Chapter 6 – A clue, a clue, my kingdom for a clue

"I don't know who the shooter is", Henry said and resumed his pacing. "I don't even know if Eric heard right. But if the shooter really said that he's going to report in a 496, then I guarantee you that he's a cop. Or that he was a cop once."

Shawn bit his lip. "But even that doesn't help us find out who he is."

"No. But it also means that you were right. Taking Eric to the police right now might not be the wisest choice. Nut until we know for sure that the shooter isn't a cop."

With a sigh, Shawn let himself fall backwards into an armchair. "Great. If only I knew what to do now."

"You've gone through the file already?"

"No, Juliet only dropped it off this morning, right before we left. And I need to convince the police that there was a second man in that warehouse. I just don't know how, not really."

Henry sighed. "It would be far easier if you didn't have to fake a psychic episode with every new clue you uncover."

"Not now, Dad. Let's not have this discussion now." As he looked up, his eyes fell onto the discarded plastic bag on the floor. It was just the opportunity he needed to change the topic. "Oh, but I forgot. I need to put Eric's clothes in the washer."

He got up from the armchair and reached for the plastic bag which he had dropped earlier. Henry took it out of his hand. "Let me do that. You better get back to Eric, I don't get the feeling he's particularly comfortable around Gus or me."

Henry left for the washing machine, and Shawn went back into the kitchen. Gus and Eric were sitting at the kitchen table, with Gus looking at Eric and Eric staring at the wall. It was obvious that Gus wanted to make conversation, but that Eric wasn't particularly keen on it.

"Hey guys", Shawn said as he sank down into one of the free kitchen chairs. "Seems you're having one hell of a party here."

Gus turned a glare on Shawn. "Yes, we're that close to dancing on the tables. You two finished discussing things in private?"

"Come on, Gus, don't be a half-baked donut here. It's not my fault that people keep dragging me in the living room today. So, what's the plan?"

"You're asking me that?"

"Well, I thought you were participating here. Anyway. We need to figure out a plan how to make the police search for the real shooter. Problem is, we don't know who he is."

"So what did your father want to talk to you about?", Eric asked, his voice very low.

Shawn looked at him for a moment, then decided that he couldn't risk the little bit of trust he had established with the boy with dishonesty now.

"My Dad thinks that if you heard right about those numbers, the shooter could be a cop. To him it sounded like a police code."

That haunted expression Shawn knew so well was back on Eric's face. "And how does your father know that?", he asked sceptically.

"He was a cop once."

Eric shrank back a little. "Is there anybody you know who isn't a cop?"

Shawn pointed towards Gus. "Gus. He's the first who comes to mind. If you give me a minute, I'll surely come up with somebody else." Seeing that Eric didn't catch up on the joke, Shawn sighed and leaned towards the boy a little. "I know that right now you're scared of the police. But I promise that you don't need to be scared of my Dad. He's no longer a cop, and by now he has realised that it's not in your best interest to hand you over to the police. So there's nothing you need to worry about, all right?"

Eric shrugged. Shawn really needed to start a research on those shrugs, he was sure that it was a form of wordless conversation which he didn't fully understand. He did shrug a lot himself, but to him those shrugs were always self-explanatory. Eric's shrugs, however, always seemed like the were conveying a hidden meaning he just kept missing.

"So what are you going to do now?"

"Gus and I will need to go to the police station if we want to give them a shove in the right direction. Also, maybe they've found out something else about the victim. Will you be all right if we leave you here with my Dad for a while?"

Eric nodded, though his face clearly said that he wasn't. Shawn hadn't thought that this would be so difficult. "He's all right, you know? And if he goes on your nerves, just ask him about fishing. He's going to drone on and on about it for hours, and he won't even notice if you're no longer listening."

That brought a small smile to Eric's face.

"Right kiddo. My Dad has my cell number, so if anything is wrong, just call. But not if he won't stop talking about fishing, that you'll have to deal with on your own."

He got up from his chair just as Henry came into the kitchen. "You're leaving?"

Shawn nodded. "Yes. Short stop at the office, then to the police station. But we shouldn't be too long. I told Eric that he's supposed to call me if anything comes up."

