PSYCH: From Beyond The Morgue (PG-13), Shawn/Lassiter.

[laytoncolt]

Shawn just wants to solve his latest case, but it isn't easy with Gus and Henry meddling in his love life, especially considering his love life consists of one bored workaholic detective on enforced leave.



back to part one

Gus was waiting at the car when Shawn came out of the morgue. He had his arms crossed, and Shawn didn't think he looked very happy. "Okay, what now?" he demanded, as he pulled open the passenger side door. "Are you still upset that I arranged a slumber party with a bunch of murder suspects?"

"What happened to my candy, Shawn?" Gus demanded. "You know I like to have Red Vines in the glove box for when I'm stressed, and they're all gone."

"I donated them to a good cause," Shawn said. Gus did not look appeased, so Shawn let out a sound of frustration and turned to face him. "Look, if we survive the night, I will you buy more Red Vines, does that make you feel better?"

"No it doesn't make me feel better!" Gus snapped. "What do you mean if we survive the night?"

"Did I say that part out loud?" Shawn asked with a frown. "I meant, after we survive the night, obviously."

Gus glared at him some more, but got into the driver's seat in a huff. "You know, what's the point of you sleeping with some gun-toting detective if you're not going to keep him around for protection?"

"Guns are generally not the kind of protection I'm concerned with when it comes to Lassiter," Shawn said. "He's my boyfriend, not my bodyguard."

"I'm just saying," Gus said. "I thought he was going to help on this case? Maybe you should go with him. I could do research."

"I've got Lassiter doing the research," Shawn protested.

"You need to learn the proper way to delegate, Shawn," Gus snapped. "You take the man with the gun as backup. You send me to do the research so that I don't get killed."

"If that's what you want," Shawn said easily. "You're being really grown-up about this, I'm impressed, Gus, really I am. I thought you might get a little self-conscious that Lassiter was going to take your place as my partner, but if I'd known you'd be this obliging, I would have suggested that I go with him. In fact, maybe I'll just-"

As soon as Shawn went for his cellphone, Gus ripped it out of his hands. "That's not what I meant," he snapped. "I'm your partner, not Lassiter."

"Exactly," Shawn said, taking the phone back. "You're my partner. So let's go solve a murder, what do you say?"

"Fine," Gus said, and started the car. "But you owe me three packs of Red Vines."

"You got it, buddy," Shawn said.

"Where is this place anyway?" Gus asked.

"Padaro Lane," Shawn said, unfolding the address that Eveline had written down for him.

"Padaro Lane?" Gus echoed disbelievingly. "Are you serious?"

"Only very rarely," Shawn said. "But yes, that's what it says."

Gus was looking more at ease. "Okay, okay, that's okay then," he said. "Those places are mansions, Shawn, very high end. I bet there's nothing creepy about this place at all."

"That's the spirit," Shawn said. "Pun entirely intended."

"What pun?" Gus asked.

"Spirit," Shawn said. "You know like-nevermind, the moment is gone. Turn here."

Gus made the turn with a frown. "How do you even know where Padaro Lane is?" he demanded.

"I was a live in manny here for like three weeks once," Shawn said.

"No way," Gus said.

"Okay, so it was three days," Shawn said. "How was I supposed to know it's a bad idea to let kids stay up all night watching the Twilight Zone?"

"Common sense?" Gus asked.

"You know my sense isn't common, Gus," Shawn said.

"I can't believe people actually trusted you with kids," Gus said.

"Kids love me," Shawn said. "Little Skylar still writes. He's in junior high now, can you believe it? They grow up so fast."

Gus looked disturbed. "Well, whatever. Is this place close or what?"

"Turn right," Shawn said, without looking up. "About ten minutes down this road you're going to see a giant stone wall that looks fit for Camelot."

Shawn leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. He knew they had arrived when he heard Gus's startled intake of breath. "I want to live here, Shawn," Gus said.

Shawn leaned forward, running his eyes over the mansions. They looked more like museums. He snorted. "Please, they're not all they're cut out to be," he said.

"How would you know?" Gus demanded.

"I lived here for three days, Gus, pay attention," Shawn said. "It was too big. I kept getting lost. Everyone communicated by intercom. Give me a little house by the beach any day."

"Then why did you want to stay here so bad?" Gus asked.

"Because I think our killer is someone that lives there," Shawn said. "We need to see them there together. We need to see how they interact. I need to touch things. Look in closets. The usual. The house is bigger, the M.O. remains the same."

"I don't see why we have to spend the whole night there for that," Gus protested.

"Because the house is bigger, I don't know how long we'll need." Shawn pointed at one of the houses. "There, that's the one."

Gus eyed it appreciatively. There was a large steel gate closing off the driveway, painted black with gold leaves wound around the spires. Gus leaned forward to hit the intercom, and the gate started opening on its own before he could touch it. He turned to glare at Shawn. "That gate is opening on its own."

"That's cause it's automatic," Shawn said, and pointed to a security camera. "And someone's probably waiting for us."

Gus carefully drove up the driveway. The house was bigger than the Santa Barbara police station, and three stories at least. The exterior consisted of clean grey cobblestones, with vines crawling up the sides. "This doesn't look so bad," Gus said, cheering up a little as he got out of the car. "Yeah. This place definitely isn't haunted. It's properly landscaped and everything."

Shawn followed Gus out of the car, and was about to agree when something made him look up. The fluffy white standard issue Santa Barbara clouds were growing darker by the minute, and it wasn't just a result of the lowering sun. Shawn kept an eye on Gus out of the corner of his eye, hoping he didn't notice, as he led the way up the front steps.

Gus reached out to swing the brass door knocker. It was molded to look like some kind of monster with a mustache, or possibly just someone really old. As it swung back to knock against the door, the sky opened, raining down on them in sudden torrents. Gus pulled his hand away from the knocker in disbelief.

"Okay, so that's a little weird," Shawn admitted. "But it doesn't mean anything."

The door was pulled open, a backlit figure staring down at them in distain. The man was wearing an old tuxedo, bow tie resting at his throat. He looked to be well over six feet tall, thin as a rail, and pushing a hundred at least. Shawn watched him, expecting him to intone the words 'you rang?'

