Spencer For Hire

Gus was already in the Psych office when Shawn arrived the next evening. Shawn raised his arms for attention. “And…I solved the case.”

“You did?” Gus raised his eyebrows. “That was fast. Let me guess, the killer tried to kill you too?”

“No.” Shawn walked to the sofa and sat, putting his arms behind his head. “But I totally spotted him with his mismatched body language. I’m like Dr. Cal Lightman, only younger and hotter. Without all that angst and familial strife.”

“Spotting one suspicious guy does not make you a psychologist, even a fictional one.,” Gus said. When Shawn didn’t respond he went back to reading an online article about nasal drug delivery.

“Don’t you want to know who dunnit?” Shawn asked after a few moments.

“Of course I do!” Gus spun his chair to face Shawn. “But I shouldn’t have to ask. I’m your partner. You should just tell me.”

“Dude, it’s like The Fugitive. The doctor killed his wife.”

“That’s the complete opposite of the Fugitive,” Gus said.

“Exactly. It’s uncanny.”

“And that’s the wrong case. “ Gus looked thoughtful for a moment, then recognition dawned on his face. “You’re talking about that Shapiro case. I read about it in The Courier. The police are stumped and under a lot of pressure from the mayor’s office. Frankly, I was surprised they hadn’t called us in on it.”

“Well now they don’t have to, because I’m neck deep in it.”

“I don’t remember Harrison Ford picking up male prostitutes in The Fugitive,” Gus said. “I didn’t see the original show, but it was the sixties, so I’m guessing David Janssen didn’t either. How does this connect up with our escort case?”

“I’m going out on a limb here,” Shawn said, “but I think he hired Lamar to burgle the house and call it in to the cops as a robbery homicide. That way he could go home, bludgeon his wife, and have a perfect alibi.”

“What was to prevent Shapiro’s wife from calling the cops herself when she got home and found the place robbed?” Gus asked.

Shawn was silent for several moments. Finally he said, “I don’t know. That’s a good point. Damn it, Gus. Why’d you have to go and ruin my brilliant solution.”

“Hang on,” Gus said. “Maybe he gave his wife something that made her feel bad enough to leave the charity event and knocked her out when she got home. Or better yet, he gave something to Lamar and had him knock her out before he burgled the place.”

“That’s good,” Shawn said. “I like that. I can already see how I’ll work Lamar lunging with the syringe into my vision. Or I could channel the spirit of the drugged Mrs. Shapiro.”

“Wait.” Gus frowned. “How do we know that he didn’t just hire Lamar to kill his wife in the first place?”

“I talked to some of the guys,” Shawn said. “Lamar was a flake, and always in need of cash. But I don’t think he was a killer. The guy didn’t even eat meat. In fact, I think he got cold feet about the whole thing and told his roommate, Ryan. That’s why Shapiro had to kill them both. He killed Lamar when they arranged to meet up for the payoff. Either Ryan tried to blackmail him, or killing him was just insurance. Either way, they’re both dead. And who would think to link the murder of some male prostitutes with a murder in swanky Hope Ranch?”

“That’s nicely done,” Gus admitted. “We’ve solved our case and the case that had the cops stumped. I see front page for this one. When the reporters interview you, try to mention the name of the agency this time. And use my proper name. You know my mom tapes those things.”

“The case isn’t totally wrapped up yet,” Shawn admitted. I still need to prove it. But I’ve got a date with the killer this afternoon. I should have it all wrapped up by dinner time. I’m thinking Red Robin to celebrate.”

“Where are you meeting Shapiro?” Gus asked.

“We’re meeting at my place,” Shawn said. “I told him Ryan and I were close. Like tell-each-other-everything close. And I told him I wanted twenty grand to keep quiet about it. I figured that was enough to make him want to kill me rather than pay me.”

“Hold the phone,” Gus said. “You’re luring the killer to your home, hoping he’ll try to kill you? Are you insane?”

“Relax. I’ll have Lassie and Jules as backup.”

“Where are you planning on hiding them?” Gus asked, thinking of the tiny apartment where Shawn was currently staying. “Behind the sofa?”

“They won’t let anything happen to me. Jules is smart. And Lassiter loves any excuse to shoot something. Besides, I think he likes me. Like, likes-me likes me.”

“Whaaaat?” Gus wrinkled his brow. “No, Shawn. I think I can safely say that he doesn’t.”

“I never really noticed it before. But last night it was so obvious. His feet were pointed at me, his pupils were like headlights and I think he almost kissed me.”

“How does someone almost kiss you?”

