"Is Lassie still stumped with our crime scene?" Shawn asked Juliet as she hung up her phone.
Gus glared at Shawn, "A better question would be: are we going to be getting out of here anytime soon?"
"Apparently, someone turned off the power to our elevator on purpose," she responded. "They tried to sabotage it as well."
This sent the Gus into another one of his bouts of quick breathing – this had been happening a lot over the last half-hour that they had been stuck in the large box. He clutched his best friend's arm so hard that his friend winced.
"She said 'tried', Gus," Shawn said as he tried his hardest to pry Gus' fingers off his arm.
"Carlton said that Ewing's team got to him first," Juliet nodded towards the Agent in question. "Unfortunately, they scared him off and he disappeared into thin air. One of the guys managed to get a visual on the man before that, though. The description he gave matched the description you gave of the shooter at the beach, Shawn."
Ewing tapped his ear, "I've just been speaking to my team; they told me that firefighters have secured the elevator and the power will be turned on in a minute." He looked at his watch, "Make that exactly 45 seconds."
"Thank God!" Gus threw his arms into the air.
"Amen to that!" Shawn added, shaking out his freed arm. "Lassie is probably barking at his officers in frustration. Poor things – all they need is some spiritual guidance and I'm not there to provide it."
The near constant death glare he has been receiving from his friend returned once again. Juliet just rolled her eyes and Ewing didn't seem to care about his comments at all. Just when Gus was about to reprimand his friend, the elevator's lights turned on and it began to move upwards.
The doors slid open and they all shuffled out. Gus looked like he was going to kiss the floor since he was so happy that they made it out of the elevator alive. The pharmaceutical salesman did a dance and whooped out loud only to stop and shrink into the background when he noticed all the people staring at him.
"Now that you're out of the damn elevator," Lassiter said as walked up to them. He pointed at the stairwell, "I kindly suggest that you follow those stairs all the way to the ground floor."
Shawn rolled his eyes and pushed his way through a group of SWAT members and a couple of firefighters. He was heading in the opposite direction to the stairwell; he was heading towards the cordoned off suite down the hall. Since the shooter had endangered his friends in the elevator, Shawn was even more determined to find the guy.
When he entered the room, Shawn realised exactly why Lassiter was peeved that he had come – the room had next to nothing in it. If Shawn found something in this minimalistic apartment, it would be very embarrassing for the Head Detective. Nevertheless, it didn't hurt to look around.
Shawn scanned the room and, in just one glance, he could very easily peg the style of the apartment. All the furniture and walls were either a solid red, white or black. The phrase 'Bold and minimalistic' fit the suite to a T.
Lassiter cleared his throat, "This is such a waste of time. It's plain to see that there is nothing here."
When Shawn finished scanning the floor, he had the sinking feeling that Lassiter might be right for once. Still, he had to cover all his bases so he then turned his gaze to the practically bare walls and the ceiling.
"I'm getting something…" Shawn intoned. He waved his arm in circles in front of him, "I'm getting… a big frowny face and the word 'detail'."
"Stop being so desperate, Spencer. A flea-bitten blind raccoon could look at this place and tell me that."
"You know a talking raccoon?" Shawn bit back a yelp when Lassiter began to pull Shawn out of the room.
Juliet's hand on the Head Detective's arm stopped him, "Let him finish, Carlton. Honestly, we don't have much to go on. Whatever Shawn has to say may be of great significance to us."
Shawn was begrudgingly let go and shoved back to the centre of the room. Lassiter growled, "Your spirits better come up with something better in the next five minutes or I'll personally escort you out of the building."
"The proof is in the detail." Shawn waved his arms around wildly. "Not only is the detail out of place but it's also on something royal and mouldy."
Lassiter narrowed his eyes, "This takes the cake—"
"The crown moulding!" Juliet gasped, interrupting Lassiter's newest lecture before it even started. "Not only is it new-looking; it's also the only thing that's intricately detailed."
The pseudo psychic walked over to one wall where he could see a slight gap between the crowning and the ceiling. He pulled up an odd-looking plastic chair and stood on it. It took some tugging on his part but the crowning came off the wall to reveal a rather large hole between the ceiling and the wall.
"Holy mother of Clint Eastwood," Lassiter exclaimed.
A large sniper's rifle and tripod were stashed in the hole. Unfortunately, Shawn didn't need Gus' Super Smeller to tell that the criminal had covered all his bases – he could smell the bleach in the air with his own nose just fine. That meant the police were unlikely to find genetic evidence on the weapon.
He jumped off the chair to let CSUs through to retrieve the gun and walked over to his African American friend. Shawn raised his fist and Gus smiled and bumped it with his own.
"Dude, I was getting really worried for a second there."
"You've been worried since the elevator stopped, Gus," Shawn retorted quickly.
One of the CSUs yelped when, right after they had removed the gun and tripod, a medium sized duffel bag tumbled out of the hole. Because it was partially unzipped, its contents spilled out all over the floor.
"So that's how he managed to disappear," Juliet said.
All the officers in the room looked at each other with shock on their faces. Scattered on the floor were multiple uniforms for all sorts of jobs – one of which happened to be an official police uniform. This was the break they were looking for but not the one that they particularly wanted. From now on, identity checks were probably going to have to be a lot more thorough.
That was when Agent Ewing decided that he would make his presence known. Flanked on either side of him were two tall, burly men: a big African-American man and a hulk-sized red-head.
"Impressive. The proof iwas/i in the detail," Ewing said. "It's no wonder you managed to catch our fraudulent Psychic the last time we worked together. Due to the tenacity of the shooter in trying to kill you, I think it is safe to assume that he fears your abilities as well."
"What are you implying?" Juliet asked suspiciously.
"I'm implying that Shawn needs protection," Ewing replied and gestured to the two men beside him.