CHAPTER 6

"I can't believe Lassie played me like that!" griped Shawn for the thousandth time. "I knew he was up to something."

Juliet rolled her eyes, biting back an admonishment. She was so emotionally drained from the night's events that her nerves were shot and control of her temper was almost nonexistent. She gripped the steering wheel and kept scanning the sidewalks and doorways of the neighborhood around Jo-Jo's Pizzeria. Shawn and Gus were sitting in the back seat of the car as they drove around the area in an ever-widening search pattern. Other units were on the alert as well, but they were just operating under a BOLO and weren't actively searching like Juliet. The chief had issued the BOLO for Lassiter after he'd bolted from his apartment, but she had said she didn't think the situation required an all-out manhunt. Juliet and Shawn had argued that it did, but the chief was reluctantly firm on the subject. She had said there wasn't enough evidence that Lassiter was doing anything other than getting away to "clear his head," and that they just had to hope he'd come back soon. Juliet had seen how furious the chief was, though, about it. She was as worried as the rest of them but was unable to justify spending department resources on a wider search.

Chief Vick, red-faced and fuming, had relented a little, at Juliet's insistence, and had allowed them to travel out to Jo-Jo's to look for Lassiter, but if he wasn't there, she'd ordered them to keep their focus on the North case and the search for Riley North. Her argument was that if they found Riley, they wouldn't have to worry about Lassiter's safety anymore. Juliet, however, took the opposite view. She was sure that Lassiter was gunning for Riley, so she figured finding her partner just might be the key to finding North.

"Lassie played you beautifully," said Gus, unable to resist goading his friend. "He played you like Miles plays the horn."

"Like Eddie Van Halen plays the axe," said Shawn, joining in.

"Like..."

"Guys! Just stop!" yelled Juliet.

Shawn grimaced as he gazed out of his window. "Sorry, Jules," he said sincerely. "I'm just a little mad that Lassie lied to me."

"It sounds like he just let you make your own assumptions," said Gus dryly. "So, technically, he didn't lie to you."

"He lied when he said 'I'll be out in a minute'!" sniped Shawn.

"No, he didn't," retorted Gus. "He was pretty much out in a minute after that...out his bathroom window."

Juliet slammed on the brakes in the middle of the street. Shawn and Gus both threw their hands out to stop themselves from crashing into the front seats, eyes wide with shock. Juliet put the car in park and turned around to glare at them. "I...said...stop," she hissed.

Shawn and Gus looked at each other for a long moment as they sat slowly back into their seats, then they turned to her with contrite expressions tinged with fear.

"Okay, Jules," said Shawn soothingly, as if he was talking to a bull ready to charge. "We'll shut up now."

Juliet squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head as she turned away. She braced both hands on the steering wheel for a moment and took three deep breaths. "I'm sorry guys," she started. "I'm just..." She had to stop and swallow a lump in her throat. She couldn't tell what she was, really. She was frightened and angry and grief-stricken all at the same time, and the combination seemed almost impossible to bear. She just wanted to find Lassiter. She couldn't stand the thought of him going out and getting himself hurt, or just as possibly doing something that could ruin his career and hence his whole life. Not after what had happened to Lisa. Juliet felt so completely at fault for Lisa's death and Lassiter's rage-blinded mission, and all she wanted to do was fix it all, make it all right again, somehow. She knew that could never happen, though. Her chest felt like it was being crushed under an immovable weight.

"Jules," said Shawn as he sat forward again in his seat. He put a tentative hand on her shoulder. "We'll find him. He's going to be okay."

She took another unsteady breath and shook her head. Then she put the car in gear again and started to drive. "Not if we don't keep looking," she said grimly.

Shawn grimaced and sat back, flashing Gus a look of despair before turning to gaze out his window.

oOoOoOoO

Lassiter watched the two men approaching him in the alley and felt a surge of adrenaline. He was pretty sure they weren't just passing through. He cursed fate and looked around for places to hide or things he could use in a fight, if it came to that. He'd been so close to getting Braden to cooperate and turn in Riley. Hopefully, he'd get out of this mess and be able to find the kid again, soon. He noted possible escape routes as the men got closer, but he was hoping that he could just talk his way past the thugs and find someplace to wait until Braden's call.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing back here?" asked the bald thug as they stopped a few feet away.

