Keeper [3/14]
Title: Keeper
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Lassiter, Juliet/Shawn, Team Psych, OFC, OMCs
Warnings: Spoilers, non-graphic abduction of a child, violence
Spoilers: 1.01 Pilot, 1.04 9 Lives, 1.13 Game, Set . . . Muuurder
Genres: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Romance, Het, Family, Friendship, Casefile, Future!Fic
Chapters: 14
Completed: Yes
Word count: 3782 this chapter
Disclaimer: See Prologue or Master Post.
Notes: See Prologue or Master Post.
Awards: See Prologue or Master Post.
Summary: Lassiter finally gets the proof he needs to bring Shawn Spencer's psychic charade to a screeching halt. If only it was that simple...
P 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 E
“Good morning, Carlton.”
Lassiter turned from locking his car to see his partner with a smile on her face.
“Good morning, Juliet,” he started to say as he returned the smile. He wasn't really a morning person but she was, and after seven years he'd long given up on trying to resist her contagious happiness. The fact that she was pregnant and therefore had that extra bit of glowing cheer about her now just clinched it. Resistance was futile.
He was interrupted before he could get past 'morning' though.
“Good morning, Lassie-face! Did you catch the sunrise on this beautiful late spring day? It was fantastic. Wasn't it, Jules?” Shawn slid an arm around her waist and hugged her, smiling his usual manic grin.
Lassiter's smile dropped away and he sighed as he headed towards the station.
“Spencer,” he acknowledged.
“Which one?”
Lassiter stopped, his brow wrinkling as he processed that. When they caught up to him he gave Shawn a look of confusion.
“What?”
“Which Spencer? Me? Or my incredibly, gorgeously pregnant wife?” She slapped him on the chest but the effect was ruined by the grin curving her lips. He responded by kissing her cheek and making her blush.
“Shawn, behave,” she reminded him. “We have to be professional here, remember? This is where I-and on occasion, you-work.”
He pouted but she only arched an eyebrow. With a sigh that implied his actions just might be a mortal blow, he released her and took a half step back, stuffing his hands in his pockets so they'd stay put. The expression on his face was the epitome of a puppy dog scolded for chewing on slippers.
Lassiter, much used to these antics since he'd been repressing his gag reflex for five years now, just said, “I'll be inside. When you're ready to join me, Detective Spencer, you can find me at my desk,” and continued on into the station.
Juliet gave Shawn another Look when it seemed he was considering further needling the senior detective.
“What?” he asked in offended innocence.
“Be nice,” she warned him, not buying the act at all, then followed her partner in to start the day's work.
Shawn had grown rather fond of sleeping cuddled up to Juliet with his hand on her stomach where a two a.m. kick from a tiny baby foot might awaken him and that wouldn't be possible if he was banished to the couch. So he resisted the urge to respond to her challenge and instead just called, “So I'll see you at lunch then?”
She waved and he waited until she was inside before he spun on a heel and went back to their minivan.
It was less sexy and a lot less fun than a motorcycle, but getting married-and becoming a father-had given him a greater understanding of why his own dad didn't like it. He had others depending on him and he couldn't afford the risks that he'd taken when he was single.
Not that he'd given it up completely. He rode it on the weekends for pleasure and often took Juliet with him. It just wasn't his main mode of transportation anymore.
Besides, a car seat didn't really fit on the back of his beloved bike. Also, helmets were a rule he strictly followed and they didn't make them in infant or toddler sizes. He'd checked.
Spotting the Psychmobile II as he parked at the Psych office told him that Gus had beaten him there. The fact that the blinds were drawn told him that Gus was not happy. He only did that when he didn't want witnesses.
Good thing he'd stopped for donuts.
He entered their somewhat dim domain with a grin on his face and a number of explanations already running through his mind. He just needed to know what had his friend and cohort so grumpy so he could select the right one.
“And how are you doing this fine and lovely morning, Gus?” he asked, adding with a shake of the box for emphasis, “I brought donuts.”
The immediate answer was silence and a Gus's scowl remaining firmly focused on his computer screen.
“Come on,” Shawn said and sat on the edge of the desk. He opened the box and pulled out a lemon-filled powdered donut-Gus's favorite. Waving it under the other man's nose got him a response, but not the one he wanted.
Expected possibly, but definitely not wanted.
He looked at the donut now sitting on the floor where it had landed after Gus knocked it away and arched an eyebrow.
