Chapter 3

"Wakey-wakey!" Someone throws open the shades in my room, sending light streaming into my sleepy eyes. I mutter a few choice curse words and reluctantly sit up. I spent the night at my stepmother's house in one of the guest rooms.

"It's 7:30 in the morning, why are you getting me up, Dad?" God, do I miss having my own place.

"Juliet is going into work, and we thought it might be fun for you two to spend some time together. She's not working any major cases, so she said it would be perfectly fine for you to tag along."

"Isn't she a cop? Isn't that stuff confidential and stuff?" My dad shrugs.

"She didn't think it would a problem. Besides, it would be good for you to see how a real job operates."

"Dad. I have a real job. Just because it doesn't involve going into an office everyday and sprinting around doesn't mean it's not –"

"Look, just go. You two should get to know each other better, and you don't have that much time in town."

"Fine," I say with some bite.

"Great! She's leaving soon, so get moving." With some grumbling, I get out of bed and drag myself to the shower. It's so typical that this vacation won't be at all relaxing. The holidays never are, though.

When I get to the kitchen, some of the assembled family members smother laughs at piece-meal business casual look. I put a Christmas sweater with a pencil skirt, patterned tights, and riding boots. Juliet looks at me and hides a wince.

"See, this is what I mean, Jasmine. You don't even know how to dress to go to a business function," my dad comments. I give an exaggerated eye roll.

"I wouldn't normally wear this, but this is the best I could do with what I packed," I shoot back. Everyone in the assembled kitchen hushes.

"I think I have some things that might fit you," Juliet offers. "We'll stop by my place on the way over." I mumble my thanks and grab some breakfast and fill up my thermos with coffee.

She's got a pretty nice place, and we find some little black heels and a black t-shirt and cardigan that will fit. It's a pretty snug on the chest, but the black fabric and layers help conceal that. I thank her profusely.

"Don't worry about it. Sorry your dad was such a tool about your outfit this morning. I thought it was cute, in a fashion-forward sort of way." I laugh.

"Thanks, Juliet. I appreciate the sentiment." Just as we're pulling into the police station, I realize that by spending the day with my new stepsister, I'll also be spending the time with her partner, Carlton. I feel a rush of butterflies at the thought. He sure is handsome. I hope things aren't awkward, though, I think with a twinge of regret at our rash encounter last night. I wasn't exactly expecting to see him again in my entire life when I decided to act on that lust.

But we'll just both pretend we don't know each other, and everything will be normal. Juliet leads me into the station and talks to someone at the front to get me a visitor pass.

"Have you ever been in a police station?" she asks, making conversation.

"Yeah, once. I was arrested for possession." She comes to a halt. "Oh, don't look at me like that. It was college. I was an art major. I've smoked some weed, okay? I think the world will keep turning."

"Alright. Just don't mention that on the form you'll have to fill out."

"Understood." I do a quick scan around for Carlton, but he might not be in yet since it's still early. Maybe Juliet and I will have to go out and do some reconnaissance or something before he gets in.

"O'Hara, break on the murder investigation that came up last night." I stiffen at his voice. I guess we won't be so lucky. He speaks with so much more command now, no longer out of place and awkward in an unfamiliar situation. We turn around in unison, and he visibly starts at my unexpected presence. Juliet doesn't miss this.

"Lassiter? Do you know my stepsister Jasmine?" she asks with just a hint of suspicion.

"We met at the party last night," I hurry to explain, "and chatted briefly."

"That's right, good to see you again," he says formally and smoothly, having recovered now. He extends his hand. We shake stiffly. "I was not expecting a civilian to be here. We don't really have the privilege to be slowed down today. No offense," he says, flicking his gaze briefly to me. "This murder could be visiting, and we will need to nail him before he leaves town."
"He or she," I add. "Do you always just use the male pronouns when discussing criminals? Don't you think that might psychologically bias your evaluation of suspects?"

"Fair point, but statistically speaking, the vast majority of murders are male," he counters. "And this saves time."

"You could use a gender-neutral pronoun. Same amount of time and no bias." He bites back his retort and turns to Juliet.

"This is what I mean. We don't have time for this." His tone is calm, but there is a tension in his voice.

"She does have a point," Juliet points out. "But you're right. Jasmine, in murder investigations, time is especially critical. When our parents suggested you tag along for the day, I didn't realize we had an open murder investigation to work on." She says, shooting Carlton an irritated look. "I think it's probably best you head back. You can take my car and pick me up at 5:30 or so-"

"I'm not saying she has to leave," Carlton steps in. "She just probably shouldn't…say much," he finishes his suggestion a little uncomfortably. Juliet thinks.

"If your partner is okay with it, and I promise not to get in the way, I would like to see how a murder investigation goes. I don't have much to do back at your mom's place anyways," I say. She brightens a little.

"Alright, then, little sis," she gives me a slight nudge, "welcome to the team. So, what's the rundown of this case?" She leads the way to their desks, and Carlton and I share a quick, surreptitious smile. He hands her a case file, and I follow a few steps back from them.

As they review the evidence, I gaze around the station. It's an interesting place, and I like the south-western décor style they have going on. After an hour or so, I find that the police station isn't all that much more exciting than Juliet's mom's house. Juliet and Carlton are going over photos of the scene and using jargon I don't understand. The thrill of observing a police investigation is a lot less exciting when the investigation consists of combing the scene for evidence and asking people about forensics. It's not as fast-paced as I hoped.

