Note: Thanks to all the reviewers! Sorry that I'm taking a little longer between updates than last time. Work has been so crazy that lately I can only write on the weekend.
Gus was waiting at the car when Shawn came out of the morgue. He had his arms crossed, and Shawn didn't think he looked very happy. "Okay, what now?" he demanded, as he pulled open the passenger side door. "Are you still upset that I arranged a slumber party with a bunch of murder suspects?"
"What happened to my candy, Shawn?" Gus demanded. "You know I like to have Red Vines in the glove box for when I'm stressed, and they're all gone."
"I donated them to a good cause," Shawn said. Gus did not look appeased, so Shawn let out a sound of frustration and turned to face him. "Look, if we survive the night, I will you buy more Red Vines, does that make you feel better?"
"No it doesn't make me feel better!" Gus snapped. "What do you mean if we survive the night?"
"Did I say that part out loud?" Shawn asked with a frown. "I meant, after we survive the night, obviously."
Gus glared at him some more, but got into the driver's seat in a huff. "You know, what's the point of you sleeping with some gun-toting detective if you're not going to keep him around for protection?"
"Guns are generally not the kind of protection I'm concerned with when it comes to Lassiter," Shawn said. "He's my boyfriend, not my bodyguard."
"I'm just saying," Gus said. "I thought he was going to help on this case? Maybe you should go with him. I could do research."
"I've got Lassiter doing the research," Shawn protested.
"You need to learn the proper way to delegate, Shawn," Gus snapped. "You take the man with the gun as backup. You send me to do the research so that I don't get killed."
"If that's what you want," Shawn said easily. "You're being really grown-up about this, I'm impressed, Gus, really. I thought you might get a little self-conscious that Lassiter was going to take your place as my partner, but if I'd known you'd be this obliging, I would have suggested that I go with him. In fact, maybe I'll just—"
As soon as Shawn went for his cellphone, Gus ripped it out of his hands. "That's not what I meant," he snapped. "I'm your partner, not Lassiter."
"Exactly," Shawn said, taking the phone back. "You're my partner. So let's go solve a murder, what do you say?"
"Fine," Gus said, and started the car. "But you owe me three packs of Red Vines."
"You got it, buddy," Shawn said.
"Where is this place anyway?" Gus asked.
"Padaro Lane," Shawn said, unfolding the address that Eveline had written down for him.
"Padaro Lane?" Gus echoed disbelievingly. "Are you serious?"
"Only very rarely," Shawn said. "But yes, that's what it says."
Gus was looking more at ease. "Okay, okay, that's okay then," he said. "Those places are mansions, Shawn, very high end. I bet there's nothing creepy about this place at all."
"That's the spirit," Shawn said. "Pun entirely intended."
"What pun?" Gus asked.
"Spirit," Shawn said. "You know like—nevermind, the moment is gone. Turn here."
Gus made the turn with a frown. "How do you even know where Padaro Lane is?" he demanded.
"I was a live in manny here for like three weeks once," Shawn said.
"No way," Gus said.
"Okay, so it was three days," Shawn said. "How was I supposed to know it's a bad idea to let kids stay up all night watching the Twilight Zone?"
"Common sense?" Gus asked.
"You know my sense isn't common, Gus," Shawn said.
"I can't believe people actually trusted you with kids," Gus said.
"Kids love me," Shawn said. "Little Skylar still writes. He's in junior high now, can you believe it? They grow up so fast."
Gus looked disturbed. "Well, whatever. Is this place close or what?"
"Turn right," Shawn said, without looking up. "About ten minutes down this road you're going to see a giant stone wall that looks fit for Camelot."
Shawn leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. He knew they had arrived when he heard Gus's startled intake of breath. "I want to live here, Shawn," Gus said.
Shawn leaned forward, running his eyes over the mansions. They looked more like museums. He snorted. "Please, they're not all they're cut out to be," he said.
"How would you know?" Gus demanded.
"I lived here for three days, Gus, pay attention," Shawn said. "It was too big. I kept getting lost. Everyone communicated by intercom. Give me a little house by the beach any day."