Gus looked frozen in place, but Shawn supposed that was better than running away. "You must be Mr. Spencer and Mr. Guster," the man said, but it was a quiet, unassuming kind of voice, and it failed to meet Shawn's expectations.

"Yes, we are," Shawn said. "And we appear to be getting wet."

"Of course, sirs, come in," the man said, stepping out of the way. "Aldis Matheus the Seventh, at your service."

"Seventh, huh?" Shawn asked, running a hand through his hair, droplets raining down onto the tile floor of the entryway. "How does that work, exactly, you just keep naming your kids the same thing until you run out of numbers?"

"I don't have any children of my own, sir, I have dedicated my life to the Graves," he said. "I am the last Aldis Matheus."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Shawn said. "Do you mind if I call you Alfred?"

"I do, sir," Aldis said. "If you will excuse me I will find Mrs. Graves. Please wait here."

Shawn nodded vaguely as Aldis left and then started to wander off. Gus reached out to grab him. "He said to wait here, Shawn," Gus said.

"He said please, please implies suggestion," Shawn said, trying to pull away, but Gus had a death grip on him. "Dude, chill."

"You don't think any of this is at all odd?" Gus demanded. "We're having a storm, Shawn, in Santa Barbara, in August, and the butler looks like a cousin of the Addams Family."

"Don't be so melodramatic, it's nearly September, and anyway, it's just a little rain, it hardly qualifies as a storm," Shawn told him.

There was a large crash as a branch slammed into a window, rain pounding against it. "Okay, so maybe it's a little windy, too," Shawn said.

"Do you think it's raining everywhere, or just at this house?" Gus asked nervously.

"Can you even hear yourself?" Shawn asked.

"I'm so glad you're both here!"

Shawn looked up at the voice. Eveline was at the top of the stairs, carefully making her way down. Shawn noticed the way she was holding onto the rail so tight her knuckles were white. She'd traded the boots she had on earlier for a pair of black ballet flats, and he frowned as he noticed the red line across her right ankle, and the fainter, matching mark on her left.

"Please," she said, "come with me. Let's have a drink."

Eveline led them to a kind of hybrid office and library, and walked to a wet bar in the corner. "What'll you boys have?" she asked.

"We don't drink on the job," Gus said quickly. "But we'll have a couple Shirley Temples if you have some Grenadine."

"Shirley Temples?" Shawn echoed. "Seriously? When did you turn into a ten year old girl?"

"Make that two Roy Rogers instead," Gus said, before turning to Shawn. "Is that better?"

"Not significantly," Shawn said.

Eveline looked bemused, but she nodded. "Coming right up," she said. She mixed the drinks and then handed one to each of them.

Shawn bit at the straw for a minute before sucking up half the drink all at once. "This is pretty good," he admitted.

"You got that right," Gus said enthusiastically. "This is some Grade A Grenadine."

Eveline sat down in armchair, holding a whiskey for herself. "Crazy weather, isn't it?"

Gus nodded. "Does it rain . . . here . . . a lot?" he asked haltingly.

"In Santa Barbara? Not usually," she said. "At least not in the summer. Are you new here, Mr. Guster?"

"Actually he's lived here all his life," Shawn said distractedly, as he walked over to the large fireplace at the back wall. There was a portrait hanging above it of a beautiful young girl. She was giving a kind of wry half smile, a spark in her blue eyes. Her blonde hair had been curled to make her look like she was a starlet from the twenties, but the portrait was only dated 1994.

"That was Harvey's sister," Eveline told him, when she saw what had drawn his attention. "She died very young, before Harvey and I met. I don't think he ever quite got over it."

Shawn stared at the portrait, eyes narrowing. Someone had scratched a single word across the bottommost edge in very small print, from one end to the other, over and over. Holly Holly Holly Holly Holly. After a moment, he turned away.

"Her name was Holly," Shawn said.

"Yes, it was," Eveline said, seeming impressed. She leaned forward. "I would have liked to have met her, but she was very troubled. He didn't like to talk about it, but I always had the impression she had taken her own life."

"When did you meet Harvey?" Shawn asked.

"Oh, my, at least, fifteen years ago, now, I guess?" she said. "It's so hard to recall. It's so painful to think about."

"But you don't miss him, of course," Shawn said. Gus spun to glare at him, but Eveline just shrugged.

"I won't lie, Harvey was a horrible man. He cared for nothing but himself, and I was just the trophy wife. Don't be surprised," she said, noting their expressions at the blunt admission. "I have no illusions about what I was. But in my defense I was only twenty when I met him, I had no idea what I was getting in to."

"Why is it that you think Harvey would want to kill you?" Shawn asked.

"You're probably wondering how I got these bruises," she said, looking up.

"I wasn't actually, I know you fell down the stairs," Shawn said.

Eveline raised an eyebrow. "You are worth every penny, Mr. Spencer," she said. "That's very close to the truth, only I didn't fall, I was pushed. I was very disoriented right after, but I recall hearing someone whispering, someone saying I had to die too. I even felt the hand at my throat."

"And you think it was your husband?" Shawn asked.

"I know how it sounds," she said. "But I don't really feel like he's gone. Things go missing, things that I get rid of reappear. My pearl earrings, they're nowhere to be found, but Harvey's cufflinks, the ones I donated to charity, they appeared back on my dresser just last week. If anyone would be capable of sticking around after death just to make my life miserable, it would be Harvey. He always told me I wouldn't ever be rid of him."

Shawn nodded. "I think we should get to work, Eveline," he said. "It's getting late, and whatever spirits may be here, they should be showing soon."

Eveline got to her feet. "What do you need me to do?" she asked. "How can I help?"

"All we need you to do is to go get some well deserved sleep," Shawn said. "We're going to take care of everything."

Eveline smiled at him tiredly. "Thank you, both of you," she said, before turning to the intercom and activating it. "Aldis? Can you please come show our guests their rooms?"

"What did I tell you?" Shawn whispered. "It's all intercoms all the time. It's like rich people haven't even heard of phones."

"Goodnight gentleman," Eveline said. "If you need anything, anything at all, Aldis and Sani are both at your disposal, as am I."

