Shawn's mind raced as he followed Gus down the precinct's stairs. How did the lady die, why did someone want to kill her, what other visions could he have about her? He was light enough he could float into the sky as the steps ended and Gus walked towards the curb. He'd been listened to, he'd been able to do something, he'd be able to earn Gus money… So many questions to ponder, so many good things to soak in. It was a good day.

Gus raised his hand to hail a passing cab and Shawn felt the inklings of disappointment start to creep through his thoughts. He didn't want the good day to end yet.

And the case wasn't done; there were more answers to find.

"Can we go to the library?" Shawn heard himself ask as Gus reached for the taxi's door.

He didn't even try to trick himself into thinking he shouldn't have asked when Gus turned around with a confused look. "What? Why?"

"If they call us after the tox screen comes back, I'll have to have another vision," Shawn explained, his thoughts spilling out of his mouth as soon as he thought them.

"So…? What does that have to do with the library?"

Gus' confusion would almost be sweet if it wasn't keeping Shawn from figuring out more clues. "We need to see where the lady worked, hear what the people have to say, smell the books, taste the… No. Not taste."

Gus just continued to stare at him until the cab driver rolled down the window. "Hey, you gonna get in or not?"

"Uh, yeah. Sorry."

The excitement running through Shawn's blood wouldn't let him hide behind his slave mask. Especially after Gus gave the cabby the name of the library where the old lady had died. This was easily one of the best things he'd ever done. And with the contract, they'd get to do it all of the time.

His leg jiggled as he looked out the window, taking everything in like it was brand new. There could be a crime going on in any one of those houses or businesses. And then he'd have a reason to go in them, and look around, and learn things…

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to keep your slave under control," the cab driver said, his eyes glaring through the rearview mirror.

"He's not doing anything."

"I kept my mouth shut when you let it on the seat, but you clearly don't have it properly trained."

Shawn snapped his eyes down from where he'd been staring back, his leg stilling as he made himself smaller. Gus had done so much for him, the least he could do was not draw attention.

Gus' voice was ice cold when answered, "He wasn't even talking."

"It doesn't need to talk to turn aggressive. I've got my own safety to think about."

"Pull over," Gus spat out.

Memories rushed in at his master's tone. Memories of pain across his back and guilt across his heart. But also memories of protection and respect. Shawn's master was angry, and Shawn was safe.

The car stopped and Gus shoved the door open. "Shawn, we're leaving."

Shawn shook himself out of his daze and quickly followed. Gus dropped a handful of bills and coins on the passenger side seat as he snapped out, "For the fare." He flipped a single penny into the cabby's lap. "Keep the change."

The cab driver's face grew red with rage. "Why you little–"

Gus slammed the door closed, keeping them from ever finding out what, exactly, he was a 'little' of. He stood stock still as the taxi screeched off, his hand clenching and unclenching around the leash. As soon as the car was out of sight, his temper blew.

"That good for nothing, slimy, empty attic for a brain, De Niro knockoff!"

"Is that last one actually an insult?" Shawn had to ask.

"He was a taxi driver. You knew what I meant." Gus spun around and paced in front of Shawn, snapping his body around as soon as the leash started to move. "He had no right to say those things, you weren't causing any problems, the fact that he thought you were going to get violent?" He raised his voice to yell down the street. "I'll show him violent!"

Shawn had never seen Gus lose his temper quite like this before. He'd been mad in the past, even yelling at times, but nothing like this. "He was just–"

"No!" Gus spun around and pointed emphatically at him. "I don't care if it's an order; don't say it."

It was so strange, barely being afraid as his master yelled at him. "The collar doesn't know what you don't want me to say."

"You were about to say that it wasn't that bad. That the… the… stale fries smelling, greasy fingered, sorry excuse of a human was right because you weren't following one of the million and a half rules you're supposed to follow. That you'd 'forgotten your place' or were being 'bad' or some other slave phrase that's going through your head. All because you were looking" –he turned to yell down the street again– "out of a fucking window!"

A passing car driver craned their head around to watch Gus in concern. Gus just growled in aggravation and kicked at a clump of grass growing next to the sidewalk. "I hate this stupid world." He kicked again harder. "I hate the rules." Kick. "I hate the expectations." Kick. "I hate how it's never ever ever ever ever going to change!" The grass gave way under the kicks, flying into a nearby parking lot. Gus stared at it, his shoulders heaving as he caught his breath. "I hate that we're stuck with it."