"Then why did you want to stay here so bad?" Gus asked.
"Because I think our killer is someone that lives there," Shawn said. "We need to see them there together. We need to see how they interact. I need to touch things. Look in closets. The usual. The house is bigger, the M.O. remains the same."
"I don't see why we have to spend the whole night there for that," Gus protested.
"Because the house is bigger, I don't know how long we'll need." Shawn pointed at one of the houses. "There, that's the one."
Gus eyed it appreciatively. There was a large steel gate closing off the driveway, painted black with gold leaves wound around the spires. Gus leaned forward to hit the intercom, and the gate started opening on its own before he could touch it. He turned to glare at Shawn. "That gate is opening on its own."
"That's cause it's automatic," Shawn said, and pointed to a security camera. "And someone's probably waiting for us."
Gus carefully drove up the driveway. The house was bigger than the Santa Barbara police station, and three stories at least. The exterior was clean grey cobblestones, with vines crawling up the sides. "This doesn't look so bad," Gus said, cheering up a little as he got out of the car. "Yeah. This place definitely isn't haunted. It's properly landscaped and everything."
Shawn followed Gus out of the car, and was about to agree when something made him look up. The fluffy white Santa Barbara standard issue clouds were growing darker by the minute, and it wasn't just a result of the lowering sun. Shawn kept an eye on Gus out of the corner of his eye, hoping he didn't notice, as he led the way up the front steps.
Gus reached out to swing the brass door knocker. It was molded to look like some kind of monster with a mustache, or possibly just someone really old. As it swung back to knock against the door, the sky opened, raining down on them in sudden torrents. Gus pulled his hand away from the knocker in disbelief.
"Okay, so that's a little weird," Shawn admitted. "But it doesn't mean anything."
The door was pulled open, a backlit figure staring down at them in distain. The man was wearing an old tuxedo, bow tie resting at his throat. He looked to be well over six feet tall, thin as a rail, and pushing a hundred at least. Shawn watched him, expecting him to intone the words 'you rang?'
Gus looked frozen in place, but Shawn supposed that was better than running away. "You must be Mr. Spencer and Mr. Guster," the man said, but it was a quiet, unassuming kind of voice, and it failed to meet Shawn's expectations.
"Yes, we are," Shawn said. "And we appear to be getting wet."
"Of course, sirs, come in," the man said, stepping out of the way. "Aldis Matheus the Seventh, at your service."
"Seventh, huh?" Shawn asked, running a hand through his hair, droplets raining down onto the tile floor of the entryway. "How does that work, exactly, you just keep naming your kids the same thing until you run out of numbers?"
"I don't have any children of my own, sir, I have dedicated my life to the Graves," he said. "I am the last Aldis Matheus."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Shawn said. "Do you mind if I call you Aldy?"
"I do, sir," Aldis said. "If you will excuse me I will find Mrs. Graves. Please wait here."
Shawn nodded vaguely as Aldis left and then started to wander off. Gus reached out to grab him. "He said to wait here, Shawn," Gus said.
"He said please, please implies suggestion," Shawn said, trying to pull away, but Gus had a death grip on him. "Dude, chill."
"You don't think any of this is at all odd?" Gus demanded. "We're having a storm, Shawn, in Santa Barbara, in August, and the butler looks like a cousin of the Addams Family."
"Don't be so melodramatic, it's nearly September, and anyway, it's just a little rain, it hardly qualifies as a storm," Shawn told him.
There was a large crash as a branch slammed into a window, rain pounding against it. "Okay, so maybe it's a little windy, too," Shawn said.
"Do you think it's raining everywhere, or just at this house?" Gus asked nervously.
"Can you even hear yourself?" Shawn asked.
"I'm so glad you're both here!"
Shawn looked up at the voice. Eveline was at the top of the stairs, carefully making her way down. Shawn noticed the way she was holding onto the rail so tight her knuckles were white. She'd traded the boots she had on earlier for a pair of black ballet flats, and he frowned as he noticed the red line across her right ankle, and the fainter, matching mark on her left.