So I take to observing Carlton instead: the way he strolls around the station, the confident authority he uses to talk to subordinates, his tenacity and diligence for his job. He catches my gaze a few times, which makes me blush and reconsider the wisdom of my observation, but there really is nothing else to do. There's a pretty cute cop that sometimes comes into my view, and damn is he built, but I see a wedding ring on his hand, so I know I need to stay clear. I stand up for the fifth time to refill my water bottle.

"You're not having a lot of fun, are you?" Juliet asks a bit sadly when I sit down. I take a deep breath.

"It's not that I'm not having fun, it's just that…I guess I thought police work involved more…fireworks?" She nods slowly.

"It's not as glamorous as TV makes it seem. I'm sorry you're disappointed."

"No, don't be! It still beats hanging out with your family." I realize what I said was a little offensive, and I quickly try to backtrack. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong. It's not that they're not nice, I'm sure they're wonderful people. I just feel a little out of place."

"And unwelcome," she finishes what I'm not willing to say. "Yeah, they're not always the most accommodating people. I'm sorry you haven't felt at home."

"If it helps, you're by far my favorite." She smiles at that, so I'd say it does.

"Thanks."

"You're not all like what I think of when I think cop; you're so nice! Your partner on the other hand…that's more what I think of."

"Yeah, Lassiter can be a little abrasive. But he's not so bad when you get to know him. A lot of it is an act, anyways. Or a defense, I suppose." She shakes off the thought. "I'm surprised you haven't seen more of his nasty side, considering how you sassed him this morning. Normally he would bite someone's head off for that." I raise my eyebrows at that.

"I guess we caught him in a good mood." She shrugs.

"O'Hara, stop all that chitchat. We've got a break," he shouts from his desk across the room. We share a glance while he walks over. "But it's not a very good one." He passes some papers to Juliet.

"Oh, no," she exhales. Now I'm interested again. I look from Juliet to Carlton. I catch his eyes locked on me, which he instantly shifts elsewhere. She looks up from the file.

"This man who was killed lives next door to one of our friends," Juliet says.

"Consultants, more like," he corrects with some scorn. I wonder what that's about.

"Anyways," she says with a pointed glance at him, "his father is implicated by the evidence."

"That is 'oh, no'. How strong is the evidence?" She passes me the file, and I glance over it. Prints on one of the murder weapons, and connections to the others. She shifts in her chair to face Carlton.

"I know you don't like their methods, but I don't know why you're so hard on them. They've solved a lot of cases for us."

"They're idiots, O'Hara," he retorts.

"Regardless, they're coming in this afternoon. What are we going to do? Interrogate Gus' father?" Maybe police work isn't so boring after all. I'm excited to meet these surprisingly effective "idiots."

"We'll have to. Maybe he'll have a reasonable explanation." They spend the next hour looking into other leads, but nothing is coming up.

When the consultants they talked about arrive, I can sense the detectives' uneasiness with this. The white man calls out to them in a very friendly manner.

"Jules, Lassie!" My eyes bulge. Did he really just call Detective Lassiter "Lassie"? No wonder Carlton hates this guy. In the group, there are two older black people and a younger man, who must be the son they were talking about.

"And who is this new ray of divine light?" The white guy asks as he approaches us. He's not bad looking, but he's got a little too much of a frat-boy look going on for my taste. Beside me, I can sense Carlton stiffen just a little.

"Shawn, this is my stepsister, Jasmine. She's visiting, and we're spending the day together." Shawn gasps, putting on quite a performance.

"Jules, you didn't tell us you had a sister." She and I share a look.

"It's kind of a new thing," I explain. He holds up a hand.

"No need to explain, I see it now," he says, bringing his hand to his temple. "Shawn Spencer, head psychic detective for the SBPD." We shake hands. "This is my partner Jiggly-bob Bananapants."

"Ignore him, he's just being silly," 'Jiggly-bob' says. "My name is Burton Guster. It's a pleasure." He gives me a pleasant smile and hand shake. He's not bad looking either, but he's got this weird fake-sexy voice thing going on.

"If we're all done with the introductions," Carlton cuts in, "come with me." He and Juliet lead them to a conference room. I hang back since I get the feeling things aren't going to go great in there, but I stay close enough to get an idea about how events are about to unfold.

Everything starts out relatively smoothly, but soon the tension in the room increases exponentially, judging by everyone's body language. A few minutes later, Gus' dad is being lead out of the room by Carlton. I can't help but picture myself in those cuffs, Carlton's hand on me… We didn't get the chance to tap into his handcuffs last night. I shake myself. While I doubt that Shawn actually is psychic, it might be a good idea to keep those kinds of lustful thoughts and memories to myself. Still in the room, Juliet and Shawn have a bit of a spat before she leaves the room herself and approaches me.

"That didn't look easy."

"It wasn't. I'll let Lassiter handle the booking, and I'll fill out the paperwork." She heads back to her desk.

"Do you really think that he did it? He looks so nice."

"That's certainly no indication. We have to follow the evidence, and that's what the evidence says right now."