Chapter 25:

All was peaceful in the eerie quiet of the night. The detective, the colleague, and the Time Lord had all eventually succumbed to the lulls of sleep after their long day. The hours went by like a Lord of the Rings marathon: slow and unforgivingly eternal.

The trio, falling into their deep sleep, had not heard the soft stir outside, and had not recognized their open window before letting their minds slip into unconsciousness. A great hooded figure leaned over the opening and peered into the room. It looked over to the man lying flat in his bed, to the other sprawled in his chair with his mouth hanging open, and down at the one in sound slumber below the window frame.

Without a single sound to disturb the three, the shadow slithered through the opening and quietly stepped to the floor, unheard. It crept over to the man laying sprawled on the chair and stopped, as if evaluating the creature before it. The figure pulled a wicked blade from its robes and tapped its pale fingers playfully along its edge in thought. But the man's eyes began to blearily open to meet the hooded thing in front of him and he drew in a panicked breath. But before he could shout, quick as a flash, the figure whirled behind the chair and clamped a cold hand over the detective's mouth, drawing the blade dangerously close to his jugular.

"Shhh." It whispered in the psychic's ear, sending shivers down his back, eyes wide and looking to his friends for help, who were still fast asleep, and undisturbed in their rest. The detective sat in the silent hurricane of panic, his body completely petrified and frozen with fear.

The hooded face leaned in, mere inches from the man's ear, it whispered with a cold sneer lacing each word, "They can't save you now, detective."

The man's eyes strained to see what the shadow was doing, but could only see a set of glistening fangs catch the moonlight from under the hood, nearly touching his exposed throat.

"Shawn! For the love of god wake up!"

Shawn's eyes flew open as the world around him fell apart and retreated back to his subconscious. His vision flooded with light, he was met with Gus' face that was riddled with worry and the Doctor at his side in equal concern. "It's just a dream, Shawn. Come on, we're here." The Doctor put a reassuring hand on the detective's shoulder and shook him slightly.

Shawn let out a sigh of relief and sat straight up in his chair, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. "I'm alright, I'm okay." I must have fallen asleep last night…He composed himself quickly as memories of the nightmare evaporated like mist in the morning light. Looking at the two in front of him, he gave a reassuring smile and said, "Are you two going to stand here all day or are we going to catch a killer?" He got up from the seat and shook the remainders of fatigue out of his system.

Gus and the Doctor visibly relaxed and they stood back up, letting out breath they didn't realize they were holding in. "You scared us there for a minute." Gus sighed.

"Sorry about that," Shawn said, "just a bad dream. But hey! You're awake now, right?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes but smiled to see the detective back to his normal self.

Shawn stopped suddenly in suspended thought, "Wait, what time is it?"

The Doctor answered, "Eight-thirty. What's wrong?"

"Breakfast downstairs ends at nine, we got to get down to the lobby!" Without another moment's hesitation, Shawn burst from his seat and rushed to door, yanking it open and flew out, feet audibly pounding down the staircase towards the lobby.

The Doctor and Gus shared a look before chasing down after him. The Doctor said as they rushed down the stairs, "Well, he won't be needing any coffee this morning."

Gus responded, "Yeah, well neither will we."

After the morning scramble to the lobby to get the remainders of breakfast (much to the manager's annoyance) the group made their way out the double doors back onto the streets once again. There along the building's wall, Arthur stood patiently waiting for the trio to appear outside the complex. When he caught sight of the rag-tag group he waved at them, catching their attention, and beckoned them over.

"Good morning!" He said cheerfully, "Ready to start investigating?"

"Yup!" Shawn nodded, "You know the way to Harold Lee's place?"

"Yes, he lives a few blocks from here. Follow me, it's only a short trip." He began to lead them along the busy street with the trio traipsing behind him.

Shawn, a few steps back from Arthur's range of hearing, leaned in beside the Doctor and asked quietly, "So, what's the plan?"

"What plan? I thought you were in charge." He simply answered.

"Well, sort of. But ever since this has been about homicidal aliens in eighteen eighty-five, I've kind of been trying to keep the ball in your court. I'm like Will Smith's Agent J and you're Tommy Lee Jones' Agent K from Men in Black. But since you're the alien in this scenario too, I suppose that can only make this side-story example either a really awesome plot twist or a great fan fiction idea."

"As much as I'm familiar with extra-terrestrial life and foreign disputes, I'm not the 'psychic detective' here. I can give you sound advice and pointers, but the investigation thing is all yours since you decided to take on this case as lead detective."

Gus suddenly leaned in and added, "Plus, you kind of buddied up with Arthur who's counting on you to solve this case ."

