Much to Gus's relieved amazement, the night passed without any major incidents. The first sign that Shawn was up to something came shortly after they arrived at FBI headquarters.

In response to Don's question of if they were interested in accompanying the agents to bring Monroe in for questioning, Shawn offered a grin. "Actually, Gus and I managed to find a great smoothie place down the road. We'll be back a little later." He shrugged. "Since the spirits are being a little withholding right now, I wouldn't want to be in your way any more than necessary. I'll be sure to let you know if I come up with anything."

Charlie looked visibly relieved as he gave the two consultants a friendly smile. "Well, I guess we'll catch up with you later then."

"All right." Don's expression told Shawn he suspected something might be up. The agent didn't say anything, however, but simply nodded.

"We'll meet you guys back here after lunch," Shawn told them.

Gus turned to Shawn as soon as the elevator doors closed. "Shawn, what are you doing? We can't just bail on a case like this!"

"But we're not, Gus," Shawn said. "We're going to hunt down some clues on our own, just like when we work a case back home. After we get smoothies at that place down the road, of course."

"You mean like when we go off by ourselves, nearly get killed, and get Lassiter ticked at us?"

"No, I mean when we solve the case on our own and call in the cavalry at the last minute to make the arrest."

Gus shook his head as the elevator doors opened, and the two made their way out to the car. "Do you have a plan, or are we just going to run around the city until we find something interesting?"

"As much as that second option sounds like fun, I actually do have what might be a lead."

"And why couldn't you share it with Don?" Gus asked, unlocking the car.

Shawn opened the passenger door and climbed in. "I'm not sure if this will even turn up anything. I didn't want to take up his time if it wasn't going to be more than a hunch."

"And are you planning to share this hunch with me?" Gus asked expectantly.

Shawn appeared to be thinking it over.

"Shawn!"

"Gus, don't be an overdone turkey on Thanksgiving Day. We're going to Roger York's current construction site to ask him a few questions." Shawn pointed ahead. "Take a right here."

Gus raised an eyebrow but took the turn. "And you know where this site is how?"

"The internet is a wonderful place, Gus, full of amazing and sometimes worthless facts. A lot like your head. Left here."

wmwmw

Meanwhile, the agents had brought Thomas Monroe down to the office for questioning. The man was even surlier than when David, Colby, and Shawn had questioned him in his home the day before. He was sitting with his arms crossed, glowering at Don and Nikki.

"Is there a reason I'm down here or what? I don't remember being told I was a person of interest or whatever you call it."

"We just have a few questions for you, Mr. Monroe. It shouldn't take very long," Don told him, "if you cooperate."

"Fine. What do you want?"

"How well do you know James York?" Nikki inquired.

"The guy who owns the hotel? Not all that well. Why?"

"Just curious." Don told him, giving him a prompting look.

"Well, I know of him. Just don't know him."

"And you work for his brother?" Don continued, studying a file in his hands. "At least according to your tax forms."

"Yeah, I'm a personnel manager for Roger's construction company. What of it?"

"So you are aware that most of his employees are ex-cons?"

"So?" Monroe narrowed his eyes at Nikki's question. "Not all ex-cons are bad guys. Look, James would send various felons to work for Roger's company once they got out of jail. They needed good employment to keep them from going back, and Roger didn't mind because they're hard workers." He sat back in his chair. "Can I go now?"

wmwmw

Within an hour, Shawn and Gus were pulling up beside the trailer that served as the office for Roger York Construction's current project.

"Because Gus," Shawn was saying as they exited the vehicle, "I don't think Monroe is as completely involved in the bombing as it might look at head value."

"Face value," Gus corrected. "And I don't even think that expression works in the way you're trying to use it."

Shawn shrugged. "I've heard it both ways. But, either way, let's see what Mr. Roger York has to say."

They climbed the couple of steps and Shawn cracked open the door, rapping on it as he did so.

The two men bent over the set of blueprints on the desk in the center of the room turned as Shawn and Gus entered.

"Can I help you?" The man who had asked the question was a dark-haired version of James York, minus the glasses.

"Yes, you can," Shawn answered, giving both men his best smile. "I'm Shawn Spencer and this is my partner, House Jackbuilt. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your brother's hotel."

Roger nodded then turned to the other man. "Will you excuse us for a few moments, Rick? I'll be out soon."

