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.