Lassiter shrugged. "Nothing. What are you doing here?"

"Look, friend," said the guy with both arms fully tattooed. "We're from here. You're not. So what are you doing?"

"Actually, I was just leaving," said Lassiter as he started to walk towards them, hoping to just go past and out of the alley.

"I don't think so," said Baldy as he held out a hand to block Lassiter's path. "Who was that you were talking to?"

Lassiter narrowed his eyes at the men as his heart started to race. He was getting the feeling that they weren't in the mood for him to talk his way past. "It was just some guy I met in a bar. He said he could get me some stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" asked Tattoo.

"None of your business," snapped Lassiter.

"Oh, it's our business all right," said Tattoo, taking a step forward.

Baldy held up a hand to stop his friend. "Hold on, hold on. What was the guy's name? We just like to keep track of who's doing what around here. That's all."

Lassiter shrugged. "I don't know. Frankie or something like that."

"We don't know any Frankie," said Tattoo menacingly.

"Maybe he's just visiting too, then," said Lassiter.

"It looked kinda like Brady to me," said Tattoo. The bald thug nodded.

Lassiter's heart skipped a beat, but he just said with a bored tone, "I thought it was Frank something. Pock marked face and a big scar on his nose?"

Baldy's gaze sharpened on Lassiter for a moment. "That doesn't sound like Brady."

"Fine. Look, friend," he said, echoing Tattoo. "I'm not looking for trouble. I was just talking to that guy, now I'm ready to leave. You won't see me again, okay?"

Baldy and Tattoo exchanged a look, and then Baldy said, "Sure, okay man." The two men stepped apart, opening a lane for Lassiter to walk through. "Have a nice night."

Lassiter felt his stomach do a flip. "Yeah, sure, you too," he said as he started to walk between them. He was hoping against hope that they were really going to let him go.

He took three steps. There was a slight scuffing noise, then hands gripped his shoulders and started to push him roughly to the side, towards the brick wall of the building. He tried to plant his feet and push back, but both men had a hold of him.

"Hey!" he managed to yell, but then he was shoved face-first into the wall, the rough brick scraping his left cheek painfully. He tried to push away with his hands, but each of the thugs had a grip on one of his upper arms while using their other hands to keep his shoulders pinned tightly to the wall.

"He smells like a cop to me," said Tattoo.

Lassiter wriggled, trying to get free of their grasp. "Then there's something wrong with your nose," he said with some difficulty as his face was still smashed up against the bricks.

"Check him," said Baldy.

He felt the pressure on his shoulders release as they started to pat down his coat pockets. He braced his hands on the wall and looked down, locating one of the thug's feet, then he raised his right leg and stomped his heel down on the inside of Tattoo's booted foot as hard as he could. The man screamed and released his arm as he bent over in pain. Lassiter shoved himself towards Baldy, pushing with all of his force against the wall to propel himself into the man. Then he wrenched his left arm, which was still in the thug's grasp, up and away, breaking the hold at the weakest part of the man's grip. He continued his spin around and swung his right fist into Baldy's gut. The man doubled over, breath escaping in a whoosh. Lassiter pushed the unbalanced man to the ground as he tried to move past him towards the street, but Tattoo's fist blurred into his vision. He pulled up and ducked but only avoided part of the blow as knuckles smashed across his right cheek, making his teeth and skull ring with pain for a few aching moments. He kept spinning in the direction of the punch, which was back into the depths of the alley, unfortunately, but he had to put distance between himself and Tattoo. He tried to regain his balance after the blow as he stumbled for several steps. When he was steady again he whipped around to find Tattoo stalking him and wielding a knife. Fuck.

He kept walking backwards, glancing quickly around for an escape route. Baldy was up now and approaching as well. The thug leaned over as he walked and snatched up a two foot section of rebar that had been on the ground. Fuuuuck. He narrowed his eyes and made the decision, reaching around to his back. He stopped walking and pulled out his two guns, aiming them at the thugs.

"Whoa!" said Baldy, stopping in his tracks.

"Sonofabitch," growled Tattoo.