Henry nodded. "All right. We'll find a way to keep ourselves occupied. Just don't stay out too long."

"Sure Dad. Come on Gus, we need to get going. I'll see you later, Eric."

"Bye."

Shawn and Gus vanished out of the house, and suddenly Henry found himself alone with an eleven year old boy who had absolutely no desire to be here. He sighed. This was going to get interesting.

"Did Shawn give you anything to eat?"

"Yeah. I had breakfast. And he made dinner last night."

Henry chuckled. "Let me guess. Frozen dinner fresh out of the microwave?"

Eric shrugged. "It was all right."
"I'm sure it was. However, how about I make something real for lunch? We need to kill some time until those two come back, anyway, and I've just put your clothes into the washing machine."

"Okay."

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"Do you think the kid will be all right with your Dad?"

Shawn interrupted his perusal of the case file for a moment and looked across the office at his friend. "Gus, it took that man ten years to make me run away. And he saw me every day. I really don't think he's going to beat that record on Eric today. He'd better not, otherwise he'll never get to baby-sit his grandchildren."

"What grandchildren?"

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Believe it or not, I plan on sharing the genetic disposition for this awesome hair some day."

Gus had the decency not to look too shocked at that statement. "Yes, whatever you say. So, find anything in that file?"

Shawn shook his head. "Not really. Jules was right, forensics didn't find anything that would hint at a third person being in the warehouse that night. I only hope Vick's either in a good mood or desperate for development on the case, because I don't see my next vision being really specific. But maybe they've found out something more about Griggs by now. If he's dirty somehow, that might play in our favour."

Shawn's cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his jeans pocket and answered.

"Hello?"

"Spencer, where are you?"

"Lassie! Now that's a pleasant surprise! How are you doing this morning?"

"Cut the crap, Spencer." Lassiter's voice was pure venom. "Be down at the station in ten minutes, or I'll personally put a BOLO out on you."

And he hung up. With a frown, Shawn looked at the phone for a moment, then he put it back in his pocket.

"What is it?", Gus asked.

"That was Lassiter. He sounded pretty miffed, even for Lassie's standards. We shall come down to the station immediately."

"Well, we wanted to go down there, anyway."

Shawn got up and followed Gus out of the office, but the frown didn't vanish from his face. Something about that phone call had been…off. Even for Lassie's standards.

They reached the station roughly ten minutes later, and Shawn couldn't help his bad feeling increasing as they entered the building and made their way through to the offices. Halfway towards Chief Vick's office, suddenly Shawn was grabbed by the arm and pulled roughly to the side.

"This way, Spencer!"

Shawn barely had the time to register that it was Lassiter who was dragging him along, then already he found himself pushed roughly into the chair in front of Lassiter's desk, the head detective towering above him.

"Lassie, not so rough. I bruise easily, you know?"

"Where is he?"

The leaden feeling settled more firmly in Shawn's stomach. "Where is who? Gus? Because he was right behind me, but then you dragged me off. Maybe we should go look for him, he gets lost so easily."

Lassiter put both his hands on the leans of Shawn's chair and got so close to Shawn that their noses nearly touched. "This is not the time for your stupid jokes, Spencer. Where is the boy?"

Shawn shook his head. How on earth could Lassiter know that Shawn knew Eric's whereabouts?

Shawn stared Lassiter down until the detective withdrew his hands and brought some distance between himself and Shawn.

"Where is Eric Robertson?"

"What makes you think I know?"

"Because", Lassiter sneered, "one of your neighbours saw you leaving the house this morning, together with a young boy. The neighbour goes into her apartment, unpacks the newspaper she just bought and can you imagine it? There on the front page is the face of the boy she just saw leaving the house together with you, a few minutes ago. Busted, Spencer. And now tell me where he is."

Shawn leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Are you accusing me of hiding away a material witness, Lassie?"

"Yes, that I am."

If Lassiter clenched his jaw just a little tighter, something would break, that Shawn was sure of.

"Listen, I obviously don't have that kid hidden away in my pockets. He's not in the car, and because I know that you don't believe me, why don't you go and check the office and my apartment. I am not hiding that kid, all right?"

