A/N: I was definitely not expecting to get a new chapter up so soon. I feel like I'm spoiling you folks--I swear I'm not normally this productive. Enjoy! Tell me what you think!

Shawn and Gus sat on the museum's steps licking popsicles and watching the organized chaos of the police department slowly engulf them.

"This seems like overkill. The painting Dante took isn't even by a well-known artist," Gus said as he noticed yet another squad car pull up.

"The painting was called Three Flags. Does that mean anything to you?" Shawn asked, thinking about the information card that had been hidden beneath Dante's fake.

"I don't think so. I'd never even heard of the artist before," Gus replied. "It was a recent work, too."

The information card for the stolen painting had said it was by an artist called Sidney Roma, born 1970, with the work (done with oil paint) having been completed in 2002. While Shawn may not have been an art connoisseur, he was confident that had this been a significant artist, he would know. Or at least Gus would.

"Dante isn't Dante's real name, right?" Shawn asked as the wheels in his slowly began to turn. He was blaming brain freeze on their inability to fire up quickly.

Gus looked over at him. "It could be. Dante is just the pseudonym he goes by. Why?"

"Is it possible Dante could be Sidney Roma?"

Gus seemed to consider for a moment. "It's possible, but it's not likely. Why would Dante steal his own work?"

"I don't know, it could be like an art thing?"

Gus's jaw dropped. "That's brilliant. Replacing his work with his own work? If that's what happened, it could turn the art world upside down."

"Dude, the 'art world'? Who are you?"

Turning away from Shawn, Gus raised his chin haughtily. "I go to First Friday events at galleries around the city, Shawn. I talk to a lot of people in the arts."

"You talk to the doctors that go to these gallery openings, don't you?"

Gus looked annoyed and it was evident Shawn had figured him out entirely. "Maybe doctors happen to be there, but a lot of affluent people from the community go to events like that."

"And since you're not an affluent member of the community, nor have you ever told me about going out with a woman who was even vaguely artistic, I'm guessing galleries are a good place to move product?"

Gus didn't answer.

Shawn smirked and bit off the last part of the popsicle, tossing the stick into the bushes behind him. "That's what I thought."

A familiar red Crown Victoria pulled up to the front of the museum. Both Lassiter and Juliet stepped out of the car. Shawn was curious as to how Lassiter had escaped the museum long enough ago to have been able to pick up Juliet and come back.

"Back so soon?" Shawn called out, standing as the two detectives approached. Lassiter ignored him. Or maybe he just hadn't heard him. Shawn was beginning to suspect the detective was becoming a little too good at tuning him out.

"Shawn, why are you here?" Juliet asked, taking off her sunglasses.

Shawn looked over at Lassiter whose face showed a look of casual indifference. He needed to be riled up. "Lassie didn't tell you? He took me on a date here earlier before he ditched me to do the whole detective thing. We spent a long time appreciating Roman sculpture." Shawn watched Lassiter carefully, trying to see how far he could push. "That Augustus Caesar? Kind of a dreamboat."

Juliet looked over at her partner. Lassiter, to his credit, only had the generalized look of annoyance on his face instead of a more specific one related to actually having run into Shawn earlier in the day at the museum.

"This is a crime scene now, Spencer. The museum's closed," Lassiter finally said, with only a sliver of the acerbic tone he usually addressed Shawn with. "So it's time for you to scoot."

"Scoot? Lassie, I have no scooter with which to scoot. Plus, Gus and I aren't actually in the museum so the fact that it's closed isn't really a big deal."

"Spencer, don't make me arrest you for trespassing." With that simple empty threat, Lassiter jogged up the stairs and briskly entered the museum.

"Dude, what's up with Lassie? Usually we have a great verbal ping pong match like Forrest Gump and that Chinese guy, but that was pretty lackluster," Shawn asked, looking over at Juliet.

