*Slides this under the door, and runs away.*

The Chief had called Shawn, Gus and I to the precinct for something. I was running late after picking Gus up from his day job.

"Where's Shawn?" I ask, not seeing my twin.

Gus pointed out the head of spiked up hair that was poking above a newspaper in the Chief's office. I followed him over, "what the hell are you doing?"

"Checking baseball scores," came the nonchalant reply. "My fantasy team is killing me."

"I told you you should have traded for José Reyes," I commented.

"This is the Chief's office!" Gus snapped.

"I know, she runs the league." Shawn finally looked up from the paper and into the disbelieving face of our best friend. "I'm kidding, she's in a meeting. She won't mind, plus, we look really important hanging out in here." He shifts before standing, "Gus have you tried this chair?" The chair's cushion inflates back up, "it's a pregnancy chair." He sits on it and I can hear the whoosh as the cushion adjusts to his weight. "We have to get one for the office immediately! My birthing canal has never felt so in line."

"Shawn, you don't have a birthing canal. Also over sharing," I pull a grossed out face at him, which makes him chuckle.

"We need to get out of here!" Gus insists.

"She told me to wait," Shawn kicks his feet up on the corner of the desk.

"For what?"

"Gus, I'm not a mind reader."

"No, that's just what we tell everyone," I smirk knowingly.

"I want you to try this chair," Shawn stands and moves around the desk. "I'll sit on the birthing ball. I kid you not, that thing is like a refreshing waterfall cascading down your vertebrae. It might help with your stomach issues."

"Who told you I had stomach issues?" Gus asks suspiciously.

"Uh, my nose. The vent in the bathroom? Air fresheners all over the place?"

"I'm trying a new medication for my lactose intolerance." Gus defends.

"I believe the problem is physical, and I think it can be cured by what I'm now referring to as the magic springy bounce-up chair," Shawn motions to the chief's chair.

Gus walks over to it and starts poking at one of the pillows, making me laugh.

"Hey Shawn," officer Macnab enters the room carrying a drink tray full of smoothies. "Smoothies are here."

"Pineapple?" Shawn asks suspiciously.

"Of course," Buzz confirms as he hands a smoothie to my brother.

"Thanks Buzz," Shawn starts slurping his smoothie.

"You're having food delivered?" I ask, unbelieving.

He looks shocked, "they were already going out!"

Meanwhile Gus had decided the chair wouldn't attack him, so he carefully sat down. There was a whooshing sound as it adjusted to the weight. "Oh, wow."

"What did I tell you?" Shawn leaps up from the ball, and moves over to hand the smoothie to Gus, "now, take a hit off this bad boy and complete the moment, you've earned it."

I notice the Chief walking over, and quickly step out of the line of proverbial fire. "What do you think this is Mr. Guster?"

Gus jumps up from the chair, and looks like he's about to defend himself.

Shawn decides to nudge Gus under the bus, "I apologize this will never happen again. Give me that," my brother all but snatches the smoothie from our friends hand. "What is this, Gus, a smoothie? You know these things stain." Shawn takes a up off the smoothie, "mm but they are very delicious. Chief, would you like some?"

By that time Chief Vick had shooed the boys from behind her desk, and she was angrily fluffing her pillows back up. "That's not my smoothie," Gus cries.

"I don't care who's smoothie it is." The chief closes her eyes with the beginnings of a headache, "I don't even remember why I asked you to stay now."

"You want us on that case with the blonde woman," Shawn launches into a charade of divining the right name before landing on Wilcroft.

"No that's not- okay, wait a minute, were you listening in on my conversation?" The realization came to her.

"I don't know if I heard it psychically or if I saw you walk by with her and detective Lassiter, but I definitely heard the word psychic."

"The woman, Raylene, said she visits an occasional psychic. She wasn't asking for one."

Shawn looked toward me, as I moved closer to the desk, "well not in so many words."

"No, not in any words. This is a bank robbery case, we don't need psychics for a bank robbery case."

I speak up curiously, "I didn't read anything in the paper about a bank robbery."

She relaxed a touch, "it was four years ago."

"So it went unsolved?" Shawn comments.

"It was solved," chief Vick ground through her teeth.

"Well then what does she need a psychic for?" Shawn prompts. Gus and I shove his arm, "that is a perfectly reasonable question."

"Thank you chief, we'll be leaving now." I nudge Shawn again.

Shawn stammers, "I'm sorry, I'm still confused."

Vick sets down the glass of water she had been attempting to drink, "her husbands partners are getting out of jail. This is a routine warning that we issue when someone may potentially be in danger."

