Me: Who is it? (opens door)

Shawn (fingers on temple): I sense that there is pineapple here.

Me: SHAWN! GUS! YES!

I don't own Psych, but I now have the characters at my house! (The most important ones anyway…)

Gus hurried after Henry at the police station. Juliet and Vick were in the latter's office.

"Do we have anything?" Henry demanded as he entered, Gus close behind.

"Nothing since the press release," Juliet sighed.

"There were a few calls, but none were legitimate," Vick clarified.

"Carlton's been running around, checking them all out." Juliet nodded toward the front, where Lassie was just coming in. The look on his face was even worse than it normally was.

That didn't bode well.

Shawn peeked around the corner into the living room. A clock read 3:47 p.m. Sooo behind on my meals, Shawn thought, taking another bite of the pineapple slice he had found in the fridge.

He chewed slowly as he slipped into the room, crouching behind furniture to keep himself invisible from the stairs. Poking his head up, he checked out the photos on the fireplace mantel. His captor was in all of them, some with her and a dog, some of just her. All of them taken at the cabin.

Interesting…

Footsteps on the stairs alerted Shawn to Chewy's approach. He dropped to the ground, letting his good arm take the brunt of the blow. He still had to hold back a yell from the pain that shot from his knee to his shoulder. He bit his lip too hard, drawing blood. If it's not her hurting me, then it's me hurting me.

Suitcase wheels hit the ground and rolled toward the garage where the door opened and closed.

Shawn didn't have much time. As soon as Chewy loaded her suitcase, she would come and get Shawn.

Only Shawn wouldn't be there.

Time to go, Shawn thought to himself, shoving the rest of the pineapple in his mouth. The window was propped open about an inch, and Shawn chose that as his exit point. Even if Chewy came back in before he was totally gone, he would have a few extra minutes than if he went through the front door.

The window slid easily and quietly, one thing that actually went well for Shawn. He slid it back down and started a quick, limping run for the woods, his knee still painful from when Chewy hit him with a bat.

Sandra Bilkin, alias Amanda Chew, angrily threw her suitcase in the car and headed back for the main house. How dare they mess with her plans! Why couldn't they just leave her alone? She just needed the money. She had to get the money. If she didn't…

She went to the closet, gripping her gun tightly. She didn't like hurting the psychic, but…

"Some on, psychic. It's time to-"

The room was empty.

The room was EMPTY!

How could this have happened? She had been so careful.

Frantically, she whipped around and started looking all over. She started for the front door, then thought better. The back door was her next destination, but as she headed through the living room, she noted drips on the carpet. A sniff told her all she needed to know. Pineapple drops. A slight breeze through the window drew her attention, and she zeroed in on the window sill.

Red droplets of blood marred the otherwise white surface.

Grabbing the baseball bat, a roll of duct tape, and a pair of binoculars from the desk drawer, Sandra headed out, her gun stuck in the back of her pants, hidden from sight.

Shawn zig zagged through the forest at a fast pace. He knew that Chewy would be on his tail soon enough, and he wanted to put as much distance between her and him as possible. He stumbled to a stop, clutching at his broken rib. Funny, he thought as his hand came away red. I hadn't noticed it bleeding before. Must have done something to it when I hit the ground at the house.

A slamming door back at the house made Shawn jump. He looked back, glad that he had put enough trees behind him to hide the house.

Don't stop now, he told himself. Pushing off from the tree, he resumed his zig zag pattern.

"And then she accused me of being a child molester! Me!" Carlton wrapped up his story about his misadventures with the horrible leads they had gotten. Heck, Shawn had probably hired these people.

Juliet gave Carlton a few pats on the back which he actually accepted.

"So, did you two have any luck?" Carlton asked Henry and Gus, assuming they hadn't since they were back at the station.

"We only found one cabin, and it looked like the one from Cabin Fever," Gus said, giving Henry a look.

"A woman named Amanda Chew was there. She was nice enough, I have Buzz running the names she gave me to verify where she was last night," Henry explained.

Right on cue, Buzz poked his head in. "Um, oh! Hi, Detective Lassiter. I didn't see you come in."

"What do you have, McNab?" Vick asked.

"Oh, right. I have nothing."

Vick frowned. "And why are you here?"

"Well, it's not that I don't have anything to show, it's just that none of the names you gave me exist."

"None of them?" It was Spencer's turn to frown.

"Yeah, no one exists, I'm sure."

Spencer looked like he was about to argue when his face changed to one of realization. "She knew we were looking for someone."

"What?" Carlton asked.

"When I turned to leave, she said that she hoped we would find who we were looking for. I never told her we were looking for someone."

A split second passed, then everyone moved at once.

"Come on," Carlton ordered Juliet. It was unneeded, everyone was heading for the door, even Buzz. "You know where the cabin is, Spencer?"

"Of course."

Shawn stopped short at the edge of the cut off. The drop-off went down to a dry creek bed, about fifteen feet below where he was standing.

A curse from somewhere behind him alerted him to his quickly approaching enemy.

"Dang it, Lassie. If you had just listened to me…," he said to himself. He grimaced in anticipation of the hurt he was about to feel. "Geronimo," he said, rolling his shoulders. He knelt and slid off the ledge, using his good arm to steady himself against the wall and trying his best to steady himself with the limited motion he possessed in his bad arm. He made it three-quarters of the way down before he lost his balance and tumbled the rest of the way down.

Landing on his gunshot shoulder, he hissed in his breath. Ow, ow, ow , ow, ow, OW! Gus was going to have to buy him a bionic arm, like Will Smith's in I, Robot.

I wonder if there's a pineapple robot I could invest in? Shawn wondered as he got up and continued his limping run down the creek bed.

And the hunt is on!

But more importantly, Shawn found his pineapple.

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~MyDarkAnge710