After Rick had exited the trailer, Roger gave Shawn and Gus a polite smile. "I can't believe it about the bombing. Are you two with the police?"

"FBI, actually," Shawn offered. "That's the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"I know what FBI stands for," Roger told him, sitting back on the edge of the desk. "What can I do for you gentlemen?"

"I just was wondering where you were at the time of the bombing," Shawn said curiously. "The site looks busy; were you working here?"

"No, I wasn't," Roger shook his head. "I was having lunch. With my brother, actually. That's how I first heard about it."

Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? That's interesting. So you two are really buddy-buddy then, are you?"

"Something like that." Shawn couldn't help but notice the brief shadow that crossed the man's face as he answered. "Now are you two done? I've got a job to get back to."

"Of course. Thank you for your time," Gus told him.

"Something's going on with him," Shawn whispered as he followed his friend out the trailer door. "I don't think he and James have as perfect a relationship as he made it sound." He stepped aside to allow an attractive young woman to pass them on the gravel path to the parking lot. "Hi there."

"Hi," she replied, returning his smile. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Yes you can. Ow!" Shawn glared at Gus as his friend's elbow found his ribs. "I'm Shawn. Are you Roger York's assistant by any chance?"

"Wanda. And I'm just helping out," she told him, "Roger's my uncle, and sometimes he asks me to run errands and stuff, like getting lunch." She waved the paper bag in her hands.

"Ah, right," Shawn nodded. "Say, let me ask you. Your uncle, do you know if he gets along with everyone? Like his brother, for instance?"

"Which one?" she asked.

Shawn blinked. "Um … any of them?"

The girl laughed. "Well, he only has two; my father and their brother, James. And he gets along fine with Dad. Uncle James though … They have their differences. Like, Uncle Roger was going to build Uncle James' hotel when it went up, but then I think several of his investment buddies recommended he use another outfit, which really made Uncle Roger mad."

"Really?" Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Do they fight much?"

Wanda paused and frowned at him. "Why the interest in my family?"

"We're reporters," Gus spoke up.

Shawn blinked. "Okay, yeah. Anyway, do you know how their relationship is?"

"I … really need to get this food in before it gets cold," Wanda told him. "I'm sorry. Have a good day." She turned and hurried up the steps to the trailer.

"Reporters? Really buddy?" Shawn asked as they started towards the car again.

"Why not?" Gus defended himself.

"How many people do you know would want to talk about their family to a reporter?"

"I didn't see you offering anything better." Gus unlocked the doors. "Now where is your hunch taking us? And am I going to be allowed to know what it is, seeing as how I'm doing all the driving?"

wmwmw

The agents were again in the interrogation room, this time with Philip Knowles, the owner of one of the local construction companies that had almost obtained James York's contract, in for questioning. Knowles was a short, balding, red-haired man in his late forties whose waistline appeared to have seen one too many donuts in its day. Certainly not the image one would imagine when they heard construction company owner.

Knowles was slouched in one of the chairs in the interrogation room when Don walked in. He looked up with a sullen expression.

"How long's this gonna take? I got a job to get back to."

Don settled into the chair on the opposite side of the table and set a manila folder in front of him before addressing the other man. "We just have a few questions for you regarding the recent bombing of the Snow Cap Hotel."

"Huh," Knowles snorted. "You think I did that?"

"No one's accusing you of anything yet," Don opened the folder. Pulling out several photos, he placed them in front of Knowles. "This is what the hotel looked like after this man," he put Armstrong's mugshot on the table, "set off a bomb inside."

Knowles jerked his shoulder in a shrug. "I dunno who that guy is. And I didn't have nothin' to do with no bombs. Why would I do that?"

"You tell me," Don replied, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest.

"Look, I don't know. I was real mad at first about York taking the job away from the locals, but then I decided I didn't care. Yeah, he was an idiot who probably deserved what happened to his place, but I wouldn't wanna do anything to him. Ya think I'd wanna make myself a suspect? I know how these investigation things work. 'Sides, what'd it do for me? York probably'll just bring in another cheap out group to rebuild the thing."

"Mr. Knowles, have you ever met this man before?" Don asked, gesturing to Armstrong's photo.

Knowles glanced down. "Nope. Are we done? Time is money, especially in my business."

"Thank you for your time," Don replied, standing. "You're free to go; we'll let you know if we have any further questions."