"Well, Lassiter was called in on his day off. Apparently the mayor is good friends with the museum director which is why we've got so much manpower on this."

Shawn refrained from making a joke about the fact that she'd just used the word manpower (really, he got a lot of guff for the things that came out of his mouth, but if only they knew how much he didn't say out loud) and considered. "Well, you know Gus and I are always willing to offer our services--"

"And you know I'm not authorized to hire you to consult," Juliet smirked. "But I might mention it to the chief."

Shawn watched as Juliet hurried up the stairs and into the museum. He turned back to Gus, who was holding onto his popsicle stick. "Why haven't you tossed that? There's no joke on it."

"I'm not going to litter, Shawn," Gus replied.

"Gus, it's made from wood. From the wood of the popsicle stick tree. What's more natural than that?"

Gus merely shook his head with an exasperated sigh. "There's no such thing as a popsicle stick tree."

"Not with that attitude there's not." Shawn stood up and stretched his arms. "We need to go figure out who this Dante person is. And I think finding Sidney Roma might be the place to start."

Shawn pulled his iphone out of his back pocket and pulled up the browser. Doing a quick search for Sidney Roma brought up the gallery that represented the artist as being the Anapamu Gallery. "You know where the Anapamu Gallery is Gus?"

"Yeah, it's where I got Dr. Klein to--I mean, I went to an event there a few weeks ago."

"Then let's go check it out," Shawn replied, taking off before he'd completed the sentence.

----

"Is anything else missing from the museum?" Lassiter asked as Juliet dutifully took down notes.

The museum's director, Frederick Hofstein, was a short man, rather stocky, but impeccably dressed in a tweed jacket and a cravat. He didn't look remarkably upset about the fact that an item was missing from his museum and that piqued Lassiter's interest.

"We haven't been able to take inventory of the exhibition galleries yet, but as far as I know only the Roma work is missing," the director replied, his voice unwavering.

"How valuable was the work that was stolen?" Lassiter asked, glancing around the room where the painting had been taken. All of the work in the room was by artists that were still producing work, with none of the pieces being particularly old or even noteworthy.

"I imagine less valuable that what it was replaced with. I've spoken with a few other directors of major museums on the West Coast and all of them have been hoping for a Dante original," Hofstein said, almost looking giddy about the fact that his museum had been graced with one of the street artist's "fake" pieces. "It's rather quite a deal--Dante's work is in such high demand, but you can't just purchase it from the artist. We're rather honored he chose to grace us with his work here."

Lassiter shook his head. "So the fact that a piece that you used museum funds to acquire is missing doesn't matter to you?"

Juliet glanced up at the director who, to his credit, was now attempting to maintain his collected demeanor.

"No, no, of course I'm upset that there was a breach in security that allowed this painting to be taken," the director replied hurriedly. "It's just that, well, this is a real coup de grace for this museum, detective. You can't fault me for appreciating the work we've been gifted."

Lassiter let the director see that he found the sentiment acceptable, but there was still something off about Hofstein not being more concerned about the missing work. Especially considering how many officers were currently going through the museum and interviewing staff. This was a huge waste of department resources for a man who was rather indifferent about the crime. And the perfect example of waste and bureaucracy from the Mayor's office.

"Thank you, Mr. Hofstein, we'll be in touch," Lassiter replied, shaking the director's hand. He led Juliet away, but watched the director out of the corner of his eye.

"Why are we here if this doesn't matter to him?" she asked her partner, obviously just as perturbed as he was.

"I think we need to figure out why exactly it doesn't matter to him. I don't buy it for a second that he'd trade a piece from his collection for this Dante work, regardless of the notoriety it'll bring the museum."

"You think something else is going on here?"

Lassiter nodded. "I think he had something to do with this."

----

As Shawn and Gus entered the Anapamu gallery, Shawn knew immediately he was out of his element as he saw the stark white and the modern angles and curves of the architecture. The receptionist sat at a plain desk metal desk. She wore all black, her short haircut accentuating the sharp angles of her face.

