The Red Shadow – El Sombra Rojo

July 10th - 2005

Baja, Mexico  10:00 PM

“I finally have you where I want you, Red Shadow,” Marcos DeSanas said with an evil laugh.

The Red Shadow rolled his eyes, “You realize you’ve said that the last ten times we’ve met, El Burro,” he replied.

DeSanas growled and pulled out a gun, “Maybe so, but this time, I came prepared for your meddling.  Now!”

Suddenly, The Red Shadow was surrounded by about fifty men.  He nodded in approval.

“Okay, you were prepared this time; but, you see Burro, I’m always ready,” he said, whipping out his Bo. 

The fight lasted for quite a few minutes, but The Red Shadow was the one that had fallen.  Marcos flashed a maniacal smile as he made his way toward the vigilante; gun shining in the moonlight from the Mexican skies above.

“Adios, my friend.  I’ll admit, fighting you kept me on my toes, but it’s over now.  I have won,” he said.

The Red Shadow watched as the barrel of the gun got closer and closer. 

“Police!  Freeze, Burro!” cried Lt. Rodriguez, pointing a gun at the crime lord.

With the distraction, The Red Shadow bolted into the night.  He could hear the words of Marcos ringing through the night:

“You’ll pay for this, Red Shadow!  One day, I’ll get my revenge!”

Miles down the road, The Red Shadow took off his red mask and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.  He’d never been so happy to see the local police.

‘Thankfully, they followed my anonymous tip and came when they did,’ he thought as he ducked inside a small opening.

That was the end, though.  This was his last night in Mexico.  It was time for him to go home.

‘Tomorrow morning, I’ll be back where I belong,’ he smiled as he packed his bag, turned off the lights to his Shadow Cave and left.  He took one last look before he did, knowing that he’d done some good in his time here.

‘The Red Shadow will now disappear into the mist,’ he thought jokingly.

With that, the man jumped onto his black Yamaha and drove off, toward the border between Mexico and California.  It was time to return home.

September 15th, 2008

Shawn drew in a deep breath, knowing full well that the man standing in the interrogation room with Lassie, Karen, Jules, Gus, his dad and him was not who he said he was.  No, he wasn’t from the Mexican Government.  His inflection was different; he was from Argentina. He’d reacted to Che and became almost irate.

Covertly, he wrote a note to Juliet and passed it to her by pretending to bump into her on the way out.  He hoped that she’d follow.

Two hours later, it was over.  Sure, Gus lost his Pumas, but all in all, it was a great day.  The gold (minus what Shawn took) would be on its way to the museum.  Shawn was going to put his away for a rainy day, which it really was outside.

Gus had asked him how he knew the guy was from Argentina, his dad jumped in and said something about the winery Shawn had worked at for a year. 

Later on, at home, Shawn twirled a gold coin around in his fingers, thinking back to his days south of the border.  He smiled, shook his head, and placed the gold coin with its brothers in a special hiding place no one, not even his dad, would ever think to look.

It was on that same day, north of Santa Barbara, that a well-dressed man in a white suit and grey tie stepped off a private jet.  A blonde woman on one arm, a black-haired beauty on the other. 

“Hello, Sir!  Welcome to California,” said the baggage handler.

“Hola.  What is your name, my friend?” the well-dressed man asked.

“Carlos,” the younger man replied.

“Here, Carlos, take off for a few days with this,” the well-dressed man said, handing the younger man a wad of cash.

Carlos’ eyes went wide when he saw how much money was there, “I couldn’t, Sir.”

“Take it,” the other man said, placing it in Carlos’ hand.

“T…thank you, Sir,” Carlos stuttered.

“The name is DeSanas, my friend.  Mark DeSanas,” he replied.

August 30th, 2013

Santa Barbara, CA

Psych Office

Shawn sighed as he tossed the toy pineapple up in the air, catching it with perfection every time.  

It had been a few weeks since the fiasco at Lassie’s wedding.  Juliet had started warming up slightly to him, but he was still feeling the chill from her every time he had to ‘divine’ something. It was making his job a little harder.

To top it all off, last week, he practically told the Chief the truth, until Juliet covered for him.  She took the heat, and he thanked her over and over again.  He planned on dinner that night to try and smooth things over a little more.

He was just about to pick up the phone when it rang. 

“Psych!” he said when he answered.

“Mr. Spencer,” the Chief’s voice greeted him, “We need you and Mr. Guster down here as soon as possible.  There’s been a murder in the warehouse district, near State Street.  I want you to see if you can get anything while the scene is fresh.”

“On my way, Chief.  Gus is out for the moment, but I’ll text him to come to the scene,” Shawn replied.

“Very well.  See you soon, Mr. Spencer,” Karen said, then hung up.

Shawn hung up, then grabbed his iPhone out and texted Gus the details.  Getting up, he realized that he didn’t have a ride to the scene.  Sighing, he pulled out a twenty dollar bill from his secret stash in the wall and went to hail a cab.

*****

Across town, Mark DeSanas looked at the paperwork that sat on his desk.  He glanced up when his right hand man, Carlos Yanez, walked in with a smile on his face. 

“Is it done?” Mark asked.

“Yes, Sir.  He didn’t know what hit him.  I disposed of the body just as you requested.  Behind the old car warehouse on State Street.  The cops already found it,” Carlos said.

“Good.  You planted the evidence?” Mark asked, flipping a page in the paperwork.

“Yes.  The cops will figure it was his former lover out for revenge.  Two birds with one stone, Sir,” Carlos said.

“Isn’t this job so much better than slinging luggage at the airport?” Mark asked with a grin.

“Much better.  Muy Bien,” Carlos agreed.

“I have another mission for you.  Come over here and look at this paperwork.” Mark stated, motioning his companion over to the desk.

*****

 Shawn looked over the scene, spying anything he could use that Lassie wouldn’t see.  He stopped instantly when Juliet walked up.

“Checking things out?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah.  I found a couple of things that don’t seem to fit,” Shawn whispered.

Lassiter interrupted them, “We found the murder weapon.  A .44 Caliber pistol.  Serial number is filed off, but there’s prints all over it,” he said happily.

“Easy, Lassie.  The spirits are telling me there’s more to this murder.  I need to see the body,” Shawn said.

“Why?  It’s practically open and shut,” Lassiter asked with annoyance.

“Just let him see the body, Carlton,” Juliet said.

“Fine.  They haven’t loaded it yet.  Come on, Spencer,” Lassiter ordered.

 Shawn followed Lassie and Jules over to the stretcher; where the man’s body resided.  It had already been zipped up by the time Shawn got there, so he hadn’t seen the face yet.

When they unzipped the bag, Shawn blinked and did a double take.  His hand flew up to his mouth as he gasped in shock.

“What?  What’s the matter?” Gus asked, who’d walked over just at that moment.

“I…I know this man,” Shawn said sadly.

“You do?  Who is he?”  Juliet questioned.

“Juan Muses.  He was a friend of mine in,” Shawn started.  He stopped when he realized that no one knew about his time in Mexico.  Not even Gus.

“In?” Lassiter prodded.

“…a long time ago,” Shawn finished sadly. 

“Well, that was helpful, Spencer,” Lassie spat.

“Wait, Lassie.  Look,” Shawn said, seeing something sticking out of Juan’s pocket.

Lassiter rolled his eyes, but followed Shawn’s pointing finger.  At first glance, he didn’t know what the pseudo-psychic was pointing at, but then he saw a very faint line on Juan’s chest. 

