This was Shawn’s moment. He could see it so clearly he could practically touch it. Gus had let all of his defenses drop away. He was speaking from the heart now, baring his soul. And there’s not much in the world that was more vulnerable than a bare soul.
Shawn saw exactly how to play the next few moves. He’d have to act sympathetic at first, maybe even agree that they’d been stuck in a rut for a while. Even though it was an insane lie-the last few months had seen them stranded on the top of a mountain with a deranged killer and kidnapped to England by a lunatic, and it was difficult for Shawn to see that as any kind of routine. But it was the way Gus felt about things, and he’d have to pretend to go along with it.
Then he’d slip into a reminiscence of one of Gus’ favorites of their coolest earlier cases-maybe the spelling bee-and how great everything used to be.
Once Gus was suitably softened up by sentimentality Shawn would start talking about the future. No, not the future- their future. How they could build Psych into a real business. How they could spend less time acting like kids and more being the adults they’d become. He might even thank Gus for bringing up a thought that had been bothering Shawn, too. It was time to put away fun and join the serious world.
Before he was halfway through Gus would be in tears. He’d beg Shawn to stop. He didn’t want to join some corporation; all he wanted was to go back to the way things were supposed to be.
There were only two problems with that plan. The first and more easily ignored was that it might not hold for long. Although there had been times over the years when Gus had expressed dissatisfaction with their eternal adolescence, he’d never really seemed to mean it. Usually it just meant he’d struck out with a cute girl who was in the market for someone with bigger earning potential.
But this didn’t seem to be one of those passing moods. He’d clearly been thinking about it for a long time. Even if Shawn’s nostalgia trip managed to persuade him to pass on this opportunity, the feelings would come back sooner or later. They’d be dealing with this again soon.
Still, soon was a lot better than now and a temporary fix was better than no fix at all. Now that Shawn knew what the issue was, he could put some real thought in how to deal with it.
It was the second problem that was keeping Shawn from moving forward with his plan.
He didn’t want to do it.
Gus thought this move would make him happy. And for all that Shawn hated having to think of anyone’s happiness but his own, he realized that he wanted the same thing Gus did. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t need to.
For the first time since he’d boarded his flight in Santa Barbara, Shawn smiled. “If this is what you really want, you should go for it.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I don’t know what kind of sick game you think you’re playing, Guster, but this is our case,” Lassiter said. “You are not welcome here.”
At least that’s something, O’Hara thought. Lassiter has actually started thinking of this as his case-or as a case at all.
“Are you here about Mandy, Gus?” O’Hara said as she finally got close enough to speak without feeling the need for a megaphone.
“I’m sorry to say I don’t know anything about anyone named Mandy,” Gus said. “I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks.”
Lassiter snorted with disgust. “You’ve been on this case for a couple of weeks and you still don’t know the victim’s name?”
“I’m not on a case, Lassie,” Gus said. “I’m here.”
Juliet realized why it had taken her so long to recognize him. The Gus she knew always dressed nicely, in pressed khakis and button-down shirts, but now he was in a tailored suit. It looked like a Zegna. The tie alone must have cost more than the entire outfit she was used to seeing him in.
“You work at Benson Pharmaceuticals?” she said.
“Junior vice president of marketing,” Gus said, then corrected himself. “Sorry, senior vice president. They promoted me to Sam’s level after he passed away.”
“Don’t tell me you’re trying to do undercover work, Guster,” Lassiter said. “You’re not going to fool anyone, least of all me.”
“I’m not under anything,” Gus said. “Except thirty-five. As in the Five Hundred Most Promising Executives Under Thirty-Five, as judged by San Francisco Business magazine.” By some strange coincidence, there happened to be a copy on the conference table and it was open to a page where a tiny picture of Gus was placed next to a large red number 467. “I was going to be four hundred ninety-two, but Benson’s PR people were able to let them know about my promotion just before they went to press.”
“So you and Shawn aren’t working together anymore?” O’Hara said. She tried to remember the last time she’d run into them on a case, or in the station as they tried to cadge a case from the chief. She realized it had been weeks. “Did something happen?”
“If you knocked him off and buried the body, we won’t tell anyone,” Lassiter said. “Just let us know where the unmarked grave is in case we feel like dancing.”
“We’re still friends,” Gus said. “Best friends. That’s forever. But we’re getting older and our interests started pulling us in different directions. When this opportunity presented itself, we had a long talk about where we wanted to go in the next few years and we agreed that we should part ways professionally. Not to say we won’t be working together again in the future, but for the moment we’re both doing what we want to do. So what brings you guys up north?”
O’Hara studied Gus closely. In all the time she’d known him, he and Shawn had been inseparable. Even on those few occasions when they’d been fighting, they stuck together. She’d imagined them ending up together in an old folks’ home years from now, bickering about which Corey had squandered more potential in his later acting career. If someone had told her that he and Shawn had gone their separate ways she would have assumed they’d both be devastated-particularly Gus, who always seemed to be the junior man in the relationship.
But if Gus was devastated he was hiding it well. And she had never known Gus to be particularly skilled at hiding anything, least of all his emotions. He looked happy and successful. He looked good.
“I wish we’d known about this before you left,” she said finally. “At least we could have bought you a cupcake.”
“It’s not like I moved to Shanghai,” Gus said. “Although there is a spot opening up in our Asian office and I’m thinking about tossing my hat into that ring. But unless that happens, I plan to be going back to Santa Barbara all the time. It’s still my home.”
“When you come back don’t feel obligated to say hello,” Lassiter said. “I’m sure you’re busy these days.”
“Indeed I am,” Gus said. “So, what can I do for you?”
Juliet glanced over at Lassiter. It was so odd to be asking Gus for information. “We’re investigating the death of a Benson Pharmaceuticals employee named Mandy Jensen.”
“Was she murdered?” Gus said.
“No,” Lassiter said. “We just drove three hundred fifty miles on a whim because we feel some misplaced sense of connection with a dead woman.”
“That’s funny,” Gus said. “Generally when you use sarcasm, you try to overemphasize the emotion or interest in words that are so obvious they shouldn’t carry any extra emotion or interest. That way the listener understands that while you seem to be answering the question, you’re actually expressing contempt for the person who asked it.”
“Imagine that,” Lassiter drawled.
“Now that’s better,” Gus said.
“Mandy Jensen was found hanging by her neck in her mother’s basement,” O’Hara said. “She had apparently put on her old college cheerleader’s uniform, then tied a rope around a water pipe that ran across the ceiling and made a noose on the other end. She put the noose around her neck, then jumped off a chair.”