Lassiter rolled his eyes. "Oh, cut the crap, Spencer."

"What do you want?" Shawn threw his hands out in mock exasperation. "I'm offering you to search the places I normally spend most of my time because I know that with just the statement of an elderly woman who never wears her glasses you'll never get a warrant. And still that isn't enough for you? What am I supposed to do?"

"You could have brought him anywhere. What about your father's place?"

At that, Shawn laughed out loud. "Come on, Lassie. Please tell me that you don't have that head merely to show off your strong Irish hairline. Which by the way, I think you're pulling off just great. But honestly, if I was hiding away a witness the police is searching for, do you honestly think that my Dad would baby-sit him while I'm here? You know my father, Lassie. He'd probably come out of retirement just to arrest me himself for that. And please tell me what reason I should have for hiding away a witness?"

Lassiter's mouth was drawn into a tight line. He stared at Shawn for a few moments, then he abruptly turned around and stormed away from his desk and over towards the break room. Shawn sank back in his chair with a sigh.

"What was that all about?", Gus asked as he stepped up beside Shawn. Shawn got up from the chair and looked at his friend.

"La mierda ha golpeado el ventilador."

Gus looked absolutely flabbergasted. "What? Since when do you speak Spanish?"

Shawn looked around the offices to make sure that they weren't overheard. "Seems like one of my neighbours saw Eric this morning. She called in a tip, and now Lassie is hot on my trail."

"Darn. What now?"

Shawn pointed a finger at his friend. "That, my friend, is the big question. Lassie won't dare to search my Dad' place, so we're still on the safe side for now. Let's go see what the Chief has to say."

"Do you think that's wise?"

"Did I ever care whether something was wise or not?"

Gus thought for a moment, then he started after Shawn, but he took care to stay behind him. Chief Vick's office door was opened slightly and this time Shawn even knocked lightly on the door before they entered. Vick looked up at Shawn, her gaze angry.

"Mr. Spencer, I trust Detective Lassiter had a word with you?"

"More than just one, Chief. You know good old Lassie. Once he gets talking, there's no stopping him. And I trust the fact that I'm walking into your office, free and unshackled, is proof enough that I'm not hiding away any fugitives?"

Vick closed the file she had been holding and got up from her chair. "Then how do you explain that tip your neighbour called in?"

Shawn shrugged. "First of all, I'm living in a house full of elderly ladies. They're easily bored. And paranoid. Really paranoid. And most of them already suspect me of stealing their papers and milk bottles, so accusing me of hiding a fugitive of justice seems like the next logical step."

Vick sighed. "Mr. Spencer. I don't need to tell you what a serious offence we're talking about."

"Not at all, Chief. However, my conscience is clear. Now, about that case."

"What about it? You have any new information?"

"Ever since Detective O'Hara brought me the file, I've been getting visions of something that is missing. Something is missing from the forensics report."

Vick shook her head. "The crime scene guys went over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I doubt that there is anything they have been missing."

Shawn put a hand to his temple and stretched his other hand out to point. "I was looking at the pictures, and then it came over me. Griggs came into the door, but he didn't see the boy. Because the boy wasn't in the dark corner to the left. I'm getting…crates. He was behind the crates, Chief. But if Griggs couldn't even see him, he couldn't have argued with him."

Chief Vick was watching Shawn with a frown. "So you're saying there was a third person in that warehouse?"

"It's not what I'm saying Chief. It's what the spirits are trying to show me. All I'm saying is you should consider it a possibility."

Vick sighed. "Even if we do, it doesn't change one thing about the investigation. We'd still need to find Eric Robertson, and until we have a statement from him it doesn't matter whether as a witness or as a suspect. And even if, and I'm saying if, there was a third person in that warehouse that night, forensics didn't find anything that would lead us to that person. So if you don't have any more specific information, I suggest you just let us continue the investigation."

Shawn nodded. He had known that the little information he had would not overwhelm Vick with joy. And if he faked a vision of the third person being a cop right now, she'd probably throw him out of the office. He needed something to back his info up, and fast.

"All right. Just one question, did the investigation of Griggs bring anything new? Like a reason why he was in that warehouse in the first place. Certainly not to check up on his merchandise."