Lassiter grabbed it with his gloved hand and held it up to the light.  “Hair.  A long, red hair.”

“Juan’s been bald since he was twenty.  It’s obviously not his,” Shawn said.

Buzz held out an evidence bag as Lassiter put it inside.  The head detective then gave Shawn a questioning look, “Maybe you’d better give a statement, Spencer.  If you’ve known him that long, you might know more than you’re letting on.”

Shawn heard the accusation in Lassiter’s voice, “You don’t seriously think *I* did this?”

Lassiter shrugged, “Maybe not, but you might know what he was doing here in Santa Barbara.  Maybe you might know who the hair belongs to?”

Shawn could feel himself fuming, but felt a calming hand touch his shoulder.

“Carlton, Shawn obviously didn’t know his friend was in town.  How could you even think that he’d do something to a friend?” Juliet asked.

Lassiter didn’t say a word, but shook his head and walked away.  Shawn took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves.  Of all the people to get under his skin…

“Shawn, Lassiter’s right about one thing.  You should give a statement on what kind of man Juan was.  That way, we could dig deeper into his history.  Okay?” Juliet asked.

Shawn looked at her, “Yeah, you’re right, Jules.  But will you take the statement?  I don’t think I want to be around Lassie for a bit.  Not until I come up with a great comeback.”

Gus shook his head, “There’s the Shawn I know.”

Juliet smiled, “Yeah, that’s the Shawn I fell in lo…I mean, the Shawn I know.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the three of them until Gus decided to drag Shawn away to the Jamba Juice.  He had ulterior motives, but he wanted to get Shawn away from the scene.

Hours later, Gus was sitting in his chair at the Psych office, eating popcorn and watching a still picture on the TV screen.  Shawn had paused the movie to get something to drink.

“Hurry up!  The longer the movie stays on pause, the shorter the amount of time before the screen is ruined,” Gus said, looking over at Shawn.

He stopped eating immediately.  Shawn was downright distraught; which was an instant red flag for his best friend.

“Shawn?  What is it?” Gus asked.

The faux psychic turned away from Gus, as if embarrassed.  He shook his head, but didn’t speak.

Gus wasn’t going to give up.  He turned off the TV, dropped the remote on the chair and stood by his best buddy.

“What’s wrong?  Is this about Juan?” Gus prodded.

He heard Shawn take a deep breath and let it out slow, “Not completely.  It’s part of it, but there’s something else.  It’s nothing you need to worry about, buddy.  Look, I’m going to head over to Dad’s for a few minutes.  He wanted me to come over anyway.  Probably to clean out something or grab one of my old boxes.  I’ll be back in a while, okay?”

“How?  You don’t have your bike anymore?” Gus asked with a sly grin.

Shawn matched the grin with his own, “I don’t suppose I can borrow the Blueberry?”

Gus dangled the keys, “Not unless I drive.”

“Oh, come on!  I told you I have to go alone.  You know how my dad is when he gets upset with me,” Shawn whined.

“No way, Shawn.  Last time you drove, I had to pay to get the pineapple juice out of the seat,” Gus answered.

“I couldn’t help it!  I told you, I dropped it when someone swerved in front of me.  If I hadn’t dropped my juice, the Blueberry would be in pieces.  In essence, I saved the car by dropping the juice!”

Gus tsked, “Man, come on!  I’ll drive!”

Shawn sighed, knowing he was defeated, for now.  He had to get away from Gus soon, but he figured he might as well humor him for now. 

‘I just have to figure out what Juan was doing here.  He’d been deported years ago and banned from the U.S.’ Shawn thought as he climbed into the passenger side of the Blueberry.

The silence was deafening to Gus on the way to Henry’s house.  Shawn was quiet; too quiet.  Gus did not like Brooding Shawn.  Usually, when he made an appearance, the day dragged by.

“Shawn, how did you know Juan?” Gus asked as they stopped at a red light.

Shawn felt a little surprised at the question.  He wasn’t expecting Gus to push any further.  Then he mentally smacked himself. 

‘Of course he’d keep pushing.  I would,’ Shawn thought.

“I met him while I was traveling,” Shawn answered.

“So, you did know him a long time?” Gus asked.

“Yep.  I…I lived with his family for a while in,” he paused, then figured Gus wouldn’t stop until he got an answer, “Mexico.”

“Wait, you never mentioned you were in Mexico before that little trip we took not too long ago,” Gus stated, recalling the crazy border case with Juliet’s step-father and Shawn’s dad.

“Well, there are a few places I ended up that you and Dad didn’t know about.  But, that’s not important right now.  What’s important is why Juan was here?” Shawn questioned.

“Visiting?” Gus suggested.

Shawn shook his head, “No.  Juan was deported about fifteen years ago because of some criminal activity.  Drugs.  He was banned from the U.S.  He wouldn’t have come back unless he was in trouble.”

“Maybe he got back into the drugs?” Gus offered. 

“I don’t know.  Head to the station.  Let’s go talk to Woody.  He could tell us if Juan had any drugs in his system,” Shawn said.

Gus complied and turned the wheel toward the SBPD.  “You think he’s got the tests back by now?”

“Knowing Woody, he won’t need tests,” Shawn said with a grin.

When they arrived, the duo snuck into the building, crossing fingers they wouldn’t run into Lassie or Jules; at least until they had some answers from the coroner.

They made it to the morgue without so much as a tie flashing around; which somewhat surprised them. 

“Woody!  Think you can do us a favor and keep it from…” Shawn called. 

The detectives stopped suddenly.  Lassie and Juliet were already in there, talking to Woody over Juan’s body.

“Hello, Spencer.  Nice of you to finally join us,” Lassie chided.

Shawn took a deep breath, “Lassie-face, shouldn’t you be home snuggling with your wife?”

Woody jumped in, “I used to snuggle with my wife.  Until I realized I was snuggling with a teddy bear with both eyes missing and a smell of a strong aftershave.”

Four blank looks were all Woody got in response, so he went back to the body, “Juan Muses.  Age of forty-five.  Killed by five shots from the gun you brought in, Detective Lassiter.”

“Were there any drugs in his system?” Shawn asked quickly.

Woody looked a little taken aback at the boldness of the psychic, but complied as he looked at the file. 

“There were a few traces of cocaine in his system.  A few days old, at least,” Woody read from the file.

The others in the room couldn’t help but notice the pained look on Shawn’s face.  Lassiter, in a rare move, put his hand on Shawn’s shoulder, “Looks like your friend needed a hit badly.”

“Never were very good with tact, were you Detective?” Karen asked as she walked in.  Behind her was Henry.

“Dad?  What are you doing here?” Shawn asked.

“Karen called me in, after reading the statement that said you knew this guy.  How could you know him?” Henry pointed at the body.

“Dad, it’s rude to point at a body!” Shawn joked. 

Inside his head, Shawn ran through the last couple of days he’d spent with Juan.

Juan sat down in a wooden chair, opposite Shawn and Juan’s wife, Maria.  He’d just gotten out of rehab after two months.  He looked at Shawn and nodded.

“It’s over, amigo.  No more cocaine.  I will never touch the stuff again,” Juan crossed his heart.

Shawn smiled, “I know you’ll be true to your word, Juan.  No need for The Red Shadow to apprehend you.”

Juan chuckled, “No, no need for that, El Sombra Rojo.”

Maria stood up and walked over to her husband, looking at Shawn after hugging her beloved, “Thank you, Shawn, for what you’ve been doing for all of us here in San Felipe.”