"Drop those!" ordered Lassiter, aiming a gun at each man and feeling his face settle into a snarl. The men dropped their weapons.

"Now back up," gritted Lassiter as he took a step forward. "Back the fuck off!"

"What are you, Clint fucking Eastwood?" asked Tattoo with a sneer, but his eyes flashed with fear as he retreated a step.

Lassiter walked forward, glaring hotly as the adrenaline coursed through him. "Get up against that wall!" he ordered. The two thugs backed up until they were against the brick wall as Lassiter kept moving towards the street. He turned to face them once he'd drawn even, then he continued the rest of the way backwards so he could keep them in his sights. When he reached the end of the alley he paused and looked both directions, but there was no one else on the street. He aimed his glare back at the men for a moment, and then he turned and ran out of the alley and up the street, stashing the guns in his waistband again as he went.

He ran for two blocks in the general direction of Jo-Jo's, though he wasn't sure why. He figured that it was just a known location his adrenaline-fueled brain had latched onto during the "flight" response. He cut down alleys and onto adjoining streets in an effort to cover his tracks in case the two thugs tried to follow him. After he finally slowed to a walk, he tried to think about what the hell he was doing. He walked with his hands on his hips, breathing heavily, and for some reason the only thing could think clearly about for several minutes was how he needed to get back to a regular exercise routine because the whole wheezing-after-long-runs thing was getting old. He turned a corner onto a street that seemed somewhat busy and well-populated for the time of night, noticing that it was lined with several bars. He paused outside one bar with big windows. Glancing inside, he saw that it had about a dozen people mingling inside. Big TV screens showed news and sports channels. He leaned back against the wall of the building and watched the occasional car drive past on the street as his mind finally settled into normal patterns. He knew what he had to do.

He pulled out his cell phone, punching in Juliet's number, then he slid down the wall to sit on the sidewalk. His heart started racing again and he realized with some surprise that he was nervous. He'd gone off the deep end after seeing Lisa's body in her car, and he'd been absolutely ready to commit murder. If I'd found Riley first, instead of Braden...Jesus I almost became what I hate. I think that kid saved my life. He took a shaky breath as the phone was answered.

"Carlton! Is that you? Where are you?" yelled Juliet so that he had to pull the phone away from his ear.

"It's me, O'Hara. I'm fine," he said. He looked up at the nearest street sign and then twisted to look at the bar's name. "I'm on Carson Street, at a bar called Skipper's."

"Stay there, dammit!" she yelled again, making him wince. "We'll be there in a few minutes. We're not far."

He realized with an aching twist in his gut that they'd been searching for him. Juliet had to be a wreck, after Lisa's murder and then with him just running off with no word. "I'll be right here, in the bar," he said, trying to sound reassuring. He was going to get reamed when they arrived, he was certain of that. And he deserved it, too, for running off like an idiot vigilante and causing his partner so much added grief. "I'm sorry." He added the last with a hopeless tone.

"Jesus, Carlton," said Juliet, voice calmer finally. "Just stay put." Then she hung up.

Lassiter lowered his head and suddenly felt every ache and injury on his body. Sore, scraped cheeks, headache, stinging knees and an aching hand from punching the guy's gut, not to mention sore legs and blistered feet from running so damned much.

"Hey, move along there. No bums," said a voice above him.

He looked up to see the bouncer from the bar leaning out the door and waving at him with a dismissive hand.

Lassiter straightened up. "I'm not a bum," he said tiredly.

"You look like a bum. Move on."

Lassiter stood up and glanced down at himself, realizing that he did look like a bum. "I've, uh, had a rough night."

"No shit."

"Some friends are coming to pick me up. I need to go inside," he said, taking a step towards the door.

"This isn't a bus stop, dude. Meet them somewhere else."

Lassiter pulled out his wallet and snagged a bill out of it, waving it in the air. "I'll be drinking."

The bouncer grimaced and sighed. "Okay, but I'm gonna have my eye on you."

"I'm sure you will. Don't worry. I won't be any trouble."

