Chapter Text
“They’re all… psychics.” He stared at O’Hara in what he hoped wasn’t obvious disbelief.
“Yes, all of them. Or, actually, two psychics and a ‘clairvoyant’?” Her hand hovered at the lightswitch and she looked to him as if for permission. He nodded at her, and the room flickered to life. “Sorry, I’m really not sure what all the different terms mean.”
Shawn wasn’t either. “That’s okay, Juliet, I can’t expect a layperson to know all the ins and outs.”
O’Hara spread the contents of the file folder on the desk before them and sat down. Lassiter moved to stand uncomfortably close to Shawn, leaning over his shoulder to gaze at the photographs. He realized belatedly that he was sitting in the man’s chair. Hey, he was the one who’d just ‘suffered a migraine’, could he really be expected to stand?
“Other similarities between them?” Lassiter asked.
“Yes, but a lot of these are also just similarities between psychics in general. All female, all renting business properties within thirty miles of Santa Barbara. Their shops are all fairly popular. They’re all unmarried, no kids.”
“We should go to their shops, interview their staff,” Shawn suggested.
Lassiter's hand left the seat's backrest. “Obviously. I think O’Hara and I have that taken care of.”
“Woah, woah woah,” Shawn interjected, spinning in his chair to face him. “They’re not going to talk to just anybody!”
He cleared his throat, preparing for pushback as Lassiter would no doubt provide.
“You see, Lassie, we psychics are something of a closed off community. We don’t just go around discussing our ins and outs with outsiders—”
“I really wish that were true,” Lassiter deadpanned.
“—and anyway,” Shawn continued. “We all know how this works by now. Despite your best efforts, I’ll end up tagging along anyway and discover crucial evidence and-slash-or solve the entire case.”
“Sure, Spencer,” Lassiter narrowed his eyes. “But isn’t there part of your little equation missing? Namely, your partner? Why don’t you go get Guster, and O’Hara and I will bring the car around.” He made no attempt at sincerity.
Gus. Somehow he’d managed to forget. Well… surely his partner should focus on his oh-so-important seminar. Wouldn’t want him to have to work too hard. God forbid he waste his precious time, given the last week when he’d apparently had to ‘solve the case himself’-
“Shawn? ”
He shifts his eyes back to where Lassiter and O’Hara were staring at him. He shook his head in a menial attempt to clear his reemerging bitterness.
“I, uh, no. Nope, no need to bother Gus on this one. Trust me, he does not want to be bothered during this session, the man is a lock-picking fiend, practically-”
“Shawn-”
“-practically lives for the things-”
“Shawn, what was that? You were zoned out for like a full minute, I called your name four times.”
He refocused his attention and found that both O’Hara and Lassiter were staring at him intently. It seemed like his argument with Gus was distracting him more than he’d thought.
“I just, uh, lost my train of thought.” He excused.
“Lost your…?” Juliet doubted. “Seriously, Shawn-?”
He really did not need to get into this right now. “Just- unrelated vision, Jules. Drop it.”
His tone was probably sharper than it’d needed to be and he quickly regretted it upon seeing her eyebrows shoot up in shock. In avoiding her gaze he realized that Lassiter was looking at him with the same alarm mixed with concern.
A lot of concern. One again reminiscent of last week’s… incident… in the interrogation room, and just as intoxicating.
He was pulled from his admittedly disturbing thoughts by the sound of someone entering the room. The three turned to see a middle aged man. He was a few inches taller than Shawn, white, and otherwise rather nondescript- apart from his familiarly tired, grey eyes. He instantly recognized him as the man who had sat next to him late at the seminar.
The man looked between them and raised an eyebrow in clear questioning. Lassiter straightened quickly with O’Hara following, leaving Shawn the only one still seated.
“My apologies, I was just about to inform you,” Lassiter said quickly before looking between him and Shawn. “This is Detective Jason Clark, he’s just transferred from Anaheim. He’ll be helping us out on our next few investigations.”
The man- Clark, he supposed- regarded Shawn vaguely, although he got the impression it wasn’t with intentional dismissal, rather distraction.
“Clark, this is Shawn Spencer. He’s a consultant; he works with us on some of our cases.” Lassiter’s introduction was surprisingly lacking quips or disparagement- it really seemed as if the man was walking on eggshells around him.
“Consultant…?” Clark stated, offering his hand, and Shawn blinked before realizing it had been a question.
“Psychic detective,” He clarified, accepting the man’s handshake.