"Can I help you?" she asked, glancing over the two of them with a look that read you don't fit in here.

"Hi, I'm Shawn Spencer and this is my associate Wilhelm Chauncy," Shawn said, grinning widely. "I'm a psychic art dealer."

The look on her face showed only slight surprise. "Psychic art dealer?"

"Yes, I have a knack for picking out the next big artist. Wilhelm, why don't you tell her about the last guy I discovered."

Gus stepped forward and cleared his throat. "The last artist he discovered just won the Painting Prize at the Venice Biennale."

This information did surprise her. "That's rather impressive. Are you here because you're interested in one of our artists?"

Shawn nodded. "Absolutely. I'm absolutely enamored with Sidney Roma, who I believe is one of the artists your gallery represents?"

The receptionist's face fell. "Sidney Roma? We haven't exhibited her work here in three years."

Shawn wasn't expecting that answer. "Oh. Um. Do you know how we might be able to get in touch with Ms. Roma?"

"Let me check the database to see how current our contact information for her is." She turned towards the computer on her desk and swiftly began typing on the keyboard, a rhythmic clacking to her frenetic typing pace. "We do still represent her, but the only contact information we have for her is the studio where she works."

Shawn turned to Gus. "Would you mind writing that information down for us? This could be one of the greatest discoveries for the art world since Carlos Dali."

"You mean Salvador Dalí?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. She scribbled the information down on a sheet of paper and handed it to him.

"I've heard it both ways," Shawn replied, taking the address from her. "Thank you very much for your time."

Looking over the address as they exited the gallery, Shawn turned to Gus. "Well, the studio's on State Street, so it's actually not too far away from here."

"What makes you think Sidney Roma will even be there? It's a Saturday. Even artists have weekends, Shawn."

Shawn shrugged. "I mean, it's worth a try, right?"

The two men headed towards State Street, not bothering to get back in the car since it wasn't too far away from where they were. Shawn made them stop for churros from a street vendor, which slowed their pace slightly, but it wasn't long before they arrived at the converted factory space which apparently served as artist studios for a larger collective.

There was a buzzer on the door with a directory of the people who had space in the building by last name. Shawn rang Roma's buzzer, but just as Gus had predicted, there was no answer.

"See Shawn? Maybe we should come back on Monday."

"There's got to be some other way in here. Factories don't just have one door. And this door wouldn't even be big enough for larger works to be brought out."

"We are not breaking into this building, Shawn."

"Gus, don't be the unsatisfying series finale to the hit NBC show Night Court," Shawn smirked, heading off to check out the back of the building. Gus followed him, reluctantly.

Around the back was a larger service entrance, which was open and led to a larger storage facility. There were large doors towards the back, which Shawn noticed were slightly ajar. "Yahtzee."

They quickly ran into the building, hoping not to attract any attention from anyone who might be working that day.

"Roma's studio is on the first floor. Number 8, it looks like," Shawn told Gus as he looked at the address he'd been given.

Towards the end of the hallway they saw a door that was opened slightly. As they approached, Shawn noticed that the open studio was in fact the one he had listed. He pushed back the door slightly, entering the space.

"Hello? Sidney Roma?" Shawn asked, looking around at the large space. It was full of not only canvases of all sizes, but also tons of different varieties of paints, scrap pieces of metal and wood, bits of junk, old bikes and electronics.

"Shawn, there's paint all over the floor, if you get it on your shoes, you're not allowed back in my car," Gus warned, stepping carefully onto the stained drop cloth.

Shawn looked down at the floor. His face fell as he realized what it was. "Gus, that's not paint."

"I don't care what it is, if you get it in my car, you're paying to have my rugs shampooed."

Then Shawn saw another thing he wasn't expecting. Poking out from behind one of the larger piles of junk was a limp, pale arm. "That's blood."

tbc