I am so sorry this is so late. I have been super busy with other things, but don't fret I have not forgotten you. This is slow, yes, but at least it's an update. I swear the next chapter will be better, longer, and updated a lot quicker. Let me know what you think (reviews will get me to update at Flash like speeds) and I've gotta go.
I OWN NOTHING
Bye...
PSYCH
Lassiter parked in front of the empty two story, an ambulance and a squad car already beating him there. He traded a fleeting glance with O'Hara, before pushing open his door and getting out.
"This isn't helping, Gus," Juliet hissed at him as the two detectives started toward the porch steps.
"There's not much we can do without evidence, O'Hara. Right now we just need to do out job and worry about Guster later."
"And what about Shawn?"
"We have uniforms searching for him. If they find anything we will be the first to know. But until then..."
"...we do out job," Juliet replied slowly, a barely detected tremble in her voice. Lassiter chose to ignore it as he started up the steps, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. He ducked under the yellow crime scene tape, stretched across the door frame, stopping short of the threshold.
"What have we got?" he asked looking up at McNab. The young officer gave him a grim look and said, "Neighbors reported gunshots." he lead the two detectives toward the stairs, drops of blood on every step, a red hand print smeared across the banister. The blood practically led them to the attic, two floors above.
"Has anyone taken samples of this blood?" Carlton questioned pointing out both scarlet stains. McNab nodded, "Yeah, Daniels did. She's holding on to them until forensics gets here." he let the two detectives into the room, stepping aside so they could get a good look.
Carlton took in the scene, noting the boxes jammed into the corner. It was probably crap the old owners didn't want. There was a broken computer chair sitting across from another chair, cut away ropes dangling from the arms.
Officer Daniels, a stocky, dark haired woman, was collecting two knives thrown in the corner, while paramedics worked on the body of Walter Steinberg.
"What's Steinberg doing here?" O'Hara asked glancing over at McNab.
"I don't know. Daniels and I found him up here when we came into the attic." the paramedics quickly loaded Steinberg onto a backboard, carrying him out as fast as they could without hurting him, an iv bag full of liquid resting on his chest.
"Did you check the whole house?" Lassiter asked wondering, not for the first time, how Spencer always seemed to know something was up with a scene with just one glance. And fuck that 'psychic vibrations' shit. There was something else he did. Almost unconsciously, Lassiter squinted like Shawn, turned his head to the side, but drew the line at the whole 'hand-to-the-head' thing.
"Carlton, what are you doing?" a voice said bringing him back to reality. The older detective looked at his partner, feeling his ears burn in sudden embarrassment.
"Nothing," he snapped ignoring the half-hearted knowing smiles on McNab's and O'Hara's faces. He rounded on Daniels, practically screaming, "Daniels, do you have those samples ready for the forensics guys?"
"Yes, but Detective Lassiter..."
"Go, now," he snapped and she scurried out of the room.
"McNab, did you check the rest of the house," he demanded rounding on the taller officer. Buzz nodded saying, "It's empty. Whoever was hear with Detective Steinberg is long gone."
"And seemed to have left a blood trail." Lassiter scanned the room again, taking in nothing new. "Were there any fingerprints left behind?"
"Only on the chair with the arms. Along with some hair follicles right here." he pointed to a spot, just behind the chair, where more blood sat. There were also two gouges in the floor, almost as if the chair had been tipped over at one point. "We took samples of both."
"Was there any clues that Shawn might have been here?" Juliet asked letting her own eyes flick across the scene. She had about as much luck as Lassiter had had at finding something useful.
"No, Juliet, sorry," McNab said quietly. She gave him a nod of thanks, but otherwise didn't say another word. Carlton took one last look, internally growled in frustration, and said, "Keep us posted. We're going to the hospital to check on Steinberg, maybe find out what he was doing here."
"Yes, sir."
With a final nod, Lassiter headed out the door with O'Hara in tow. He was going to figure out what went on in that attic, even if it killed him.
PSYCH
Gus had finally been put in a cell when Steinberg had failed to show up and harass him some more. He laid across his cot, keeping as far away from the toilet as he could. Who really knew what convicts did in that thing?
There was no word on Shawn, and Gus was beyond worried. The last time Shawn had been taking kept replaying over and over in his head. Then the faux-psychic had been shot, was bleeding, yet ran from his abductors. What if, this time, something worse had happened to Shawn? Gus really wished the people who took Shawn would be caught soon, and that Shawn was still alive when they were.
A door opened, bright light spilling down the dimly lit hallway, getting Gus's attention. He sat up, watching as Henry Spencer approached his cell. The older man stopped short of the bars, wrapping his hand around one. It was silent for a good seven seconds, the tension couldn't have been any thicker, when finally Henry said, "This is your fault, you know?"
"What?" Henry had never blamed Gus for anything. It was usually Shawn who got the blame, no matter whose idea it was to do something stupid. To hear those words, in that tone of voice, was enough to make Gus cautious.
"You heard me. You're the reason Shawn is missing. My son could die because of you." every word was like a tiny dagger stabbing Gus in the heart. "If he dies, you can join him. If he dies, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" Henry threw himself at the bars, turning into a bloody Shawn...
Gus jerked awake, barely suppressing a scream. He pushed himself up, off the lumpy mattress, and scrambled to his feet. He let his eyes scan his cell, half expecting Henry to still be watching him. But there was no one, just Gus.
The pharmaceuticals rep glanced out the barred window, silently hoping Shawn would be standing above him, a huge grin on his face, promising to get him out of this. Except, he wasn't. Shawn Spencer was missing.
"Shawn where are you?" Gus whispered settling back on his cot. Please be okay, he thought wearily, placing his face in his hands. Just be okay...