“Until El Burro is in custody, El Sombra Rojo will continue on,” Shawn said.

“I did hear something today when they released me.  El Burro is on the move.  Tonight is a huge shipment of cocaine.  Marcos plans on flooding the border with it by tomorrow,” Juan offered.

“Not if The Red Shadow has any say in it,” Shawn said as he picked up the phone.

“Who are you calling?” Maria asked.

“Lt. Rodriguez.  I’m going to give him an anonymous tip about the shipment,” Shawn replied as he dialed the phone number to the San Felipe Police Department.

“Shawn?  Shawn, are you all right?” Juliet asked, breaking him out of his daydream.

He blinked and looked at his girlfriend (was it still okay to call her that?) and nodded, “Yeah, Jules, I’m fine.  Just remembering the last time I saw Juan alive.  Woody, could the cocaine been forced on him?”

Woody looked at his file, “Yes.  There were abrasions in his throat and under his nose.  Either that or he ate something really sharp.”

“I doubt that, Woodster, but Juan told me, after two months in rehab, he’d never touch the stuff again.  He was a man of his word,” Shawn stated seriously.

“Drug addicts promise they’ll straighten up all the time, then they fall right back into old habits, Spencer,” Lassiter said matter-of-factly.

Shawn pounded his fist on the countertop beside him, “NO!  Juan wasn’t like that!  He stayed true to his word!”

With that, Shawn bolted out of the morgue, breathing heavy and full of anger.

Lassiter raised an eyebrow, “I don’t think, in all the years we’ve known him, I’ve ever seen him get that angry.”

“Shawn has been angry before, Lassiter,” Henry said, “He just usually has a different way of showing it.  I’ll be back.”

Henry walked out after his son, wondering what was going on with the younger Spencer.  It wasn’t like he’d never seen Shawn get so ticked that he would walk off.  But now, with all that they’ve been through, Henry didn’t want to see his son suffer. 

Through some doors and down some stairs, Henry stopped and watched.  Shawn took aim and fired a shot.  Then another and another.

When he was changing clips, Henry took the opportunity.  He walked into the firing range and watched his son reload.

“Shawn?  Is there something you want to talk about?” he asked.

“Not really, Dad,” Shawn said shortly.

Shawn picked up the gun and pointed it at the new target.  Henry watched; impressed that his son, no matter how hard he’d fought the teachings, had learned how to stand and hold a gun. 

Firing ten rounds, Shawn dropped the gun and looked at his dad.  His eyes were wide, but clear.  He pushed the button and brought the target to the front.

Henry looked and saw the holes all in a circle; perfectly centered on the target.  Looking closer, he saw that Shawn had made a smiley face on the target’s head.  He shook his head and chuckled.

“You always have to make a joke, don’t you?” he asked with a laugh.

“You know me, Dad.  It’s how I roll,” Shawn replied, smiling.

Inside, Shawn was saddened by the death of his friend and, really, only other person who knew about his double life back in Mexico.  He had never even shared his vigilante days with Gus, with whom he shared everything with.

‘I’ll find out who killed you, Juan, and I’ll make sure they pay,’ Shawn promised.

Weeks passed, and Shawn had yet to find the killer.  Now, not only did he have to deal with Juan’s killer, but three more bodies had appeared.  There appeared to be a similar MO, but Shawn didn’t know any of the other victims.

Woody had confirmed that all four victims were former drug addicts.  They all had been forced-fed cocaine and died from the overdose. 

It wasn’t until the last victim that Shawn finally found a connection.  A simple business card was the clue.

It had been in the last victim’s pocket.  A woman in her early thirties had been found in an alley behind a halfway house near Second Street; sprawled out like she’d been dragged there in the night.  A kid from the halfway house made the gruesome discovery. 

At first, it looked like the woman had been stabbed multiple times; thus causing her death.  It wasn’t until the autopsy that they found the cocaine in her system. 

Shawn had been looking at everything she owned (privately thanks to Woody) when he found the business card.  His eyes widened when he read the name: Mark DeSanas, Actor/Actress Representative.

“Marcos?” Shawn asked aloud. 

“What’s that, Shawn?” Woody asked.

“Um, nothing, Woodster.  I’m just thinking out loud, is all,” Shawn said.

“Ahh, trying to plan out when the next alien invasion will be?” Asked Woody.

Shawn blinked for a moment, “Yeah.  Yeah, the next invasion.  I’ll see ya later, Woody,” he said, walking out with the card in his hand.

“Shawn?  What’s that?”  Woody questioned of the card.

“Oh, this is an agent I’m looking into.  You know, I could be on one of those psychic shows if I play my cards right,” Shawn lied.

Woody nodded, “Okay.  Break a leg!”

Shawn took off, avoiding any more questions the coroner had.  Now that he had a name, and a very familiar one, he knew what he had to do.

‘I have to start training again.  I can’t let El Burro take over Santa Barbara like he did in San Felipe.  The Red Shadow has to make a comeback, and fast,’ Shawn thought as he crossed through the SBPD toward the doors.

“Shawn!” Juliet called.

“Yeah, Jules?” Shawn asked, stopping near the entrance.

“Did you get anything yet from the woman’s belongings?” she questioned.

Shawn had already put the card in his pocket before entering the main station, so he knew she didn’t see it.

“Nothing that Woody didn’t already decipher.  I’m going to head back to the Psych office.  Gus is there, doing research for the case.  I’ll see you later,” he said, beginning to lean in for a kiss.

“Uh, Shawn.  We aren’t doing that, remember?” Juliet gently reminded him, placing a hand on his chest.

A sudden spark jumped between them.  It was almost like the spark he felt the first time he ‘almost’ kissed her after the bounty hunter case.  The same feeling of love.

“I’ll…see you later on.  I’ll call if we find anything,” he said, backing up.

“Right.  I’ll talk to you later,” Juliet nodded, sitting back down in her chair.

The two didn’t notice Lassiter watching them from the other side of the room with interest.

‘Ever since my wedding, those two have acted really strange toward each other.  It might be time to check up on that,’ he thought, sipping his coffee.

*****

Two more weeks had passed, and two more bodies had appeared.  Karen had officially announced that they had a serial killer on their hands to the media; and warned the public to stay vigilant. 

Shawn, in the meantime, had brought his old costume out of hiding, which was a secret panel in the Psych office.  Gus had never noticed the missing nails to the panel to the right of the closet door.

Shawn’s Bo, his costume and his stack of ‘calling cards’ were still practically in mint condition.  He was practically shocked that it was in that good of condition considering how many fights he’d been in over the years.

He was rather surprised, as well, to find he was still in pretty good shape.  Well, okay, he was better than he had been a couple of years ago.  He had lost weight after a couple of years gaining a few pounds. 

Now, he felt alive as he wielded his old Bo.  It still felt like second nature to him.  After all, the Sensei he studied under in Japan had said he was a natural.

‘Too bad I had to pretend I was terrible at it for that case with the Triads,’ he thought with a chuckle.

It was that same day they had found the sixth body, that Shawn knew it was time.  The Red Shadow was to appear from the darkness in Santa Barbara. 

“Tonight is the night.  El Sombra Rojo es listo,” Shawn said, holding his mask up and smiling.

*****

Darkness had fallen over the pier near the Psych office.  Shawn had waited until it was clear to venture out in his costume.  He didn’t want anyone to think he was a burglar leaving a crime scene or anything like that.