Eveline left the room to head back up the stairs, and Shawn followed her out of the room. Aldis was coming from another hall, his expressionless face aimed about three inches to the side of them at all times. "If you would please follow me," he said.

Shawn started to step forward when The Divinyls started singing 'I Touch Myself' from somewhere in the region of his pants. Gus's eyes had widened in horror, and Shawn scrambled to grab his cell phone while Aldis looked on indifferently.

"I have to take this call," Shawn said, with as much dignity as he could muster. "It sounds important." He stepped away from Aldis and Gus, heading back towards the front door. He saw the monitor that had been set up beside the door, showing the front gate. There was a car parked right outside it.

"Lassie?" Shawn said, answering the call.

"Where are you?" Lassiter demanded.

"I'm still at Eveline's," Shawn said. "But then you know that, because you're parked outside her front gate staring at Gus's car."

"Seriously, how do you do that?" Lassiter demanded.

"Give a wave," Shawn said. "I can see you on the security monitor."

Lassiter heaved a sigh. "We had plans tonight, you know," he said.

"We can meet up tomorrow. Eveline needs us here," Shawn said. "We're ghost hunting. Well, Gus is ghost hunting. Mostly I'm here for the ridiculously opulent surroundings and the endless supply of Roy Rogers."

"Why didn't you tell me you were planning this?" Lassiter demanded.

"You would have tried to stop me," Shawn said easily.

"I wouldn't have tried, I would have stopped you," Lassiter said.

"Then why are you surprised I didn't tell you?" Shawn asked.

"Get out of there right now, Spencer," he said. "You're the one that told me you think someone's really trying to kill her."

"Someone is," Shawn said. "Which is why Gus and I are acting as her bodyguards."

"Oh, great, so it'll end up a double homicide instead," Lassiter snapped.

"Not to get bogged down with petty details, but there's three of us," Shawn said. "Wouldn't that be a triple homicide?"

"No, Guster will probably be fine, because I expect he's going to run at the first sign of trouble," Lassiter said. "He's the only one of you with sense."

"Touché," Shawn said. "I promise I'll be careful."

"Damn it, Spencer," Lassiter said. "Why do you have to do this?"

"Well, who else is there?" Shawn asked.

"Fine," Lassiter snapped. "But you need anything, you call me, I'll come right there."

"Okay, but I really don't think you've thought this through. Your back is going to give you problems all week if you stay in that car all night."

"What? How did you know I was going to stay here-"

"Please, don't insult me," Shawn said. "I left some snacks for you in the glove box. Don't fill up on Red Vines."

Shawn hung up and turned back towards Gus and Aldis. Aldis remained unmoved, but Gus was definitely glaring at him. "If you are ready, sir?" Aldis said.

"Call me Shawn, Alfred," he said. "This 'sir' stuff kind of freaks me out."

"Of course, sir," Aldis said, and turned to lead them up the stairs. Shawn and Gus followed him up, and Shawn examined the steps carefully. He saw a few drops of blood around the middle, and when they reached the second floor, he noticed there was a small hole on either side of the top step, like someone had set up a tripwire with a pair of tacks.

"The lights are all on motion sensors," Aldis told them, just as the hallway in front of them started lighting up one segment at a time. "They will come on and go off on their own."

"That's amazing," Gus said, waving his hand at the wall experimentally. "I can't even see them!"

"They're in the crown molding," Shawn said distractedly.

Aldis stopped halfway down the massive hallway. He pointed down the rest of the way, where Shawn could just make out a pair of huge black double doors. "That is where Mrs. Graves sleeps," he said, before pointing to the two doors on each side of the hallway where they had stopped. "These rooms will be yours. Use the intercom if you need anything."

Aldis disappeared back down the hall, the lights flickering on and off after him as he went. "Okay, I get first pick of the rooms," Gus said.

"You can have them both if you want, we're not going to be sleeping, Gus," Shawn said. "We're here to investigate."

"I can't stay up all night, Shawn," Gus protested. "I need a good six hours at least. You know I get sleepy."

"Come on, tough it out, I'll make you another Roy Rogers," Shawn said. "And hey, guess what? I was right, the murderer is someone in the house."

"How can you be sure?" Gus demanded. "We just got here."

"Because someone had a tripwire set up on the stairs, that's why Eveline fell down them," Shawn said. "Oh, oh! Dude, I think the butler did it!"

"He's like a hundred and eighty five," Gus said.

"Don't be an ageist," Shawn said.

"How could someone fall down the stairs because of a tripwire and not even notice?" Gus demanded.

"Same way someone could fall off a float in a pool and not wake up," Shawn said. "She takes Ambien when she sleeps. Hears a noise, comes to investigate, but she's not completely awake. Next thing she knows, she's on the ground at the bottom of them with someone hovering over her."

"Why wouldn't they have finished her off?" Gus demanded. "They had her alone."

"Same reason they set a tripwire on the stairs instead of pushing her," Shawn said. "So they wouldn’t have to do it themselves. Someone tried to strangle her, Gus, but they couldn't do it. They probably don't even think they're murdering anyone. In their mind, they're just arranging accidents."

"So they're psychotic as well, that's good to know," Gus said stiffly. "I'll be leaving now."

Shawn waved a hand, turning on the lights in the hall behind them. "Oh, look at the pretty lights, Gus! Don't you want to go exploring in the house, and watch them come on?"

"You seriously think that's going to tempt me?" Gus demanded.

"Honestly I'm not sure what to do with you anymore," Shawn said. "I know I'm supposed to be the crazy one, but it's like you're trying to beat twenty years of my craziness all in one night. I think your chances are good, by the way."

"I'm not crazy for being nervous around a murderer, Shawn!" Gus snapped. "You're the one that's crazy for not being worried!"

"Yeah, but you think the murderer is Casper," Shawn protested.

"Everyone knows Casper was a friendly ghost," Gus said. "I'm talking about the spirit of Harvey Graves."

There was a flash of white light behind Gus, and Shawn went very still, hoping he hadn't noticed. "Was that lightening?" Gus demanded.