“Okay, you just defiled a lemon-filled powdered Krispy Kreme. Gus, share with me. What is going on here? Is this about the slushy machine? Because really I think it's financially sound. We drink so many of them . . . it's got to be cheaper than buying them from 7-11 all the time.”
Gus deigned to glare at Shawn for a brief-if icy-moment, then went back to his computer.
“So not the slushy machine then.”
Shawn was well aware that Gus was playing video games, but decided that maybe this wasn't the best time to call him on it. Perhaps an hour or two of Age of Empires II was just what Gus needed.
“Okay then,” he said and stood. “I'm going to go over here to thaw and see if I can restore circulation to my extremities. I can probably still save some of my toes from frostbite if I act now. When you're ready to talk just let me know.”
Gus didn't react so he gave up and took a seat behind his desk. He considered going online and maybe challenging Gus to a one-on-one battle to bleed off some of the anger, but discarded that idea almost immediately. Besides the fact that he wasn't keen on having his butt handed to him, he recognized that now was not a good time.
He had narrowed the possibilities of what was causing this down to a handful of options. All of them were the kind of thing that Gus would have to work through on his own at first.
Goofing off would also not help the situation so he left his PSP3 where it was and picked up the file on the Rimini thefts.
He would never admit it, but this one had him stumped.
Over the last three weeks seven jewels had been stolen, each a different kind and all from different sources. The lists of people who'd had access to the jewels were very short and the only thing they had in common was the fact that everyone on them had access to at least one of the missing jewels. No one name appeared on all the lists.
There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the thefts either. No patterns or MOs jumped out and none of the jewels were connected in any way that had yet been discovered.
The ruby and emerald were larger specimens, but the opal, tanzanite, onyx, citrine, and diamond were all fairly small and they had been stolen from stores or collectors who had larger stones available. In the case of the diamond and tanzanite, the larger, higher quality jewels had been in the same storage area so there would have been no additional risk in taking them instead-or as well. The citrine and onyx were taken from drawers that were full of more the same type and quality of stone but only one from each had been removed, seemingly at random. The opal had actually been removed from a setting in a necklace-of which the 24K gold chain and twelve other opals had been left behind.
If Shawn didn't know better he'd think the entire purpose of the thefts was to drive the police-and him-nuts trying to figure out the who and why.
Their burglar-or burglars, but Shawn wasn't buying that theory-were very good. The forensic guys were double and triple checking but so far they didn't have anything at all to go on. Not even a stray hair or clothing fiber in the carpeting that they couldn't identify or place. The jewels might have grown legs and walked out for all the evidence left behind.
If they did find the perpetrator, the only thing that would put him or her in jail would be the recovery of the stones and/or a confession.
Shawn was confident Lassiter could handle wringing a confession out of their suspect. Which meant it was Shawn's job to find said suspect.
He sighed and pulled the crime scene photos out, laying them on his desk in order of occurrence. Closing his eyes and pressing his fingers to his temples he thought back to each of the scenes and tried to see what he'd missed the first fifty times he'd done this.
o.o
Across town at the Santa Barbara Police Department headquarters, Lassiter was dealing with the same headache.
Well, half of the same headache. His concentration had been shot all morning thinking about the DVD. It was the eleventh day in a row of this and he was tired of the mental tug of war for his focus, but he still didn't have a satisfactory answer for the question of what to do so it continued.
Dedication to his badge and his profession dictated that he go straight to Karen.
What might have been loosely termed friendship and maybe a sliver of guilt for even considering reporting it told him that he should throw the disc away and forget it ever existed.
There was a middle ground in there somewhere, he was sure, but he had yet to find it.
Uphold the law as he'd sworn to do or protect a colleague?
He heaved a mental sigh and rolled his eyes.
Okay, fine. He could admit to himself that he'd come to like-and maybe appreciate-Shawn Spencer. Not a lot, mind you. Just enough to make him hesitate to turn Shawn in.
So the question was whether he should give his loyalty to duty or friendship . . .
“I've got the latest from forensics,” Juliet said and dropped the file on the desk. It startled him out of his thoughts and he sat forward, giving himself a firm mental shake. Focus on the case, he thought. Leave the other conundrum for after working hours.
“Anything?” he asked as he took the folder.
She gave a soft grunt of discomfort and he looked up to see her shaking her head and rubbing at her lower back/left hip area.