Vick looked at Shawn for a moment, then she re-opened the file on her desk with a sigh. "No, nothing on that. We've gone through his phone records, landline and cell, and we have run the numbers. He made and received some calls that evening, but so far there was nothing we could tie to his presence in that warehouse. If you've read the file O'Hara brought you, you know that he had a criminal record. But there were no offences since his release from prison."

"Which only means that he didn't get caught."

Vick raised her eyebrows. "What does that mean?"

Shawn did his best to look startled, as if his words had surprised him more than Chief Vick. "I don't know, it just popped out. I…maybe…check his finances. Yes, check his finances. Maybe somebody was keeping him informed."

"Well, we do have people working on that Mr. Spencer. So really, right now I don't see anything you could help us with."

"Just checking in", Shawn said and flashed her a smile. "How could I not, after Lassie asked so nicely. Have a good day, Chief."

"Good day to you, Mr. Spencer", Vick answered and Shawn was out of her office. Gus was hovering just outside the door, and he quickly fell into step as Shawn walked down the corridor.

"So what now?"

Shawn sighed. "They're still checking Griggs, so I don't know yet if something will show up there. I just hope they'll find something that'll help us identify the murderer. Let's go find Juliet, see what she's got."

"All right."

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It was a common misconception that raising a child made you an expert on how to deal with all kinds of kids. And as misconceptions normally were, it was totally wrong.

Henry had raised Shawn, and while that had certainly been a task comparable to watching a pack of fleas at times, it didn't make Henry an expert on children.

His own kid he could read well enough. Problem was, Eric was the total opposite of Shawn at his age. Shawn had been a package of perpetual restlessness. He had never been quiet, and you had always noticed him when he was around. Psychologists probably would have a field day analysing that in regard to his relationship with his parents, but Henry knew that it hadn't been a constant cry for attention. It had simply been Shawn's way of tackling life, as loudly and exuberantly as possible.

Eric was the total opposite. Had Henry not been acutely aware that the kid was there, it would have been easy to miss him. And he wasn't a big talker. Now, Henry was sure that a large part of this had to do with Eric's discomfort with the current situation. He only trusted Henry because Shawn had said he could, Henry knew that. But still it was somehow disconcerting to sit across the table from an eleven year old who didn't talk on his own and answered monosyllabically when he was asked something. It was just so different from his own son.

What wasn't different was the relationship to food. Just like young Shawn, Eric had devoured his lunch with the intensity of a starving animal. Henry would say it had to do with growing, but he knew that with Shawn it had never stopped even as he had reached his full height.

But once lunch was finished and the dishes were cleared, the silence grew a bit oppressing.

"So, anything you want to do?", Henry finally asked.

Eric shrugged. "I don't know. Like what?"

"Well, I admit there's not much stuff around the house for a kid your age, but we could go up to Shawn's old room and have a look if you find something interesting there."

"I thought he had an own apartment."

Henry smiled. "Yes, that he has. But he didn't take everything with him when he moved out. And no matter how often I tell him to come and get his stuff, he doesn't." He got up from his chair.

"Come on up, let's have a look around."

He led the way up the stairs, Eric on his heels, and opened the door to the first room on the left. Shawn's old childhood bedroom had been cleared out at one point; when he had moved out Shawn had taken his most priced possessions with him. But there was still plenty of clutter he had never come to get, and which Henry had been too lazy to throw out. Books were still standing on the shelves, flanked by old soccer awards, a small shelf underneath the window still held a couple of remote controlled cars and action figures, and Henry knew that inside the wardrobe there were boxes upon boxes of…well, other stuff, for a lack of better word. He opened the wardrobe up and pulled one of those boxes out.

"Won't Shawn mind if we go through his stuff?", Eric asked shyly.

Henry shook his head and sat down on the bed. "No he won't. He took all the personal and embarrassing stuff out long ago. I doubt we'll stumble across anything he doesn't want us to see.

Eric shrugged and hesitantly sat down next to Henry on the bed.

"You think there might be any comic books in there?"

Henry chuckled. "I doubt it, Shawn always hid his comics away. But let's see."