Clark’s eyes seemed to clear from their previously glazed-over state to examine him more thoroughly. This was unsurprising, of course, as reactions to his occupation could range from approval to outright mockery.
He seemed to make his decision as his eyes narrowed, pulling back his hand. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, psychic detective,” Shawn repeated. He would normally invite scrutiny; the challenge could even be fun at times. The way the man's eyes raked over his face, though, wasn't very fun at all. He almost wished Gus were here so he could take the focus off of himself with a ridiculous fake name. “So, Anaheim, huh? Big Disney fan—?”
He’s cut off as the man turns sharply to Lassiter, face still lacking emotion but eyes now fully alert. “Is this some kind of joke?”
Lassiter looked at O’Hara before responding, as if making sure he didn’t actually miss a joke. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re sorry,” Clark repeated in a mumble. “We’ll speak privately.”
Lassiter paused before he nodded, then turned to Shawn and Juliet. It was some consolation that Lassiter looked confused as well. “You two don’t need to hear the same information twice. Why don’t you go get Guster and meet us back here?”
“Sure,” Nope. “Jules?”
She nodded, and they started towards the door. Lassiter began explaining the specifics of the missing individuals, and was cut off just as they left earshot.
Shawn made sure to keep their pace slow as they walked through the station, although his ruse was realized when he made a turn away from the lecture room.
“Shawn? Where are you going?”
He faked a chuckle. “My bad. Must’ve zoned out.”
They continued in the correct direction until Juliet spoke up.
“Shawn, is everything okay? Like, lately?”
He slowed to a halt. “What? Of course. You know me, Jules, I’m fine. What do you mean?”
She shook her head, motioning for him to keep walking. “No, I know you’re fine, just…”
Juliet sighed as if choosing her words carefully.
“Carlton’s been worried about you. As much as he can be, I mean. I don’t know what it is, but he asked me to check in with you.”
Shawn felt like all his senses had rebooted. Lassiter was worried about him?
Sure, he’d noticed the man’s lack of criticism in the last week or so- he noticed everything- but he hadn’t honestly given it much consideration. The last week or so… maybe his little ‘test’ in the interrogation room hadn’t been without consequence after all. He should feel mortified, or at the very least guilty, so why did he feel so warm at the thought of the man worrying over him?
“I’m fine, Jules. Or, honestly?” Shawn found one stone for two birds as Juliet nodded encouragingly. “Gus and I have been fighting. I really think inviting him in on this case would be more of a distraction than a help. Come to think of it, he might not even say yes.”
A partial truth. It had been one fight, and Gus would definitely agree to help, especially on a case so interesting as missing psychics.
In all honesty, he wasn’t sure exactly why it had gotten under his skin so much. Gus claiming he had ‘Solved the last case himself’ kept echoing in his mind. It had really dawned on him how little Gus understood about Shawn’s thought process. It wasn’t something he could turn off, and oftentimes it felt like he was working 24/7 just to have his revelations discounted as luck.
In fact, the only time he could remember anyone caring about his mental health was Lassiter last week, and he’d had to lie to earn that concern.
Juliet stopped walking and turned to face him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even see you guys arguing.” She tilted her head. “Are you sure you won’t work better with him, though? This is a big case. We could kind of use all hands on deck.”
“I’m sure. Like I said, he probably wouldn’t even agree to help.”
She grimaced. “That bad, huh?”
“That’s one word for it…” If he got any more specific, she might bring it up to him. That could not happen. “Speaking of bad, how about that new guy, Clark?”
“He didn’t exactly seem keen on working with you.” She said. So it hadn't been in his head. He'd considered that his wounded ego might've affected his perception of the interaction, and he didn't know if he was relieved to find out it had not.
He scoffed. “I haven’t said ten words to him!”
“Just,” They paused their trek outside of the main room doors as Juliet looked at him earnestly. “Don’t step on his toes. Don’t do anything— well, don’t do anything you would do.”
“Ouch."
“I shouldn’t be saying this, but Clark was on leave for a while before he transferred here due to personal issues. His wife passed away this year.” She added the last bit like she'd forgotten it wasn't explicitly implied in the phrase 'personal issues.'
Shawn risked a look through the glass and saw Lassiter and Clark speaking. Laughing, actually. A far cry from the solemnity expected from a discussion about a missing persons case. Or from the righteous indignation he might have hoped for from Lassiter had the other pressed Shawn's place in the investigation.