"It's just a faulty motion sensor, probably, don't be ridiculous," Shawn said, which was right about when the thunder started.

"I'm getting out of here, Shawn!" Gus said. "Don't you ever watch horror movies? We're expendable. Everyone knows it's only the pretty girl that lives. Eveline'll probably be just fine."

"Okay, I'll give you that the freak storm is a little weird, Gus, but it's just bad luck," Shawn said. "You know what they say about superstition, it makes an ass out of you and me."

"That's assume," Gus said. "Because it's Ass-U-Me."

"Huh," Shawn said. "That does make more sense, but regardless, I've heard it both ways!"

"You have not!" Gus protested.

"Okay, fine, but that's why I need you, Gus! You have like these whole hidden depths of trivial information. You pay attention to the stuff that I don't."

Gus seemed hesitant. "Okay, but my usual rules apply."

"No entering a room first, or last, no searching for fuse boxes and you want a weapon if I'm going to leave you alone," Shawn said. "Of course you understand that there being only two of us, you will actually have to decide whether you want to enter the room first or last, and the only weapon I have is this little green toy soldier that I found in my pocket."

Shawn held the toy soldier out. Gus eyed it dubiously for a moment and then snatched it out of Shawn's hands. "We'll alternate. You go first, then I'll go first."

"Deal," Shawn said. He looked back towards Eveline's room. "What time is it?"

"It's like nine forty five," Gus said.

"I bet the maid's still awake," Shawn said. "We need to talk with her."

"I'll find us an intercom," Gus said.

"Forget the intercom, Gus," Shawn said. "We need to see her, face to face, I need to judge her reactions to my questions, come on."

"How do you know where to go?" Gus asked him.

"What makes you think I know where I'm going?" he asked. "Our job is to snoop around. It's better this way, we might stumble on something that breaks this whole case."

"Or we could get lost, never to be heard from again," Gus said.

"Because that happens so often in the wealthy suburbs of Santa Barbara," Shawn said. "People go missing in their houses all the time."

"You're the one that said it was easy to get lost!" he protested.

"Yeah, but I didn't mean to imply I got stranded in their billiard room and started to refer to the cue ball as Wilson," he said. "You're fine, stop obsessing. Do you have any samples of anti-anxiety meds?"

"I'm not taking drugs, Shawn," Gus snapped.

"I was going to suggest you give them to me," Shawn said. "You're kind of stressing me out." He started down the stairway. There were little blue lights at the edge of the stairs like the kind they had in movie theaters, and they came on each time they went to the next step.

"I'm telling you, this place is spooky, Shawn, I don't like it," Gus snapped.

"It isn't spooky, this is technology, come on, Gus, you love this stuff," Shawn protested. "We should totally get motion sensor lights for the office."

"Yeah, we can put them up where you had the zip line that lasted all of ten days," Gus said.

"I had to take it down, you know that. I was nearly decapitated!" Shawn said.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and the entryway lights came on by themselves. Gus grabbed Shawn's sleeve to tug him to the wall across from the stairs. "It's a map!" he said.

Shawn looked at the wall. It was a map of the house, one of those kinds that had the little red arrow that said 'you are here.' "Is this place for real?" Shawn asked. "When did we end up at Arden Fair?"

"Quiet, Shawn," Gus said. "Look for the exit!"

"I think the exit is the giant front door right there," Shawn said, pointing a few feet away. "No, what we want is the kitchen."

"I want to keep the exit in sight, Shawn!" Gus said. "And it's almost ten at night, what would she be doing in the kitchen?"

"Eveline said she was very upset about Harvey's death," Shawn said. "I doubt she'd want to be locked away alone in her room, and there's probably not that many areas in the house open to her."

"It looks like it's right down that hall. You're going first," he said, shoving Shawn in front of him.

"Okay, but that means you have to go last," Shawn said.

"Don't remind me!" he snapped. "If I die, Shawn, I'm going to haunt you, you know that, right?"

"Like Patrick Swayze in Ghost?" Shawn asked.

"Like Kathleen Mackey in Gothika," Gus said.

"That's a little obscure, I would have gone with the creepy girl from The Ring, personally," Shawn said. "You'd get more widespread recognition."

"You're the only one here," Gus said. "And you've seen Gothika like eighty times."

"Can you blame me, Gus?" Shawn said. "Halle Berry, wet. Enough said."

"You know that's right," Gus agreed. "But I didn't think Halle Berry was your type."

"Well, it's got Robert Downey Jr., too. I'm an equal opportunity ogle-er," Shawn said.

"It's down here," Gus said, grabbing Shawn to keep him in front of him like a shield. "You go first."

"I thought we were alternating?" Shawn said.

"I changed my mind!" Gus said.

Shawn rolled his eyes and pushed his way into the kitchen. The lights inside were already on, and Shawn scanned the room. There were bowls of chocolate pudding covering almost every surface, and a young woman in her early twenties was sitting cross-legged on the only empty space left on the counter, stirring like mad. She looked up when they walked in, and her eyes were a little wild.

Shawn pulled to a stop, and Gus slammed into his back. "Sani, right?" Shawn said cautiously. "Shawn Spencer. This is my partner Winston Zeddmore. Eveline called us in to help."

Sani had her long brown hair pulled back in a bun, but most of it had come loose to fall around her face, and she had cocoa powder down the front of her dress and in a streak across her forehead. "Oh, hi!" she said, smiling brightly. "Yes, I'm Sani. Do you want some pudding?"

Shawn glanced around. "Are you sure there's enough?" he asked dryly.

"Oh, plenty! I can't stop making it, I've been making it since three o'clock," she said. "It makes me feel better. Please, sit down!"

Gus and Shawn sat down at the barstools at the counter, and Sani went to the cupboard to pull down two bowls. She dished them up the chocolate pudding before climbing back up to sit on the counter. "I'm glad you're here," she said. "You're some kind of psychic, right? I think I read about you in the papers, except I thought your partner was Bruton Gaster?"

"It's Burton Guster," Gus said quickly.

"Oh, well, what happened to him?" she asked.

"We don't like to talk about that," Shawn told her, before Gus could intercede. "It's just me and Winston here now."