The bouncer just rolled his eyes as Lassiter entered and made his way to the bar. He tossed the bill on the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey. He downed it and then ordered another. He hadn't meant to actually drink, but now that he'd been somewhat forced to do so, he found that it was easing some of his tension. Still, he couldn't wait for his partner to arrive. He needed to get grounded again, get his head straight, and Juliet was the person who could always help him do that. He was tired, and his foray into the dark side of his own nature had been more than a little disturbing. He fiddled with his second drink, just taking sips to pass the time while keeping an eye on the street outside the front window. Thoughts of Lisa, the date and her death, were hovering at the edges of his mind like a dark swarm, but he kept them at bay. For now. He couldn't deal with that yet, the rawness of it. His crazed focus on killing Riley had shifted to apprehending him, and hence helping Braden, but it was still the focus he was fervently maintaining in order to avoid the dark, painful reality of Lisa's murder.

After only five minutes, he saw a gray Crown Vic screech to a halt in a parking space across the street. Juliet jumped out and ran towards the bar, her face tight with concern or anger or, he suspected, both. He stood up and faced the door, bracing himself as she entered. He could see Shawn and Gus getting out of the car behind her. When she got through the door she scanned the bar quickly until her eyes fell on him. Her face seemed to twist in pain, which wasn't what he was expecting. She strode towards him. He opened his mouth to ask if she was okay, but when she was within a couple of feet she suddenly lunged into him and wrapped him in a tight hug, briefly taking his breath away. He returned the hug, less tightly, and watched over her shoulder as Shawn and Gus entered. They both smiled at him, actually looking happy, or at least relieved, to see him. He just nodded. Juliet finally pulled out of the hug, and as she started to take a step back she gave him a swift punch to the gut.

His breath whooshed out. "Jeez, O'Hara," he gasped.

"That was a stupid thing to do, Carlton," she said through clenched teeth.

He grimaced. "I know."

"What were you thinking?"

"I'm not sure I really was," he said dryly.

She nodded. "Uh huh," she said indignantly, then she looked around. "Let's go over here."

She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards a booth, waving Shawn and Gus to it as she went. She pushed Lassiter to one side of the table and scooted in on the other side. Gus slid in next to Lassiter while Shawn took the spot next to Juliet.

"Hey, Lassie," said Gus.

"Lassoudini!" said Shawn. "Or should I say Lassinocchio?"

"Shawn," said Juliet warningly.

"What the hell are you talking about Spencer?" asked Lassiter as he massaged his forehead. Spencer's rambling was just about the last thing he needed.

"You totally lied to me, man," said Shawn. "You used me!"

"Oh," said Lassiter. "Yeah, but I didn't really lie to you, I let you make an assumption...and then I used you." He gave Shawn a half-apologetic look and a not-very-apologetic shrug.

Gus kicked Shawn under the table, looking smug. Shawn kicked back. Juliet slammed a fist down hard, making all three men jump. She just glared at each of them in turn for a few moments, starting with Shawn and Gus and ending on Lassiter.

"What happened? Where did you go? It looks like you got in a fight, Carlton. Are you okay? And, finally, for god's sake, tell me what the hell is going on with you," said Juliet, her voice growing more strained with each sentence.

Lassiter had his hands on the table, fidgeting with his fingers and picking at the scratched up skin of his palms. He took a deep breath. "I should start at the beginning," he said.

"Can you start on page 42 instead?" quipped Shawn, still seemingly indignant. He clammed up quickly though when he received a death-glare from Juliet.

"After the shooting, when I was trying to sleep at home, I got a phone call," he began. "Anonymous. A man asking if I was the one who had killed...'him.'"

Juliet was flabbergasted. "Last night? Why didn't you report it this morning at your IA interview?"

Lassiter blinked with surprise. "Was that just last night?" Then he blushed. "I don't know why I didn't say anything. I guess I thought that maybe it was just a prank call, that it might not have anything to do with the case," he said dejectedly. "Stupid, I know."

Shawn's brow was furrowed. He put his elbows on the table and clasped his hands in front of him, suddenly deep in thought.

"After I went back home, this morning, I was trying to sleep again, because I haven't really been sleeping well," he paused and cleared his throat. "Anyway. I got another call. He asked me why I'd done it."

Juliet groaned and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Gus got up and went to the bar.

"Carlton," said Juliet.

