She was already there when Shawn got to Investigative Procedures, sitting in the front row. He slid into the seat next to her and looked down at the open notebook on her desk, hoping to find a name.
"It's Jessie," she said with a smile, watching him out of the corner of her eye. "But shouldn't you already know that?"
"That was the last thing on earth I had left to learn," Shawn answered breezily. "Now I know everything."
"Do you?"
She leaned back in her chair, turning her pale hazel eyes on him.
"Then impress me, Mr. Psychic Man."
Shawn grinned, looking her over carefully.
"Well…you're a cop. And you like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain…"
"Oh, come on." She laughed, shaking her head. "The police department's master psychic can do better than that."
Shawn never got the chance to do better than that, however, as class began at that moment.
The lights suddenly went off, and a series of crime scene photos were projected onto the screen at the front of the room.
"We were looking at these yesterday," Detective Johnson began as the room fell into silence. "Who can tell me, what is the first thing any officer arriving at this scene should do?"
Several hands shot up, but Shawn had never really mastered the art of not calling out in class, much to the chagrin of every teacher he'd ever had.
"Look for the nearest jealous clown," he spoke up, almost without thinking.
There were scattered chuckles around the room, but Detective Johnson didn't look amused.
"What makes you say that, Spencer?" He asked.
Shawn shrugged.
"Well, the victim was a clown. And he was murdered by someone he knew."
The laughter immediately stopped.
Even in the dark, Shawn could feel all eighteen pairs of eyes focusing intently on him.
"What makes you think the victim was a clown?" Detective Johnson demanded, his brow furrowing.
"He's psychic," Jessie interjected, gently nudging Shawn's foot under the desk.
"Well, there's that." Shawn admitted. "But there's also the patch white make-up behind the victim's ear and the tan line around his nose where his fake nose would go. And all the mugs hanging on the wall are facing the same direction except for two, which probably means the murderer put them back to throw us off the track. Which means they probably knew the victim. Not even clowns offer murderers they don't know a drink."
"Anything else?" Detective Johnson asked quietly, clearly somewhat impressed.
Shawn squinted at the screen, then shrugged.
"No. Just that the murder weapon was probably the vase that's missing from the corner table. You can see the imprint where it used to be in the dust."
The room was completely silent.
Shawn cleared his throat awkwardly, the staring finally starting to get to him just a little.
"But you probably already figured that out…" he added quietly.
"Okay, Mr. Psychic Man." Jessie smiled, catching up with Shawn as they left class and started to make their way across the Academy lawn. "I'm impressed."
"Really?" Shawn asked, raising his eyebrows. "So I was right about the pina colada thing?"
"Not with that. With the crime scene photos."
"Oh."
"…And I'm more of a beer person, actually. For future reference."
"Good to know," Shawn grinned.
"But I thought you knew everything."
"Now I do."
Their eyes met, but Shawn was suddenly distracted when he saw Juliet's car turn the corner and come to a stop in front of the Academy.
He recognized it immediately, even from a hundred yards away.
"What's wrong?" Jessie asked, trying to follow Shawn's suddenly distant eyes.
"Nothing…" Shawn murmured, already starting to walk away. "I just remembered I have to go…"
He jogged to the curb and jumped into the car, which pulled away almost before he could shut the door behind him.
"What's going on?" He asked, knowing it had to be something big for Juliet to come to the Academy to find him.
"I don't know," she shrugged. "I just know the Chief got the ME's report back and has been trying to call you on your cell phone for an hour."
"I turned it off."
"Well, she wants you back at the station. Now."
"It couldn't wait until--"
"I guess not."
For a minute, neither of them spoke. Juliet's eyes were focused on the road ahead as she turned a corner.
"Was that a suspect?" She asked finally, perhaps just a little too casually.
"Was who a suspect?" Shawn mumbled, not really listening as he tried to figure out what could be going on back at the station.
"That…person you were talking to," Juliet continued, choosing each word deliberately. "Is she a suspect?"
Shawn cocked an interested eyebrow as he glanced over at the driver's seat, suddenly listening intently. He tried to keep a straight face as he formed his response, but he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from creeping up just a bit.
"No. Not yet. Why?"
"So, she hasn't tried to kill you, then?" Juliet asked with a disarmingly affable smile.
Shawn laughed despite himself.
"Why would she try to kill me?"
"I don't know," Juliet shrugged, finally tearing her eyes away from the road long enough to look at him. "Women are always trying to kill you."
"They are not!" Shawn protested, truly offended by the implication.
But Juliet wasn't about to let this drop.
"What about that FBI psychic?" She pressed.
"Okay…" He conceded begrudgingly. "…So that's one woman--"
"And that bridesmaid-slash-ring thief…"
"She didn't actually try to kill me…" Shawn pointed out, growing slightly defensive at the rapidly-growing list of potential murderers.
"But she was a killer." Juliet countered.
"Well, yeah…" Shawn sulked. "…But she had magic hands…"
"Not to mention the psycho at the Spanish-Language Soap Opera…"
"That one wasn't my fault!" Shawn shouted. "She was insane! She tried to kill everyone!"
"I'm just saying!" Juliet snapped, coming to a stop in front of the SBPD. "You don't have good luck with female suspects."
Shawn got out of the car in a huff, slamming the door and marching inside. Juliet was right behind him.
"Well, at least I didn't have some psycho girl come at me with an axe!" He muttered, holding the precinct door open and letting Juliet enter first.
"She thought I killed her best friend!" She shot back. "And she was a psycho!"
"I'm just saying! I'm not the only person women want to murder!"