"So what are you here to do exactly?" Sani asked.

"We're looking into Harvey's death, as well as the attempts on Eveline's life," Shawn said. "Would you mind answering a few questions for us?"

"Sure," she said. "I'm grateful for the company, actually." She pulled the wooden spoon from the bowl and absentmindedly started licking the pudding off. Gus made a face and pushed his own bowl away from him.

Shawn brought a hand to his head. "I'm sensing a deep connection between you and Harvey," he said. "He and his wife have separate rooms, I can see you going into his room late at night-"

"I brought him tea sometimes," Sani said, leaning forward. "Is that what you see?"

"No, not exactly," Shawn said, his train of thought derailing. "You were…yes, I see it now! You were sleeping with him."

"Ew, gross," she said, pushing away from him. "He was like seventy-five."

"He was fifty-one," Gus said.

"Well, that's kind of the same thing, isn't it?" she asked. "I wouldn't ever have slept with him. Not for a million dollars."

"But Eveline told us how upset you were," Shawn protested.

Sani froze, her hand tightly gripping the spoon. "I'd never found a dead body before, that's all, no one likes to see a dead body."

"She's got a point there," Gus said.

"But that's not what it was," Shawn said. "You're hiding something."

"I saw her," Sani said after a moment. "I saw her standing over the body."

"Eveline?" Gus asked, getting to his feet.

Sani shook her head. "No, the ghost," Sani said. "She haunts this place. She wants to kill us all."

"I thought Harvey Graves was the ghost?" Shawn asked.

"That's what Mrs. Graves says, but she's wrong," Sani said. "This ghost has been here since I started working here, but they wouldn't ever believe me. Mr. Graves was the first victim, that's all. I saw her with my own eyes."

"Why didn't you tell anyone this?" Gus asked. "If you saw the murderer-"

"But I didn't, Mr. Zeddmore, what I saw was a ghost, that's the whole problem," Sani said. "She was standing there looking down at the body, but it was dark, she was wearing this torn white dress. I looked away for a second and when I looked back she was gone. It wasn't the first time I saw her, you understand. I've seen her before. This is a mad place. I'm leaving as soon as I find somewhere else."

Shawn got to his feet with a frown. "Well thank you for your help, Sani," he said. "If we have any more questions-"

"You know where to find me," she said. "I'm going to start making some butterscotch pudding now. I don't have enough of that."

"Right. Well, you have fun with that," Shawn said, before tugging Gus back out into the hall.

Gus looked disturbed. "Do I sound like that?" he asked. "I mean, I don't act like that right?"

"Not at all," Shawn said easily. "She's handling things much better than you."

Gus glared at him. "You can joke, but I think you owe me an apology, don't you?"

"For what?" Shawn asked.

"It is a ghost, after all," Gus said.

"That's all you took away from that conversation?" Shawn asked. "All this does is take Sani off my suspects list. So it's back to the butler. Yes. The butler did it."

"Stop saying that," Gus said. "You just like saying 'the butler did it.' You haven't got any evidence."

"Since when have I needed evidence to leap to a conclusion?" Shawn demanded.

"I think you should think real hard about what she told us, because if she's right we could be dealing with more than one ghost. This is like a supernatural epicenter," Gus said. "Oh my god, maybe we're on a Hellmouth!"

"That's it, I'm changing the parental controls on your television," Shawn said. "You're no longer allowed to watch anything but cartoons. Wait. Scratch that. I wouldn't want you to start drawing tunnels on walls and then running into them. Let's just cut out the TV altogether."

"You need to take this seriously, Shawn," Gus snapped.

"You're the one comparing our situation to that of the residents of Sunnydale, and I'm not taking this seriously?" Shawn asked. Gus opened his mouth to protest, and Shawn's phone started ringing again, blaring out when I feel down, I want you above me-

Gus grabbed Shawn's phone before he could answer it and looked down at the caller ID. "Lassiter? This is the ringtone you have for Lassiter?"

"Well, it was hardly going to be Henry, was it?" Shawn demanded, trying to grab his phone back. "This could be important, Gus! Lassie's outside watching the place."

"Lassiter's here?" Gus demanded. "What the hell, Shawn, what happened to all that, we're partners, Gus, it's you and me, Gus?"

"Nothing has changed, it's just us in here, just like old times," Shawn said.

"No, it's not," Gus snapped. "And I can't believe you made your Lassiter ringtone I Touch Myself. Could you be more obvious? And you thought your dad wasn't going to find out?"

"But I've had this ringtone for Lassie for months!" Shawn protested. "You're the only one that thinks there's some hidden meaning to it."

"The meaning's not exactly hidden," Gus snapped. "That's my whole point."

"Okay, come on then," Shawn said. "Let's have this out."

"Have what out?" Gus demanded.

"You've been acting strangely since I told you Lassie and I were together," Shawn snapped.

"This has nothing to do with that, I always act strangely," Gus protested hotly. Gus and Shawn both paused as they replayed what he had said. "That's not what I meant."

"I know you, Gus, and you've always been the one that's in a relationship," Shawn said. "It's always been me that ends up the third wheel. And you can't stand it the other way around, can you?"

"Shawn-"

"You know what, whatever, stay here, get your six hours of sleep, I don't care," Shawn said, grabbing his phone from him. He glanced down at it, but Lassiter had given up and the screen announced one missed call. "I'm going to go investigate a murder."

"Shawn!" Gus snapped, but Shawn ignored him and started down the hall.

He thought about calling Lassiter back, but he wanted a moment to clear his head. He looked behind him, but Gus hadn't followed him. Gus had probably taken this as an opportunity to get in his car and leave Shawn here. Shawn didn't know if he'd blame for that or not.

The lights kept coming on as he went down the hall, but the ones behind him kept going back out. There were portraits framed on the walls of both sides, old paintings of people that all had the last name of Graves. Shawn thought it strange that so far he hadn't come across a single door.

He bit his lip, and closed his eyes, picturing the map of the house that Gus had found in his mind. He overlaid what he knew of the house over the map, and realized that this hall wasn't on it.