“Jesus,” He mumbled. “He seemed… off, but I wouldn’t have thought…”
“Yeah.”
That would explain the depressed appearance he’d given off when Shawn had seen him in the seminar.
“You won’t have to worry about seeing him too much, honestly, he’s just assigned to work with us until he’s cleared 100%.”
Shawn wanted to ask what 'cleared' meant in this context. How bad, exactly, were these so-called 'personal issues,' and what about them made him leave Anaheim? At first with dark humor, Shawn wondered if Clark's wife had died at Disneyland. Then, he half-seriously considered that maybe that had been the reason he'd snapped at Shawn. It was ridiculous; it would have been in the news. Though he did cut Shawn off the second he mentioned it...
Juliet pushed the door open.
Clark’s hint of joviality died as soon as he saw them enter the room. Lassiter looked between the man and Shawn before reluctantly speaking.
“Where’s Guster?”
Shawn opened his mouth before Juliet cut in.
“He’s otherwise occupied this week, he won’t be able to help on this one.”
He gave her an appreciative look, silently thanking her excuse.
Lassiter sighed, nodding. “Alright, let’s get going then.”
Clark shook his head. “Let me know what you find.”
They paused awkwardly, but there was really no reason they needed four people for such a simple task.
“Mystic Melanie's: Palm and Card Reader,” Read O’Hara as the three approached the stone steps to the building. “Owned by, well, Melanie Andreas, age 43, has been in business for four years…”
“What makes someone suddenly decide to become a psychic halfway through their life?” Lassiter muttered.
“You don’t choose the spirits, the spirits choose you,” Shawn supplied, silencing his phone. Gus had called twice.
Lassiter scoffed. “Or she’s a fraud.”
“She’s been missing for at least two days,” O’Hara continued. “She has no immediate family, and the last person to see her was her assistant.”
It took banging on the door for over a minute for a short, dark-haired woman to crack the door open, sticking her head through to examine the detectives. “We’re closed.”
“We’re not looking for a reading,” Lassiter held up his badge and the woman slid the door open completely. “Are you Ms. Andreas’ assistant?”
She looks between the three before nodding, standing to the side as an invitation to enter. “I’m Rani. I’m the one who called? Well, of course, not you specifically, but to report her missing…?”
O’Hara gave her a reassuring smile. “You did the right thing. When exactly did you notice she was missing?”
The three entered the small building, finding the main room absolutely smothered in crystals. There was not a spot or shelf in the room empty; even the walls were cluttered with palm reading and chakra charts.
“She left here on Friday at around 7PM after her last appointment and she didn’t come in on Monday.”
“And that’s when you called?”
“Melanie’s never late. Not without telling me,” Rani confirmed.
“Who was the last client she saw?” Lassiter asked, taking out a pen and notebook.
Rani’s face scrunched up as she looked between the three. “You can’t be serious? I mean, I’m sorry, but I clearly can’t tell you that.”
Lassiter looked up from where he’d been preparing to write. “...And why’s that?”
She scoffed. “I mean- client confidentiality? People come here in all kinds of situations, Detective…?”
“Lassiter,” he supplied.
“Lassiter, and there’s a level of trust placed in both Melanie and myself.”
“You’re a… psychic, too?” O’Hara asked carefully.
“Me? No. No, I’m just Melanie’s assistant. She’s the one that’s truly gifted.” Her eyes twinkled in either deep respect or, if Shawn was feeling cynical, immense jealousy.
Shawn took this as his moment to step in, extending an arm. “Nice to meet you. Shawn Spencer, Psychic Detective.”
Rani hesitated before shaking his hand. “I’m sorry, are you actually?”
He chuckled. “Yes, in the flesh. I work as a consultant for the SBPD. Listen, it would be a real help for us to get a list of Melanie’s clients- surely you want to help us find her however you can?”
She frowned. “Well, then, as a psychic surely you’d understand the importance of respect and confidentiality.”
Well, that was his best shot. She didn’t seem disbelieving of his ‘abilities’, per se, but definitely not convinced yet. He’d need to resort to more orthodox (for him) methods of investigation.
“Does Ms. Andreas have some sort of office or space where she might have left any notes or personal belongings?” Lassiter asked.
“I’ve already searched it, but you’re welcome to take a look.” Rani gestured towards a small room down a short hallway. Perfect.
“I’m gonna stay here, try to get a… get a read on things.” Shawn excused.
