It took a second for Gus to shake off the surprise. Shawn was standing in front of him. He didn't look any different, but Gus hadn't expected Shawn to change. He wondered briefly if he had fallen asleep over Juliet's desk and this was all a weird dream, but Gus highly doubted it. "Shawn!"
Shawn looked at his friend and grinned, "Gus, it's good to see you."
"You're here!" Gus replied, stating the obvious.
"Guess so," Shawn nodded, shrugging his shoulders.
"I don't understand. I talked to your dad, he said you weren't coming."
Shawn heard the door slam shut and let go a deep breath. A surprise visit from his father who he hadn't seen in over a year had taken it out of him. It had been a while since he had fought with anyone.
He didn't know what his father was thinking, how could he possibly go back to Santa Barbara, after everything that had happened.
He had tried to make a clean break; cut off all ties and start a new life somewhere else and he had managed it. A job, friends, an apartment, what more did he need?
He walked into the kitchen, his eyes instantly falling in the scrap paper on the floor where he had dropped it earlier. The faces of the victims stared back up at him. His stomach felt heavy and his head was buzzing. He was selfish, Shawn realised. This whole time he had been thinking about himself. It wasn't all about him. His dad was right, he could help.
He ran from the room and into his bedroom. He dropped to the floor and reached under the bed for a bag. He dropped the bed on the bed and began throwing clothes into the bag, barely caring what they were. He would probably end up with five shirts and no trousers.
He grabbed his wallet from the side and ran out the door.
"Hey Harry!" Hey shouted as he rand down the staircase and round the building into the workshop. "Harry!" He called again.
"Quit shouting boy," Harry replied, walking up to Shawn. "Where's the fire?"
"I have to go."
"Go? Go where?"
"Santa Barbara, my dad, some people need my help," Shawn tried to get out but it was all coming out wrong.
"I saw him leave, can't say he looked good."
"I know, my fault, as usual."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Okay, go," he decided finally.
"I'll be back," Shawn assured.
"I know you will," Harry replied with confidence.
Shawn grinned, "See ya Harry."
Harry slapped Shawn on the shoulder. "Bye kid," he returned the smile and then watched as Shawn ran out of the workshop
"I changed my mind," Shawn replied.
"I'm glad you did, man."
"I'm gonna solve this case."
Gus nodded, "I know."
Lassiter rolled his eyes, "Can we please end this sickly sweet reunion and get back to the case?"
"Lassie," Shawn took a step towards the smartly dressed detective. "Still grumpy as ever I see."
"Spencer," Lassiter greeted, "I knew you had to be back in the building when the throbbing in my head returned."
Shawn glanced as the young detective. "Juliet," he greeted, no emotion in voice.
"It's good to see you Shawn," she replied.
"Let's get this over with shall we?" Shawn sighed. "The quicker I can solve this thing, the quicker I can get back to my life." Gus raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
Juliet led Shawn to the case board where all the photos and all the pertinent information was tacked up. She watched as he absorbed the information in fascination. For the first time she wasn't seeing a psychic try to communicate with the spirits, she was seeing a man take in information like it was food and seeing the cogs in his brain whirr to life.
A flash of uncertainty passed through his mind as he realised how rusty he was at this. What if he couldn't solve the case? His hand went out to touch the first photo, "Albright." His hand moved to the next photo. "Baker," then the next. "Christov," then finally settled on the fourth photo, "Derrings."
"What are you thinking?" Juliet asked from behind him.
He didn't answer; his mind was too focused on the case. The victims, there was a connection between them all he just needed to figure it out. It would help him work out who the next victim would be. The answer came to him suddenly.
His eyes widened and he turned away from the board.
"Where are you going?" Juliet called as Shawn started towards the exit.
"I'll be back," Shawn replied.
"Yeah?" Lassiter folded his arms tight across his chest. "When? In another year?"
Shawn said nothing as he turned the corner and disappeared. A minute later they heard a car starting. Gus raised an eyebrow and ran the window. His jaw dropped as his eyes fell on the empty space where he had left his car. "He took my car!"
Shawn strode into the station over an hour later, a folder under his arm and purpose in his eyes. Gus jumped up from his seat energetically, even though it was well past midnight.
"Finally," Lassiter said. "Where have you been?"
"Do you care?" Shawn replied.
Lassiter ignored the remark, "Do you know how long we've been waiting?"
Shawn didn't need to look at the clock on the wall to answer. "One hour, five minutes."
Lassiter opened his mouth and closed it again, imitating a goldfish. Shawn stopped in front of the board and began taking down all the papers and photos he didn't need, dropping them carelessly on the floor, leaving the four photos he needed in a row on the board.
He pointed to the first photo, the first crime scene. "Freddie Albright," he said.
"Yes," Lassie drew out slowly. "We know that."
Shawn pulled out a piece of paper and stuck it underneath. "This is a painting by Albrecht Altdorfer."
"What no floppy hands and arm waving?" Lassiter asked.
""I'm sorry Lassie; I left my floppy arms on my Mr Potato Head," Shawn retorted sharply. "I did lose his shoes though, now he just rolls everywhere," he added. Lassiter rolled his eyes.
Juliet took a step towards the board. The painting was of an old man with a long beard, sans clothes and a white sheet around his waist. A dog lay by his feet in the forest. The crime scene was almost an exact replica of the painting.
Shawn took a step to the side and pointed to the next photo "Penny Baker", a second picture was pulled out of the file under his arm and he stuck it underneath the second photo. "Sandro Botticelli's Birth of Venus."
Again the photos were almost exact. Baker's long flowing hair arranged around her naked body and a shell at her feet.
A third picture was placed under the third crime scene "Gustave Caillebotte". A man in a rowing boat, dressed up in a suit, the same suit Christov was found in.
"And lastly," another picture was pulled from the file, "Edgar Degas".
"They match," Juliet remarked as she stared at the two ballerinas, one in mid dance, pastel on paper, the other laying on the stage in the same posture. "All of them."
"That's the connection? Famous painters?" Gus asked.
"How the hell did you figure that out?"
"I had a girlfriend who worked in a gallery," Shawn answered with a shrug.
"Kelly?" Gus asked.
"Nina," Shawn replied.
"Okay," Lassiter took back control of the conversation. "You worked out the connection, now how about telling us who's next."
"What? I'm supposed to do all the work?"
Lassiter glowered. "My tolerance for you might have built up with you around, but I haven't had to deal with you in a long while. So you better start talking before I start shooting," he said through gritted teeth.
Shawn sighed. "Your killer is choosing the artists and paintings from a website, www dot the a to z of artists dot com," he answered. "Albrecht Altdorfer, Sandro Botticelli, Gustave Caillebotte, Edgar Degas…."
"And?" Juliet asked.
"Thomas Eakins," Shawn pulled the last photo from the file and stuck it up on the board. "It's called Portrait of Archbishop William Henry Elder."
"So we're looking for an Archbishop with a surname beginning with the letter E?" Gus asked.
Juliet grinned, "That narrows down the search dramatically."
"And my work here is done," Shawn bowed dramatically. He turned and began to leave, grabbing his bag from under Juliet's desk.
"You worked this all out yourself?" Lassiter asked, as skeptical as usual.
Shawn stopped and turned to face Lassiter, tired by the lack of faith in his abilities. "Where do you think I got the information? Clue-mart? On sale, four for ten bucks? Give me some credit!" He said for turning and leaving.