One of the lights snapped on in the hall about twenty feet down from him, and Shawn squinted down to see what had set it off. A woman in a torn white dress was standing there half lit, blonde hair loose and falling down to cover most of her face.

Shawn swallowed and then stepped forward cautiously. "Hello?" he said quietly. She turned the corner the moment he spoke, and Shawn took off running after her. "Hey, wait!"

Before Shawn could reach her the light snapped back off. He turned the corner to follow her, but that whole hallway was dark and he couldn't make anything out. He kept running after her anyway, and he was halfway down the hall when he realized it was pitch black-none of the motion sensor lights had activated in this hallway, and all the ones he'd left behind had gone out.

Shawn leaned down with his hands on his knees to catch his breath, and then cautiously started heading back. He felt his way along the hall, and pulled out his cellphone, using the light from the display screen to light the way. Then he dialed Lassiter.

"Shawn, where the hell are you?" Lassiter yelled. "I've been trying to call you."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Shawn said. "Gus and I were fighting."

"Where are you? What's going on?" Lassiter asked.

"Nothing, I'm fine," Shawn said. "Lassie, I need to know how Harvey's sister died."

"Harvey Graves didn't have a sister," Lassiter said.

"Holly Graves," Shawn said. "You didn't find anything on a Holly? A death? It would have been about fifteen years ago."

"Sorry, Shawn, no," Lassiter said. "I went through this guy's whole life. He was definitely an only child. Why do you ask?"

"Because I just saw her," Shawn said dazedly, dropping his hand with the phone down at his side as he ended the call.

He took a deep breath, putting one hand on the wall. The LCD screen of his phone was only lighting a small circular area around him, spanning all of half a foot, and his battery was flickering, clutching desperately to its last bar.

He was going to have to go back for reinforcements. A flashlight and maybe Sani, because she would probably be better back-up than Gus.

As though summoned by thought, Gus appeared at the end of the hall, backlit like some kind of avenging angel, arms crossed and glaring. "What the hell are you doing down there in the dark, Shawn?" he snapped.

Shawn was at a loss how to respond, having not realized that the next working motion sensor light was all of three feet in front of him. "I'm investigating," he said defensively, "which is more than can be said of you."

Shawn's cellphone light flickered and went out as the battery finally gave out, and he snapped it shut and stuck it in his pocket before walking over to join Gus.

"I came all the way down this spooky hallway to find you," Gus snapped. "You're the one that flounced off in a huff."

"I do not flounce," Shawn said. "I wouldn't even know how to flounce. Sometimes I skip, but only rarely. I might do a little hopscotch, a little shimmy, but never a flounce."

"You flounced, Shawn," Gus said firmly. "What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" Shawn demanded. "What's wrong with you? Why does my relationship with Lassiter bother you so much?"

"I'm not doing this with you again," Gus said.

"No, you don't get to do that," Shawn said. "Just tell me what-"

"It's because he's a guy!" Gus shouted.

Shawn looked like he'd been struck. "Wow, really? I expect better of you, Gus. And anyway, you should be the last person to judge anyone's sexuality. 95% of your wardrobe is pastel."

"No, it's not-" Gus looked frustrated. "I don't care that he's a guy. It's just that, if you just had a girlfriend, she'd be dragging you to chick flicks and the opera, and you'd have to come with me to do guy stuff. But it's Lassiter. So you don't need me to do guy stuff anymore."

"Is that what you're worried about, really?" Shawn asked. "Gus, that's ridiculous! Lassiter wants me to do stuff with him that I don't want to all the time! He watches the History Channel and movies about the old west, and he wants me to go with him to a museum! You know how I feel about museums after I saw that movie. I don't even go visit Zippy anymore."

"Okay, sidebar," Gus said. "How is it that you don't believe in ghosts, but you still think Night at the Museum was a documentary?"

"I know it's not a documentary, Gus, I am aware that Owen Wilson is life size," Shawn said. "But it's a scary movie! Little plastic figures that come to life, and have swords, and guns! It was like Chucky all over again! Museums are creepy! You should know, you won't even go in the Egyptian room."

"That's completely different!" Gus protested. "My concerns are entirely legitimate."

"Whatever, un-sidebar," Shawn said. "The point here is that you don't have anything to worry about! We can still do guy stuff together. We can even still do chick stuff together. I know how much you're looking forward to All About Steve."

"That isn't a chick movie, Shawn!" Gus said. "Lots of guys want to see that movie."

Shawn thought about it. "No, I'm pretty sure it's just you, but I'll go with you anyway. This is what I'm saying-we're best friends, Gus, that isn't going to change."

"Do you mean that?" Gus demanded.

"Of course!" Shawn said. "You're like family, Gus. And you can't get rid of family. My father is proof of that."

Gus broke out into a grin and lunged forward, grabbing Shawn in fierce tackle hug. "I am happy for you," he said. "I think you're nuts for dating Lassiter, but I just want you to be happy, so if you're happy, I'm happy."

"Right now I'm not so much happy as about to die of asphyxiation. Want to let up a little?" Shawn said, and Gus let him go, stepping back sheepishly.

"What are you two doing here?" a hoarse voice demanded. Shawn and Gus spun around to see the butler standing there, still in his tuxedo, holding a candle. "This area is off limits. You're to stay away from the East Wing."

Shawn narrowed his eyes, taking a step back and bumping into Gus. "No worries," he said. "We were lost. We're heading back right now."

"See that you do," Aldis said, before turning and heading down the hall, the candlelight floating ahead of him.

"Okay, maybe you're right, maybe he did do it," Gus said. "He's creeping me right out. Let's go back, Shawn."

"We can't head back now," Shawn protested.

"The lights are broken in this hallway or something, we'll come back in the morning," Gus said.

"You know I can't stand it when people tell me not to go somewhere," Shawn said. "It's kind of like the opposite of when people tell me to go somewhere."

"It's exactly the opposite of that," Gus said.

"No, I mean, if someone tells me to do something, I don't want to, and if they tell me not to, I want to," Shawn said.

"I don't want you to give me your Nintendo DS," Gus said.

Shawn bit the inside of his cheek in thought. "I probably shouldn't have told you that about myself."