I decide to wait outside the office, and the boys are chased out just a moment later. I motion to Lassie's desk, where he, Juliet and Raylene Wilcroft are talking.

"This woman is on an eternal quest for a good psychic. That's us! Let's go," Shawn says enthusiastically.

Gus gives him a half hearted glare, "I'm staying right here."

"Great idea, wait ten seconds and make an entrance," he passes the smoothie to Gus, "drink some."

Shawn grabs my arm and pulls me toward Lassie's desk, "your husbands partners are beng paroled today. I have reason to believe their first order of business is gonna be to try and find that lost money."

I tug on Shawn's grasp, "hold up a sec, Lock."

We pause and hear Raylene defend, "but the only person who knew where that money ended up was my husband."

"I know that," Lassie says in his 'head detective' voice. "But do they?"

Shawn and I step forward, "hey Lassie, Juliet."

Shawn glances toward the now confused woman, "I don't believe we've met. Or did we meet? In a bank?"

I shake my head, "no, that's not it. Doesn't matter," I give a friendly smile to Raylene, "I'm Brittney Spencer, this is my associate Shawn."

"We are the official head psychics here at the department." Shawn continues.

Raylene looks very interested, just as Lassie cuts in, "you don't have a title. And there is serious doubt as to wether you're really even psychic."

"We solved the McCallum disappearance, and the Summerland Murder," Shawn defends.

"Oh," I dig in my purse for a second, "and I found your keys, and your badge." I toss both at him.

He glares, "out."

"Brittney, where are my keys?" Gus comes around the corner.

I notice the police file on the desk we were all now crowded around, "excuse us Raylene."

"Do we know each other?" She asks, turning almost fully in her seat.

"No we don't, I'm sorry." I motion to Shawn, "we can't exactly turn off our psychic abilities."

She quickly stands, "do you do readings?"

"Yes, we do it all." Shawn confirms, "full service."

Raylene nods eagerly, "I'm a bit of an enthusiast, I used to have a regular girl read for me."

Gus pushes his way between Shawn and I, "really?" He passes her a business card, "here's a card, we're at the beachfront location. I could put my cell number on the back if you have any questions. Anytime, really."

She looks delighted, "thank you, you're so kind." She takes a minute, "this is a pharmaceutical company."

"Uh, like I said, we do it all," Shawn adds in from his new spot behind Gus.

"Well," Raylene smiles, "as I always say, 'a man with many hats-'"

"'Doesn't like his haircut'?" Gus concludes.

"Exactly!" She laughs, "I thought I was the only one who read that book."

"It's my favorite," Gus flirts.

"Mine too!"

"Really?" I cut in as Shawn also speaks up.

"And scene!"

After that Shawn and I went to the Psych office, a lovely little spot on the boardwalk for us to run the psychic detective agency. I walked in to see most of a wall gone, someone had taken it down to the studs, and it had tarps hanging around it. "Someone get angry?"

Shawn glances up from his computer, just as Gus walks in the back door. "Dude, what took you so long? This is good stuff. You gotta see what happened to this car," he was looking into the bank robbery and subsequent crash of Raylene's husband. "I mean it was really- what?"

Gus had been staring blankly at the missing wall, "what happened here?"

"Oh, that? I had a drywaller come in and take out a wall," Shawn goes back to the article on his computer.

"A wall?" Gus shouted, outraged. "This is a rental! What do you think our landlord is gonna say?"

"Gee, I don't know, 'thank you'? Gus this place was way to cramped." Shawn wasn't understanding Gus' worry.

"My name is on that lease!" Gus stepped towards Shawn's desk.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you get a thank you note too."

Gus shook his head, exasperated, "you're taking my name off that lease, and the door, and these Frisbees." The latter item was picked up as Gus examined it.

"Gus, don't be ridiculous. Look, I'm almost certain this isn't a load bearing wall."

"Almost certain, really Shawn? You took down a wall that may've been keeping a roof over our heads?" I chimed in, looking up from the article I was reading about Raylene's husband, David Morrison Wilcroft, Bank Heist Suspect Killed in Fiery Accident.

"If you're that concerned, why don't you go jump up and down in the attic and make sure?"

I scoffed, about to retort when Gus' attitude brightened, "what is she doing here?"

"She's our first real client," Shawn spoke lowly.

I saw Raylene watching us through the window on the interior wall, I still wasn't sure why they needed a window inside but I wasn't consulted for the design.

"Actual client? Hired for the job?" Gus checked.

"Actual client," I confirmed for him, holding up the contract she'd already signed.

Gus went out to fetch her as Shawn sat back behind his laptop, quickly stuffing the papers he'd printed about the case into a desk drawer.