"Please," she said, "come with me. Let's have a drink."
Eveline led them to a kind of hybrid office and library, and walked to a wet bar in the corner. "What'll you boys have?" she asked.
"We don't drink on the job," Gus said quickly. "But we'll have a couple Shirley Temples if you have some Grenadine."
"Shirley Temples?" Shawn echoed. "Seriously? When did you turn into a ten year old girl?"
"Make that two Roy Rogers instead," Gus said, before turning to Shawn. "Is that better?"
"Not significantly," Shawn said.
Eveline looked bemused, but she nodded. "Coming right up," she said. She mixed the drinks and then handed one to each of them.
Shawn bit at the straw for a minute before sucking up half the drink all at once. "This is pretty good," he admitted.
"You got that right," Gus said enthusiastically. "This is some Grade A Grenadine."
Eveline sat down in armchair, holding a whiskey for herself. "Crazy weather, isn't it?"
Gus nodded. "Does it rain . . . here . . . a lot?" he asked haltingly.
"In Santa Barbara? Not usually," she said. "At least not in the summer. Are you new here, Mr. Guster?"
"Actually he's lived here all his life," Shawn said distractedly, as he walked over to the large fireplace at the back wall. There was a portrait hanging above it of a beautiful young girl. She was giving a kind of wry half smile, a spark in her blue eyes. Her blonde hair had been curled to make her look like she was a starlet from the twenties, but the portrait was only dated 1992.
"That was Harvey's sister," Eveline told him, when she saw what had drawn his attention. "She died very young, before Harvey and I met. I don't think he ever quite got over it."
Shawn stared at the portrait, eyes narrowing. Someone had scratched a single word across the bottommost edge in very small print, from one end to the other, over and over. Holly Holly Holly Holly Holly. After a moment, he turned away.
"Her name was Holly," Shawn said.
"Yes, it was," Eveline said, seeming impressed. She leaned forward. "I would have liked to have met her, but she was very troubled. He didn't like to talk about it, but I always had the impression she had taken her own life."
"When did you meet Harvey?" Shawn asked.
"Oh, my, at least, fifteen years ago, now, I guess?" she said. "It's so hard to recall. It's so painful to think about."
"But you don't miss him, of course," Shawn said. Gus spun to glare at him, but Eveline just shrugged.
"I won't lie, Harvey was a horrible man. He cared for nothing but himself, and I was just the trophy wife. Don't be surprised," she said, noting their expressions at the blunt admission. "I have no illusions about what I was. But in my defense I was only twenty when I met him, I had no idea what I was getting in to."
"Why is it that you think Harvey would want to kill you?" Shawn asked.
"You're probably wondering how I got these bruises," she said, looking up.
"I wasn't actually, I know you fell down the stairs," Shawn said.
Eveline raised an eyebrow. "You are worth every penny, Mr. Spencer," she said. "That's very close to the truth, only I didn't fall, I was pushed. I was very disoriented right after, but I recall hearing someone whispering, someone saying I had to die too. I even felt the hand at my throat."
"And you think it was your husband?" Shawn asked.
"I know how it sounds," she said. "But I don't really feel like he's gone. I can't explain it. Things go missing, things that I get rid of reappear. My pearl earrings, they're nowhere to be found, but Harvey's cufflinks, the ones I donated to charity, they appeared back on my dresser just last week. If anyone would be capable of sticking around after death just to make my life miserable, it would be Harvey. He always told me I wouldn't ever be rid of him."
Shawn nodded. "I think we should get to work, Eveline," he said. "It's getting late, and whatever spirits may be here, they should be showing soon."
Eveline got to her feet. "What do you need me to do?" she asked. "How can I help?"
"All we need you to do is to go get some well deserved sleep," Shawn said. "We're going to take care of everything."
Eveline smiled at him tiredly. "Thank you, both of you," she said, before turning to the intercom and activating it. "Aldis? Can you please come show our guests their rooms?"