Oh. This wasn't just about the driver. Poor Gus had been stressed for weeks, especially once he'd realized they were going to be working with the cops. It was bound to blow eventually. But was it better to let him get it all out or to help him calm down?

There actually wasn't any harm in asking. "Feel better or need to keep going?"

Gus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm fine. I shouldn't have yelled around you, sorry."

"It's ok," Shawn answered honestly. "I wasn't scared."

Gus peeked at him suspiciously. "Really?"

Shawn couldn't deny his heart beating faster, but he hadn't lied. "I wasn't scared of you."

"Well that's something at least…" Gus groaned and ran a hand over the back of his neck. "You don't have any idea why I'm mad, do you?"

"You don't like when people treat me like a slave."

"It's not that. I mean, it is that, but it's not just that. People will walk right in front of you without noticing you're there. They get angry when you aren't small enough. They think they have a right to say where you're allowed to be. And the worst part is, you don't see what's wrong with it. It literally doesn't even occur to you that you deserve better."

He was wrong. The whole reason Shawn hadn't tried to back away from helping the cops was because he deserved better than where his position locked him to be. But the feelings he'd felt in his mind from the safety of his sleeping bag were too dangerous to say out loud in the bright light of day. "It's not that I don't… I can't care about that stuff."

Gus winced, his frustrated look shifting to one of shame. "I know. You were trained to be like that. It's not your–"

"It's not that." Maybe if he explained, then Gus wouldn't have to be as stressed whenever they were around other people. "I didn't think it was fair, after I got collared. And they did train me to not say it. But that's not why I stopped saying it." Shawn nodded towards the cars that were passing by, no one paying attention now that the free person was acting normal again. "People are going to act how they will no matter what, and I can't do anything about it. If I get mad everytime, then I wouldn't have time to do anything else but be mad." He held his hand up to his head. "I wouldn't be able to do this, if I was mad all the time."

"Well, that's surprisingly… emotionally healthy of you," Gus grumbled. "But there's a difference between us. Because I can do something about it. And if I don't, then I'd go mad."

"Huh." That wasn't as helpful as Shawn had hoped, but it had kindled the warmth of friendship in his chest. "It's not going to make them stop."

"I know. I still have to do it." Gus pointed down the sidewalk. "I think we're still a few miles from the library. You good to walk?"

"I'm good." Shawn started walking in the indicated direction and Gus matched his speed so they were side-by-side. "So… Are you all yelled out?"

"Why?" Gus asked suspiciously.

"You do realize that I won't be allowed to do any of the talking at the library, right?"

Gus groaned and Shawn braced himself for another rant.

"I hate this world."

After Gus had yelled himself out, the conversation moved to the case. He hadn't been too happy to learn that Shawn had been guessing about the woman's murder. But Shawn was almost seventy percent sure of it, which was pretty good odds. There wasn't any reason for a woman wearing a crucifix to be looking up books about the occult, and there'd been something odd about the information from the interviews. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was definitely something missing.

That reasoning had led to a much more nerdy rant as Gus had listed off Sherlock Holmes cases where a victim had used their last seconds to leave a clue for the police. Which had then turned into a lively debate about which fictional detective was the best. It passed the time quite nicely and left them both relaxed as they finally walked through the library's parking lot.

"Remember, they'll open up more if it sounds like you're gossiping instead of interrogating them," Shawn reminded one last time as they stepped towards the glass doors.

"I know," Gus answered indignantly. "I can remember things from five minutes ago, you know."

"Sure. But also, if any of the librarians are pretty, remember… Your name is 'Gus'." Shawn smirked and quickly stepped back into his slave spot as he felt Gus' glare.

"Haha," Gus deadpanned as the doors closed behind them.

Shawn forced the smile off of his face and looked down. They were here for him to learn things, and they couldn't do that if people were distracted by a slave not knowing his place. It used to be comfortable to make himself smaller than he actually was. It had been safer. But now it felt like fitting into a kennel that was two sizes too small.

He took a quick peek around before returning his gaze to the ground. The library had an older feel, with dark wooden shelves crowded with books and a carpet that muffled their steps. The air was just musky enough to make curling up in the corner with a good story seem the perfect way to pass the day. The only thing that was missing was gentle rain on the windows.

Gus led them towards a small desk with a heavily make-uped lady sitting behind it. Shawn had to fight his smirk again when he decided she was too old to trigger Gus' stutter reflex.