“The last thing I need is attention before I take down Marcos.  Now, to find that no good SOB,” Shawn whispered to himself as he made his way through the shadows.  He had the address of Mark DeSanas’ home, but knew that the man would be smart enough to have guards on every corner around his hacienda. 

 ‘Just have to stake it out and see what the pattern is for the guards.  Then I can come back and take him out,’ he thought as he hid behind a few cars.  A single car drove by, it’s headlights shining brightly.  It was then Shawn realized that it was Lassie’s Ford Fusion going by, toward the Psych office.

“What is he doing?” Shawn wondered aloud; all the while watching Lassie’s car park in front of the office. 

He watched as Lassiter climbed out and look around the pier and boardwalk.  Shawn watched as the detective took something shiny out of his pocket and go to unlock the door, only to find it open.

“Damn!  Why do I forget to lock that door?” Shawn asked himself as he proceeded back to the office.  He had to see what Lassie was up to.

Around the back Shawn went, remembering that the back door key was next to the door in a panel that only he and Gus knew about.  Of course, Shawn checked the back door first and found it open.

‘I’ve got to start writing notes to myself for this,’ he scolded himself as he snuck back into the office.  He figured he would surprise Lassie by turning on the lights.  That was, as soon as he removed the costume.

It was too late.  Lassie turned on the lights and caught the masked vigilante standing near the kitchen.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Spencer?” Lassie asked, looking at Shawn up and down with a perplexed look on his face.

Shawn stayed quiet for a moment, realizing Lassie recognized him, even with the mask. 

“I can’t get anything past you, can I , Lassie?” Shawn asked, removing the red cloth from his face.

“What are you dressed as?  And why?  Wait, I don’t think I want to know,” Lassiter said, waving his hand.

“I’d like to know what you’re doing in the Psych office?” Shawn asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lassie got the deer in the headlight look, “I…I’m just…looking for clues about the serial murders.”

“Here?  Lassie, come on!  If I knew anything, you’d know,” Shawn exclaimed.

Lassiter sighed and sat on the edge of Gus’ desk, “All right, you caught me.  I’m trying to find out why you and O’Hara have been acting so weird toward each other.”

Shawn stared at Lassie in surprise, “Wait, what?”

“You two have been acting strange since my wedding.  I wanted to see if I could find out why,” Lassiter said with a shrug.

“Why would you even care?” Shawn asked gently.

“O’Hara’s my partner, Spencer.  I care about her, and you know that.  I warned you that if you ever hurt her, I’d shoot you repeatedly.  Obviously, I have to evidence to back up my defense.  I know you did something, I just can’t figure out what,” Lassiter said.

‘Oh, boy.  Now I have this to deal with, on top of everything else,’ Shawn thought.

“I think, Lassie, that you should focus on the case,” Shawn said aloud.  He looked over at his desk and saw the card.  He knew he’d have to give up some information, maybe give Lassie a lead, then take care of Marcos himself as The Red Shadow.

“Here,” he said, handing Lassiter the card, “I found this in Selena Rodriguez’s things.  It’s a card for Mark DeSanas.”

“The agent to the stars?” Lassiter asked, looking over the card.

“The very one.  She had just moved here about eight months ago, trying to get into the new Spanish soap opera.  He promised her the world, but that world included drugs.  Unlike a lot of people, she didn’t take the bait and tried to leave.  But, just like the others, including my friend Juan, she owed him money for the drugs.  So, Mark grabbed her in the night, force fed her cocaine, then made it look like someone mugged her.”

“How can you be sure it’s Mark DeSanas?  I mean, he’s a big name in show business,” Lassiter questioned.

“What better place to hide than in plain sight?” Shawn suggested.

The next morning, Shawn paced at the Psych office.  He wasn’t sure how to handle Lassie, considering he’d seen the costume. 

‘If Lassie put two and two together, I’m screwed,’ he thought.

It brought him back to when the Mantis was taking down drug dealers a couple of years back.  Sure, there was a short time when everyone thought *he* was the Mantis, in which he tried to take advantage of until the real one was seen a few hours later, but ever since that day, Lassiter always gave him a sideways glance, as if reading him. 

‘I’m no Mantis, though.  I make sure the people affected are all right,’ Shawn thought.

The door to the office opened; which made Shawn think Gus had finally arrived. 

“Gus!  I need to talk…” Shawn started, but his voice trailed off.

There, in front of him, was Lt. Rodriguez of the San Felipe Police Department.  The man looked a bit older than Shawn remembered, and his eyes held a permanent sadness. 

The older cop looked Shawn up and down, then looked at the Psych logo in the window, “Shawn Spencer, Psychic Detective, hmm?” he said.

“Lt. Rodriguez?  What are you doing here?” Shawn asked curiously.

“It’s Detective Rodriguez, and I’m here because someone named Lassiter called me.  Apparently you’ve had a few murders in the last few weeks, and they were all from around my jurisdiction.”

Shawn mentally stumbled, ‘That was the connection besides Marcos?  They were all residents of the small town?’

“How have you been, Shawn?” Rodriguez asked.

Shawn sighed, “All right, I suppose.  One of the victims was an old friend of ours.”

“Juan.  So I heard from your detective.  Plus I hear Marcos DeSanas is here, as well.  Or, at least a Mark DeSanas.”

Shawn nodded, “Yep.  It’s him.  Marcos, or El Burro.”

Rodriguez shook his head, sitting on the edge of Shawn’s desk.  He then chuckled as he looked at the sign.

“Psychic Detective?  How’d you come up with that one, Sombra Rojo?”

Shawn had been taking a drink of pineapple juice when Philippe (that was his first name) spoke his alter ego’s name.  The glass stayed there, pressed against his lips.

Philippe nodded slowly, “Yep, I know it was you that used to dress in that costume.  I figured it out the night we captured Marcos.  I knew the voice on the phone was yours, but when you said it was The Red Shadow, it clicked.  I kept it quiet, though.  You did a lot of good in your time down there.”

Shawn put his drink down on Gus’ desk, knowing full well that his buddy would yell for not using a coaster.  He sighed, looking at Philippe with an amused glance.

“I tried.  You didn’t happen to mention this all to Detective Lassiter, did you?” Shawn asked, more out of curiosity than worry.

“No.  Something tells me he’s not exactly your number one fan.  But, he did mention you and that you were on this case, as well.  When I heard the name, I couldn’t believe it.  I figured you were dead after you disappeared,” Philippe said, picking up the pineapple stress toy, “You still love the pineapples, don’t you?”

“I am still a huge fan of delicious flavor, old friend.” Shawn said with a smile.

Philippe laughed, “Some things never change, do they?”

The detective’s phone rang at that time, which gave Shawn a chance to think, ‘Since Philippe knows, I just have to be more careful around Lassie.  When the Red Shadow does make his appearance, I have to make sure I’m not photographed or spotted by Lassiter.  Too bad he already saw the costume.’

Shawn looked up as Philippe hung up his cell phone, “Well, that was your detective again.  He wants us down at the station ASAP.  Apparently, another body was found,” he said to the faux psychic.

Shawn growled, “I will take down DeSanas, if it’s the last thing I do.”

Philippe held up his hand, “I’m with you, Amigo, but remember how El Burro is.  He is calculating every step from behind closed doors.  If he doesn’t already, he’ll know The Red Shadow is back soon.”

“I haven’t even really shown up as the vigilante.  I was going to last night, but I was distracted by Lassie.”

“Lassie?” Philippe asked as they made their way to his rental car.

“It’s one of my nicknames for Detective Lassiter.  He hates it, so I use it,” Shawn laughed.

