General O'Hara (retired) surreptitiously listened as Juliet gave directions to the officer that Spencer had referred to as 'Buzz' while her partner chewed out the pseudo-psychic… who was staring at the mobile bulletin board with the details of the case on it. The Chief, meanwhile, was ignoring Lassiter as she asked Shawn why he believed the case was a murder. Spencer, when addressed by the chief, did an about-face, and (with what Thomas suspected was the psychic's version of respect) answered Karen Vick.

The General held a hand over his mouth to hide a smile; he knew the look on Shawn's face. He'd sported it himself more than once… and it annoyed his wife to no end when he wore it before Christmas. The young man knew something; of that, O'Hara was sure.

Despite his queasy stomach in the face of murder, the General looked once more at the images of the death. There had to be something there that Shawn picked up on. He examined the way the body lay- prone, looking for signs of strangulation around the swollen neck, anything that would explain Spencer's statement.

"Lassie, point number one," Thomas overheard Spencer say authoritatively, "I only get heebie-jeebies around the boogey man; he cheats at cards. Point number two, I need to go to the scene, and psychically read what's there... come on…" when Detective Lassiter crossed his arms over his chest and glowered with an unusually high amount of ire, Shawn sighed. "Chief?"

"Lassiter, we might as well hear what he has to say," Chief Vick stated with a shrug. Lassiter gaped at her for a split-second before skulking off towards the coffee machine. She turned to glare at her department psychic, "But let's get one thing straight. In no manner will you compromise the investigation; not by talking to the press, not by touching any evidence-"

"Chief," Shawn objected, "the FBI's psychic did that; I had nothing to do with compromising evidence in that investigation-"

"Regardless," she spoke over him, "my rule stands. Also… try to stay out of my chief detective's hair on this case, alright?"

"Chief, with all due respect, I never stay out of Lassiter's hair. In fact, I consider it an art form to stay in his hair…but purely in a metaphorical sense; he-"

"WHO TOOK THE LAST CUP OF COFFEE?!" Lassiter's voice rang out in outrage over the sounds of the station.

Shawn, who had turned his head to see what the commotion was, raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That is a cry for decaf…" He turned back to the chief. "Chief, if you don't mind my asking, do you know what-"

"He ran into his ex-wife during lunch."

"Ah," Shawn commiserated. "But that wouldn't-"

"She was on a date."

Shawn frowned, realizing that his choices in the situation were rapidly diminishing. "Yeah, what would definitely snap a guy's rubber band."

"So just… don't antagonize him any more than absolutely necessary, alright?"

Shawn mock-saluted the Chief. "You got it, Chief."

Karen turned and walked towards her office, and Shawn glanced back at the graying detective with a wince. "Ouch…" he whispered, shaking his head.

"Shawn!" Juliet called, walking towards him. The psychic turned immediately with a smile. "We're going to the crime scene, you coming?" When Shawn raised his eyebrows, she added, "You can ride along."

"Um…" he answered, thinking. "Sure, I'll follow in a minute."

"Juliet," O'Hara spoke to his daughter, "May I ask why you need to go to the scene? You have the evidence-"

"Photographs, Dad," Juliet answered. "Someone snapped the photo with their cell phone and sent it in when reporting the crime online."

"So how did you know who the victim was?"

"His name was reported, too."

"So… how did he get out of the water?"

"The guy who reported it performed CPR, after he dragged the victim out of the lily pond."

"He performed CPR on a corpse? Then what? He went through his wallet?"

Juliet shrugged. "At least he tried… where's Shawn?"

"I'm not sure…" General O'Hara looked around for the psychic, who had disappeared.

Juliet stood on her tip-toes, surveying the bull-pen for Shawn's distinctive hair.

"Could he have gone down to the interrogation rooms, or the evidence room?" O'Hara suggested, surprised that Spencer was capable of eluding his senses… a trait that didn't occur often.

"No…" she frowned. "He doesn't have the keys…" She touched a finger to her lips, thinking. She smirked, then shouted, "Marco!"

Immediately, Shawn's voice came from the Chief's office, "Polo!"

Thomas stared at his daughter.

Juliet shrugged. "It was either that or Olly-olly-oxenfree." She made her way to the Chief's office, and knocked on the door. "Shawn, you coming?"