"I have to admit, when I met you at the police station, I was intrigued, so I checked your recent track record." She admitted, sheepish. "It's amazing really!"

"It's a team effort," I shrug her compliment off. "What can we help you with?"

"I need you to get in contact with someone."

Shawn preened, "well tracking people down is our specialty." Gus and I both shot him a look, "what, oh it's not now?"

"This one might be a little tricky," she admitted.

"Your husband?" I guessed, she nodded. "And you need a psychic because he's dead."

"Dead?" Gus shifted, "like dead, dead?" Shawn rolled his eyes at our best friend, "currently being eaten by worms?"

Raylene was taken aback, "he's actually entombed in a mausoleum."

"Gus, he's ascended to the next dimension. It's fine," Shawn reassured.

"No, Shawn. I think we might be at a bit of an impasse."

"What do you need to know?" Shawn ignored Gus completely.

"My husband was not a perfect man. He got himself in a bit of trouble, okay I'll be honest, it was a lot of trouble." She paused as Gus moved away from her, to stand by where I was sitting at another desk. "He got involved in a bank robbery. He was one of three, but the only one who didn't go to prison."

I closed my eyes, "he died, that's the reason he didn't get caught."

Shawn piped up, "I see rain, no roads. There was a fiery crash, wasn't there?"

"Yes," she nodded amazed.

"What would you like us to ask, Raylene?"

"Well, this is hard to say, but he was the one designated to bury the money. They were to all meet later and divide the cash, only his partners were caught first."

A speck of suspicion wormed it's way into my gut, how did she know this? I didn't see it in any of the court reports or press releases.

Gus tapped my shoulder, before he led Shawn and I outside. "Shawn, I don't know how to break this to you, but you are not psychic."

"Clue me in on the problem here," Shawn asked.

"It's a big problem when the job requires extensive conversing with the dead."

"Gus, what's the question she wants answered? Where is the money, right? That doesn't require any actual dead guy chitchat."

"We'll retrace his last steps, interview his associates," I supply.

"Ask a few questions, and bingo!"

"Stop saying bingo Shawn, you know I hate that," Gus scolds.

"Okay fine, Yahtzee."

"We're not doing it, Shawn." Gus storms back into the office.

"Mahjong!" Shawn calls out, "Gus!"

I laugh as I follow them back in.

Gus was confronting our would be client, "Mrs. Wilcroft-"

"Raylene," she corrects.

Gus looks pleased, "Raylene, your problem is outside of our reach." Shawn shakes his head no behind Gus' back, and Raylene grins as she sees it. "You are in real danger, I'd like to recommend police protection," another shake from Shawn.

"Thank you," Raylene says as she shakes Gus' hand.

Gus left the office for the day, and I took down some names and numbers from Raylene. Some family, or good friends of the Wilcrofts at the time of the crash.

"Thanks Raylene, I'll give them a call and we'll meet back here tomorrow night at seven for the seance." I dismiss her pleasantly.

The next day I help Shawn hang a tarp to cover the studs that are left from his wall removal. He also sets up a room divider, a table with a fan underneath, and about twenty candles.

The hours pass as Shawn and I discuss what we'll need to find out from the guests at the seance.

At a quarter of seven the women gather around the table, and we join hands. The lights in the room are dimmed and candles flicker. Shawn stands at the head of the table, wearing a bathrobe covered in cartoon stars.

"Eyes of a serpent, ears of a bat. Send us a signal from beyond-" Shawn starts summoning.

"Shawn."

"I hear a voice!"

"Britt, can I see you both outside?" Gus demands.

"It wants us to go outside," I hear the fan click off as Shawn steps back from the table.

"Now," Gus holds the door open for us. Once we're in the reception area of Psych Gus assesses us, "is that my bathrobe?" He shakes his head as if to clear it, "what are you doing?"

"What does it look like we're doing?"

"We're having a 'seance'," I tell Gus sardonically.

"You can't have a seance!" Gus protests.

"Gus, there are no rules against having a seance. Anyone can have one, it's like a garage sale or plastic surgery."

"Okay, first of all, technically, you need to have a permit to have a garage sale." He informs us, "secondly, you cannot speak to the dead."

"We don't need to speak to the dead," I tell Gus. "All of the people in that room were close to the Wilcrofts at the time of the bank robbery. We can learn almost everything from them."

"We're already onto something. The dead guy was on the lam for three days with the cash. He had help."

"From whom?"

"I'm almost there," Shawn states before he ducks back into the main office.

Gus joins the circle, and I speak up, "Raylene?"

"Yes, Brittney?" She glances at me before closing her eyes again.