“You were never good with authority figures, were you?”

Shawn shook his head as he got in the passenger side of the blue Chevy Malibu.  Checking things out, he chuckled.

“What?  It’s the car they gave me at the airport?” Philippe defended.

“No, that’s not why I’m laughing.  See, my best friend, Gus, drives a blue Echo.  The nickname we have for it is the Blueberry.  This car is about the same color.  It’s the Snozberry,” Shawn said.

“The what?” Philippe asked as they began to drive to the SBPD.

Shawn began to explain the whole concept while they drove, all the while directing Philippe to the station and making him stop for a churro along the way.

At the station, Lassie, Jules and Gus were sitting in the conference room with Karen and Henry.  In Lassie’s hands was a file.  It wasn’t for the latest murder; but another file that had peaked Lassiter’s interest. 

“Lassiter, why are we all gathered here?  You haven’t said a word since you called us into the conference room,” Henry asked.

Lassiter couldn’t help but hear the tone in the older Spencer’s voice.  He was definitely getting angry. 

‘Doesn’t matter.  What I have in this file is worth the barrage Henry can dish out,’ Lassie thought.

The doors opened to reveal Buzz leading Shawn and Detective Rodriguez in.  Lassiter watched as the two sat down and give each other knowing glances.  Buzz walked out, not a word spoken from the usually peppy cop.

“Okay, Lassie, why are we here and not at a crime scene?” Shawn asked.

“Because that was a ruse to get you here, Spencer.  There isn’t another body, yet.  You see, while I was digging up evidence about one Marcos DeSanas, I came across one very interesting piece of information.  I wanted you to see it first before I told everyone else this juicy tidbit,” Lassie said with a smile.

It was the smile Shawn didn’t like.  He had something on the psychic, and knew it would require some sort of explanation.  With a sigh, Shawn grabbed the file and opened it.

After a few minutes of silence, Shawn grumbled and shoved the file away.  He was caught.  There was no way around this situation.  Henry grabbed the file before Lassiter could and opened it himself.  Shawn prepared himself for the impending barrage of questions.

“May I see that before you say anything?” Philippe said.

Henry looked up at the Mexican detective, looked back down at the file and closed it.  He handed it over to him, all the while giving Shawn a very familiar look; he was ticked.

When Philippe read it, he sighed and shook his head.  Looking over at Shawn, he nodded and handed the file back to Lassiter, who still had a look of triumph on his face.

“Well?  Care to explain?” Lassie asked.

“Maybe you should tell the rest of us what it is, first, Carlton,” Juliet said.

“No, Jules, I’ll tell you what Lassie-face is so happy about,” Shawn said, grabbing the file from Lassie.  He handed it to Juliet and launched into the explanation.

“Marcos DeSanas, or Mark as he’s known here in California, was once a high profile member of the city of San Felipe, Mexico.  He had everything; the cars, the girls, the money.  Everyone thought he was a great man.  But, he held a secret.  He was also a drug and crime lord that went by the code name, El Burro Loco,” Shawn started.

Philippe continued, “El Burro had become a menace, and the San Felipe Police could not figure out how to stop him.  That is, until one night.  Rumors had been cast around about a figure that the locals were calling El Sombra Rojo.”

“The Red Shadow,” Juliet said, looking at the file.  Her eyes glanced up and met Shawn’s.

“That’s right, Jules.  The Red Shadow.  A vigilante in the night that had sworn to defend the people from El Burro and his men.  For almost a year, he fought El Burro, and every night, a small victory.”

“One day, I received a tip from The Red Shadow about a shipment of cocaine that would be coming that night, and that Marcos DeSanas was behind it.  Now, mind you that he had people in the police department.  I found a few good men, which wasn’t many, and we followed the lead.  We caught Marcos just before he killed The Red Shadow.  Before we could question the vigilante, he disappeared into the night, never to be seen again.”

“Until last night, when I saw him in the Psych office.  Only, it wasn’t really him, was it?  It was Spencer, dressed up as him.” Lassie added.

Shawn shook his head, “You didn’t want to ask why I was dressed up, so I didn’t offer an answer.  Instead, I gave you a lead.  A really big lead.  Marcos is your man.”

“Here’s the strange thing, the other victims had nothing on them that indicated Mark DeSanas had anything to do with them.  Yet, one victim has his card and he’s our man.  Now, I know you usually go about accusing people until you finally figure out the right one, but this is a little strange.  It says in this file that you once *worked* for Marcos DeSanas.  Tell me something, Spencer.  If you knew he was so bad, why’d you work for him?” 

“Because he was working undercover for me,” Philippe said before Shawn said anything about The Red Shadow.

“Wait, what?” Henry asked.

“Shawn’s very good at what he does.  He was on the inside to find out what Marcos had planned and what kind of shady deals he was into.  Shawn’s the reason I knew which officers were dirty and which were not.  He’s the reason that his friend was put in rehab and not in jail,” Philippe answered, “He was an officer for the San Felipe Police during his time there.  He was a cop.”

It took a minute for that information to sink in, but Lassie was the first to speak, “What about that ridiculous costume?”

“Lassie, if you had asked, I would’ve told you I was heading to a costume party.  Yeah, the costume was really bad, but I was supposed to be the Red Baron.  You know, the dog Snoopy fights in the song?”  Shawn said.  Inside, he was thankful for Philippe at the moment.

Shawn, Gus, Henry and Philippe were sitting at the Psych office.  Shawn’s dad was extra curious about his son actually *being* a cop while in Mexico.

“So, how did you come about hiring my son with his list of jobs?” Henry asked in amusement.

“List of jobs?” Philippe asked, giving Shawn a sideways glance.

“What?  I couldn’t help it if I mastered every job I’ve ever taken!” Shawn said.

Philippe laughed, “Oh, that.  Shawn was too good to pass up.”

“See, Dad, what happened, that Lassie couldn’t of gotten from that lame file, was I went to Mexico because I’d heard about a different job which sounded awesome.  When I got there, the job had already been taken, but they told me the police department was hiring.  At first, I said no way.  Me, a cop?  Not after what happened here at home,” Shawn started.

Henry shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but kept his attention on his son.

“That’s when I met Marcos DeSanas.  It was almost instant, but I knew the guy was dirty.  I saw a faint line of cocaine under his nose the day I met him.  I had heard rumors of a drug lord known as El Burro Loco, or The Crazy Donkey, the day I headed into San Felipe, and this guy was wealthy, lived in a huge hacienda with tons of servants and girls, plus had about ten cars.  He’d claimed he was from a wealthy family and inherited his parents’ fortune when they died ten years before.”

“Of course, that was the story he told everyone,” added Philippe.

Shawn nodded, “When I figured out what was going on, I went to the police, and I found Philippe, here, or Lt. Rodriguez.  I told him the story and we devised a plan.”

“Wait, did you even tell him that you were trained to be a detective?” Henry asked.

“Yes, Dad.  I told him how my father drilled everything into me from the time I could walk and talk.  You didn’t think he just hired me on my good looks, did you?” Shawn said.

Lt. Rodriguez  looked at the two of them and smiled, “I wish I’d had this kind of relationship with my dad.  He died when I was ten.”

Shawn and Henry stopped arguing and looked suddenly apologetic.  Philippe shook his head, “It’s all right.  He was the reason I became a cop.  He was killed in the line of duty.”

“Sorry, Detective Rodriguez,” Henry said quietly.

Shawn shook his head, “See what you did, Dad?  You drummed up old memories.”

