You Have the Right to Remain...Dead? Part 4

[musicalluna]

Title: You Have the Right to Remain...Dead? Part 4
Fandom: Psych
Author: MusicalLuna
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: All the regulars/None
Genre: Gen, Mystery, Suspense
Warnings: Little tiny bit of gore.
Complete: Yes
Summary: When an officer is murdered late one night while on duty, Karen forbids Shawn from getting involved, afraid he won't take the case as seriously as he should. But since when has a little thing like being banned from a case stopped Shawn Spencer?
A/N: I've been working on this story for over three months now. Up until three weeks ago, however, it was coming out really rather crappy. That was when I met my Psych fanfiction soul-mate centipede. She helped me work out all the kinks in my story and helped me realize the full-potential of this story. Thanks to her, this story is the best it can be. She was my encouragement, my grammar-nazi, and my holy-crap-I-have-to-do-that-because-that-idea-is-brilliant girl.

Thanks so much for rocking my Psych world!
Disclaimer: Psych and all related characters are unfortunately not even marginally owned by me. How tragic is that?
 

The next afternoon, Gus picked Shawn up at his house, still unclear about exactly what they were going to be doing, and what they were looking for. So he tried asking Shawn.

"What exactly are we doing today, Shawn?" he posed suspiciously.

"We’re going to offer Rebecca our condolences on the death of her husband." He sounded proud of himself.

"Shawn, you are not going to go and bother this man’s widow!" Gus exclaimed emphatically. "That’s terrible! I won’t let you do it." He glared stubbornly.

"Gus, come on! I just want to ask the woman a couple of questions. I won’t say anything inappropriate, scout’s honor." He raised his right hand, giving Gus a puppy-dog eyed look.

Gus snorted. "I would believe you if I thought you knew what inappropriate was."

"I think I know what’s inappropriate in this situation Gus," Shawn said condescendingly. Gus simply snorted again and kept driving. Shawn narrowed his eyes at him and then continued, choosing to ignore him. "All I’ve got to do is lay on the charm and she won’t even know she’s being helpful," Shawn said. "Now pull over up here. I want to get something."

"Get what?"

"That’s for me to know and you to find out."

Gus pulled into a parking space with a jerk, glaring at Shawn out of the corner of his eye. Shawn shot him a pouty face and then grinned, bounding out of the car without so much as an explanation.

"What are those?" Gus demanded warily when Shawn returned a few minutes later, laden down by an enormous bouquet of lilies and red roses.

Shawn glanced at him and said obstinately, "Well Gus, I believe they’re called ‘flowers’."

Gus glared at him as they headed out of the parking lot. "What exactly are you planning to do with them, Shawn?" he asked in an accusatory tone.

"They’re for Rebecca," Shawn explained delicately. "To express our sympathies."

"You got her flowers?" Gus said incredulously.

"Yes Gus," Shawn replied patiently. "I was under the impression that that’s what you do."

"You don’t even know this woman!" Gus exclaimed.

"So? Gus, haven’t you ever watched the news? The Pope will bring you flowers if your tragedy is well enough publicized."

"That’s an exaggeration," Gus said irritably.

"Not really," Shawn replied in an infuriatingly cocky tone.

Gus scowled and said, "I don’t approve of you conning a widow. I hope you know that."

Shawn looked scandalized. "Gus, I’m not conning, I’m helping!"

"Yeah, helping me to an early grave," he mumbled.

"I heard that."

"Good for you," Gus muttered resentfully. "You were supposed to."

Shawn sighed. "Just give me a half an hour with her and the house Gus. I just want to make sure I’m not missing any psycho-crazy-killer-wife vibes."

"Oh my gosh! Shawn, you are not going to accuse this woman of killing her husband!" Gus cried.

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Of course not. That would be stupid. She’s not going to let me snoop around their house if I accuse her of murdering her husband."

Gus’ expression was disbelieving. "I can’t believe you, sometimes, Shawn. I really can’t."