"I'm sensing the last tome he called before the accident."

"Ellen was the only one who talked to him," she comments much to Ellen's chagrin.

Shawn nods, "yes I feel that deeply. You didn't tell the police that, did you?"

"No, I was afraid," Ellen admitted, "he's my brother. I didn't want to turn him in.

"Of course not. Where did he call from?"

"A pay phone outside a store, a Thriftymart I think. Up north, he'd been driving." Ellen considered, "I've always imagined it was the one near Pismo."

"Pismo, yes. But the spirits are confused, they need more specific directions. Nearest cross street?"

"Just past the park we used to hike with Roger." Ellen mentioned the name, and I saw the regret cross her face.

"Roger?" I ask. "Who's Roger?"

"He's our cousin."

"Really?" Shawn sends a meaningful look to Gus and I. "But wait, there's more. The spirits are asking me; what is Roger's address?"

Ellen fully looks at Shawn, "I really haven't seen Roger in years."

Shawn slaps the table, "come on Ellen! Work with me! Think harder."

Ellen jumps, "okay, sorry."

"How about a phone number?" I ask.

Gus stands up suddenly, prompting Shawn, "Gus, what've you done? You've broken the chain of spiritual trust."

"I didn't break anything," Gus protests.

Ellen shakes her hands out, "don't ruin it for everyone, Gus."

"I'm not ruining anything," he turns to the widow, "listen, Raylene, I have to apologize to you. You seem like a very decent person. But what you need is protection, not this. A bodyguard, a policeman," he suggests. "I can assure you there's no spirit in here, and let me make you a guarantee. There is absolutely no way there will be any sort of contact with zombies-"

Suddenly the glass of the Psych window shatters in, showering us all with shards. Raylene is the first one up, making sure her friends are okay.

"I think that's all for tonight, ladies." Shawn dismisses as he, Gus, and I step out of the room.

"Did you do that," Gus asks my brother.

"Why would I ruin our totally cool window?"

"For effect," Gus supplies. "Make us think you contacted an evil ghost."

"Gus, please. Why didn't you float that idea by me sooner? That's genius!"

"I think it's safe to say that someone wants us off this case. I saw someone run off," I tell them.

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah," I nod.

Shawn calls out, "ladies, stay here. We're going after them." He pauses, "or it."

I whisper to them, "tacos?"

They nod and we leave the office.

Later that night we stop by the police precinct, and talk to Juliet. "And then the window just shattered."

"And you think ghosts did it?" She questions.

"No," I answer.

"Though there may have been some women present who thought ghosts were responsible." Shawn admitted.

"I blame it on the two convicts from the Holmby Bank robbery." Gus comments.

"I'm sorry, I still don't understand why that means you need to see the entire case file." She says as she sets a file on her desk.

"Oh, no, no Juliet. We don't need to see the whole thing," Shawn tries to negotiate, "just the cover page, one or two others here and there."

"Definitely the witness list," Gus adds.

"Well, you gotta see that," Shawn and I agree.

"And the Chief's okay with this?"

Shawn and Gus' voices pitch up, "oh yeah."

Juliet shakes her head, "I don't think so."

"No?" Shawn pouts.

"No," she walks away with the case file.

Gus chuckles a little, "I likes the other girl better."

"Not me," Shawn checks out Juliet. "Hey, since we're here we should do some digging."

"Good, idea. Why don't you dig me getting the hell out of here and going to get some sleep?" Gus turns on his heel and starts towards the door.

"I'll drive you home," I follow after him, leaving Shawn with a betrayed look on his face.

"I set you up for that! Lobbed it right over the plate!"

Shawn wakes me at an ungodly hour the next morning, "Sher! Let's go! We've gotta get Gus."

"Lock, you can hold your damn horses or I will start removing your favorite dishes from the rotation of meals that I cook for you." I threaten.

That shuts him up long enough for me to get a quick shower, and get dressed in jean shorts, a pineapple tank top and flip flops. "Okay, let's go."

We get into Gus' apartment and I start making coffee for Gus, while Shawn decides to wake Gus up.

"The cousin is the key," I hear Shawn start out of Gus' room.

"Which cousin? The one the sister mentioned?"

I hand Gus a cup of coffee, "and then immediately regretted. You could see it."

"Dude, the guy runs a cemetery." Shawn tells us, "which one? Oh, I don't know, the one David Wilcroft is buried in? I'll bet you dollars to donuts he knows exactly where the money is." Shawn holds out his hand, which is covered in writing. "Look, it's all right here on my hand."

"Roger Blaine?" I squint to decipher the writing.