"What did I tell you?" Shawn whispered. "It's all intercoms all the time. It's like rich people haven't even heard of phones."
"Goodnight gentleman," Eveline said. "If you need anything, anything at all, Aldis and Sani are both at your disposal, as am I."
Eveline left the room to head back up the stairs, and Shawn followed her out of the room. Aldis was coming from another hall, his expressionless face aimed about three inches to the side of them at all times. "If you would please follow me," he said.
Shawn started to step forward when The Divinyls started singing 'I Touch Myself' from somewhere in the region of his pants. Gus's eyes had widened in horror, and Shawn scrambled to grab his cell phone while Aldis looked on indifferently.
"I have to take this call," Shawn said, with as much dignity as he could muster. "It sounds important." He stepped away from Aldis and Gus, heading back towards the front door. He saw the monitor that had been set up beside the door, showing the front gate. There was a car parked right outside it.
"Lassie?" Shawn said, answering the call.
"Where are you?" Lassiter demanded.
"I'm still at Eveline's," Shawn said. "But then you know that, because you're parked outside her front gate staring at Gus's car."
"Seriously, how do you do that?" Lassiter demanded.
"Give a wave," Shawn said. "I can see you on the security monitor."
Lassiter heaved a sigh. "We had plans tonight, you know," he said.
"We can meet up tomorrow. Eveline needs us here," Shawn said. "We're ghost hunting. Well, Gus is ghost hunting. Mostly I'm here for the ridiculously opulent surroundings and the endless supply of Roy Rogers."
"Why didn't you tell me you were planning this?" Lassiter demanded.
"You would have tried to stop me," Shawn said easily.
"I wouldn't have tried, I would have stopped you," Lassiter said.
"Well, then why are you surprised I didn't tell you?" Shawn asked.
"Get out of there right now, Spencer," he said. "You're the one that told me you think someone's really trying to kill her."
"Someone is," Shawn said. "Which is why Gus and I are acting as her bodyguards."
"Oh, great, so it'll end up a double homicide instead," Lassiter snapped.
"Not to get bogged down with petty details, but there's three of us," Shawn said. "Wouldn't that be a triple homicide?"
"No, Guster will probably be fine, because I expect he's going to run at the first sign of trouble," Lassiter said. "He's the only one of you with sense."
"Touché," Shawn said. "I promise I'll be careful."
"Damn it, Spencer," Lassiter said. "Why do you have to do this?"
"Well, who else is there?" Shawn asked.
"Fine," Lassiter snapped. "But you need anything, you call me, I'll be right there."
"Okay, but I really don't think you've thought this through. Your back is going to give you problems all week if you stay in that car all night."
"What? How did I was going to stay here—"
"Please, don't insult me," Shawn said. "I left some snacks for you in the glove box. Don't fill up on Red Vines."
Shawn hung up and turned back towards Gus and Aldis. Aldis remained unmoved, but Gus was definitely glaring at him. "If you are ready, sir?" Aldis said.
"Call me Shawn," he said. "This 'sir' stuff kind of freaks me out."
"Of course, sir," Aldis said, and turned to lead them up the stairs. Shawn and Gus followed him up, and Shawn examined the steps carefully. He saw a few drops of blood around the middle, and when the reached the second floor, he noticed there was a small hole on either side of the top step, like someone had set up a tripwire with a pair of tacks.
"The lights are all on motion sensors," Aldis told them, just as the hallway in front of them started lighting up one segment at a time. "They will come on and go off on their own."
"That's amazing," Gus said, waving his hand at the wall experimentally. "I can't even see them!"
"They're in the crown molding," Shawn said distractedly.
Aldis stopped halfway down the massive hallway. He pointed down the rest of the way, where Shawn could just make out a pair of huge black double doors. "That is where Mrs. Graves sleeps," he said, before pointing to the two doors on each side of the hallway where they had stopped. "These rooms will be yours. Use the intercom if you need anything."
Aldis disappeared back down the hall, the lights flickering on and off after him as he went. "Okay, I get first pick of the rooms," Gus said.