Digging through this box unearthed a number of old school books, a scrapbook of the LA Lakers Shawn had collected at the age of nine, a couple of board games which Eric eyed with some interest, and a couple of photographs. Henry already wanted to grab the board games and go down to try them out with Eric when he discovered the photos. More out of curiosity than anything else, Henry took one of the framed pictures and peeled away the newspaper wrapped around it. Obviously, Shawn had packed those pictures up to take them along when he had moved out, but at one point had forgotten.

He smiled when he recognised the picture. It was one of Shawn and Gus, at age nine or ten, standing with their arms across each other's shoulder, smiling into the camera. Henry wasn't entirely sure, but he thought it had been taken during their trip to Disneyland.

Eric eyed the picture with interest.

"Is that Shawn and Gus?"

"Yes, that's them. I think they were ten when that was taken."

"For how long have they been friends?"

"For what seems like forever. I don't really know. I think Gus' folks moved here when he was six or seven years old." He turned his eyes away from the picture and towards Eric. "Don't you have a best friend, you know, the one guy you always hang out with?"

Eric shook his head. "Not really. I don't have many friends." He shrugged. "Didn't it ever bother you?"

Henry frowned. "What? That Shawn and Gus are friends? No, why should it have?"

Eric shrugged again, uncomfortably. "'Cause he's black. Stan would throw a fit if…forget about it."

But Henry didn't. That Gus was black had honestly never been an issue, neither for Shawn nor for Henry or his wife. They hadn't raised Shawn to make a difference between people because of their skin colour, and fortunately he couldn't remember any incident while Shawn had been growing up in which Gus being black had been an issue. But he also wasn't stupid enough to believe that everybody else had the same standpoint on that.

He put the picture back down in the box and looked at Eric. "When Gus and Shawn met, it just clicked. I don't know how or why, but it did. You look at them and see two total opposites, and I don't mean because Shawn is white and Gus is black. They are total opposites. But it works for them. They might yell at each other a lot, but when it comes to the crunch, one of them will always stand in for the other. No matter the situation. And it's always been like that. I think that's what really counts, and for that it doesn't really matter what colour their skin is."

Eric shrugged. "I guess. I'm not saying I think it matters. It's just, well…Stan thinks differently about those things."

"Seems like that Stan is a piece of work."

Eric shrugged again. "Somehow. He yells a lot." He shrugged again. "I don't know. People seem to yell a lot at Shawn, too."

At that, Henry smiled. "Yes, he seems to attract that. Provoke it even, at times. It's easy to get frustrated with Shawn because he has a very unique way of thinking, and at times that makes it hard to understand why he does the things he does. Living with him on a daily basis is…a challenge. Did he tell you that he ran away once, too?"

Eric's blue eyes grew wide. "He did?"

"Yes, when he was ten years old."
"But why?"

Henry shrugged. "We had a fallout. Shawn's mother and I were still married, but she was with her folks for three weeks because her mother had gotten sick. So it was just Shawn and me. And we always had problems with each other if we were stuck together for too long without a mediator between us. We had a couple of things we didn't agree on, then there came a big fight and I grounded him. Next thing I know, he had grabbed a backpack and was gone."

"How long was he gone?"

Henry smiled. "About an hour. I caught up with him at Gus' place before he could go anywhere else. I was lucky that I came home earlier that day, I don't want to imagine how hard it would have become to find him once he left Gus' house."

"And what if you hadn't found him?"

Now it was Henry's turn to shrug. "I'd have kept on searching for him until I found him. That's what you do if your child vanishes."

"I don't think my Mom or Stan are searching for me", Eric admitted lowly.

"What makes you say that?"

"Stan doesn't like me. Never has. I mean, he's been around for as long as I can remember, but I always knew that he wasn't my Dad. And I always knew that he wanted to be with my Mom, and not with me. So I just keep out of his way as much as I can."

"And if you can't?"

Henry hadn't forgotten about Eric's look of absolute terror because of something as insignificant as spilled hot chocolate. He had been a cop for too many years as not to recognise the signs.

Eric shrugged again, evasively this time. "What did you do when Shawn pushed you too far?"