“What about The Red Shadow?” Gus asked suddenly, distracting the two Spencers from any further argument.

Shawn looked at his best bud, then to Philippe with a small, pleading look.

“What about him?  Like I said at the station, he was a vigilante.  We would’ve arrested him, too if we’d had the chance,” Philippe stated.

Gus couldn’t be certain, but Shawn looked slightly nervous for a fleeting moment.  It faded as he looked at Philippe with what seemed to be a grateful smile.

Henry had seen both looks, too.  His interest in his son’s past was suddenly moved up from ‘whatever’ to ‘do tell’ and that was what he was going to get Shawn to do; spill everything.

*****

Mark looked over the paperwork for the newest member of his agency.  A young starlet named Julie O’Hare.  The blonde bombshell walked in, looking, in his own opinion, very sexy, but not overly so.  She was a ten, with that short leather miniskirt and those five inch heels. 

Her blonde hair was down, falling past her shoulders.  The makeup was barely there, but was just enough to accentuate her flawless skin; and those eyes were so deep, he swore he could drown in them. 

“Well, what kind of movies are you thinking about, Ms. O’Hare?  I have plenty of ‘damsel in distress’ movies,” he said.

Julie shook her head, “I’m not into those.  I’m more of a leading lady.  I happen to like it when the woman ends up on top,” she purred.

Mark actually gulped, “I may have a little harder time, but only finding scripts.  You’re a shoe-in for any movie.  Hell, you’d probably get the lead over any guy!”

Julie giggled like a schoolgirl, “Oh, you’re just saying that, Mr. DeSanas.”

“Call me Mark, and no, that is not an opinion.  That’s fact.  Why don’t you read over some of these scripts I have, here.  I want to hear that sultry voice read a few lines.”

Julie walked over, making sure she swayed just right.  Every inch of her was screaming to get out, but she couldn’t.  Juliet O’Hara had a job to do, and she’d be damned if she ran out before she could arrest Marcos DeSanas.

*****

Shawn sighed as he was left to his own devices.  Gus had to finish his route, his dad went to grab some lunch and Philippe went with him; to get the goods on Shawn, he’d said.

Knowing exactly how long it would take for his dad and Philippe to get back, he rushed and grabbed The Red Shadow costume. 

“No time like the present.  Or is it the past?  I’ve heard it both ways,” he said to himself as he slipped on the cape.  The mask came next, then the gloves.

Yes, it wasn’t a perfect costume, but it was a great one to wear for those super-hot days in Mexico.  It kept him cool.

“Maybe I should make a few changes.  Then again, maybe not.  I want Marcos to see the flash of red.  He’s going to flip like one of those toy puppies.  Only, without that annoying barking.”

With that, Shawn went out the back door of Psych, preparing himself for what may lie ahead. 

He knew that he couldn’t just walk up to Mark’s home, expecting to waltz in and take down the crime lord.  No, there’d be guards, and plenty of them.  Shawn did give him credit; he was a smart man.  Almost as smart as Shawn himself.

Steeling through the night, Shawn ducked and weaved toward the DeSanas hacienda.  It took him over an hour, but Shawn never strayed from his quest.  Even passing by the churro cart AND the peanut guy didn’t make the faux psychic/vigilante falter.

He stopped as he saw the glowing lights from the mansion in the distance.  A small smile crept onto Shawn’s face.  Marcos would know The Red Shadow had returned by morning.

Shawn felt his pocket; the lump of his phone and the calling cards telling him he had everything.  With a slight nod, Shawn moved forward to the main gate.  

‘Okay, Shawn, focus,’ he could hear his father’s words in his mind.

Shawn squinted just a bit, to make sure he could make out everything.  Two guards were at the main gate.  He could see four more walking the perimeter.  Upon closer inspection, he saw about six more guards up and down the driveway past the gate.

‘At least a dozen guards outside and I’m betting a lot more inside.  He’s upped the ante since I worked for him in Mexico.  He must be afraid of the cops around here.’

Shawn snuck around, watching the guards’ every move; memorizing every gesture that they made to each other as silent signals.  Soon, he was near the back of the fence.

‘Well, what do we have here?  An unguarded entrance near the back.  Marcos, you should always watch your back,’ Shawn thought as he snuck within the perimeter.

That, unfortunately, was a mistake.  Two guards turned just as Shawn emerged from the gate.

“Hey!  Who are you?” one asked, aiming his rifle at the mysterious figure.

“You can tell El Burro that it’s me, The Red Shadow.  I’ve returned to exact my revenge!” Shawn said in his best Mexican accent.

“The Red Who?” the other guard asked.

Shawn tsked, “The Red Shadow!  Don’t you ever hear Marcos talk about me?”

Both guards shook their heads.  Shawn stood there in disbelief.

“You mean to tell me that El Burro in there has never mentioned his greatest foe?” Shawn asked in surprise.

“Nope, never heard of you.  But, I’m sure Mr. DeSanas would be happy to see you.  After all, he loves to meet fans,” the more burly of the two guards said with a smile.

Shawn sighed, “Man!  C’mon, Son!”

He let himself be dragged off into the hacienda, just as he planned.  Well, at the last minute, he’d planned this. 

“So,” Shawn continued as they made their way up to the doors, “Will I be meeting with him tonight?”

“Mr. DeSanas is eating dinner with a new client.  You’ll have to wait in his office, under lock and key, of course.  Once he’s done, he *might* be in to see you.” The smaller guard said.

“Well, like I said.  Tell him that The Red Shadow would like a word,” Shawn said, dropping his voice an octave on his alter ego’s name.

The two guards laughed and walked through the doors, guiding Shawn through the mansion; which gave the faux psychic a great chance to memorize the entire layout from the main doors to Marcos’ study, which is where they handcuffed him to a chair and locked the door behind him.

As they closed the doors, the bigger, burly man looked at his compatriot with a questioning glance, “Should we tell Mark?”

“Last time we didn’t, we almost came out of here in body bags.  But, this time, let’s send in Frank.  You know, the new blood,” said the smaller man.

“Right, Frank.  He’s expendable,” the bigger guy said with a grin.

The two laughed at their idea, and went off to find the newest member of the organization.  Meanwhile, Marcos took a bite of his stew, smiling at his dinner date. 

Juliet was looking down at her bowl, her appetite completely gone.  Not that she didn’t want the food, but the company was less than desirable.  She looked up to see him staring at her.

“Is something wrong, Julie?” he asked.

Juliet shook her head, “Oh, no.  I’m just not very hungry.  I guess I’m still in awe about this day.  Imagine, I just walked into your office earlier today, and I’ve already got offers from about five different directors?  How is that even possible?”

“I told you, I’m the best agent this side of Hollywood,” Marcos said sweetly.

Juliet stopped herself from rolling her eyes as a kid about twenty cautiously walked into the room and cleared his throat.

“Yes?” Marcos asked angrily.

“Sir, you have a visitor in your office,” Frank said nervously.

Mark raised his eyebrow, “A visitor?  Why is he in my office?”

“He was led there by John and Peter.  I guess he wanted to wait for you,” Frank said.

Mark took the hint, “Oh, it must be one of the directors.  I’m sorry, my dear, but we’ll have to cut dinner short.  I have a very important meeting with a few directors about another actress of mine.  They’re all thinking about dropping her.  She hasn’t shown up for work over the last few days.”

“Oh, no problem, Mr. DeSanas,” Juliet said, getting up and dropping her napkin on the table.