General O'Hara waited by the door frame, just out of sight.

"Yeah," Shawn agreed, heading towards the door. "Just gotta grab my helmet."

"Mr. Spencer," Chief Vick said, causing the pseudo-psychic to pause, "I mean it."

"Absolutely."

Shawn grabbed his motorcycle helmet off of Juliet's desk before the Chief's voice could be heard, "That wasn't a yes, Mr. Spencer!"

The fake psychic jogged back to Karen's office, and poked his head in the door. "Chief, have I ever disappointed you?"When the chief raised her eyebrows, he added, "Don't answer that. What I meant was, absolutely, I'll follow your instructions to the letter."

"Do I have to write them out for you?"

"…nah. I'm good."

"Just… try, alright?"

"I'll do my best, Chief."

"Thank you… now, get going; we have a case to crack."

"Yes, Ma'am. On my way."

O'Hara raised his eyebrows as Spencer jogged past him. "So," he spoke up, "what did the chief want?"

Spencer skidded to a halt. "Hm? Oh, General, hi. Um…I wanted to beg off an assignment, she wouldn't let me."

O'Hara smirked, and nodded to the exit. "Come on; crime scene's waiting…" he intentionally avoided looking at the bulletin-board. "Do you think the corpse is still going to be there? Wouldn't the coroner have removed it?" Thomas changed the subject.

"Nah; Jules and Lassiter are going to want to see the details with the victim in place."

"What made you say that this case was murder?"

Shawn glanced side-ways at the General. "Sir… you don't trust me, do you?"

"I think I'll reserve my opinion until I see you in action."

That, apparently, struck a nerve in the SBPD's resident 'psychic', who became mildly agitated. "You've pretty much seen the action, General. It doesn't get much more than that."

"So why do you need to go to the crime scene?"

Shawn chuckled nervously. "Pretty much more of the same stuff, sir. Getting a reading…"

"Observing," Thomas interjected, "analysis of the information, presentation of a strong theory based on that…"

"Spirits help, sir," Shawn stated, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"What type of spirits?"

"…helpful ones, restless ones…pretty much the ones that tell me things."

"So you have no means of deciding what spirits are telling the truth and which ones are lying."

"…I've only had accurate information from my sources, sir."

"So what will you do when they lie, Mr. Spencer?"

Shawn frowned, and went for the direct approach. "I'm getting a lot of 'not trusting you' vibe, General. Is there any reason you don't like me?"

"I never said I don't like you, Mr. Spencer. But I don't trust a person that doesn't take responsibility for his own assertions. It's a policy of mine." The General kept a close eye on Spencer's reactions, wondering if the man understood the double-meaning.

Shawn smiled slightly, and Thomas knew that the game was on. "I always take responsibility for my assertions, sir." Spencer held the door to the parking lot open for Juliet's father. "But my responsibility has been ignored before, so I've taken to letting people think whatever they want."

General O'Hara mirrored Spencer's smile as he walked out onto the asphalt. "Mr. Spencer, a man is only as good as his word. I just want my answers from a good, responsible person that I can trust."

"Accept no substitutes," Shawn responded in agreement.

"Then I have one question," O'Hara stated, smiling. "Butter or margarine?"

"General," Shawn said, a chuckle on his lips, "Do I look tubby to you?"

O'Hara nodded once, and headed towards Juliet's squad car, which already had the two detectives in the front seat.

Shawn frowned before putting his helmet on.

He had intended a simple pun on the phrase, a tub of margarine, inferring that he was honest… but he realized that Juliet's father might have interpreted that as he preferred a healthier 'margarine' lifestyle…

"Note to self," he muttered, pulling down the face-guard, "Do not banter with people who are used to politicians…" He kick-started his motorbike, "They can be vague and confusing."

Shawn followed the squad car out of the parking lot, making sure to signal. The last thing he needed was for Lassiter to write him up for a moving violation in front of Juliet's dad.

"No way in Hell," he assured himself. "I'm not going to screw up again, not in front of Jules's father." He pulled to a stop next to Juliet's window. He flipped up his visor, winked at her, and burned rubber as soon as the light turned green. "Catch me if you can," he said, flipping the plastic closed.