"You can have them both if you want, we're not going to be sleeping, Gus," Shawn said. "We're here to investigate."
"I can't stay up all night, Shawn," Gus protested. "I need a good six hours at least. You know I get sleepy."
"Come on, tough it out, I'll make you another Roy Rogers," Shawn said. "And hey, guess what? I was right, the murderer is someone in the house."
"How can you be sure?" Gus demanded. "We just got here."
"Because someone had a tripwire set up on the stairs, that's why Eveline fell down them," Shawn said. "Oh, oh! Dude, I think the butler did it!"
"He's like a hundred and eighty five," Gus said.
"Don't be an ageist," Shawn said.
"How could someone fall down the stairs because of a tripwire and not even notice?" Gus demanded.
"Same way someone could fall off a float in a pool and not wake up," Shawn said. "She takes Ambien when she sleeps. Hears a noise, comes to investigate, but she's not completely awake. Next thing she knows, she's on the ground at the bottom of them with someone hovering over her."
"Why wouldn't they have finished her off?" Gus demanded. "They had her alone."
"Same reason they set a tripwire on the stairs instead of pushing her," Shawn said. "So they wouldn't have to do it themselves. Someone tried to strangle her, Gus, but they couldn't do it. They probably don't even think they're murdering anyone. In their mind, they're just arranging accidents."
"So they're psychotic as well, that's good to know," Gus said stiffly. "I'll be leaving now."
Shawn waved a hand, turning on the lights in the hall behind them. "Oh, look at the pretty lights, Gus! Don't you want to go exploring in the house, and watch them come on?"
"You seriously think that's going to tempt me?" Gus demanded.
"Honestly I'm not sure what to do with you anymore," Shawn said. "I know I'm supposed to be the crazy one, but it's like you're trying to beat twenty years of my craziness all in one night. I think your chances are good, by the way."
"I'm not crazy for being nervous around a murderer, Shawn!" Gus snapped. "You're the one that's crazy for not being worried!"
"Yeah, but you think the murderer is Casper," Shawn protested.
"Everyone knows Casper was a friendly ghost," Gus said. "I'm talking about the spirit of Harvey Graves."
There was a flash of white light behind Gus, and Shawn went very still, hoping he hadn't noticed. "Was that lightening?" Gus demanded.
"It's just a faulty motion sensor, probably, don't be ridiculous," Shawn said, which was right about when the thunder started.
"I'm getting out of here, Shawn!" Gus said. "Don't you ever watch horror movies? We're expendable. Everyone knows it's only the pretty girl that lives. Eveline'll probably be just fine."
"Okay, I'll give you that the freak storm is a little weird, Gus, but it's just bad luck," Shawn said. "You know what they say about superstition, it makes an ass out of you and me."
"That's assume," Gus said. "Because it's Ass-U-Me."
"Huh," Shawn said. "That does make more sense, but regardless, I've heard it both ways!"
"You have not!" Gus protested.
"Okay, fine, but that's why I need you, Gus! You have like these whole hidden depths of trivial information. You pay attention to the stuff that I don't."
Gus seemed hesitant. "Okay, but my usual rules apply."
"No entering a room first, or last, no searching for fuse boxes and you want a weapon if I'm going to leave you alone," Shawn said. "Of course you understand that there being only two of us, you will actually have to decide whether you want to enter the room first or last, and the only weapon I have is this little green toy soldier that I found in my pocket."
Shawn held the toy soldier out. Gus eyed it dubiously for a moment and then snatched it out of Shawn's hands. "We'll alternate. You go first, then I'll go first."
"Deal," Shawn said. He looked back towards Eveline's room. "What time is it?"
"It's like nine forty five," Gus said.
"I bet the maid's still awake," Shawn said. "We need to talk with her."
"I'll find us an intercom," Gus said.
"Forget the intercom, Gus," Shawn said. "We need to see her, face to face, I need to judge her reactions to my questions, come on."
"How do you know where to go?" Gus asked him.
"What makes you think I know where I'm going?" he asked. "Our job is to snoop around. It's better this way, we might stumble on something that breaks this whole case."
