he was reviewing your productivity statistics, and later that day you were all sunshine and daisies again."

A self-satisfied grin started to spread on Gus' face. "Oh, it turned out to be a good day after all."

"Does that mean Tom is off your case?"

Gus shook his head. "Probably not. But that afternoon, Tom got a call from a doctor on another sales rep's route. Dr. Mueller, one of the most proficient clients. He wasn't content with his sales rep, and he's friends with a doctor on my route who recommended me. Dr. Mueller told Tom in no uncertain terms that he wanted to be on my route or he'd change to another pharmaceutical company. Tom's face when he told me about that was priceless. And while Tom was busy talking to Dr. Mueller on the phone, I used a little off time to have a look at the productivity statistics myself. Despite working a second job, I'm still the second most proficient sales rep on the Santa Barbara city routes. So screw Tom if he's trying to find something there. He won't."

Shawn couldn't help but smile at those words. He had been a little worried about this whole grandmother disaster denting Gus' career, but he should have known better. Gus was one of the most organized people he knew. If anybody was able to handle two jobs, it was him.

"That's good to hear."

"Don't think for one moment that I've forgotten about the whole grandmother-lie you've constructed. You are going to pay for that one, just so you know."

"Pay how?"

Gus shrugged. "I'll think of something. And I'm sure I'll come up with something when you least expect it. You just wait."

Shawn shook his head. It was probably better not to ask.

Together the two went over towards Lassiter's desk. The head detective was talking on the phone, but as they got closer he ended the call and hung up.

"O'Hara!"

Juliet, who had been searching through a stack of files on her desk, stopped and turned towards him.

"Yes?"

"Do you have the forensics report on the Sinclair crime scene?"

"One moment!"

Juliet continued searching through the files with renewed hurry. Finally, she found what she was looking for and triumphantly pulled a thin folder out of the stack on her desk. She reached Lassiter at the same time that Shawn and Gus did.

Lassiter took the file from Juliet's hand without comment and opened it.

"Lassie! Jules! Please tell me that there's something new about the case."

Lassiter looked up from his file with an eye roll.

"Unfortunately, we've been held up by investigating a case of breaking and entering this morning. That kind of got in between."

"I'm awfully sorry detective. But please take that matter up with my father, he was the one who taught me that I'm supposed to call the police in case a crime occurs."

Lassiter tossed the file onto his desk and leaned back in his chair to be able to glare up at Shawn.

"Don't try and turn this into a verbal sparring match, Spencer. I'm really not in the mood today, and I'd be really tempted to shoot you."

"Didn't the Chief tell you to keep Gus and me in the loop?"

Lassiter picked up the forensic report again and waved a hand at Juliet absent-mindedly. "O'Hara can do that. I have work to do."
With that, the conversation seemed to be over for him. Juliet regarded her partner with an acid glare after that abrupt dismissal, but if that glare penetrated Lassiter's armor of feigned disinterest, he didn't let it show. With a sigh, Juliet turned around and led Shawn and Gus over towards her desk.

"What's his problem?" Shawn asked once they were safely out of earshot.

Juliet sank down in her chair with a shake of her head. "His mood is getting worse by the day. And when the Chief brought in that FBI agent, he nearly snapped."

"Is he worried the Feds are going to take the case away?"

Juliet nodded. "Yes. I mean, right now nothing has shown up that would make this a federal case, but you never know. And the Feds are quick at taking over cases, especially if they're high profile cases. Carlton doesn't particularly like the FBI on a good day, hence his mood right now is unearthly."

Gus pulled up a chair, and Shawn perched himself on the edge of Juliet's desk.

"So, is there anything new we should know about?"

Juliet shrugged. "Not much. The forensic report from the Sinclair crime scene finally came through. I guess you heard that just now. There's nothing new in there. A lot of the things we collected at the basketball court seems to be your average everyday trash that's not connected to the case. We have boot prints of three, possibly four different individuals on the immediate crime scene."

"Four," Shawn interrupted, remembering Walter Pritchett's words from the previous day. The man had told him he had been attacked by four people, there was no reason to assume that it had been any less in the more recent murders.

Juliet raised both eyebrows. "How do you know?"

Belatedly, Shawn raised a hand and brought the fingers up to his temple. "I don't know. I just saw the number four flash in front of my eyes. I'm pretty sure it's been four people."

Juliet cocked her head to the side. "Four then. The boot prints aren't defined enough to establish a precise number. If there's four people, then two of them have a very similar shoe size. Size ten."

"Which is a pretty common size."

Juliet nodded. "It is. The other prints are size twelve, those are from the scene beside the body, and one of the prints found on the victim's shirt was a size eight. But we didn't get any distinguished profiles that could prove a suspect was on the scene. Else there were black cotton fibers on the victim's shirt. We've found similar fibers on the previous victims, but it's a very generic fiber. No way to trace it back."

The black ski masks Pritchett had described. But even if Shawn told Juliet about them now, they wouldn't be able to trace them back, either. Thos masks were sold in shops all over the city.

"Some skin cells under the victim's fingernails. It seems he managed to struggle a little. Forensics got the DNA of one person from those cells, but no hits on any databases. Whoever did this isn't in the system yet. Nothing else of interest. A number of cigarette butts all over the basketball court, they're still going through DNA analysis at the lab, but judged from where they were found it's unlikely that they come from our killers."

Shawn nodded. Just like the other crime scenes. There was forensic evidence, but nothing that was conclusive. Nothing at all that was a lead in this case.

"What about the fraternity."

Juliet nodded and pulled another list out of the stack on her desk.

"The heads of the fraternity weren't exactly keen to hand it over. It took a little pressure from the Dean before they realized that cooperation would be the best step in their situation. But here's the list, I made you a copy."

