If this turned out to be today’s only surprise, that would have been okay with Shawn. United flight 6396 was already approaching the runway. Five minutes after its wheels touched down the gate doors would open and the Burbank passengers would spill out. He’d sit here and watch them all as they deplaned, and if none of them looked the slightest bit familiar he’d be nothing but happy. He’d already bought a ticket for his return flight just in case, and it would start boarding in half an hour.
But he didn’t expect to be on that plane. Not if Gus had been on this one. Because there was only one reason Gus would have taken the most expensive, least convenient flight he could have found, and that was to hide his trip from his best friend. That was why Shawn hadn’t bothered checking out any of the cheaper or easier flights. If Gus had taken one of them, Shawn would have known not to worry. Sure, it would have been strange that Gus had flown to San Francisco without telling him, but there could have been an innocent explanation for that. The most likely, in fact, was that Gus had told him at one of those moments when Shawn hadn’t been paying attention. Or that Gus had told him and he’d completely forgotten all about it, like he did most things that had no immediate impact on his own life. But for Gus to take this flight was a screaming admission that he was deliberately trying to hide the trip.
Even that wouldn’t have seemed so disturbing if it had been the only strange behavior Gus had demonstrated in the last few weeks. But Gus had been acting so oddly that Shawn frequently found himself checking the back of Gus’ neck to see if the Martian invaders had been tinkering with his brain.
It all started around the time they were hired to find Macklin Tanner. To Shawn this was the greatest case they’d ever landed. It was, in fact, the very case he’d had in mind when he first decided to become a private detective. In order to solve the crime he and Gus would have to live in a completely virtual world that no one had ever seen before. They were going to be paid to play and win the coolest computer game ever invented.
And yet when Brenda Varda came to them for help, Gus hadn’t wanted to take the case. Instead he kept muttering about how the police had already looked into it and the guy had probably taken off on his own.
That had sparked their first real argument since they had given up trying to agree on whether or not it was right for George Lucas to digitally “upgrade” the original Star Wars movies. Shawn’s point had been simple and, to his mind, obvious-if Tanner had gone for an unannounced vacation, then the case was guaranteed to have a happy ending. If, on the other hand, something had happened to him, then Shawn and Gus were the only ones who could help him. Either way they were going to get paid a lot of money for an experience most people could only dream about.
Gus finally agreed to help on the case, but Shawn could tell his heart wasn’t in it. And once they were actually inside Darksyde City, the game’s fictional locale, Gus managed to be no fun at all. The first two days, he hardly killed anyone, even when a good bit of mayhem might have moved him up a level. It was like he couldn’t wait to get out of the virtual world.
Even when he was back on real ground, Gus seemed distracted, moody, and distant. Shawn tried to ask him if something was wrong, but Gus insisted everything was fine. Then he went back to being a grump.
This was not the Gus Shawn had known for so many years. Yes, he’d always had a tendency toward the judgmental and there was frequently an undercurrent of unnecessary seriousness running through him, but Shawn had never seen him in such a mood for longer than a day or so. Something was wrong.
Then it got worse. For the first time in as long as Shawn had known him, Gus started to become unreliable. He’d come into the office an hour late, claiming that his alarm hadn’t gone off or that he’d been stuck in traffic. And once he got there he’d disappear for hours at a time. When he came back he’d give only the vaguest of excuses, claiming that there was some kind of problem at the pharmaceuticals company where he still maintained a second job as a sales rep.
This behavior presented Shawn with two immediate problems. The first was obvious-a small firm like Psych couldn’t afford to have two partners who were both unreliable, and this had been Shawn’s role since the firm’s founding. It was a position he prized, and he didn’t plan to give it up just because Gus was in a bad mood.
But the second problem was much more serious. Shawn recognized all the excuses Gus was giving him because Shawn had used them himself, over and over again. So he knew these were not only lies, but lazy lies. They were the lies of someone who doesn’t care if anyone believes them. They were the lies of a man who’d moved on.
Shawn had spent a lot of time trying to figure out why Gus might not want to be part of Psych anymore, but he couldn’t come up with a single reason. They did what they wanted when they wanted, took only the cases that sounded like fun, and managed to avoid almost all sense of adult responsibility. Who could ever find fault with that? Who could ever want anything else?
In general, Shawn didn’t like taking on two cases at once. Not since the time he’d gotten mixed up and had accused a suspect in one case of committing the murder in the second. But this was different. One of these cases, as they said on the movie posters, was personal.
So while Shawn continued to search for Macklin Tanner, he was simultaneously going undercover to spy on Gus. Fortunately his cover was strikingly similar to his own persona-in fact, he was going undercover as himself-so he could move back and forth between his two roles without needing to adjust fake mustaches or even change clothes. But while the outside world might see him as a psychic detective hunting for a missing tech genius, secretly he was engaged in spying on his partner.
Gus hadn’t made it easy on him. There were no surreptitious phone calls, no mysterious meetings, not even any unexpected e-mails in any of Gus’ accounts. If he was hiding something, Gus was playing it cool. Which was, to Shawn, the most suspicious sign yet, since Gus and “cool” were almost never mentioned in the same sentence.
Shawn was beginning to think he might have to consult the army field interrogations manual to find the truth when Gus finally slipped up. They were hanging out at the office when Shawn mentioned he was in the mood for pizza from LaVal’s by the Pier, the one place in town that didn’t deliver. This wasn’t the first time Shawn had mentioned this craving, and usually it led to forty-five minutes of Gus refusing Shawn’s offer to wait at the office if Gus wanted to run down and pick up the pie, and then to the inevitable call to Domino’s. But this time Gus didn’t argue at all. He asked what toppings Shawn wanted.
This was the moment. The only reason for Gus to give in so easily was that he was about to make his move. All Shawn had to do was follow him and see where the trail led.
That would have been a lot easier, of course, if Shawn had had any mode of transportation faster than his own feet. Unfortunately Gus had picked him up from his home that morning so they could share the forty-five-minute ride to VirtuActive’s headquarters in Thousand Oaks. If they’d had the foresight to set up a suitcase full of chemicals in the office, Shawn could have hoped for a lightning bolt to spill them all over him, granting him superspeed. But without the proper equipment-or even a cloud in the cool evening sky-chasing Gus’ car on foot didn’t seem like a profitable enterprise.
But he had to know where Gus was sneaking off to. He couldn’t let this chance go to waste.