"Hello," Gus greeted her confidently. "I was here a week ago for books about Pluto. Another librarian helped me. Grey hair, old, knew her way around the books… is she around?"

A small pause followed his question before the librarian quietly answered, "That sounds like Agnes…"

"Yes! I couldn't remember her name, thank you. Is she here? She really helped me last time."

Gus' lying was getting better. Even Shawn wouldn't have known he wasn't actually interested in finding more books about Pluto.

"Unfortunately, she's not here anymore."

"Oh, did she retire?"

The lady let out a dry chuckle. "No, she refused to retire. Unfortunately, Agnes passed away a few days ago."

"No!" Gus gasped. "What happened?"

There was a creak as the librarian leaned in closer to whisper, "I heard that she died while she was at work. Everyone's guessing it was a heart attack."

"That poor lady," Gus said with almost passable sympathy.

"Well I don't know about 'poor', what with how she treated everyone working…" The woman seemed to catch herself and said with a lighter voice. "She really had her finger on the pulse of this library. You could list any book and she could tell you exactly where it belonged, right down to the color of the book that should be next to it."

Shawn looked up again, taking in more information. The woman's lips were puckered, like she was trying to keep her real expression from showing. And failing miserably. She had a faint tan line over her ring finger: recently divorced. Her carefully manicured nails were tapping on a book about social justice, like she couldn't wait to get back to reading.

He wouldn't rule her out as a suspect, but she was already low on his list. Even if she was the only one on said list.

Gus seemed to agree as he disengaged from the conversation. "I'm very sorry to hear about her passing."

"Thank you, the library will definitely be different from now on without her in it. But, she wouldn't want us to wallow. There's information to be shared, after all. You said you were interested in planets?"

"Yes, but I think I'll just look around for now."

"I'll be here if you have any questions."

Gus wandered to the bookshelves, stopping once they were out of sight. "Well that didn't tell us much…"

"She didn't like Mrs. McKinsley, and Mrs. McKinsley was good at her job and didn't want to retire even after people told her to," Shawn ticked off on his fingers. "That's way more than we knew before."

Gus raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. "I guess… So now what?"

"Find more people to talk to. There's more going on here."

Gus looked around, his eyes scanning the book titles. "Ok. But let's check something else first…"

He went to the end of the bookcase and walked down the aisle, checking the small signs with numbers on them. He turned down one and ran his finger along the books, muttering under his breath, "Forty-three, forty-three…"

Shawn took a second to watch Gus in his element. He was at home here where all of the information was. "What are you looking for?"

"The dewey decimal number. 133.43."

"You already figured that out. You said it was the occult."

"Yes, but 'occult' can mean a lot of things. Dewey Decimals are broken up into classes and subclasses. The one thirty-threes are all occult and parapsychology, which includes divination, spiritualism, psychics…" He shot Shawn an amused smirk before his finger stopped on a book with the label 133.43. His face shuttered closed as he quietly added, "And witchcraft."

"Which means I was probably right about her being poisoned." Shawn smiled proudly at the proof in front of them.

Gus swallowed nervously and quickly pointed out, "Or someone into witchcraft asked for help finding a book and she died of natural causes while doing it."

Before Shawn could say anything else, they heard another voice get closer. "It can be so rewarding to grow your own food. But something else to think about… ah, here it is. You can find all sorts of things in the wild if you know what to look for. This book really lays it out nicely for you. I highly recommend it."

Gus straightened up and Shawn stepped back, both of them settling back into their roles. They reached the end of the bookcase before the librarian came into view. "Hello, are you finding everything alright?"

"Uh…"

Shawn glanced up and the snort that wanted to be released was almost impossible to keep contained. The woman had to be in her thirties if not older, but the crown of blonde braids and the carefully applied make-up gave her an almost timeless beauty. Some combination of that and the light spring dress that hugged her shapely figure was apparently enough to short circuit Gus' brain.

If Shawn was free, he'd step in immediately. He'd be able to play off of Gus' googling eyes to gain her sympathy then milk her for information. As it was, he'd just have to hope Gus was able to pull out of his nosedive before it was too late.

At least it was free entertainment, even if they didn't get more clues.

"Hi," Gus managed to get out. "I mean, hello. I mean… My name is Gus."

"Hi, Gus. My name is Celeste," the pretty librarian answered, her voice carefully modulated to be tolerant and professional. "Are you looking for information on the paranormal?"

