As soon as they left, Shawn looked at Agent Collins with a flash of anger in his eyes.  They reached Collins’ car before Shawn spoke.

“I can’t believe you’d do this.  I told you and the entire division I quit!  Why are you insisting I be the one to capture Jacques?”

“Because you’re the only one who could see through his disguise, Spence.  I mean, your hyper-observant gift is essential to this!  That’s how you found him last time!” Collins said as they climbed into his car.

Shawn sat down and shut the door.  He looked at Collins, the anger still flashing in his eyes. 

“Look, Spence, I understand that you wanted to live your life here in Santa Barbara.  I can see that Psych is doing really well.  But, you’re an agent first.  You have been for years, and you will be for the rest of your life.  That’s the contract you signed in 2000, Man.  You’re the best we’ve got!” Collins exclaimed.

“Listen, Seamus, I’m not happy at all about this.  I haven’t spoken about the CIA since I ‘came back from the dead’ last year.  Nobody has.  Jules and I have been on thin ice lately, and this may just send me crashing down again,” Shawn said, watching the world fly by.  Seamus was going awfully fast.

“Thin ice?” Seamus asked.

“Yeah, she found out I wasn’t really a psychic.  Considering I lied by omission, she had a hard time forgiving me.  She’s still on the wall about the whole thing, even though we’re dating again.  She’s having trust issues,” Shawn explained.

“I guess I can’t blame her.  I still can’t believe that anyone would fall for you being psychic.  We would’ve kicked you to the curb if you’d said that when we had you in interrogation that day,” Seamus replied as he turned a sharp corner toward the Psych office.

“Oh, please!  You were begging for my help when he escaped!” Shawn insisted.  He looked in the side view mirror and noticed a small, red car behind them.

“Bogie,” Seamus said. 

“I see him now.  Take the cut off up ahead.  We can lose him there,” Shawn suggested as he shifted in his seat. 

Seamus took the left turn and headed down to the interstate.  Just before he got on the ramp, he turned the car right onto a dirt road that led to a construction site.  The little red car followed at matched speed.

“Well, this guy’s incorrigible, isn’t he?” Shawn said, watching the red car fish tail behind them.

Shawn’s eyes focused on the road ahead.  He saw a small path about 600 yards in front of them.

“Take a sharp right up ahead,” Shawn stated. 

Seamus did so, and fish-tailed as the back wheels caught up to the front.  The red car followed right behind, gaining on them with increased speed.

“He’s gaining on us.  Please tell me you carry a spare gun in this car,” Shawn said as he watched the car behind.

“Glove compartment,” Seamus directed.

Shawn reached in and pulled out a 9mm pistol.  He checked the chamber and saw it was loaded.  He pulled back the hammer and readied it to fire, just in case.

“Stop the car up ahead, Collins,” Shawn instructed.

Seamus looked at him, nodded, and slammed on the brakes.  Shawn lurched forward, bracing himself against the dash of Seamus’ car.  The red car didn’t stop and slammed into them, pushing them forward toward a cliff.

“Okay, not the way I wanted to cure my boredom!” Shawn said.

“Shoot out his tire!” Seamus cried, grabbing his own gun and readying it.

Shawn managed to roll down the window and turn to face the red car, which was revving for another round of bumper cars.  He aimed and fired toward the front right tire.  It went flat in seconds.

Seamus aimed for the left tire and did the same.  The car now had two flat tires in the front.  However, it didn’t stop the driver from racing forward again, slamming into the older car.  Shawn watched as they moved within inches of the cliff.  Two hundred feet below was solid rock. 

“Okay, we have to get out of this car, now!” he said to his partner.

“Roger that, Spence.  On the count of three.  One, two, three!” Seamus cried. 

Both men opened their doors in sync, jumping out either side and rolling away from the car as the red car slammed into them one more time.  Seamus’ old car took a nosedive down into the rock quarry below.  Shawn carefully peered over the grass and saw a large gentleman step out of the red car and walk toward the cliff.  He bent over to see if the car had gone over.  A crash and a loud boom indicated just what he wanted.  Satisfied, the large man walked back to his car and checked his tires. 

Grumbling, he took out a cell phone and dialed someone to come pick up his car.  He looked all around, not seeing Shawn or Seamus hiding in the tall grass beside the road. 

Shawn could see Seamus moving ever so carefully, crawling toward a rock nearby.  He watched his CIA partner as he stood up slowly, keeping an eye on the man who’d run them off the road.

Shawn took this as a sign to follow and stood up slowly himself, gun aimed at this dude.  He felt a small twinge of pain in his shoulder, but thought nothing of it as he positioned himself in a firing stance, just like his father had taught him so many years ago.

“CIA!  Freeze!” Shawn shouted.

The man turned around, hands in the air.  The phone was still on and Shawn zoomed in on it.  The caller ID said “Pierre”.  For a fleeting moment, Shawn thought it was Pierre Desperaux, but knew it wouldn’t be the case.

Seamus stood up at that time and pointed his gun, “Hands behind your head and up against the car!”

The man did as he was instructed, dropping the phone in the process.  He leaned against the car, his hands clasped together behind his head. Seamus walked up to him, gun still trained on the guy.  He motioned to Shawn, who walked forward.  He kept his hyper-observant eyes on the guy to make sure he wouldn’t pull a fast one.

“What’s your name?” Shawn demanded.

“What’s it to ya?” the guy said sarcastically.

“What’s your name and who do you work for?” Seamus asked.

“I don’t work for no one!” he replied.

“Then,” Shawn raised his hand to his temple, “Who’s Pierre?”

Seamus smirked, knowing this was Shawn’s process here in Santa Barbara. 

The guy looked spooked, “You’re that psychic guy, aren’t you?” he asked finally.

“Shawn Spencer, psychic detective.  Who’s Pierre?  Is he the one that ordered you to run us off the road?”

“Yeah, he did,” the guy answered.

Shawn loved hearing the nervousness in the guy’s voice, “What’s his real name?”

“I don’t know, I swear!” he said.

Shawn looked closely at him, then nodded to Seamus, “It’s all right.  I sense you’re telling the truth.  You are under arrest, though.”

Seamus slapped some cuffs on him and sat him in the backseat of his own car.  He grabbed the phone, in which that “Pierre” had hung up, and dialed the SBPD.  After a few minutes of talking with the dispatcher, he handed the phone over to Shawn.

“It’s Juliet.  She wants to talk to you,” he said. 

Shawn took the phone and put it to his ear, “Jules?  What’s up?”

“Shawn, are you all right?” she asked worriedly.

“Yeah, we’re fine.  Some guy tried to run us off the road, but we got out before the car fell off the cliff.”

“Fell off the cliff?” Juliet exclaimed.

Shawn flinched at the tone Juliet was using.  It was her ‘What do you mean’ tone.  She only used it when she got angry.  By the sound of her voice, she was ticked off.

“Jules, sweetheart, don’t worry.  We’re fine.  Seamus and I both are okay,” Shawn tried to assure her.

“Shawn, I don’t like this,” Juliet voiced her concerns.

She suddenly heard two gunshots and the phone went dead.  Juliet’s heart began to pound.