"Or we could get lost never to be heard from again," Gus said.
"Because that happens so often in the wealthy suburbs of Santa Barbara," Shawn said. "People go missing in their houses all the time."
"You're the one that said it was easy to get lost!" he protested.
"Yeah, but I didn't mean to imply I got stranded in their billiard room or something," he said. "You're fine, stop obsessing. Do you have any samples of anti-anxiety meds?"
"I'm not taking drugs, Shawn," Gus snapped.
"I was going to suggest you give them to me," Shawn said. "You're kind of stressing me out." He started down the stairway. There were little blue lights at the edge of the stairs like the kind they had in movie theaters, and they came on each time they went to the next step.
"I'm telling you, this place is spooky, Shawn, I don't like it," Gus snapped.
"It isn't spooky, this is technology, come on, Gus, you love this stuff," Shawn protested. "We should totally get motion sensor lights for the office."
"Yeah, we can put them up where you had the zip line that lasted all of ten days," Gus said.
"I had to take it down, you know that. I was nearly decapitated!" Shawn said.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and the entryway lights came on by themselves. Gus grabbed Shawn's sleeve to tug him to the wall across from the stairs. "It's a map!" he said.
Shawn looked at the wall. It was a map of the house, one of those kinds that had the little red arrow that said 'you are here.' "Is this place for real?" Shawn asked. "When did we end up at Arden Fair?"
"Quiet, Shawn," Gus said. "Look for the exit!"
"I think the exit is the giant front door right there," Shawn said, pointing a few feet away. "No, what we want is the kitchen."
"I want to keep the exit in sight, Shawn!" Gus said. "And it's almost ten at night, what would she be doing in the kitchen?"
"Eveline said she was very upset about Harvey's death," Shawn said. "I doubt she'd want to be locked away alone in her room, and there's probably not that many areas in the house open to her."
"It looks like it's right down that hall. You're going first," he said, shoving Shawn in front of him.
"Okay, but that means you have to go last," Shawn said.
"Don't remind me!" he snapped. "If I die, Shawn, I'm going to haunt you, you know that, right?"
"Like Patrick Swayze in Ghost?" Shawn asked.
"Like Kathleen Mackey in Gothika," Gus said.
"That's a little obscure, I would have gone with the creepy girl from The Ring, personally," Shawn said. "You'd get more widespread recognition."
"You're the only one here," Gus said. "And you've seen Gothika like eighty times."
"Can you blame me, Gus?" Shawn said. "Halle Berry, wet. Enough said."
"You know that's right," Gus agreed. "But I didn't think Halle Berry was your type."
"Well, it's got Robert Downey Jr., too. I'm an equal opportunity ogle-er," Shawn said.
"It's down here," Gus said, grabbing Shawn to keep him in front of him like a shield. "You go first."
"I thought we were alternating?" Shawn said.
"I changed my mind!" Gus said.
Shawn rolled his eyes and pushed his way into the kitchen. The lights inside were already on, and Shawn scanned the room. There were bowls of chocolate pudding covering almost every surface, and a young woman in her early twenties was sitting cross-legged on the only empty space left on the counter, stirring like mad. She looked up when they walked in, and her eyes were a little wild.
Shawn pulled to a stop, and Gus slammed into his back. "Sani, right?" Shawn said cautiously. "Shawn Spencer. This is my partner Winston Zeddmore. Eveline called us in to help."
Sani had her long brown hair pulled back in a bun, but most of it had come loose to fall around her face, and she had cocoa powder down the front of her dress and in a streak across her forehead. "Oh, hi!" she said, smiling brightly. "Yes, I'm Sani. Do you want some pudding?"
Shawn glanced around. "Are you sure there's enough?" he asked wryly.
"Oh, plenty! I can't stop making it, I've been making it since three o'clock," she said. "It makes me feel better. Please, sit down!"