Rani raised her eyebrow before leading the two detectives away. Maybe that hadn’t been proper terminology?
Now alone in the large room, he examined the various shelves to find nothing out of the ordinary. A shame, these crystals and statuettes were begging to inspire some sort of Raiders of the Lost Ark-style booby trap.
He made his way behind the counter and to a stack of files and notebooks. A quick glance towards the hallway to ensure he was still alone, and he opened one of the files. Each one seemed to be filled with old checks and receipts- definitely useful, but he didn’t have enough time to examine all of them right now.
Rather, he put the files back carefully and moved on to the notebook. Jackpot. A bookmark opened to today’s date. He flipped back several pages scanning the entries.
2/15
No appts today.
2/27
NC’s appt Seemed to work miracles on her. Came in the worst I’ve ever seen her and left the best. Mel says she had a revelation. Reminds me what this is all for.
Okay, the two seemed to genuinely believe in Melanie’s psychic abilities- it might’ve been easier to stomach her disappearance if she’d been a con artist.
3/02
Mel had an important vision today. Canceled all appts. I hate that her gift taxes her so much.
3/03
Mel’s doing better. It scares me when she loses consciousness, but I know by now true visions do that to the Gifted.
Jesus. No wonder Rani seemed skeptical of his abilities- she was used to her boss apparently passing out when she ‘got a vision’. He wondered if she may have some sort of medical condition that might be causing this. Or hell, maybe she really was a psychic.
Suddenly, footsteps began closer from the short hallway to the office, and he only had seconds. He flipped the pages back and replaced the bookmark as he found it, stealing a final glance at the most recent entry.
3/23
New client intake 5:45PM. On the phone he said it was an emergency. May run late.
Jackpot, indeed. The last client Melanie had seen before her disappearance had been new. That was all the more reason they needed a name. But what could convince her to give it up?
The young assistant led the two back into the room as O’Hara spoke. “Thank you for your help, Rani, but I’ll be honest— we really need all the information you can give us if we want a chance at all.”
“You’ll find her,” Rani insisted. “She’ll never forgive me if I betray her clients.”
Lassiter sighed. “She may not be around to be angry if you refuse to help us.”
Shawn’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Four missed calls. He shut it off. That argument could wait.
“I’m sure your department is more than capable of doing their jobs without sacrificing respect and trust,” Rani bit back.
Solved the case himself. God, that argument could wait, indeed. Maybe if Gus were here he’d have been able to get the name already, huh?
“With all due respect, things would go a lot smoother with your full cooperation.”
His phone buzzed once more- hadn’t he shut that off? He turned away from the argument and hastily removed the battery, slipping both parts back into his pocket. He could see it now, Gus’ self-satisfied expression when he’d learn Shawn was of zero use alone.
“With all due respect, you people have no idea what it takes to be a trusted psychic in this day and age!”
He’d barely even spoken this entire time. How could he sit through an hour drive home in the heavy silence of the detectives wondering why they’d even brought him?
“Melanie gives more than you could ever imagine to- to upholding her reputation,” Rani continued emphatically. Shawn remembered her journal entries as she defended her boss. “I know what she wants better than anyone!”
Screw it. He could give just as much.
Surely Rani couldn’t dismiss what she’d referred to as a ‘true vision’?
He let himself sway slightly. He’d seen people faint before, of course, but he’d never tried faking it. Luckily for him, he was facing away from his audience, requiring less acting prowess.
“-And she would never want me to betray her clients’ trust, not without- not without-”
Shawn let his knees buckle, collapsing to the ground head-last in a carefully crafted heap.
A shocked beat passed before voices chorused, cutting off their previous argument.
“Shawn!”
“Is he-?”
He heard two pairs of quick footsteps cross the room, and felt callused hands ghost over his shoulder.
“Spencer. Shawn,” Lassiter spoke urgently. How long was he supposed to be out for Rani to buy it?
Suddenly, a head brushed against his chest and he prayed he didn’t flinch.
“He’s breathing fine, heartbeat’s… fine…”
“Shawn-” Juliet’s smaller hand shook him.
“Careful! ” Lassiter scolded, and the hand flinched away.
“How long has it been?” Shawn heard something snap open. A phone?
He really couldn’t let them call an ambulance. Shawn rolled his head sideways slightly and groaned. He felt Lassiter’s hand grip his shoulder, the broad fingers mindfully gentle against his carefully limp frame.
“Shawn?” Juliet prompted again.