“No,” she said. “They're still looking, but nothing had jumped out at them as of eight o'clock this morning.”
He frowned, both at the report and the fact that she'd closed her eyes and was breathing with more intent than one generally exercised with an involuntary bodily function.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “I'm fine. Just a little muscle ache.” She opened her eyes and straightened. “Did you still want to question the Phillips' Diamond Exchange representative after lunch?”
“Yeah,” he said slowly, still distracted by her answer to his question. She didn't look fine. “But I can handle it if you want to take the afternoon off.”
She shook her head. “I'll be okay. It's probably just revenge for the way I slept last night.”
“At least go sit down and take it easy for now.” He checked his watch. “It's almost lunch. You could go early.”
She waved the suggestion aside and dug a knuckled fist into her hip again. “Shawn is picking me up. He won't be here for another half hour.” She winced and sucked in a sharp breath. “Although I may take you up on that other idea and sit until then.”
He watched her go and debated calling Shawn.
Karen had worked right up until the day she delivered and so had Juliet the first time. The book he'd read said that the first pregnancy was usually hardest because it was unknown territory. This was her second. Surely she'd know if this was something to be worried about?
Juliet wouldn't appreciate his tattling on her, he thought as he leaned back. Especially since Shawn had a tendency to go into protective overdrive when it looked like there might be problems.
He'd gotten better as the months passed at either repressing or at least hiding it most of the time, but that was only when Juliet seemed relatively fine. When she wasn't as fine it was a completely different-and somehow both alarming and amusing-story.
Lassiter had often wondered during these last few months why, if Shawn was psychic, he was so very quick to assume the worst. Shouldn't he know if it was that bad? Of course, now Lassiter knew that it was all a ruse, so that was something of an explanation.
But, he thought as he watched Juliet, if there really was something wrong and she was just telling herself it was okay because she didn't want Shawn to worry . . .
He'd just picked up the phone when he heard the question from an officer walking past.
“Detective Spencer? Are you okay?”
He stopped in process of dialing to look up and almost immediately dropped the handset and stood. Juliet was bent over, her face scrunched up with pain as she clutched at the edge of her desk and her hip.
He crossed the hallway in record time and pushed his way through the quickly forming crowd.
“Back off!” he ordered, pushing the gawkers back as he moved forward. “Give her some room.”
He finally made it to the center where Juliet was slowly lowering herself to the ground, using her desk as leverage. He crouched at her side and took her hand to help her sit with her back to the side of her desk. “Juliet?” he said.
She hadn't let go of his hand yet and he didn't try to pull away. Her other hand was rubbing her stomach in slow circles as she breathed deliberately.
“Something's wrong,” she said in response to his question.
“Somebody get an ambulance here,” he ordered the crowd above them, then returned his attention to her. “What is it? What's wrong?”
She shook her head and sucked in another breath. “I don't know. It just . . . something doesn't feel right.”
“Okay, well, we're going to get you to the hospital. Maybe the doctors can find us a better answer, all right?”
She nodded as she puffed out three short breaths Lamaze style.
“You're not going into labor are you?” he demanded with a hint of panic. He'd read the book like he was supposed to, but he really hadn't counted on actually needing it. He was her partner, but Shawn was her husband. He'd gotten her into this situation and as far as Lassiter was concerned he could get her out of it too.
She shook her head. “Too early and this is not how it felt last time,” she managed to say. “I'm just trying to distract myself mostly,” she explained.
He nodded and looked up. “Where is that ambulance?”
Karen appeared from a split in the crowd just then.
“Let's move it back, people,” she directed and where Lassiter's order had gained them a foot or so, Karen's authority got them the beginnings of dispersal. She didn't watch to see it through though, her attention already on Juliet.
“How are you doing, Detective?” she asked.
“It hurts,” Juliet said frankly through gritted teeth. “I don't know why, but it feels like someone's stabbed a red hot poker into my left butt cheek.” She gasped and shifted, trying to relieve a fresh jab of pain. “And they're driving it all the way down my leg,” she added.
“Well, you just hold on,” Karen encouraged her. “The ambulance will be here in a minute or two.”
The sound of gurney wheels on the smooth floor cut off her next statement and now the crowd really began to move to let them through.
Karen stood and continued to herd people away, reminding them that they had jobs to do and those weren’t rubbernecker or EMT.
Lassiter was stuck where he was thanks to Juliet's grip on his hand, but then he wasn't too concerned with moving at the moment. Karen was more concerned with those who were not directly involved so she left him alone.