Gus and Shawn sat down at the barstools at the counter, and Sani went to the cupboard to pull down two bowls. She dished them up the chocolate pudding before climbing back up to sit on the counter. "I'm glad you're here," she said. "You're some kind of psychic, right? I think I read about you in the papers, except I thought your partner was named Bruton Gaster?"
"It's Burton Guster," Gus said quickly.
"Oh, well, what happened to him?" she asked.
"We don't like to talk about that," Shawn told her, before Gus could intercede. "It's just me and Winston here now."
"So what are you here to do exactly?" Sani asked.
"We're looking into Harvey's death, as well as the attempts on Eveline's life," Shawn said. "Would you mind answering a few questions for us?"
"Sure," she said. "I'm grateful the company, actually." She pulled the wooden spoon from the bowl and absentmindedly started licking the pudding off. Gus made a face and pushed his own bowl away from him.
Shawn brought a hand to his head. "I'm sensing a deep connection between you and Harvey," he said. "He and his wife have separate rooms, I can see you going into his room late at night—"
"I brought him tea sometimes," Sani said, leaning forward. "Is that what you see?"
"No, not exactly," Shawn said, his train of thought derailing. "You were…yes, I see it now! You were sleeping with him."
"Ew, gross," she said, pushing away from him. "He was like seventy-five."
"He was fifty-one," Gus said.
"Well, that's kind of the same thing, isn't it?" she asked. "I wouldn't ever have slept with him. Not for a million dollars."
"But Eveline told us how upset you were," Shawn protested.
Sani froze, her hand tightly gripping the spoon. "I'd never found a dead body before, that's all, no one likes to see a dead body."
"She's got a point there," Gus said.
"But that's not what it was," Shawn said. "You're hiding something."
"I saw her," Sani said after a moment. "I saw her standing over the body."
"Eveline?" Gus asked, getting to his feet.
Sani shook her head. "No, the ghost," Sani said. "She haunts this place. She wants to kill us all."
"I thought Harvey Graves was the ghost?" Shawn asked.
"That's what Mrs. Graves says, but she's wrong," Sani said. "This ghost has been here since I started working here, but they wouldn't ever believe me. Mr. Graves was the first victim, that's all. I saw her with my own eyes."
"Why didn't you tell anyone this?" Gus asked. "If you saw the murderer—"
"But I didn't, Mr. Zeddmore, what I saw was a ghost, that's the whole problem," Sani said. "She was standing there looking down at the body, but it was dark, she was wearing this torn white dress. I looked away for a second and when I looked back she was gone. It wasn't the first time I saw her, you understand. I've seen her before. This is a mad place. I'm leaving as soon as I find somewhere else."
Shawn got to his feet with a frown. "Well thank you for your help, Sani," he said. "If we have any more questions—"
"You know where to find me," she said. "I'm going to start making some butterscotch pudding now. I don't have enough of that."
"Right. Well, you have fun with that," Shawn said, before tugging Gus back out into the hall.
Gus looked disturbed. "Do I sound like that?" he asked. "I mean, I don't act like that right?"
"Not at all," Shawn said easily. "She's handling things much better than you."
Gus glared at him. "You can joke, but I think you owe me an apology, don't you?"
"For what?" Shawn asked.
"It is a ghost, after all," Gus said.
"That's all you took away from that conversation?" Shawn asked. "All this does is take Sani off my suspects list. So it's back to the butler. Yes. The butler did it."
"Stop saying that," Gus said. "You just like saying 'the butler did it.' You haven't got any evidence."
"Since when have I needed evidence to leap to a conclusion?" Shawn demanded.
"I think you should think real hard about what she told us, because if she's right we could be dealing with more than one ghost. This is like a supernatural epicenter," Gus said. "Oh my god, maybe we're on a Hellmouth!"
"That's it, I'm changing the parental controls on your television," Shawn said. "You're no longer allowed to watch anything but cartoons. Wait. Scratch that. I wouldn't want you to start drawing tunnels on walls and then running into them. Let's just cut out the TV altogether."
"You need to take this seriously, Shawn," Gus snapped.