"I don't want you to go back where it's bright and warm and safe," Gus said.

"Oh, stop it," Shawn said. "It doesn't count when you do it anyway. We've got to go find out what he's hiding."

"I'm not going down there, Shawn," he said.

"Take out your cellphone," Shawn said. "We can use the light on it. It'll be fine."

"Use yours," Gus said.

"Mine died, come on, Gus! This could break the whole case wide open," Shawn said. "Let's go."

"I don't know why I keep letting myself get talked into these things," Gus said, as he pulled out his cellphone and turned on the display light. He looked down the hallway with narrowed eyes, and Shawn gave him a push to start him moving. "What if the butler is hiding there in wait? What if he is the killer?"

"Don't worry about him," Shawn said. "It's not him we're looking for. It's Holly. I may have seen her wandering around creepily."

"Holly?" Gus said. "The dead sister? You think there is a ghost now? Oh my god. If even you believe it, then there really is a ghost. We need salt. We need an EMF. We need-"

"I did not see a ghost," Shawn interrupted. "I saw a person that is supposed to be dead but obviously isn't dead because I saw them."

"You saw a ghost," Gus said. "You're taking me down a dark hallway looking for a ghost? Have you gone mad?"

"She's only dead allegedly," Shawn said, and gave Gus another push. The lights behind them had automatically turned off again, a power-saving technique that Gus had appreciated at first but was starting to resent. The light from his cellphone did not extend very far.

"These pictures are weird," Gus said, eyeing the portraits that lined the hall. "I feel like I'm taking the Haunted Mansion tour at Disneyland."

"That's good, go to a happy place," Shawn said.

"I was terrified on that tour, Shawn," Gus said.

"You probably shouldn't admit to that," he said. "Five-year-olds have gone on that tour and not been impressed."

"That's not true, that-" Gus was cut off abruptly as Shawn put a hand over his mouth and covered the light on his cellphone. They saw Aldis, still holding his candle, come out from a door on the left side of the hall, before walking across and entering through another door on the right.

There was a window at the end of the hall, and another flash of lightening lit it up as the door clicked shut behind Aldis. Shawn removed his hand from the cellphone and Gus's mouth, and tilted his head towards the recently vacated room.

The lights in the room came on automatically as they entered, and Shawn carefully closed the door behind them. "Harvey's study," Shawn said, glancing around. There were pictures of Holly and Eveline arranged on the shelves holding Harvey's books. Holly looked to be about fifteen in all of them, the same way she'd looked in that portrait that was painted shortly before she supposedly died.

"What are we looking for?" Gus asked.

"Whatever we're not supposed to find," Shawn said.

"That's helpful," he said. "This is just a study, Shawn. There's books and papers."

Shawn frowned as he surveyed the room. Something was bothering him about the dimensions, the way the desk was situated at the back wall. He went to the door and leaned back out into hall for a moment, measuring the distance to the window in his mind before stepping back into the office and closing the door behind him.

"What?" Gus asked.

Shawn ignored him, stepping past him to stare at the back wall. He ran his eyes over the old fraying wallpaper. The background was a dark brown, with a gold-hued almost geometric design overlaid on top, lines crossing vertically and horizontally, interspersed with drawings of leafy vines crawling up and across them.

He looked for any break in the design, any evidence of something off center, but whoever had put it up had known what they were doing. When he finally found the crack it was right at the edge of one of the gold-hued vertical lines, following it up almost seamlessly. It would never be seen unless someone was looking for it.

"Shawn, what are you doing? Are you going to help me look through this stuff or not?" Gus demanded.

Shawn ran a hand over the break in the wall, before stopping where the door handle might have been and applying pressure. He heard a magnetic click, and then the hidden door was opening slowly, creaking like the background sound effects in a made-for-Halloween CD.

"Is that a hidden door?" Gus asked, stepping up behind him. "Did you just find a hidden door?"

"The room wasn't big enough," Shawn said. "It was about four feet too short. I knew there had to be something behind this wall."

Gus gulped. "Are you sure you want to know what it is?" he asked.

Shawn pulled the door open in answer, and stepped inside. No lights came on, but Shawn saw a lamp and clicked it on. The room was only about four feet wide, but it was at least fourteen feet across. A bed lay pushed up against one wall on one side, a pink daisy comforter laid across it, while a dresser was pushed up against the other. There wasn't room for anything else.

"There's no place for anyone to hide in here, I think you're safe," Shawn said. Gus followed him in reluctantly.

Shawn went straight to the dresser. There was a framed picture of a woman he didn't recognize, smiling at the camera. She looked a little like Holly. Shawn was pretty sure the shoulder on the left side, belonging to someone that had been cropped out of the photo, was Harvey's. He turned the picture over and pulled it open to see if there was an inscription on the back of the picture.

There wasn't one, though he had found something else of interest. Shawn set it back down and noticed a pair of pearl earrings sitting beside a velvet red ribbon with a cameo tied to one end. He pocketed the earrings, and then turned back to see what Gus was doing. He had his face half-laid on the bed, and was grunting and muttering to himself.

"What are you doing?" Shawn asked. "Nevermind. Actually, I don't think I want to know."

"I'm looking for-" Gus grinned triumphantly. "Ah ha!" He pulled a diary out from under the mattress.

Shawn frowned at him. "How did you know that would be there?" he asked.

"Please, Joy always kept her diary under her bed," Gus said.

"I didn't know girls really did that," he said. "I thought that was a television myth."

"That's cause you didn't have a sister, Shawn," Gus said.

"No, but I had you," Shawn said. "You were almost like having a sister."

"Please," Gus said. "Like you ever could have found my diary. I had the best hiding place ever."

"You call it a diary, I rest my case," Shawn said. "Anyway, everyone knows you kept it on your bookshelf behind your first edition copy of Ender's Game and your Algebra text book."

Gus froze. "How do you know about that?"

"Are you kidding?" Shawn asked. "I almost had that thing published, it was brilliant. I can recite most of it by heart. January 8th, 1989, Shawn was mean to me today-"

"Stop it," Gus snapped. "I can't believe you read my diary."

"Well, I didn't read all of it," Shawn said. "You were more prolific than Judy Blume."