"A lot of things, depending on the situation. I yelled, sometimes I have to admit I said things I shouldn't have said. I grounded him, made him help more around the house. All kinds of things like that."

There was a strange look on Eric's face, but he didn't say a word. Henry thought for a moment to find the right words.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Eric nodded. "All right."
"Does Stan hit you?"

Eric shrugged, not meeting Henry's eyes. It wasn't a verbal answer, but it was all the answer Henry needed.

"You know that he has no right to do that, right?"

"It's not as if anyone cares."

Henry frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That nobody really cares. I mean, I try to stay out of his way, and mostly it works. But sometimes, he's just waiting for me to do something that annoys him, and I always do. It's not as if anybody notices."

"You ever told anybody about it?"

Eric shook his head.

"What about your Mom?"

Eric shrugged again. "She only cares about Stan."

"And that's why you ran away."

"I just want to find my real Dad, then I don't need to go back to them, anyway." Eric's voice was getting defensive.

"Even if you find your Dad, you have to know that it's not going to be that easy. I'm assuming that your mother has custody for you, so even if we find your father and he agrees for you to live with him, it will still take some time. And it will need to go through official channels."

"They're going to send me back?"

Henry shook his head. "Not if there's a good reason for you not to go back. Abuse is a very good reason for you not to be sent back. All I'm saying is you need to know that still it's not going to happen as fast as you hope. Transferring custody is a process. And it's one that involved the authorities."

Eric shook his head. "I won't go to the police. They're going to send me back. And I won't go back. I'll just run away again." The panic was back in his eyes, and he had grown pale.

"Eric, calm down. Nothing's going to happen today, all right? First we need to figure out who really murdered that man in the warehouse. And then, once you're safe again, we can start thinking about everything else. Let's just tackle one thing after the other." Henry raised the board games he had taken from the box earlier. "And how about we tackle those now while we wait for Shawn to come back?"

Eric slowly nodded and got up from the bed. Solely mentioning that sooner or later he'd have to face the police seemed to have made him clam up again. Henry had seen it before, far too often. Abusive parents not only managed to emotionally cripple their children with what they were doing, they often also planted such a deep sense of being alone with their problems into the children that even if help was offered, the children were afraid to take it. Henry was sure that Eric still had a long way to go in that regard.

They went back into the kitchen where Eric started to set up the Scrabble board while Henry fixed them something to drink. but just as he was about to sit down, a beeping sounded from somewhere in the house.

"That's the dryer", Henry said. "Seems like your clothes are finished. I'll be back in just a moment, you go on ahead setting up that game."

"Sure."

And Henry left to look after Eric's clothes.

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"Guys, this really won't go any faster if you look over my shoulder", Juliet said with a sigh as she went through the numerous printouts on her desk.

"Maybe not", Shawn admitted. "But it's such a nice shoulder to look over."

A tired smile showed on Juliet's face. "Listen, this might take another half hour, maybe forty minutes. Why don't you two go and get some belated lunch in the meantime. I promise I'll call you if I stumble across anything while you're gone."

"All right. But I'll only bring something for you if you promise that I can look at your shoulder some more later."

"I thought you were looking over my shoulder?"

"I can multitask."

Juliet rolled her eyes, but the smile was still on her face. "Just go, Shawn."

With a smile Shawn turned away from Juliet's desk and nodded his head at Gus, who had been lunging in a chair nearby. "Come on Gus, let's go for a hot dog."

They were already out in the parking lot when Shawn's cell phone started to ring once more.

"Well Jules, that was fast", he mumbled as he fumbled around his pocket for the phone. With a frown, he read the name on the display and immediately answered it.

"Dad, what's up?"

He listened for a moment, and while Gus could not hear what Henry said, he saw Shawn shaking his head in confusion.

"Whoa Dad, slow down. What happened?"

Henry must have repeated his message more calmly now, because Shawn listened intently.

"What?", he asked after a few seconds.

"When? And how? What happened?" He listened again. "No, just stay where you are. We'll be there in ten minutes."

He snapped the phone shut and hurried over towards Gus' car. Gus rushed after him.

"What did your Dad want? What happened?"

Shawn only stopped when he reached the passenger door and looked at Gus. "Eric ran away again."