“Mark, please.  Frank, show Ms. O’Hare out, if you will.  Then meet me in my office with John and Peter.  I’d like a word with them,” Mark said.

“Yes, Sir,” Frank said.  He took Juliet’s arm and led her to the front doors. 

“Thank you, Frank,” she said sweetly.

“You know, I can tell the boss likes you.  I don’t blame him, either.  You are beautiful,” Frank said.

Juliet couldn’t help but blush, “Thank you.  I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said as a car came around to pick her up. 

Once inside the car with the door closed, Juliet looked over at her driver.  She sighed and leaned back against the seat.

“That had to be the longest day ever.  I couldn’t wait to get out of there,” Juliet said.

Her driver turned to her, “Maybe so, O’Hara, but we listened to everything in the van.  You have to push him to admit to those murders and being a drug lord.”

“I just hope I can, Carlton,” Juliet said to her partner.

“Let’s go give the Chief what we’ve got so far.  I did see someone taken into the mansion.  I think they snuck around the back.”

“Yeah, Mark was saying it was a director.  You don’t think it’ll be another victim by morning?” Juliet asked, her face suddenly full of fear.

“We’ve got police surrounding the place in plain clothes.  If they take the trash out, we’ll know about it,” Lassiter said as they turned the corner near the Psych office.  For a split second, he wanted to say something about Spencer, but looked over and saw his partner had fallen asleep.

‘Rest now, Juliet.  We’ll put this SOB away for good,’ he thought as he headed back to the station.

Shawn struggled against the cuffs, while looking around the office.  Small details jumped out at him from every angle; a dark spot on the carpet under his desk, candies on the desktop, and a computer which happened to be on.

Carefully, Shawn started scooching over to the mahogany desk.  He was just about where he could see the screen when the door opened.

In walked the burly guy, the small guy and then a young kid.  Behind them was Marcos, talking to them in a not so friendly tone.

“You don’t lock them in my office.  You put them down in the basement.  I thought I told you idiots last time not to do this.  Then, you send the new guy in?  As if I’d blame him for your mistak….The Red Shadow?” Marcos said in disbelief.

Shawn smiled, “So, you do remember me, El Burro.  I figured, with what your lunks were saying, you’d forgotten me.”

Mark straightened his tie and motioned for the three guards to leave, “I’ll talk to you idiots later.  And Frank, tell the rest of the guards to switch out for the night.  You’re in charge now.”

Frank’s face lit up and he nodded, walking out of the room quickly.  The other two slinked out, knowing they were in for it later.

Mark sat down at his desk and turned his chair toward Shawn.  He started chuckling.

“Still the same costume?  I would’ve figured, by now, you would’ve changed something.  Like, maybe become the Yellow Stripe?”

“The Yellow Stripe?  Why would I change my name to that?  The Red Shadow is more elusive and much more intimidating,” Shawn said.

Marcos shook his head, “No, the Yellow Stripe fits you.  You ran that night.  You are nothing more than a coward.”

Shawn tsked, “C’mon, Son!  I’m no coward.  You were caught and arrested by the police.  I merely ran to save my own skin.  You know they wanted me arrested, too.”

Marcos picked up the phone, “Yes, I know.  Which is why I’m calling the SBPD.  They can deal with you.”

Shawn started to struggle again, but stopped when he felt his mask begin to slide off.  Mark took notice and hung up the phone before he finished dialing.

“You know, it comes to my attention I never figured out who you were.  You always looked familiar to me, but I could never pinpoint it.  Now, I have my chance,” Mark said, grabbing the mask before Shawn could move. 

Mark stood there, with the mask in his hand, staring at Shawn’s face.  Recognition clouded his Mexican features. 

“Shawn Spencer?  You’re the Red Shadow?  Oh, this has to be a joke.  There’s no way you could be that clever,” he said with a laugh, tossing the mask on the floor.

Shawn sat there for a moment, letting his words sink in.  Before he said anything, though, Mark spoke again.

“Of course, it does make sense.  How else could El Sombra Rojo have known about all those shipments while you were working for me?  Then, the Red Shadow disappears and so do you.  You were a thorn in my side, Shawn.  But now,” Mark said, taking off the handcuffs, “You’re nothing.  I’ll let you go.  You’re not a threat to me, anymore.”

Shawn stood up and watched Mark carefully.  Slowly, Shawn picked up his mask and placed it on his face.

Carefully backing out, Shawn watched Marcos’ every move as he stepped out of the double doors. 

‘This is too easy.  I’d better watch myself,’ Shawn thought as he went back down the halls.

Mark picked up a phone as soon as Shawn vanished, “The Red Shadow is loose.  Shoot to kill.”

Halfway down the hall, the two men that had brought Shawn into the mansion found the vigilante/faux psychic heading toward the door.

“Hey, stop!” John said.

Shawn moved quickly, trying to outsmart the two guys by maneuvering through hallways and the old ‘door-to-door’ trick he’d seen on those Scooby-Doo cartoons so many times.

For a while, it worked; almost too well for even Shawn’s liking.  He could hear them grumbling about how many rooms were in the mansion.  That’s when he heard a phone ring.

“Did you hear that?” he heard John ask Peter.

“Yeah, a phone.  Sounds like it’s coming from in there,” Peter said.

Shawn fumbled to silence his phone as the ringtone (a lovely rendition of the Phineas and Ferb theme song) played loud and long.  It was Gus calling him.

He finally silenced the phone, cursing Gus’ timing, when the door opened.  Quickly, Shawn hid behind the closet door.

‘Yeah, like they won’t look in here.  Unless…’ Shawn thought, looking at the clothing hanging on the rod behind him. 

Before he knew it, the two dummies were opening the door.  They encountered a janitor behind the wooden frame, sweeping up the floor.

“Oh, hello, gentlemen.  I’m just finishing cleaning out this closet.  Is there a problem?” Shawn asked in his best British accent.

“We heard a phone go off in this room,” John said.

Shawn laughed, “Oh, that?  That was mine!  My wife was calling me, to see when I was coming home.  Which, I’ll be doing in a few minutes.”

“Did you see someone come through here in a red costume?  It had a mask and a cape,” Peter asked.

Shawn shook his head as he placed the broom against the doorframe, “Afraid not, gentlemen.  But if I see him on my way out, I’ll let him know you’re looking.  Goodbye, gentlemen.”

He walked out the door, carefully hiding his costume under the janitor outfit.  ‘That was close.  Thank goodness for that closet of spare costumes.’

Shawn made it out the door and down the drive without being noticed.  By the time he got to the gate, he felt like he’d gotten away scot free. 

What he didn’t know was that the police photographer, who was hiding in a van across the street, was taking pictures of Shawn’s every move.

The next morning, Shawn stretched as he got out of bed.  The night before had already caught up to him.

“I must be more out of shape than I thought,” He said to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

Shawn turned on the faucet and splashed some cold water on his face.  He then went through his usual morning routine; brush his teeth, spike his hair, then get dressed. 

He picked up the janitor costume and placed it in the hamper, thinking it would come in handy on this case or even another case down the road.

His phone rang; sending the theme of Cops through the room, “Lassie?  Since when does he call me?”

“Lassie!  What can I do for you?” Shawn asked after sliding his finger across the phone’s screen.

“Spencer, get yourself in here ASAP!  Don’t stop for anything on the way, either.  Everyone else is here and we want to know what’s going on!” Lassie shouted over the phone.