“He kind of almost leaned in to kiss me, but didn’t.”

“Almost leaned? I think that’s some wishful thinking on your part. It’s like when Jessica Wheaton almost asked you to the prom.”

“She would totally have asked me, if we hadn’t been interrupted by my head getting slammed into the locker by her boyfriend.”

“Your fixation on Lassiter is crazy, Shawn. It’s just a distraction you use to keep your brain busy when there’s no actual work. It’s like when Sherlock Holmes uses cocaine. Lassiter is your cocaine, Shawn. It’s not good for you and you should leave it alone.”

“I know what you’re going to say. You think Lassiter’s too straight-laced, and probably straight. Or if we date I’ll spill about not being psychic and he’ll arrest us and ruin our business …”

“—no, actually.” Gus cut in. “I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t. He’s grown to tolerate you, despite knowing in his bones that you’re a fake. But he is out of your league.”

“What?” Shawn looked at Gus incredulously. “He isn’t!”

“He’s completely out of your league, Shawn. He’s a man. He has investments. He has a career. He isn’t wearing the same kind of clothes he wore in junior high. You don’t date men. You date guys.”

“I could date a man,” Shawn said.

“I don’t think you could,” Gus said. “You’re just not a man’s man. You’re a guy’s guy. No offence meant. I’m just saying.”

“Lassiter could totally go for me,” Shawn insisted. “Sure, he’s got this chilly exterior, but I just need to break through the ice.”

“That’s a terrible metaphor, Shawn.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Because if you break through the ice you’ll fall into the water,” Gus explained. “And hypothermia can kill a man in twenty minutes.”

“I’ll wear a wet suit,” Shawn said.

“Just so you remember how I told you so,” Gus said, returning to his article.

***
Shawn opened the apartment door and led Lassiter, O’Hara and Gus inside. Lassiter had protested vigorously against Shawn being left alone with a man who had already killed three people. Chief Vick had over-ruled him, pointing out that since Shapiro had already met Shawn at the escort agency they couldn’t very well replace him with one of the undercover guys. Shawn had weighed in by claiming that the spirit of Xaviera Hollander had told him he was the only chance they had for catching their killer. Lassiter had tried to point out that Xaviera Hollander was alive and well and living in Amsterdam, but Shawn had simply claimed it must be her astral projection.

Despite Shawn’s assurances about his safety, Gus had insisted on coming. Shawn’s apartment was small, physically clean but messy and undecorated. The coffee table held the leavings of several days of take-out, and there were cardboard boxes scattered about, as if someone was in the midst of packing or unpacking.

“This place is perfect,” Lassiter said. “It’s seedy and cheap. Who’d you borrow it from?”

“This is my place.”

“Oh.” Lassiter was at a loss for words. Shawn looked at Gus for support but he merely raised an eyebrow as if to reiterate the distinction between guys and men.

“I’m moving in a week,” Shawn said defensively. Next week he’d be house-sitting for a friend who was going to Nice for a month. The friend had a loft apartment and Shawn was looking forward to driving a bicycle around in it, like in Quicksilver.

“Well, it fits the bill,” Lassiter said. “Shapiro should have no trouble believing an escort lives here.”

Shawn caught Gus’ eye and through a brief series of frantic head movements suggested he take O’Hara elsewhere, leaving him alone with Lassiter.

“Juliet,” Gus said with transparent enthusiasm, “let me show you the back door.” He walked with her toward the far exit. “It goes directly to a parking lot.” He led her outside, giving Shawn a warning glare as they left.

Lassiter set the case he’d brought on the kitchen counter and removed the microphone and transmitter unit. Shawn pulled off his t-shirt and stood there while Lassiter checked the connections on the equipment.

“How about me?” Shawn asked. “Am I convincing? Do I come across like a real escort?”

Lassiter thought back to Shawn’s interactions with Shapiro at the agency.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “You’re very convincing.” Something in his voice made Shawn curious.

“You didn’t really think I was working there, did you?” he asked.

“As an escort or as a detective?” Lassiter proceeded to tape the transmitter to Shawn’s abdomen, running the tape around to his back and then smoothing it down with his fingertips. Shawn leaned in and smelled Lassiter’s hair in what he hoped was a subtle gesture.

“As an escort.”

“No,” Lassiter said, although he hesitated longer on the word than he would have if he’d meant it. “I was pretty sure you were working on a case.” He ran the microphone wire up to Shawn’s collarbone and taped it in place.