"Only if you're interested in it." Gus put his arm up on the bookshelf, clearly trying to look cool before realizing his hand was resting on a book titled 'Hauntings A-Z.' He jumped and pulled away, like he was expecting a ghost to erupt from the book and grab him. "I mean… uh…"

"I'm not sure I'd say I'm interested in it, but I think there's a lot to this world that we can't see," Celeste said with a small smile.

"Yeah…" Gus looked back towards Shawn. He straightened up and repeated more confidently, "Yeah. I think you're right. I'm very sorry about that. You just caught me at an emotionally vulnerable time."

There was no way that would work…

"Aww, I'm sorry to hear that," Celeste answered in sympathy.

Wait, that was going to work?

"I just found out about Agnes' passing. She always knew exactly which books to point me to," Gus said with a hint of tears in his voice. "I came over here and couldn't help but wonder… do you think she's still here with us?"

Celeste looked taken aback at the question, the look fleeting before she slipped back into her professional role. "I… I'd like to think that she's finally resting in peace. She lived a good full life."

"You don't think there was any unfinished business that could keep her tied to the mortal realm?"

That was actually brilliant. And it was only slightly annoying that he hadn't thought of it first.

The woman ran her hand over a few of the book titles as she shook her head. "Her husband died over a decade ago. She didn't have any other family, not even a slave. I think it's why she poured herself into the library so much. She was a wonderful woman; very passionate about sharing knowledge." She pushed an askew book straight. "And she was very passionate about making that information as easy to find as possible. A book out of place was a book not being read."

She didn't wear as much of herself on her sleeve like the last woman had. Everything from what she wore to how she acted seemed tailored to give off an elegant but forgettable vibe. Shawn continued to sneak glances at her, but nothing she did was giving him 'killer' vibes.

"She never fought with anyone? Or had any regrets?"

"I don't think anyone could live without regrets…" Celeste hummed thoughtfully before adding, "You know, now that you mentioned it, she did fight with someone recently."

"Really?" Gus asked, coaxing her along.

"There was a young woman who came by almost every week. Usually to this very aisle. Always wore black, tattoos, hair in her face… you know the type."

"Of… Of course," Gus answered, hesitating for the first time since finding his second wind. Was he thinking how she'd just described his RA too? "What did they fight about?"

"Well, Agnes was very religious. She'd never turn away someone seeking knowledge, but she'd definitely voice her… opinions over what they should be learning about instead. The young lady wasn't very pleased to hear about how she was inviting demons into the world and responded in kind. It became quite heated."

"Did anything ever come of it?"

"Well, it certainly circled through the rumor mill a few times," Celeste said, her voice lightening as she remembered. "Bob, one of the other librarians, was able to split them up. But not before a few choice threats were thrown around."

That sounded promising…

"That sounds intense."

"Well, we are open to the public. You're bound to get a few characters that way." She giggled quietly and Gus stiffened, as though falling under a spell. He'd been holding it together so well… "It didn't stop the young lady from checking out her book. I think it was out of spite more than actually wanting to read it by that point."

"Yeah, spite's good… I mean, bad. I mean… it can be a good motivation." Gus just barely stopped himself from saying the next words Shawn could clearly hear in his head. A good motivation for murder.

"Yes, it can be. But that was Agnes for you. Never backing down from what she knew was right."

Gus' voice was suspiciously husky as he started to inch away from her. Shawn followed suit, leading to both of them slowly walking backwards down the aisle. "Thank you for telling me. I feel closer to her now."

"Of course. I hope you find the answers you were looking for."

"Uh-huh." Their awkward shuffle lasted several seconds too long before they finally reached the end of the aisle. Gus immediately spun out of sight and pressed his back to the side of the bookshelf. "Why me? Why me?"

"You do realize she's at least ten years older than you, right?" Shawn asked after making sure he was out of sight as well.

"Did you hear her laugh? It was like a fresh apple pie had been baked into a sound…"

There wasn't any helping him. Which meant it was time to sober him up. "So. Sounds like a witch did it."

The distraction worked too well as Gus' expression fell from dreamy embarrassment to frantic fear. "Oh my god, you're right. We're so getting hexed…"

It was one of the things Shawn was resigned to never understand about Gus. How could someone so smart still be so superstitious? "We're not getting hexed. Magic isn't real."

"That's what people always say in horror movies before they're killed by magic," Gus hissed back.

He had a point… "That's completely different."

"It's the exact same and you know it. And you know who always dies first in those films."