"You're the one comparing our situation to that of the residents of Sunnydale, and I'm not taking this seriously?" Shawn asked. Gus opened his mouth to protest, and Shawn's phone started ringing again, blaring out when I feel down, I want you above me—
Gus grabbed Shawn's phone before he could answer it and looked down at the caller ID. "Lassiter? This is the ringtone you have for Lassiter?"
"Well, it was hardly going to be Henry, was it?" Shawn demanded, trying to grab his phone back. "This could be important, Gus! Lassie's outside watching the place."
"Lassiter's here?" Gus demanded. "What the hell, Shawn, what happened to all that, we're partners, Gus, it's you and me, Gus?"
"Nothing has changed, it's just us in here, just like old times," Shawn said.
"No, it's not," Gus snapped. "And I can't believe you made your Lassiter ringtone I Touch Myself. Could you be more obvious? And you thought your dad wasn't going to find out?"
"But I've had this ringtone for Lassie for months!" Shawn protested. "You're the only one that thinks there's some hidden meaning to it."
"The meaning's not exactly hidden," Gus snapped. "That's my whole point."
"Okay, come on then," Shawn said. "Let's have this out."
"Have what out?" Gus demanded.
"You've been acting strangely since I told you Lassie and I were together," Shawn snapped.
"This has nothing to do with that, I always act strangely," Gus protested hotly. Gus and Shawn both paused as they replayed what he had said. "That's not what I meant."
"I know you, Gus, and you've always been the one that's in a relationship," Shawn said. "It's always been me that ends up the third wheel. And you can't stand it the other way around, can you?"
"Shawn—"
"You know what, whatever, stay here, get your six hours of sleep, I don't care," Shawn said, grabbing his phone from him. He glanced down at it, but Lassiter had given up and the screen announced one missed call. "I'm going to go investigate a murder."
"Shawn!" Gus snapped, but Shawn ignored him and started down the hall.
He thought about calling Lassiter back, but he wanted a moment to clear his head. He looked behind him, but Gus hadn't followed him. Gus had probably taken this as an opportunity to get in his car and leave Shawn here. Shawn didn't know if he'd blame for that or not.
The lights kept coming on as he went down the hall, but the ones behind him kept going back out. There were portraits framed on the walls of both sides, old paintings of people that all had the last name of Graves. Shawn thought it strange that so far he hadn't come across a single door.
He bit his lip, and closed his eyes, picturing the map of the house that Gus had found in his mind. He overlaid what he knew of the house over the map, and realized that this hall wasn't on it.
One of the lights snapped on in the hall about twenty feet down from him, and Shawn squinted down to see what had set it off. A woman in a torn white dress was standing there half lit, blonde hair loose and falling down to cover most of her face.
Shawn swallowed and then stepped forward cautiously. "Hello?" he said quietly. She turned the corner the moment he spoke, and Shawn took off running after her. "Hey, wait!"
Before Shawn could reach her the light snapped back off. He turned the corner to follow her, but that whole hallway was dark and he couldn't make anything out. He kept running after her anyway, and he was halfway down the hall when he realized it was pitch black—none of the motion sensor lights had activated in this hallway, and the ones he'd left behind had gone out.
Shawn leaned down with his hands on his knees to catch his breath, and then cautiously started heading back. He felt his way along the hall, and pulled out his cellphone, using the light from the display screen to light the way. Then he dialed Lassiter.
"Shawn, where the hell are you?" Lassiter yelled. "I've been trying to call you."
"Yeah, sorry about that," Shawn said. "Gus and I were fighting."
"Where are you? What's going on?" Lassiter asked.
"Nothing, nothing, I'm fine," Shawn said. "Lassiter, I need to know how Harvey's sister died."
"Harvey Graves didn't have a sister," Lassiter said.
"Holly Graves," Shawn said. "You don't find anything on a Holly? A death? It would have been about fifteen years ago."
"Sorry, Shawn, no," Lassiter said. "I went through this guy's whole life. He was definitely an only child. Why do you ask?"
"Because I just saw her," Shawn said dazedly, dropping his hand with the phone down at his side as he ended the call.