Shawn smiled. "Aw, Gus, thanks."

"That wasn’t a compliment."

"I know." He grinned.

Gus shook his head and said dully, "So where is this place?"

Shawn grinned again. "Grand and East Valerio."

It wasn’t long after that when they pulled up in front of a modest suburban home and Shawn got out of the car, grinning cheerfully. "Come on Gus, let’s do this!"

Gus sighed heavily and climbed out of the car, shutting his door and locking it behind him. He shot Shawn a warning look as they approached the front door and Shawn smiled with mock sympathy, reaching out a hand to touch Gus’ cheek. Gus swatted it away and Shawn smirked, knocking on the door.

He was just beginning to get impatient when the door opened slowly and a blonde woman who looked thoroughly exhausted, eyes red-rimmed from crying, peered out at them. She caught a glimpse of the bouquet and said quizzically, "Do I know you?"

Shawn smiled gently and said, "No, ma’am I don’t think so." He extended a friendly hand and continued, "My name is Shawn Spencer. I’m the Head Psychic at the Department. This is my assistant Gus. I knew your husband and I just wanted to bring these and offer my deepest sympathies."

Gus could barely hide his appalled expression and he jabbed Shawn in the ribs. He couldn’t say he knew him! He had never met him in his life!

Shawn managed to ignore Gus and the wife accepted the bouquet of flowers, looking slightly surprised, "Oh…well, thank you Mr. Spencer…um, would you like to come in?"

Shawn nodded. "If you don’t mind," he said apologetically.

She opened the door further, allowing them access, and they stepped inside, Shawn’s sharp eyes quickly taking in everything he could. Gus murmured his thanks and she closed the door behind them before heading towards a doorway on their left and gesturing for them to follow. In the kitchen, Shawn preformed another once over and smiled when she turned back to them, the flowers now in a vase. "I’m sorry, Mr. Spencer—"

"Shawn."

"Shawn," she conceded, setting the flowers on the table. "Did you say you were the department’s head psychic?"

He smiled and nodded, "Yes, ma’am."

She sat down at the table staring at her hands, murmuring thoughtfully, "Walter never mentioned knowing a psychic…"

Gus took the opportunity to silently hit Shawn on the arm and he swatted him away, glaring before moving to sit at the table. "It is kind of a weird thing to say to people," Shawn said with a smile.

She looked up with a weary smile and said, "Yes…especially since Walter didn’t believe in psychics."

Shawn nodded and chuckled a little, "People tell me that all the time."

She smiled shyly and said, "I’m sorry, I’ve never met any psychics before."

Shawn held up his hands. "Hey, no big. Most people haven’t."

"How did you know my husband?" She asked curiously.

"I ran into him a few times at the station. I didn’t know him that well, but…" he glanced at his hands and Gus couldn’t help admiring his acting skills. "He was a really great guy."

"Yeah," Rebecca whispered and Shawn put a hand over hers as she began tearing up.

"It’s okay…uh…"

"Oh!" She said, "Rebecca."

"Rebecca," he finished softly.

She smiled and wiped her eyes futily. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t be."

They were silent for a few moments while she collected herself until she finally broke the silence. "Thank you, I appreciate all of this…" she said, gesturing to the flowers.

Shawn smiled softly and waved off her thank you. "It’s no problem. I just want to do everything I can to help. That’s actually why I’ve come today. I wanted to ask you a few questions and see if I could walk around your house a little and try to get a few readings that might help the police with your husband’s case. I’m not actually on the case, but I’d really like to do what I can to help."

"Do you really think you might find anything?" she asked hopefully and Shawn had to hide a grimace. He wasn’t sure he would find anything, and he really didn’t want to get the woman’s hopes up.

He shrugged and said vaguely, "I really won’t know until I can get a feel for the spiritual residue in your home."

She sighed and after a moment said softly, "Okay. If it will help you find who killed my husband, then yes. Whatever you need, Shawn."