"The slave?" Shawn asked with a smirk.

Gus gaped as the expected script was turned back on him. No one ever remembered those deaths in the movies. Shawn let him flounder for a few more amusing seconds before rescuing him. "Sounds like we need to talk to Bob next."

"Uh… Right. Yeah." Gus peeked around the corner, relaxing when he saw the coast was clear. "At least I won't have to worry about making a fool of myself in front of him too…"

There was a joke right there, waiting to be said. But Gus deserved to feel smart after putting himself through all of this for Shawn. "You did good. I wouldn't have thought of the ghost play."

Gus perked up. "Really?"

"It got us our best clue yet."

There was a definite bounce in Gus' step as he led them to their next source of information.

Bob ended up being a burly man with long hair and a name badge that inexplicably said 'Phil'. He also wasn't the chatty type, only telling them to read the newspaper if they wanted to know any more about Agnes. He immediately shot to the top of Shawn's suspect list. He turned his back and left while Gus was in the middle of trying to get information about the fight with the witch.

By contrast, Hilda, the librarian working next to him, didn't even wait for Gus to ask before she started spilling the beans. "I heard what you were asking, and ooooh you should have seen it. Crotchety lady versus goth gal. The book practically writes itself. Agnes said she'd pray for her, Vanessa said that she'd curse for her. Oh my gosh, it was so good." The pink tips of Hilda's hair flew around as she glanced back to make sure they were still alone. She lowered her voice to admit, "I was kind of sad to see Bob show up; it was the best show we've seen for months."

"Vanessa?" Gus asked in interest. Shawn was proud to see that he was keeping his head in the case. "You sound like you know her."

"Well, we get to know a lot of our regulars. She comes down almost every week. It's almost a game to guess what she's going to check out." Hilda twirled her hair as she thought out loud. "I think she liked talking about what she was reading; she knew how to use the catalog but she always found one of us to help her instead. I guess she'd just managed to avoid Agnes until then."

"We– I heard about Agnes' passing. You don't think…?"

"No," Hilda said immediately. "Vanessa is a bit… different. But between the two of them, Agnes was more likely to be the one to retaliate."

"Really? Celeste told us a bit about her and she seemed like a good person."

Hilda snorted, the harsh sound contrasting with her petite frame. "Of course Celeste liked her, she was Agnes' favorite. All of those years sharing tea in the morning and sucking up to the broad…"

Gus leaned forward in interest and Shawn found himself wishing he could mirror him. It just wasn't the same having to stay out of the conversation…

"You don't seem like you liked her much."

"What was there to like?" the gossipy librarian asked with an exaggerated eye roll. "She wasn't ever happy with anyone else's work, she never had a nice thing to say, she refused to retire and let someone younger take over… I'm honestly surprised she'd be willing to die and leave the books in our clearly incapable hands."

Shawn didn't even bother putting Hilda on his list. No murderer would talk about disliking their victim that openly. Unless it was a false trail… But she seemed too genuine; just someone who enjoyed drama for drama's sake. The paint hiding in her cuticles and the glitter sticking to the cuffs of her sleeves just added to the innocent look.

"Anyone can be a criminal; it doesn't matter how they look. Young, old. Pretty, ugly. Slave, free. It doesn't matter. Which is why those puppy dog eyes won't ever work on me."

Shawn internally rolled his eyes at his father's words and begrudgingly added her to the list anyways. At the bottom. The very bottom with several spaces between her and the next name.

"Man, Agnes sounds like she was a tough boss," Gus said, egging her on.

"You have no idea. I once got a fifteen minute lecture on why books about leather goods didn't belong in the section about clothing and it didn't matter that they were only one shelf apart. I was not allowed to display one next to the other." She leaned even closer and whispered, "Last week I saw her mix up 679 with 976 when she was sorting returns. You should have seen her hands shake when I was able to correct her for once."

"Maybe your new boss won't be as strict… or maybe you'll be the new boss?"

Gus was a genius; hating her boss would be a great motive for murder. Getting to be the boss was even more so. The name slowly started inching up the page.

"Oh no; not me. I'm quite happy down here, thank you very much. But I did hear something…"

Gus gave her a conspiratorial smile, playing his part beautifully. "You know you can't just leave me hanging like that. What did you hear?"

He was made for this.

"Well… Rumor is that Agnes had made some very hefty donations to the library. So hefty that she got a say in who would replace her…"

Someone cleared their throat loudly behind Hilda, making her jump and sit straight up. Bob gave her a knowing look before asking loudly, "Anyone want the last donut back here?"