Shawn held the phone away from his ear while the barrage continued.  Finally, Lassie was quiet, so Shawn began to speak.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.  I still have to get dressed, Lassie-face,” Shawn said charismatically.

“Just get down here!  And I mean yesterday!” Lassie said.

Before Shawn could utter a word about time travel, Lassiter hung up.  Sighing, Shawn pulled on his t-shirt and jeans, tied his sneakers and walked out the door. 

Shawn stopped.  There, in the driveway, was Gus in the Blueberry.  His best friend had a look of anger on his features, which made Shawn nervous about getting in the car.  Slowly and carefully, Shawn opened the door and settled into the passenger seat.

“Hey, Buddy,” Shawn said gently. 

Gus remained silent as he pulled out and headed down the road to the SBPD.  Shawn tried everything to get his friend to talk.  Finally, after a comment about churros (Shawn was hungry) Gus let loose.

“I don’t know what happened in Mexico, Shawn, but with what I’ve already seen at the station, I’m beginning to think we don’t know the whole story,” Gus said, fuming.

“Wait.  You already know what Lassie’s talking about?” Shawn asked.

“I was up there earlier and saw the pictures, Shawn.  Why were you walking out of the DeSanas mansion in a janitor outfit?  Were you investigating without me?” Gus asked, his feelings hurt.

“What?  No, Gus!  I would never investigate without Magic Head!” Shawn insisted.

Gus turned a corner before speaking, “Then what were you doing at the mansion?”

Shawn sighed.  Of all the people he’d ever lied to, he never once felt as guilty as he did right now with Gus.  Silence filled the car, making both detectives uncomfortable. 

Gus took a quick look at his friend, noticing the sudden lack of talking.  When Shawn got quiet, something was wrong.  He turned to Shawn when they were at a stop light.

“Look, I’m just worried.  Yesterday, you and that Detective Rodriguez guy were all buddy, buddy.  He said you were a cop down there.  Then, at the office, I see a look cross over your face.  Worry.  When I mentioned The Red Shadow, you got worried until Philippe said something about him being arrested.  Shawn, what’s going on?”

Shawn sighed.  They had pulled into the parking lot of the SBPD.  He looked at his friend, “I get the feeling you’re about to find out, anyway, Gus.  Come on, let’s see what Lassie wants.”

Both friends got out of the Blueberry and headed into the building in silence.  Shawn was preparing himself, and Gus was full of wonder and worry about his best friend.

Inside, Lassie paced in the conference room, despite the looks he was getting from Karen.  Juliet, Henry and Detective Rodriguez were sitting down at the table, looking down at the top of it with fake interest.

“Where is he, Henry?” Lassiter asked the elder Spencer.

“I don’t know.  Contrary to popular belief, I don’t always know where my son is,” Henry retorted.

The door opened to reveal Gus and Shawn walking in.  Everyone in the room was expecting them to be bickering about something, so the silence was deafening to them.

Before Lassiter could start his barrage against the faux psychic, Juliet grabbed the pictures and marched over to him.

“Shawn, explain,” she said simply.

Shawn grabbed the pictures out of her hand, a brief touch between them.  As he checked them out, he saw that there was no way out of explaining this, unlike when the picture of him showed up at the station after rescuing the toy Darth Vader from the British Embassy building over a year ago. 

No, this picture was crystal clear.  Shawn’s face, full of relief, was prominent in the glossy photo.  He looked up at the gang with a sigh. 

Before he could mutter a word, Lassie spoke up, “Alright, Spencer, out with it!  What were you doing at the mansion last night?  How dare you interfere in our investigation!?”

Shawn blinked.  Their investigation?  They were checking out Marcos?  Shawn’s face lit up.

“You did follow my lead!  Lassie, you did listen!” Shawn said.

“Your lead?  Lassiter, you said you suspected Marcos from the beginning,” Karen said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Lassie looked a little taken aback, “Well, I actually never said it was my lead.  Spencer may have had a hand in it.”

Juliet sighed, “We were doing an undercover operation, Shawn.  You could have ruined everything.”

“Jules, I was careful,” Shawn said.

“Regardless of the circumstances, now that we know you’re on the case too, Shawn, we have to work together on this.  What did you find out last night?” Karen asked Shawn.

Shawn had overheard nothing while he was in the room, cuffed to the chair.  He barely got a glimpse of the computer screen, too. 

“Let me,” he took a glance at Juliet, “ask the spirits.  They can tell me what was on his computer.”

Shawn put his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes, trying to remember what he’d seen.  The images flashed in his mind as he focused on the computer screen.  Being he’d only seen a small fraction, he had to concentrate.

“Next shipment date is….Tuesday the 17th of September,” Shawn said.

“That’s it?  What kind of shipment?  Where?  What time?” Lassiter questioned.

“The spirits are being stubborn today, Lassie.  It’s your energy that’s making them unhelpful.  Wait, is…is that a word, Gus?”

“Yes.  But you could also use helpless, less helpful, etcetera.  Any of them will work,” Gus answered.

“Shawn, may I speak to you for a moment?” Juliet asked.

Shawn knew the look in her eye.  It was the same look she had a few weeks ago at Lassie’s wedding.  She was beyond angry.

“Juliet, let me take care of this.  You get ready to return to the mansion,” Henry said, leading his son outside.  Gus tagged along behind.

Once they were out of earshot, Henry began, “Shawn, what in the hell were you doing there last night?”

“I was checking things out, Dad,” Shawn insisted, which was true.  He was checking things out.

“As The Red Shadow?” Gus asked.

Shawn froze for a second, “Why would you ask that, Gus?”

“You are him, aren’t you?  And that detective knows it.  We could see it in your eyes when you both were talking yesterday,” Gus replied.

It was at that moment that Shawn knew that his best friend and his father both knew.  There was no denying it to them.  They’d eventually find out, anyway.  Slowly, he nodded his head.

Henry ran a hand over his face, “A vigilante?  On top of everything else?”

“Don’t I get some brownie points for being an actual cop, Dad?”  Shawn asked.

Henry turned away for the moment, so Shawn sighed and started to walk back to the conference room.  A hand on his shoulder stopped the faux psychic.

“Shawn,” Henry started, turning his son around, “You…you do get some points for being a cop.  I have to admit, that really surprised me.  The fact that you also dressed up in a costume to fight crime, though…”

“Hey, I had to do something.  When I found out how many of the San Felipe Police Department were on Marcos’ payroll, I knew I had to act.  Dad, you’ve seen how bad cops are.  They will try anything to lead people off the case.  They didn’t know that I was on the good side of the fight.  So, I had to keep up that premise, plus make sure Marcos didn’t win.  That’s why I put on the mask of The Red Shadow, so that I could fight without getting figured out.”

By the time Shawn finished, Lassie, Jules, Philippe and Karen had heard the whole confession. They stood in a circle around the detective, all different looks on their faces.

Juliet’s face held wonder, anger and sadness.  Lassie’s looked stoic, but Shawn could see something in his eyes.  Something along the lines of….pride.  Karen had a similar look, but worry also creased her features.

Detective Rodriguez had a look of knowledge, since he had already known the truth.  Before Shawn could say anything, Lassiter spoke up.

“Back in the conference room, now.  Everyone,” he said, giving a pointed look to Shawn before walking through the double doors.

Gus walked ahead, as did Henry.  Shawn took a deep breath and let it out slow.  They knew.  They knew a little bit of his past now.  It was something he never wanted to get out, but Marcos was the reason why it did.  He knew he had to take El Burro down soon; even if it was the last thing he would ever do.