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“Absolutely nothing,” Shawn said. “Except maybe for that.”

He pointed up at the dam. Directly under the spot where the grenade had gone off, a spiderweb of cracks was crawling across the concrete surface.

“That’s not fair,” O’Hara said.

“Now you’re learning,” Shawn said. “So maybe you could speak to our friend before the Shawnstown flood begins.”

O’Hara cast another glance up at the dam and saw how quickly the cracks were spreading, then turned back to Fawn Liebowitz. “Have you considered rushing Pi Phi? Because I’m sure they’d love to have you.”

“You’re kidding,” Shawn said.

“Did you try asking her about sororities?” O’Hara said. “That can be an important part of a college girl’s life.”

“Well, unless Al-Qaeda’s got a branch at Darksyde U, I don’t think she’s interested in social organizations,” Shawn said.

While Shawn and O’Hara had been arguing, Fawn had reached into her backpack again and come out with a metal briefcase.

“Now what?” O’Hara said.

“My guess is it’s a suitcase nuke,” Shawn said.

“An atomic bomb?” O’Hara said, incredulous. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Shawn grabbed the briefcase out of Fawn’s hands and gave it a shake. It started to tick loudly.

“And the bar is raised,” O’Hara said. “The suitcase nuke is no longer the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. A ticking suitcase nuke is even dumber. Nuclear bombs simply do not tick.”

“Everything in this world ticks when it’s about to blow up,” Shawn said. “Ten ticks and you’re done.”

“Then get rid of it!”

Shawn hurled the briefcase down the hill. It bounced on its corners three times, then came to a stop.

“That’s it?” O’Hara said.

“Two more ticks,” Shawn said. “One-”

The briefcase exploded in a blinding flash, and then a miniature mushroom cloud.

“Now what?” O’Hara said when her ears stopped ringing. “Are we going to die of radiation poisoning?”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Shawn said.

“You sure about that?” O’Hara said. “The sick bastards who designed this thing seemed to think of every other possible torture.”

“You’re probably right about that,” Shawn said. “It’s just that we’re not going to live that long. Look.”

He pointed back at the dam. The nuclear explosion had accelerated the spread of the cracks and now they were wide enough that water was beginning to trickle through.

“This is so not fair,” O’Hara said. “Why did I let you talk me into coming back into this damn, dumb game?” O’Hara said.

“Because you said you knew how to solve the puzzle,” Shawn said.

“And I would if you’d let me think,” O’Hara said.

“There’s no time for that,” Shawn said.

There was a thunk as a chunk of concrete from the dam landed at their feet, nearly taking off Fawn Liebowitz’s head. Water blasted through the hole it had left behind, and more concrete was crumbling under the pressure.

“Come on, Jules. We’ve only got seconds left,” Shawn said.

“I’m trying!”

“Try harder!” Shawn shouted over the roar of the water.

“Will you be quiet and let me think?” she said, but her words were lost as the concrete in the dam began to crack apart.

“What?” Shawn said.

“Quiet!” she yelled.

The water was rushing under their feet now. In another few seconds the dam would give way completely and they’d be swept away in the flood, drowned or pulverized or eaten by sharks. In other words, Shawn thought, another disaster.

He looked down, expecting to see Fawn Liebowitz grinning up at him as she always did right before he died. But Fawn wasn’t smiling. She was twitching and shaking and blue smoke was coming out of her ears.

“You did it, Jules,” Shawn shouted triumphantly. “Do it again!”

“Do what?” O’Hara said.

“I kept thinking of her as a college student and a woman,” Shawn said. “I didn’t realize that what’s really important is what she’s studying. She’s a librarian.”

Now O’Hara understood. She kneeled down by Fawn and yelled in her smoking ear. “Quiet!”

At the command, the student stopped shaking. The smoke stopped coming from her ears. She reached into her backpack again.

“Get back!” Shawn shouted, feeling disappointment flooding through him even more strongly than the water was coming out of the dam.

“Not this time!” O’Hara said. “You be ready in case she tries something.”

The water was up to their knees now and it was getting hard to stand against it. Shawn braced himself as the librarian slowly pulled her hand out of the backpack.

“I see something!” O’Hara said.

It was long and straight. Shawn was so prepared to see a weapon it took him a few seconds to realize that what was coming out of the backpack was actually a book.

“Grab it, Jules!”

O’Hara reached out and got one hand on the book and then the other. She gave it a yank and it came free.

“I’ve got it!”

There was no answer. O’Hara looked up, but Shawn was gone. So was the dam. The last thing she saw was the gigantic wall of water crashing down on her.

Chapter Twenty

“I wish I could help you, Jules. I really do,” Gus said. “I just don’t have the time to get back to Santa Barbara.”

“And I didn’t have the time to fly up here,” O’Hara said. “Or the money. And it’s not like the department is paying for this trip.”

As they walked through the wide hallways of the Benson Pharmaceuticals headquarters, O’Hara found she practically had to run to keep up with Gus. Of all the strange things that had been going on lately, this had to be the strangest. The Gus she knew was always the guy who was lagging behind shouting, “Hey, guys, wait up!” He wasn’t the leader. But he strode through these offices as if he owned the place.

“I’ve given you every bit of information we have about Mandy Jansen, Jules,” Gus said. “There just isn’t any more.”

O’Hara felt a tremor of guilt flit through her at the mention of the name. Since she’d gone to see Shawn two days ago she hadn’t done a thing about that case. But the book in the game had pushed everything else out of her mind.

“You’ve been more than helpful on that case,” she said. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then what?”

“It’s Shawn.”

“What about him?” Gus said, his step slowing slightly.

“He needs your help on the Macklin Tanner thing,” she said.

Gus stiffened and increased his pace. “If Shawn needs my help he knows where to find me.”

“I’m not sure he does,” O’Hara said.

“He’s a detective,” Gus said. “He tracked me to San Francisco when I was trying to keep my destination hidden from him. It’ll be much easier now that he has my business card with my phone number on it.”

“He doesn’t want to bother you,” O’Hara said. “He knows you’re in an exciting new phase of your life, and the last thing he wants is for you to think he’s trying to drag you back to Psych.”

“So he sent you to do it instead.”

Gus stopped outside a door. The nameplate read BURTON GUSTER, EXECUTIVE VICE PRESIDENT.

“Last time I was here, hadn’t you just been promoted to senior vice president?” she said.

“It’s one of the things that make this such an exciting company to work for,” Gus said. “Lots of room for advancement. But it also means there’s a huge amount of work for those who are ready to take it on. And I’m already backed up.”

“All I need is a couple of minutes,” O’Hara said.

Gus sighed and pushed open the door and led her into an office the size of the house she grew up in. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the Ferry Building and the Bay Bridge to Treasure Island and the East Bay. She couldn’t help but stare at the view-not only because it was so beautiful, but because she couldn’t quite bring herself to reconcile it with its owner. People like Gus didn’t get offices like this. And yet here he was.