“Only pretty sure?” Shawn laughed. “So…” Shawn took a deep breath. “If I had been working, would you have ever considered…”

“I couldn’t afford you, remember?” Lassiter’s voice was serious, but Shawn sensed that he was joking.

“Isn’t the first one free?” Shawn asked. “You, know, to get you hooked?”

Lassiter didn’t respond. “None of these wires will be visible once you’ve got your shirt on,” he said finally, smoothing tape along Shawn’s pectoral muscles. “So you don’t need to worry that he’ll spot it.”

“I’m not worried,” Shawn said. At the moment he was more concerned about getting an erection while being wired for sound. He distracted himself by mentally naming all the characters from Sixteen Candles.

“You’re all set,” Lassiter stepped back and put his hands in his pockets. “We’ll be recording the whole thing from just outside. Ideally, we want him admitting to having killed his wife.”

“And Lamar and Ryan.” Shawn pulled his shirt on and checked to ensure no wires were visible. Just to be safe he grabbed a blue checked overshirt and put that on as well.

“Yes, and Lamar Valdez and Ryan Tran,” Lassiter agreed. Although both of them knew that the police department, the mayor, and the papers would be more concerned about the murder of the popular socialite than about either of the two escorts. “At the first sign of trouble you say your line and we’ll be in here in seconds. What’s the line?”

“I’ve got a pineapple.” Shawn glanced at the counter, where he did, in fact, have a pineapple.

“Perfect.”

“That should do it,” Lassiter said just as Gus and O’Hara returned to the apartment.

“I think Gus and I will stake out the back,” O’Hara said. “Shapiro might not want to be seen, so he may come in that way.”

“Fine,” Lassiter said. “I’ll be out front., listening to everything you say in here.” He looked at his watch. “Shapiro’s expected at one, but we should take our positions now in case he’s early.” He put a hand on Shawn’s shoulder. “Don’t try anything stupid, Spencer. Just stick to the plan.”

Shapiro was twenty minutes early but Shawn still felt as if he’d been waiting forever. The doctor came to the back door, like O’Hara thought he might. Shawn invited him in and told him to make himself comfortable. Shapiro looked around, but his eyes didn’t linger on any particular place.

He’s looking to make sure we’re alone, Shawn thought.

“Have a seat,” Shawn gestured toward the couch.

Shapiro shook his head. “I prefer to stand.”

“Did you bring the money?” Shawn asked. He figured a real blackmailer would be all about the money, and he wanted to sound genuine.
“Of course I did.” Shapiro walked slowly around the apartment, taking in every detail. “So what exactly did Ryan tell you?”

“What do you think he told me?” Shawn asked. It this was going to work he needed to keep Shapiro talking.

“Did he mention the break-in at my house?” Shapiro asked.

He’s being careful, Shawn thought. Not wanting to give anything away that I might not already know.

“That supposed break-in?” Shawn said, laughing lightly. “Yeah. How did you get Lamar to do it?”

“Like everything else,” Shapiro said, turning to face Shawn. “Money. Lamar agreed to anything once I promised him enough.”

“But Lamar didn’t get paid, did he?” Shawn prodded. “Why’d you have to kill him? He was flaky, sure, but he was a nice guy.”

“Lamar couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” Shapiro said. “He didn’t realize Elaine was going to die. He thought it was just an insurance scam. But once he knew he had second thoughts. He broke our agreement.”

“And Ryan tried to blackmail you.”

“Ryan was greedy, and there wasn’t any guarantee that he could keep his mouth shut even if I paid him. Can you? Keep your mouth shut?’
“I sure can,” Shawn said. He grinned. “I’m like that girl from the Miracle Worker.”

“Helen Keller?”

“Yeah. She was mute, right?”

“No, she was deaf and blind. She could speak fine and actually went on lecture tours around the country.”

“Oh,” Shawn said. “I knew I should have watched past the first few minutes of that film.”

“We agreed on twenty thousand,” Shapiro said. He placed a stack of fifty dollar bills on the counter. It was an inch and a half thick, which was about right, but somehow Shawn doubted Shapiro intended to let him keep it. The money was just for show. Shawn walked over to it and thumbed through the stack. Shapiro would expect him to, and getting his fingerprints on it would help in court.

“I’ve got to take my medication,” Shapiro said, fumbling in his pocket. “Could you get me a cold drink?”

“Oh, sure. I’m sorry, I should have thought to offer you something.” Shawn walked into the kitchen and peered into the fridge. “I’ve got Sunny D,” he called to Shapiro.

When the syringe entered his neck Shawn had time to be disappoint