"Go right ahead," Hilda told him with a large smile. It didn't budge an inch as she told Gus, "I hope you can find that book. I'll keep trying to come up with any other titles that are similar."

"Thank you very much." Gus hesitated before adding on, "Actually, there's one more thing you can help me with…" He glanced over to see Bob still watching them suspiciously. "What was that author's last name again? Vanessa...?"

Hilda's eyes lit up as she grabbed a fuzzy pen. "Let me just write that down for you."

Gus wasn't able to find anyone else to question, so after a quick search on the library's computers they were back to walking. Luckily, Vanessa Halebright lived less than a mile away. No need for taxis.

They'd barely left the library before Gus said, "Ok, real talk. I wasn't sure how things would go at the start. But…"

"You had fun," Shawn guessed.

"I had fun," Gus agreed. "I wouldn't necessarily want to do this all of the time, and I'm still convinced we're going to get cursed. But if this is what solving cases is going to be like… It's better than I thought it'd be."

Shawn smiled, the warmth from the sun adding to the warmth in his chest. It was concerning that Gus was willing to do things he wasn't comfortable with for his slave. But it was also so very Gus. And he'd ended up enjoying it. What else would he enjoy if it was in the name of solving a case…?

"Oh no…" Gus groaned. "You're planning something, aren't you? You look like you did right before you suggested we break into Mr. Fuller's house…"

"We shouldn't have to break into any houses this time." Unless they needed to break into houses this time.

"Correction. We will not be breaking into houses. At all." Gus' face hardened as he set his jaw. "We aren't doing anything that could get you arrested again."

The memory of a cane across his back sobered the mood and Shawn gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Gus was right; they couldn't get carried away. They couldn't forget the danger surrounding them. "Ok… But what about pretending to be someone else and getting invited in?"

Gus groaned and didn't answer. Which was fair. They wouldn't know the specifics until they were there. No matter what happened, Shawn would find the clues they needed. He was certain of it.

Except when they got there, someone else had beat them to the punch. Shawn turned the corner with Gus before stopping dead in his tracks at the blinking red and blue lights. He immediately backed up, the collar pulling tight on the back of his neck when Gus didn't follow suite.

Lassiter climbed out of his car, his eyes locked on one of the houses, and Gus stayed right where he was, frozen in shock. Shawn pulled back harder, ignoring the brief bubble of panic telling him he wasn't being good. Gus had just said that they couldn't get in trouble with the cops...

Gus' wrist pulled at the movement, and he jumped before finally scrambling back to loosen the tension on the leash. "Sorry, sorry… Why are the cops here?"

"Why would I know that?" Shawn hissed back.

"I don't know! Maybe because you always know everything!" Gus' eyes were wide as he looked around. "Ok, don't panic. We just have to find a taxi and get out of here before they know we're snooping around."

"Right. Except…" There was a clue here. He needed it to solve the case. "What if we didn't do that?"

"Shawn!" Gus snapped out in the loudest whisper possible.

"They don't have to see us! We need to know what's going on." Shawn didn't wait for an answer as he crouched down and crept back to the corner of the house they'd been arguing next to. It was fine; Gus would understand why it was important once they caught the killer.

Shawn peeked around and watched as a young woman with dark hair covering her face opened her door. Lassiter said something and she gaped at him in shock. Her voice carried down the street as she exclaimed, "She's what?!"

Lassiter answered before showing her a piece of paper. She paled like she'd seen a ghost before shaking her head quickly. Her next words were too quiet to hear, but it didn't matter when Lassiter brought out a pair of cuffs.

No. He wasn't supposed to bring out the cuffs… That wasn't what was supposed to have happened.

Gus creeped up behind him as Vanessa was cuffed and brought to the car. "I guess the tox screen came back…"

"I guess…" The air became thin as the ground tried to fall out from under him. How could the cops have found the murderer already? He was supposed to be the one to figure it out… Everything was wrong now.

Everything was wrong.

Shawn's heart pounded, pushing hope through his veins as he played the memory back. Vanessa didn't have any tells: she was probably telling the truth. She'd opened the door instead of running, she'd seemed genuinely surprised to hear the woman was dead, she'd been too surprised to fight back when she was arrested…

He knew it as surely as he knew Gus would want pizza for dinner. He was right. He had to be right.

The cops had the wrong person.