The two paramedics joined them down at floor level and began asking questions as one set up a blood pressure cuff and the other started making notes on a chart.
Juliet was able to answer most of their questions as they ran through their initial exam. She wasn't so immobilized that they had to use a body board, but it did take both paramedics and Lassiter to get her onto the gurney, a task made more difficult because she was doubled over still and unable to straighten out.
They finally had to be satisfied with her curled up on her side.
While the EMTs secured her and got ready to move, she squeezed Carlton's hand to get his attention.
“Has someone called Shawn?” she asked.
He blinked, then shook his head. “I don't know, but I'll find out. I'll tell him to meet you at the hospital.”
She nodded and gave him a ghost of a smile in thanks, then she let him go and refocused on her breathing as she was wheeled away.
Lassiter watched for a moment, then shook himself and turned to the task of making sure Shawn knew what was going on.
o.o
“How long?”
Shawn was staring at the pictures so intently that he didn't register the question immediately. When he did it caught him off guard and he looked up in confusion.
“What?”
“How long?” Gus repeated.
“How long what?”
“How long did you know she was cheating on me?”
Oh. Right. Gus's little hissy fit.
“Um,” Shawn said as he tried to get his brain to shift gears. “I don't know. Wait,” he said when he realized what Gus was saying. “You know?”
“Well, I might not be the great Shawn Spencer,” Gus said, “but when I walk into my girlfriend's apartment and see her sitting on the couch playing a game of major league tonsil hockey with another guy, yeah, the idea occurs to me that maybe she's not being faithful to me.”
Shawn leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair. “I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to know.”
“'Not supposed to know'?” Gus echoed. “What does that mean? You were going to let this go on? Just hope she got it out of her system?”
“No. Don't be stupid, Gus. I would never do that to you. She was goingto break up with you. You were never supposed to know the real reason why.”
“Wait! She was planning to break up with me? How do you know?”
Shawn's eyes drifted down to his desk and he shrugged as he pushed at one of the pictures with a single finger. “I don't know. She just was.”
He chanced a glance up and saw that Gus was so not buying that.
“Shawn.”
It was only his name, but the tone with which it was uttered gave it all the meaning it needed.
His explanation started in a rush but died out halfway through. “I knew she was going to break up with you because Juliet . . . maybe . . . might have . . . sort of . . . kinda told her . . .”
He focused on the pictures again, praying that he'd have a sudden epiphany that he could use as a plausible excuse to delay this conversation until later. Like maybe never. Never was a much better time for him.
“Told her what?” Gus demanded.
Shawn sighed and wished Juliet was here. Gus wouldn't argue with her when she was pregnant. Actually, he wouldn't argue with her when she wasn't pregnant. They had much more civilized conversations.
Speaking of Juliet, wasn't it time to go pick her up for lunch?
Before Gus could ask again, the phone rang.
Shawn leapt forward as though he'd been launched by a catapult and grabbed for the handset, almost knocking the base to the floor in his desperation.
“Psych! Shawn Spencer speaking, how may I- Lassie? What-” The blood drained from his face and his fingers went numb from the sudden death grip on the phone.
Gus rolled his eyes. Like he was going to fall for that?
“Which- How long ago?” Shawn checked his watch, then nodded even though Lassiter couldn't possibly know that. “I'm heading out right now. Thanks, Lassie.”
He punched the button and dropped the phone on his desk as he stood.
“Gus, we'll have to finish this later. Sorry,” he apologized as he beat a quick retreat to the exit.
“No, Shawn, we finish this now. I don't know what Lassiter had to say about the case and I really don't care. You are not going to use it as an excuse to hide behind-”
“Gus, Juliet was just taken to the hospital. Something's wrong with the baby.”
The interruption was so unexpected that it stopped Gus cold. Half a second to think about it told him that it was also not something Shawn would make up just to get out of answering a question, even if it was one that he really wanted to avoid. Combine that with the look of real terror and desperation in Shawn's eyes and Gus grabbed his keys.
“I'm driving,” he said. “Don't argue with me,” he added when Shawn opened his mouth. “You're in no condition to be behind the wheel of a vehicle.”
Shawn nodded, swallowing the lump that was equal parts fear for Juliet and gratitude for Gus. He didn't deserve a friend like him. “Thanks, man.”
“Let's go,” was Gus's answer as he followed his friend out the door.
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