The secretary locked-down Guster's office again and swore she wouldn't open it until the Crime Scene Unit got there.
The three of us knew it was a long shot, dusting for prints, but sometimes in an investigation a long-shot is all you can hope for.
Sometimes, it's all that gets you through the day.
Spencer was out the front door of the office building before O'Hara and I were, eager to start tracking down our one lead.
O'Hara, however, wasn't so eager. She pulled me aside as Spencer dashed out the front door.
"We can't take him with us this time, Carlton," she told me, meeting my eyes earnestly. "He's…he's not okay."
I knew what she meant by this, of course. But for some reason I didn't fully understand, I pretended I didn't have a clue.
Playing dumb isn't something I generally tolerate, much less actually participate in…but somehow, in this case, it just seemed like the right thing to do.
"He'll be fine," I shrugged, trying to push past her. She stepped between me and the door, stopping me dead in my tracks with just one sharp glare.
In my entire life, I've only had one other partner who could stop me like that…but that was for completely different reasons.
"What?" I grunted, stubbornly clinging to my feigned ignorance.
"You know what!" she snapped. "Walking him through Psych again was one thing…but this is too much. He's on the verge of a breakdown! We can't take him to investigate a potential suspect!"
"Why the hell not?" I demanded, quickly losing patience with this game. "He's not armed."
O'Hara was not amused.
At all.
"I'm serious!" she growled.
"I know."
"It's not fair to him," she pressed on. "He hasn't even had a chance to process everything. He pointed us in the right direction…isn't that enough? We can't expect him to actually find the person who murdered his best friend, especially if he's right about all of this and it wasn't a random burglary. If it was a hit of some kind…God, Carlton. You saw his face when he found the cup. How do you think he's going to react when we find something concrete?"
She paused for a long moment, sucking her breath in with a long, tired sigh. "I can't watch him like this. He's not even here. You can see it in his eyes…he can't do this. How much help can he possibly be when we spend the entire investigation keeping him from going off the edge?"
"We don't have a choice, O'Hara," I told her, stepping around her for real this time.
"Yes, we do."
I stopped, turning around again slowly. "No. We don't. We missed the sample case. We were on the wrong track from the start. Whatever the hell it is Spencer keeps saying he can't see…he's seeing it, O'Hara. Better than we are, at least."
I looked around to make sure no one heard me say it. I was already prepared to deny under torture I'd ever said it.
"But he's too close."
"We can't help that," I shrugged. "He'll be too close whether or not he's involved."
She shook her head sadly.
Because she'll never actually admit it, I've learned to accept this gesture as acknowledgement that she knows I'm right.
"It's just not fair," she sighed. "It's not fair."
"I know," I nodded.
She wasn't wrong about a single fact.
She was completely right about everything she was saying.
Part of me even agreed with her.
Except, she was also dead wrong.
"He's the one waiting for us in the squad car," I reminded her. "He could have gone home after he walked through the crime scene. But he didn't. He wants in, O'Hara, and I'm sure as hell not going to kick him off."