"I was going to tell you," he interjected. "Tonight, at..." He stopped and stared at his hands as the dark swarm engulfed him for a few moments. His eyes started to burn.

Juliet drew in a breath. "Oh, god," she said with such abject despair that Lassiter was shaken from his own thoughts and he glanced up at her. "At dinner." Juliet's eyes were brimming too. Lassiter felt his broken heart crack a little more because of his partner's suffering.

"I should've told you, when you called," said Lassiter in a gruff near-whisper, finding it harder to speak the closer they got to the raw gaping wound of the night.

They fell silent for a few moments as Gus brought four glasses of water over to the table. Lassiter was the only one to take a drink. He was disturbed to see his hand shake when he picked up the glass, so he just kept it on the table and sipped from the straw.

"Is that all?" asked Juliet with a hollow tone.

Lassiter grimaced. "No."

They all looked at him, Gus expectantly, Shawn with a thoughtful curiosity and Juliet with desolation.

"I saw a car, parked across the street, when Lisa arrived," said Lassiter. He was silent for a few moments, feeling as if the admission was going to bring down a rain of fire or at least a reprimand from Juliet. No one spoke. "I didn't really think about it, because, well...I was letting her in, and I saw it, but she was there, and..." He trailed off, closing his eyes against a wave of guilt.

"You couldn't have known," said Gus sympathetically.

Lassiter worked his jaw and felt the look of self-disgust twisting his face, felt it throughout his whole being. "I should've known."

"What did the car look like?" asked Shawn, trying to focus the recounting on a solid detail and pull it out of the black forest of emotions a little bit.

"Gray Buick, rust spots, dents on the left rear panel," said Lassiter with practiced precision. "I didn't get the plates, though."

"Is that why you ran back?" asked Juliet.

Lassiter nodded. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned forward so his forehead was resting on the palms of his hands. "After she left. Right after. I got another call."

Gus made a small noise of despair as the shock of his statement ran tangibly through the three of them.

"He was panicked and said he didn't know what he'd been planning and that he'd taken her. I ran outside. The Buick was still there, but Lisa's car was at the end of the street already. I ran after it," he recited the events and gazed into the blackness of his closed eyes, feeling like he was walking down a dark tunnel in his mind. "I heard the shot." He stopped at the end of the tunnel and stared at the image of Lisa again, as frozen as he had been when he'd been standing next to her car.

"I don't understand," said Juliet. "Who was calling you?"

It was Shawn who spoke. "Braden," he said sadly.

"The other son? Why?" asked Gus.

"He wanted help," said Lassiter numbly, still transfixed by his memory. "He wants my help."

"He's the one who called Gina about her sons being here, and he called in the tip on the robbery," said Shawn, putting together the clues that had solidified in his mind. "He was trying to get his dad caught, right?"

Lassiter nodded, staring at Lisa, the curve of her neck and her limp hands and the blood soaking her shirt. "He wanted to help his brother," he said, finally opening his eyes and sitting back in his seat. He felt the tears form and fall and didn't try to wipe them away. "He called the police so we would save his little brother's life."

oOoOoOoO

Shawn leaned on his elbows, hands together in a prayer-like pose, lips resting against his fingertips. He felt his eyes burning and studiously avoided looking at Lassiter. He looked at Gus instead and saw that his friend was so shocked at the story that his sympathy-tears were still just a sheen in his eyes. Shawn shook his head as if he could dislodge the sadness and tragedies of the past 48 hours from his mind. He tried to focus again on the various events, connecting the dots to make sense of it all. As if any of it could ever make sense. But he had to do it. It always made him feel better to know how everything fit.

"Where did you go tonight?" Juliet asked.

Lassiter was quiet for a few moments and Shawn risked a glance at him, wincing inside at the stark despair etched on his face. But then Lassie seemed to snap into focus again, wiping awkwardly at his eyes and clearing his throat.

"Um, I went to find Riley. I wanted to kill him," he said, voice rough. He paused for a few long, awkward moments as the rest of them remained silent. "I started at the pizza place and moved outwards."

Juliet had done the same thing. Shawn thought they really did make great partners.

"I was looking for the Buick. I found it on Olive street."

They all stared at him, yet again, in shock.