Shawn took the paper and scanned it. There were maybe fifty names on it all in all, sorted alphabetically.

"Anything that stood out?"

Juliet shook her head. "No. We ran the names through the system. None of the fraternity members has any priors that would be of interest. No racially motivated crimes in the past of any of these members."

Shawn nodded. That would have been too easy. Besides, those were college students. If any of them had a police file somewhere, it were probably traffic violations or other smaller crimes. It would have been hard to get accepted in college with a prior conviction in a serious offence. Not to mention that from what Shawn knew, fraternities were also known to be picky about their members.

But the Greek letters in the letter head of the list proved that Shawn was right. Pi Sigma Delta. It wasn't an exact match to the drawing Walter Pritchett had made, but similar enough to know that there could be no doubt. One of the attackers had been wearing the fraternity ring.

"Did you check about those rings? Does every member get one of those, or do you have to be in some sort of secret club within the club to get them?"

Again, Juliet shook her head. "Every member gets a fraternity ring and a fraternity pin upon their initiation. Initiation takes place after a six month probation period. The members who are on probation right now are the six on the bottom of the list. They're the only ones in the fraternity who don't have the ring yet. And of course, the members keep their rings after they graduate college. So theoretically, it could be somebody who once was a member of the fraternity."

Shawn frowned and let those thoughts run through his head. That was of course a possibility, though somehow he doubted it. Pritchett had said that his attackers sounded young. Now, the statement of somebody who had been afraid for his life at the time might not be the most reliable statement there was, but Shawn had a gut feeling that the fraternity would be the key. Not any previous members.

"I can keep this?"

Juliet nodded, and Shawn got up from his perch on the edge of the desk. "Thanks Jules. We'll let you know if we have anything. Right now, we have an office to paint."

"The report on the break-in isn't there yet, but there were no fingerprint matches on either the door- or window handles. I'll let you know if something else on that comes in."

Shawn nodded. "Thanks."
"Is the insurance going to cover the damage?"

"Most of it, yes. Don't worry Jules, I was thinking about redecorating the office, anyway. All that green, yellow and brown, it was so 1975."

Juliet smiled. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

Shawn raised an eyebrow suggestively. "While I'd be lying if I said that I wouldn't want to see you all streaked with paint, I guess you have your work cut out for you here. Besides, Gus does a pretty mean Michelangelo impersonation if you only give him a hat folded out of a newspaper."

"Shawn!"

Juliet chuckled, and Shawn followed Gus out of the police station.

"So what now?" Gus asked as they reached the car. "The home depot? We need to buy paint."

Shawn nodded. "Yeah, we can do that on the way."

"On the way to where?"

Shawn pulled out the list again. "The fraternity house. At least I think that's where we're going. Let's find a coffee shop or someplace else with internet access, and then we try to find out about those people. Maybe we see something the police have missed."

Gus rolled his eyes, but he unlocked the car and got in behind the wheel.

Two hours, three coffees and a sandwich for each of them later, Shawn and Gus gave up. They had gone through the entire list of names, had put them through all search engines imaginable, but hadn't found anything. Some of the names had linked them back to the fraternity or college homepage, some had linked back to projects or honor-certificates the members had been involved in during their time at high-school. One of the members had a blog in which he enthusiastically shared his experiences in studying the ancient philosophers. A few of them had MySpace pages, but other than a criminal taste in music there was nothing to find.

Nothing with a racist or violent background, at least.

They had even gone as far as searching through the forums on some of the websites that were connected to the White Resistance, hoping to find a username that would lead them back to one of the names on the list. But no such luck. The people posting on those websites all used usernames that left no clues as to their real names. At least Shawn thought that names like HitlerWasRight or WhitePride were not last names that were common in the United States.

They didn't find anything that tied anybody directly to those murders.

But Shawn found something else, a small note under the label "Events/Activities" on the college homepage.

"Wait Gus, what's that?"

Shawn pointed to the screen and Gus frowned as he looked at the link.

"It's a keg party. Don't tell me you don't know what a keg party is."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Of course I do. Come on Gus, I bet I've been to more keg parties than you have, and I didn't even go to college. No, I meant where it is."

Gus clicked on the link and was transported back to the website of one of the fraternities on campus.

"Pi Sigma Delta fraternity house."

Shawn nodded as he read. "The Pi Sigma Delta celebrate the beginning of the new semester with an open keg party. Non-members welcome, information about initiation available."

Gus shrugged. "It happens. Fraternities throw parties all the time. It's the beginning of the semester, a lot of first-years are running around on campus. The perfect way to find out who's interested in joining up and who might have the potential for membership."

"And a way to smooch free beers."

"That, too." Gus looked up at Shawn, and his expression darkened from one moment to the next.

"Oh no, Shawn. No way. We are not going to go to that party."

"Why not? It's the perfect way to get a look inside that house, and to get a look at the members."

"It's a perfect way to let them know that you're still working the case, you mean. Shawn, they all know what you look like, how do you think this is going to work?"

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Come on Gus, give me some credit. I didn't plan on showing up there at half past seven, pineapple in hand. It's a keg party, Gus. My guess is, most of them will be drunk as skunks at around ten. If we show up after that, nobody is going to notice if we take a quick look around."

Gus shook his head. "I don't like it, Shawn."

"Come on Gus, what could possibly happen? Worst case scenario, somebody recognizes us and they throw us out."

Gus simply sighed. "That's really the worst case scenario you can think of? Dude, you got problems."

"So, are we going to go to the party?"

Gus sighed. "At the first sign of something being off, we're out of there."

Shawn nodded enthusiastically. "Of course. Dude, how sweet is that? We're finally getting to go to a college party together."

Gus rolled his eyes. "Let's just go and buy that paint in the meantime."


Thanks for reading, and as always, please let me know what you think. Thanks a lot.