He tilted his head, a sad smile gracing his lips and said softly, "Thank you." He then leaned back slowly and looked around, "So may I…?"

"Yes, please. Go where ever you need to."

Shawn nodded and got to his feet, turning in a slow circle, his eyes closed. Rebecca watched, fascinated as he turned, the expressions on his face changing like slides. "You have two children," he finally stated quietly and she stared.

"Yes..."

"Anna is…six...? Seven…? Seven. She’s a little ballerina," he said with a smile. Both Gus and Rebecca looked impressed. "Stephen is ten and totally rocks at baseball. He’s got, what, seven trophies?"

"Shawn, wow, you really are—" she breathed and Shawn held up a hand to quiet her, his eyebrows diving to shadow his eyes.

"You were all close. Your whole family. No one from the family is responsible…" Shawn said boldly.

"No!" Rebecca exclaimed, looking appalled by the very idea.

Gus frowned. It annoyed him when Shawn made these wildly unsupported claims. It annoyed him even more that Shawn was usually right.

Shawn stuck his hands out in front of him and began wandering back out into the front hall towards the living room. A quick peek from beneath slitted eyes made sure he didn’t run into anything. "I’m being drawn this way…" he whispered dramatically. Rebecca and Gus followed, both curious to see where this was going.

In the living room, Gus realized where Shawn had gotten all of his information. He must have gotten a glimpse in here where the walls were covered in pictures of Anna in ballet gear and Stephen in baseball pictures. His trophies were all on the mantle beside a couple of wedding photos and a photo that looked like Officer Harding’s graduation photo from the Academy. Gus couldn’t help being impressed by the way Shawn’s mind worked. Not only could he remember an insane amount of detail with just seconds of reference, but he could make connections and deductions from those pieces of information that, often times, turned out to be correct.

Shawn’s eyes opened and he turned in a slow circle, taking a better look around. "Hmm…" he murmured. "I thought I had something, but… Where did Walter spend most of his time?"

"Well," Rebecca said slowly, "When he wasn’t working, he was either with the kids, or with me. So probably here."

Shawn nodded slowly. "All right. Do you mind if I take a quick run around the house? This is probably where I’m going to get the most information, but I just want to be sure."

Rebecca shook her head, "No, please. Go ahead."

Shawn bowed his head and took off to look around. He went through each of the rooms as quickly and as carefully as he could, searching for anything or anybody that might be connected to Officer Harding’s death, but in the end, he couldn’t find anything. He came back down the stairs and went to Rebecca. "Well, I don’t know if anything I’ve seen will be of any help to the investigation, but hopefully something will help them find out who did this. Gus and I will go now, and get out of your hair. Thank you for allowing me to look around your house."

Rebecca shook her head, "No, thank you for using your abilities to try to help my husband. It means a lot to me."

They said their goodbyes and Shawn shook his head at Gus as they climbed back in the car. "Well, I didn’t find anything. It’s gotta be a random killing. That’s about as boring as it gets."

"I don’t think the death of a police officer is what I would call ‘boring’, Shawn," Gus admonished.

"That’s not what I mean. It’s just not an interesting case. Oh well. More free time for us!" Shawn grinned and kicked back in his seat, folding his arms behind his head.

~ * * * ~

Shawn checked up on the case a few times after that, simply because he couldn’t "just let it go" (not that Gus would ever find out), but it was clear to him that he wouldn’t find anything of any use. It was about as simple as cases came. Some guy was out driving around in a stolen car when he got pulled over, and he panicked, killing Officer Harding. The badge thing was probably just some stupid idea he got after the fact, stealing it just to show off to his thug friends. It was terrible, but a random act, which made it almost impossible to find the perpetrator. Because of that, after just two weeks, the case began running out of leads. Three weeks, and Lassiter and O’Hara had chased every scrap of a lead they could find and they had reached a dead end. The case went cold, and it was slowly relegated to the back burner as other more pressing things began to pop up.