"Did you find Riley?" asked Juliet with apprehension, as if she wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

"I found Braden. I tried to get him to tell me where his father was, but he wouldn't," said Lassiter, sounding faintly ashamed. "Talking to him kind of...I don't know. I guess it snapped me out of it, made me realize what I was doing." He looked down at his hands again.

"Well, I'm glad for that," said Juliet softly, clearly relieved that he hadn't gotten hurt or done something drastic.

"So you didn't find out where Riley is?" asked Shawn, brow furrowed, realizing there had to be more to the story.

"No. We talked. I think I'd just convinced him that I'd changed my mind, that I wanted his father brought in, safely, and then a couple of thugs showed up. Braden ran off."

Shawn's eyebrows raised. "Oh! Is that why..." he trailed off and just waved at Lassie's face which had obviously suffered one or two blows in a fight.

Lassiter nodded, lips pursed.

Gus looked at the detective incredulously. "You fought off two guys?"

Lassiter shrugged slightly. "Having two Glocks helped."

Gus made an "Ah-hah!" face and traded a look of near-amusement with Shawn.

"Braden said he would call me," said Lassiter soberly. He looked up at Juliet as if to say the ball was in her court.

"Now is that all?" Juliet asked again, eyebrows raised.

"Yes," said Lassiter looking suddenly tired and deflated. "I'm sorry, Juliet."

"Carlton, don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're okay," she said, reaching out and putting her hands on his on the table for a few moments.

Shawn took a drink of his water as he considered the details of Lassie's story. So Riley, enraged by his son's death, had decided to go after the cops responsible. He'd figured out who the detectives were, easy enough with the media coverage, and had somehow figured out where Lassie lived, probably not hard for him since he had knowledge of and access to real estate information. He'd staked out Lassie's place and saw a woman go inside. Maybe he thought she was Juliet, or maybe he didn't care. Shawn's brow furrowed for a moment. Where did he get the Buick? He had a truck that was left at the scene of the shooting. How did he manage to get another car so soon? Maybe he just bought it, or stole it. He could've had two cars all along but Shawn doubted that. Maybe he borrowed it. Shawn got the familiar tingle of gut instinct at the thought.

"Lassie," he said. "You said you found the Buick. Is that where you saw Braden too?"

Lassiter was fishing an ice cube out of his water and wrapping it in a napkin to hold to his bruised right cheek. "Yeah, I saw the car parked in an alley. I started to stake it out when Braden walked up the street and headed down the alley. I cornered him there."

Shawn pursed his lips. "And then the two thugs came down the same alley?"

Lassiter nodded as he held the ice pack to his face.

"That's quite a coincidence, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?" asked Juliet.

"It just seems like a busy alley for being the middle of the night. I was just wondering where Riley got another car. His truck was impounded after the shooting, right?"

Juliet nodded. They all three looked at Shawn, waiting for him to continue.

"Well, where did he get the Buick? Maybe he borrowed it. Maybe those two thugs are friends of his, or accomplices?"

Lassiter nodded. "Braden said they were his dad's friends. That's why he ran. He was afraid they'd see him talking to me."

"We need their descriptions," said Juliet. "Or better yet, you should go to the station and look through some mug shots. If we can identify them, they might have an address."

"It wouldn't surprise me if they have records," said Lassiter. "They were big, one bald, the other with both arms tattooed. The inked-up guy had a knife. I think they pegged me as a cop." He grimaced.

"I hope they didn't see Braden then," said Gus.

They all nodded. "I just hope he calls back," said Lassiter with an expression of concern. "If we can get him to come in, I'm sure he can help us round them all up."

Lassiter's phone rang. They all looked at each other for a moment, wide-eyed, as Lassie pulled the phone out of his pocket. He looked apprehensive as he hit the key.

"Hello," he said. "Yeah. Look, Braden, I'm sitting here with my partner. We're ready to send people to get your dad. I need you to tell me where he is."