He let his eyes flicker open, then closed again. Really, people underestimated his acting skills. It took a lot to have a convincing, entirely fake career, after all.
“Shawn.”
He opened his eyes slowly, and found himself looking up into Lassiter’s concerned eyes. Something about the care in which he looked at him was… exhilarating, just like it’d been being talked down from ‘hyperventilation’, or when he’d given him water and shut the lights off during his ‘migraine’ without even hesitating. Shawn decided he must not have gotten enough hugs as a child, or gotten too many. Something had gone terribly wrong to make his chest pound this way under the detective's frantic eyes.
“Spencer?”
Jesus, the case. There’d been an actual purpose to this. He really had to get control of his own thoughts.
Shawn brought his hand up slowly to his head, moving to prop himself up with his other arm.
“Easy, easy.” Juliet assisted him in sitting up carefully.
“Sorry…” He looked past Lassiter to examine Rani, who was frozen in place, if nothing else likely from sheer awkwardness. He couldn’t blame her, this was probably the strangest day she’d had in quite some time.
“Sorry... This hasn’t happened in…” He clutched his head suddenly, gasping. How was that for a ‘true vision’?
“Shawn. Look at me,” Lassiter demanded. He complied. “Am I calling an ambulance?”
“No! No, no, Lassie, m’fine,” he said too quickly.
The detective looked insulted. “You are not fine.”
“Shawn, you passed out,” O’Hara added.
He looked at her, then slid his attention back to Rani with a shake of his head. “Vision, Jules, vision.”
Rani’s eyes snapped up, examining him as if she cared for the first time. “...Vision?”
O’Hara furrowed her brow. “What? You’ve never passed out before.”
“Not during a case, no…” He agreed.
“You’ve been fainting regularly?” Any concern in Lassiter's tone was masked by an incredulous anger. Shawn chose to ignore the question.
Rani cut in, surprisingly helpful to his cause. “The crystals here were chosen and placed specifically to channel Mel’s visions.”
He nodded in agreement. “I saw… I saw Melanie. Yeah, leaving here on Friday.”
Rani was by his side in an instant, now looking just as invested as the detectives. “What else?”
“Her client… a man.” It was a private game of how general he could be without crossing the line into charades-territory. “She hadn’t met him before, had she?”
“No, no, he was new,” she agreed. “What about him?”
“His name… His name was-” He cut himself off with a violent wince, bringing both hands up to cover his eyes.
O’Hara barely had time to lay a hand on his shoulder before Rani was inches from his face, forcing him to reel backwards. “What about him?”
“That’s quite enough,” Lassiter snapped, separating the assistant from him.
“Greg Kelson. That’s who you saw. Right?” Rani asked frantically.
Bingo.
“That’s it,” he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he was pulling his weight.
He barely finished his exhale when his shoulders were grabbed roughly and Rani lunged forward again. “What did he do to Melanie?”
“That’s enough, ma’am.” Lassiter separated the woman’s grasp on him, moving himself between them as a form of barrier. “We’re leaving.”
Rani stood, stumbling back as if to snap herself out of her frenzy. Lassiter looked Shawn up and down as if looking for some sort of injury before speaking. “Can you stand?”
Shawn nodded. He was more than happy leaving now that they’d gotten what they’d needed. “I’m fine, Lassie.”
The detective scowled at his words, and he and O’Hara braced him on each side as he stood. How do people act after they’ve fainted? He let himself sway in place once more, as if he were unstable, and Lassiter quickly looped his arm around his shoulders for support.
Shawn froze. Well, that was… nice.
“Shawn?” Juliet asked.
“Sorry, sorry, let’s go.”
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“People that are alright don’t faint, and then dismiss it like a weekly occurence, O’Hara,” Lassiter's chastising tone wasn't directed at Juliet..
“Let’s just go,” Shawn insisted.
The three made their way towards the door, Shawn leaning on Lassiter for support. He needed to maintain his act, that was all…
“You’ll let me know if you find anything?” Rani's small voice called after them, a stark contrast from the desperate shout still ringing in Shawn's ear.
“You'll hear from us,” Juliet confirmed.
She shut the door behind them and they descended the steps. Maybe Shawn didn’t still need to be leaning on Lassiter, but hey, Rani could’ve been watching from the window.
Greg Kelson. Leaning against the passenger door as Lassiter retrieved the key, Shawn found himself wondering exactly how far he would go, and for exactly how little.