It was four weeks after the murder of Officer Harding when they finally caught a break. Of sorts.

"Gus! Wake up!"

Gus woke with a start, sitting up and looking around blearily. "Shawn? What are you doing in here?" he demanded.

Shawn tossed a wad of clothes at him and said urgently, "Get up, Gus! We’ve got a crime scene to go to!"

Gus groaned and flopped back down, putting a pillow over his head, muttering, "Unme mree wamoone Dwhan."

"Gus! Come on, this is big! We have to go!"

Gus pulled the pillow away from his face. "Shawn, it’s seven-thirty in the morning. Go away."

"Gus, another cop was murdered. Now get out of bed or I’ll drag you out!" he said and Gus stared at him.

"Another cop?" he whispered. "Oh my gosh."

"Yes! Now get dressed. I’ve got smoothies in the kitchen. You have ten minutes before I come back and dress you myself," he threatened.

Gus ignored him, but quickly climbed out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

~ * * * ~

The crime scene was even more of a madhouse than the last one had been. The new victim had been killed along another stretch of road in an eerily similar manner to the previous officer. There were at least half-a-dozen squad cars, parked on either end of the 70 foot stretch of road that formed the crime scene and traffic was being re-directed either way so that the road could be shut down as they processed the scene.

Gus and Shawn parked alongside the road a little ways away from the crime scene and then walked the rest of the way. When they reached the line of squad cars in front of the crime scene tape they were stopped by an officer.

"Hey! What do you think you’re doing?! This is a crime scene!" he yelled, quickly moving between them and the tape.

"Well, duh," Shawn muttered, and then exchanged a meaningful glance with Gus before looking to the officer. "Dude, didn’t they tell you I was coming?"

The officer looked baffled. This was evidently not a reaction he was used to getting when denying someone access to a crime scene. "Nnnooo…" he replied uncertainly.

Shawn sighed huffily, throwing up his hands, and Gus crossed his arms, looking annoyed. "How do you people expect me to help you if I can’t get into the crime scene? Jeez! ‘psychic’ does not mean ‘can magically pass through crime scene tape’! You know what, that’s fine. If you guys don’t want my help then—"

"All right!" the officer burst. "You can go in, but so help me, if this is just a prank or something, I will nail your ass to the floor of the jail cell I throw you in, understood?"

Shawn smiled, immediately appeased. "No problem, dude."

The officer nodded and, glancing around, lifted the tape so they could slip underneath.

Having infiltrated the crime scene, they began walking around casually, Gus keeping an eye out for Lassiter while Shawn took everything in. Shawn was careful as he looked around, knowing he might not get another opportunity to look at anything else related to the case if they got caught. The scene was set up similarly to the scene of Officer Harding’s death. The squad car of the murdered policeman sat behind a silver minivan, which Shawn would have bet his life was stolen.

There were reflectors set up around the van, and one of the back tires was flat. Evidently, who ever had killed this officer had been waiting for him. The officer’s body still lay sprawled between the two cars, nearest the van’s flat tire, the coroner bent over doing his initial evaluation. Shawn could tell, even from this distance, that the cause of death was probably the gunshot wound that had taken out a huge chunk of the man’s jaw. Evidently, the person in the minivan had gotten him to stop and look at the tire, and then when he was distracted, had fired a shot.

Shawn managed to sidle up to maybe fifteen feet away from the body when he noticed that the officer’s badge was missing. The cases were related. Unfortunately that wasn’t exactly something the police were going to miss.

"Dude!" Gus hissed suddenly, "Lassiter’s coming!"

They immediately crouched down and quickly slunk around to the other side of the downed officer’s cruiser, peeking out through the windows to see where Lassiter was headed. He strode off toward the end of the crime scene where they had entered and they relaxed a little. It was then that Shawn glanced down at the body again and it hit him like a ton of bricks.

He knew the victim.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16