"Creepy as all get-out," Shawn nods. "Lives on the grounds, alone, no wife, no kids."

That sends us on a road trip, Gus decided that we'd take his company car, the Blueberry, which meant I was stuck in the back seat.

"How much further is this place?" Gus asks after a while of driving.

"I don't know, maybe sixty miles." Shawn says, licking his fingers after finishing a donut.

"Sixty miles? And you didn't get me a donut?"

"I did get you a donut, then I ate it."

I laugh at his antics, and shake a bag at Gus, "don't worry buddy, I got you an extra one."

"At least someone cares," Gus shoots a sideways glance at my nonchalant twin. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Solving a crime? That happens to be our job description."

"No, driving so far on a whim."

I scoff a bit, "Gus, a guy dies and gets buried in the same cemetery his cousin runs? Let alone it's way up the coast in a town with a population of like 200."

"That's not a whim. That's a clue," Shawn agrees.

Gus glances back at us, "you think the cousin has the money?"

"Roger Blaine? That even sounds like an alias!" Shawn considers, "he could've killed Wilcroft. Or it could have been the sister."

"Gus, they're all kind of creepy. Even Raylene, especially Raylene. Who visits a psychic every week?" I comment.

"There's nothing wrong with her!"

"What is this thing you have with women in jeopardy? They have a name for this you know. It's called Stockholm syndrome." Shawn says, being the smartass he is.

"No, it's not," exasperated, Gus corrects.

"Florence Nightingale's disease?" Shawn pauses at the glares aimed at him. "You have an unnatural affinity for this woman that I simply cannot wrap my brain around."

I recall the interactions I've had with her, "she dresses like she's on the way to a PTA meeting."

"She reminds me of somebody who was very important to me," Gus admits.

"Who?"

"Don't worry about it," he deflects.

"Don't say it," Shawn insists. "Don't say Meredith Baxter Birney!"

"It's not MBB," Gus protests, vehemently.

"This is unhealthy," my twin sounds disgusted.

"Okay, you were in love with her, too!"

"He loved her because she was Mrs. Keaton," I interject.

Shawn confirmed, "and she gave birth to APK."

"It's not her anyway," Gus brought us back to the point.

"Then who is it?" I question.

"My babysitter," he admits meekly.

"Gus, Mrs. Pilderman was in her late 60s." Shawn says.

Our friend looks away from the road long enough to glare at my brother, "Mrs. Pilderman was 37 years old and she was a nurse, Shawn. She taught me things, like, you know, about books and art." Things like that."

"Things like skinny dipping?" Shawn suggests.

"I did not go skinny dipping with Mrs. Pilderman!"

"Well at least that sheds some light on the it."

The cemetery owned and run by Roger Baline was fairly small. There were a number of headstones on the grounds, and two buildings. The first was the mausoleum that held Wilcrofts tomb, the second was a rundown house. Faded grey paint with blue trim contrasted the orange of the wooden door.

Shawn knocked a few times, "huh, no ones home."

Gus inhales, "no, somebody's here."

"You can see through doors now, that's the new thing?" Shawn asks sarcastically.

"I can smell the laundry vent." Gus leans forward and begins sniffing the air, not unlike a dog.

"Gus, please with the super smeller! You have to stop." Gus ignores him and continues sniffing, causing Shawn to join in. "Oh, dude, I can smell it too. Jeans, and socks, and underwear, and a Bouce sheet!"

"Make jokes. How long do you think it takes to dry a load of clothes?"

"Thirty minutes," I comment.

Gus leans to try and peer into the window, "somebody's here and not answering the door."

Shawn's taken aback, "Gus, I apologize. That's very impressive detective work. I feel a little bad about the donut thing now," he admits.

"You should."

Shawn tries the door, but it's locked. "Dang it! Let's try the back."

Gus and I follow him around the house, until he pauses and starts pointing to himself and then Gus while making bird noises. Gus smacks him, "just stay and watch."

Shawn sneaks up to the back door, which opens as soon as he reaches it. The man on the other side of the doorframe looking just as shocked as Shawn at the sudden appearance.

I step around Shawn, to stand next to him, "you're not Roger. You're David Wilcroft."

Gus had gotten halfway to the door before Shawn spoke again. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

Gus faints, scattering the file of papers he had on the case around his unconscious self.

I am so sorry for the long, long delay on this. Honestly i wasn't sure if I wanted to write this episode, or how to handle it. To me it feels like this one focuses a lot on Gus, and his potential relationship with Raylene. I didn't want to change the dynamic they have by adding my OC in, so this chapter is a little less AU then some of the other chapters have the potential to be.

Much Love!

-Sher