Gus glared at him. "It was only like twenty pages," he snapped. "If you were going to invade my privacy you could have at least had the decency to read the whole thing."

Shawn took the diary from Gus and pulled at the lock, trying to wedge it open. "It's like trying to get into Tut's tomb," he said, before pulling one hand away, shaking it out and then sticking the tip of a finger in his mouth.

"Give me that," Gus said, ripping it out of his hands. He gripped the front cover with one hand and the back cover with the other, closed his eyes and scrunched up his face, and proceeded to try and pull it open. He moved his head side to side and then gave up, standing up straight and glaring at it.

"That was a very manly display of power," Shawn said. "I'm a little in awe of you."

"Shut up, Shawn," he said. "That lock's made of titanium or something."

"I'm fairly certain it isn't made of titanium," Shawn said. "It has My Little Pony on the cover. Typically twelve-year-old girls don't require that kind of security."

"You couldn't get into it either!" Gus snapped.

Shawn held his hand out. "I'll get it open," he said.

"Yeah right," Gus said, handing it back.

Shawn grabbed it and turned his back on him, wiggling one hand in the air, and whispering, "open sesame!" He spun around, and held the diary out, holding it by one edge of the cover so it sprung open and the pages all went spinning to the other side. "Ta da!"

"What the hell?" Gus said, taking it back. "How did you do that?"

Shawn held up his other hand, and a little gold key dangled from a pink string. "I found the key in the picture frame."

"You had that the whole time?" Gus demanded.

"Yes," Shawn said. "But I didn't want to deprive you of your Herculean efforts. Seriously, I thought you were the master safe-cracker, I thought no lock could stop you."

"It's the simple ones that are surprisingly effective," Gus said defensively.

"I'll be sure to recommend Hasbro to the NSA," Shawn said.

Shawn looked back at the diary, and flipped to the last used page. He started to read it, and Gus pulled it over so he could see it too, nearly slamming his head into Shawn's. "Ow, be careful!" Shawn protested.

"Then move over," he snapped. "I want to see it too!"

Shawn grudgingly held it over so they could both read it:

May 23, 1994.

He thinks I don't know what he's planning, but Andie told me. He told Andie to pack and get rid of all my things, to make my room into a study, before she gets here. Andie waited until he was gone and had my room walled up against the edge, like it wasn't ever there, hidden behind the wall so it'll be waiting for me, our little secret. Andie says not to worry, but Harvey says it's time for me to move on to a better place.

I don't want to go.

"Oh my god, Shawn, he killed her!" Gus said. "She's is dead, she's the ghost! Oh my god, you saw a real live ghost!"

"Okay, firstly, that doesn't even make any sense, it's an oxymoron," Shawn said. "Secondly, there's no such thing as ghosts. And thirdly, he didn't kill her."

"A better place, Shawn?" Gus snapped.

"Yeah, I don't think the place he sent her was really better," Shawn said, and grabbed a brochure up off the dresser to hand to Gus.

"Acres and Groves?" Gus asked incredulously. "The metal institution that was formed after they closed Wispy Sunny Pines?"

"Yeah, and it gets worse," Shawn said. "I don't think she was his sister either." He held open a birthday card that had been sitting beside the brochure.

On the inside it was signed by Harvey, with love, to daddy's little girl.

"Who signs a card to their kid with their first name?" Gus asked in disbelief. "And who has their daughter committed and tells everyone she's dead?"

"Someone that didn't want the new wife to know about her," Shawn said. "He had this place remodeled to get rid of the traces, claimed Holly was his dead sister, only someone didn't want to just get rid of all her things like she'd never been here."

"You think Harvey Graves didn't even know this room was here?" Gus asked.

"Holly said in the diary that he wanted it all taken away," Shawn said. "Andie must have been in charge of the remodeling, and had a new wall put up, leaving a little space left to keep some of her room."

"That's creepy," Gus said. "No one could live in this room. It's like something out of Edgar Allan Poe, getting walled up in here."

"There's a door, usually in Edgar Allan Poe people walling up other people don't bother with doors," Shawn said. "Creepy though it may be, whoever did this cared about Holly, they couldn't stand the thought of her just being erased."

Shawn paused as he heard a raised voice coming from the hallway, and beside him, Gus went very still. "It's the ghost!" he said nervously.

"Only if she's on testosterone," Shawn said.

"Let's just get out of here," Gus said, tugging Shawn back to the door. "This place gives the willies."

"Yeah, okay, but only if you promise not to say 'the willies' anymore," Shawn said, putting the diary under one arm and reaching out to turn off the lamp. He pressed the door to the room closed behind them, smoothing down the edges of the wallpaper to hide it again.

Gus opened the study door and he and Shawn both stuck their heads out, looking both ways before exiting the room. Gus pulled out his cellphone and started leading the way back down the hall.

He was holding his cellphone in front of him like he was Indiana Jones and it was a torch, which made his very unmanly gasp when the light on his display flickered out extra amusing for Shawn. "The battery died!"

"I did notice," Shawn said.

"Neither of us have cellphones now, Shawn! We have no way to communicate with the outside world!"

"You mean the outside world that's like twenty feet away?" Shawn asked.

"Twenty dark scary feet away," Gus snapped, and latched onto his friend, digging his fingers into his arm.

"What is with your nails?" Shawn demanded, trying to pull out of the death grip that Gus had on his arm. "Are you auditioning to be Edward Scissorhands? Ease up!"

"I can't see anything, Shawn!" Gus snapped. "We're going to die here."

"We're not going to die," Shawn said. "Probably. Most likely we aren't going to die."

"You're not helping," Gus snapped, and then let out a high-pitched scream as a bright light appeared hovering behind them. Shawn spun around and held up a hand to try and make something out, but the light was blinding them both. Gus grabbed Shawn's sleeve and started tugging. "It's the ghost! Run!"

Shawn was about to protest again that it wasn't a ghost, it was probably just a murderer, but meeting a murderer in a dark hallway didn't sound like much fun either so he started after him. He didn't make it very far before an arm slipped around his throat, wet and cold, and pulled him to a sudden stop.

on to part three