Shawn noticed how conciliatory Lassie sounded talking to the kid. He could tell he really cared about helping him. Shawn had figured out that Braden must've been the anonymous tipster after Gina's description of him at the hotel. The kid seemed to love his dad and his brother deeply, but he also seemed to have a strong sense of right and wrong. He'd been caught up in his dad's lifestyle unwillingly, going along with it to keep an eye on his brother. When it was getting more serious, he'd tried to find a way to get his brother and himself free of it. He'd almost done it, too, but bad luck had hit them all hard. Shawn watched as Lassie listened to the kid for a few moments, face etched with worry.

"Yes. I promise. Braden? Wait, don't hang up yet..." he said in a harsh whisper. Then he scowled and ended the call. "Dammit! He hung up. I think Riley walked in on him."

"Did he say where they were?" asked Gus.

"No, he was just asking me again if I was going to keep his dad safe," said Lassiter with a sour look.

Juliet sighed and rested her face in her hands for a moment. "Let's get you back to the station," she said as she sat up again, looking bone-tired. "We'll see if we can trace the calls."

Lassiter gave her a hopeless look. "His calls have never lasted more than a minute."

"We have to try," she said as she nudged Shawn to move. "You can look at the mug shots, too."

"And you can prepare yourself for when the chief comes in tomorrow," said Gus as he stood up to let Lassiter out. "You know, settle your affairs, take your measurements. Pine box and all."

Lassiter and Juliet both rolled their eyes and scowled as they scooted to the edge of the booth seats. Shawn grinned. "Dude, you just made an inappropriate joke in the midst of a totally serious and grim situation," he said, giving Gus a jovial slap on his shoulder. "I've taught you so well!"

Lassiter's phone rang. They all froze, again, Shawn and Gus standing, Juliet and Lassiter still sitting in the booth. Shawn was starting to feel like what those dogs in that experiment must've felt like...what was the scientist's name? Pavel Chekhov or something. He'd have to ask Gus about that one.

Lassiter answered, "Braden? Just tell me..." He paused, listening, brow furrowed. Then his eyebrows raised and an almost hopeful looked entered his eye. "Okay. Are you going?" He nodded, then he held his hand over the phone for a moment. "Riley is going to skip town. He's headed to the bus station, alone," he whispered. Then he took his hand away. "That's a big help Braden. My partner will be there. No, I'm not going, I can't. I have to go back in to the police station." Lassiter was looking at Juliet as he said the last part. She gave him a pained look but nodded. He gave her a resigned nod in return. "Got it," he said and hung up.

"Greyhound terminal then?" asked Juliet as she pulled out her own phone. Lassiter nodded. Juliet stood up and walked off to the side to make her call to the station.

"What's Braden going to do?" asked Shawn.

"He said he wasn't going with his dad," said Lassiter with a furrowed brow, as if something about the conversation bothered him.

Shawn grimaced. "But where is he going then? Is he going to turn himself in?"

"I think so," said Lassiter uncertainly. "He didn't really say. He was acting..."

"What?" asked Shawn when Lassiter didn't continue.

Lassiter shrugged. "I don't know. Something seemed off. This whole damned mess is 'off' though." He leaned forward on his elbows again and put his face in his hands, heaving a tired sigh. "Hopefully he'll turn himself in, maybe after his dad is caught and he sees that I've kept my promise."

Shawn thought that seemed awfully vague, but catching Riley was definitely the priority. Juliet came back to join them.

"Okay we're going to head over to the terminal now. I told Buzz to come and pick you up," she said to Lassiter. "So stay here, dammit."

Lassiter grimaced and nodded. "I'm sorry I can't go," he said glumly. Shawn saw the same look of defeat on his face that he'd seen during the Chavez case, when he'd been sure he was going to be charged with the guy's murder.

"Hey, Lassie, we're going to get Riley now, because of you, man," said Shawn, indulging in a pep talk for the dejected detective. "You made that connection with Braden so he'd give us this tip. You're going to help him get his life straight again by doing this."

Lassiter just shrugged and nodded. "You guys be careful," he said looking up at them with a mixture of longing and anxious concern. "Please. And if you can, O'Hara, take him alive. I promised the kid."

"We'll be careful, partner. And I'll get him. He deserves a life behind bars," said Juliet. She waved at Shawn and Gus to head out the door, then she put a hand on Lassiter's shoulder for a moment as they all walked past. "Buzz will be here soon. See you at the station."