Shawn retorted, "Well it's not my fault that I just attract famous people with my," He raised his hand to the side of his head and squinted, "psychic gifts from the spirits."

Gus swatted the hand down saying, "You're not psychic Shawn. Just be careful about using your 'gifts' around murder mystery authors, like Arthur, who might discover your secret."

"Oh please my worried big baby Burton, he's too dazzled by my performances to notice how I do it. So long as I keep up the show, he'll never know."

The Doctor said, "So you can interrogate Harold Lee even if he's nuts."

"No, I doubt it. But you can."

"What?"

"Sure you can. You told me that you had the weird telepathic thingy from the time with Icarus."

Gus suppressed the urge to guffaw, "Wait, you can read minds too? What else can you do? Raise the dead?"

Ignoring the latter of Gus' question, he sighed and answered to Shawn, "Yes I can read minds, but in this case, only through touch-telepathy. If I have to get information from Harold by doing that with Arthur in the room, then wouldn't it ruin your cover as the psychic?"

"Not if we can conceal it somehow. I think I have an idea for it, but we'll have to cross that bridge when we get to it."

Arthur called back to them from the front, "We're just about here! Shawn." he motioned the detective forward as they walked. Once the psychic drew up to his side, Arthur asked, "What's your plan for going inside? I find it hard to believe that he'd open up to more detectives."

"Fear not author Arthur, just follow my lead without question." He put his hands together in a mock-prayer fashion and opened them to the sky above. "The spirits shall guide us to the key." Without warning, Shawn grabbed Arthur's hand and partially ran/frolicked in a flamboyant fashion in the direction they were walking, as if being led by a supernatural force.

Caught off guard by the action, Arthur stumbled alongside the psychic and tripped over his own feet as he and the detective made their way to a less busy side of town. A few seconds after they entered the new street, Arthur exclaimed, "Ah, there it is!" He pointed over to a small whitewashed house on the side of the road. The grey gloomy street it sat next to appeared to be rubbing off on the establishment's otherwise bright façade. A clean lawn now somewhat unkempt with flowers withering on the porch to match overgrowing bushes lining the house brought with it a sense of dreariness. As they drew closer, they saw closed windows covered by dust, drapes, and iron bars. At the front entrance, an old oak door with shiny new locks decorated its side.

When Shawn came to the front, he stopped suddenly causing the author in tow to skid on the grass and nearly fall to the ground. Regaining his balance, Arthur chuckled and said, "Do you sense something?"

As the Doctor and Gus came running up, Shawn took a moment and answered, "I sense a disturbance in the force."

The author's eyebrows rose up in bewilderment, "What does that mean?"

Shawn mumbled as he looked on at the house, "It means something's wrong..."

When the other two came up to the spot where Shawn and Arthur stood, they walked up to the porch together, Shawn saying, "Doc, I want you to stick with me for the talking. Gus, you and Arthur look around for clues while we're inside, okay?"

Once words of agreement were exchanged, Shawn knocked on the door. After a couple of unresponsive seconds, he tried again. No sounds disturbed the quiet of the house as they listened in anticipation for a response. When none came, Shawn tried the knob and found to his mixture of delight and concern that the door was already unlocked. Sharing a look with the others, he stepped across the threshold into the dark and dusty foyer that was once adorned with paintings now slashed and in ruin on the floor and walls. Two staircases on the sides lead up to a small balcony overseeing the past chaos that had ensued.

An eerie blanket of silence covered the house until Shawn raised his voice, "Mr. Lee?" The detective's voice bounced and echoed off of the empty walls and corridors that lined the ghostly establishment.

Taking in the scene for a few seconds, Arthur said, "Maybe Harold's in the back of the house?"

The Doctor mumbled, "This can't be good." Then said to the others, "Maybe it's best if we split up. Gus, you and Shawn search the upstairs while Arthur and I investigate down here. If you find anything give us a shout."

"Got it." Shawn nodded and headed toward the staircase with Gus behind him as the Doctor and Doyle began searching below in accompanying rooms.

Once the pair disappeared upstairs the Doctor said as they walked amidst the silent house, "Be careful, there could be traps."

"What makes you say that?" Arthur asked as he looked around a corner.

"If Harold is as paranoid as you say, I wouldn't put it past him to try and lure the killer in so he could dispatch him himself."

Arthur scoffed, "Oh please, I doubt it. He's a coward, not a strategist." The two entered a small dining area linked to a kitchen on the side in a wreck of broken ceramic dishes and foul smells of spoiled food. "When I saw and spoke with him, I'd taken him as more of the one who would run away or hide from his enemies rather than confront them. If he would've taken care of the killer, he would have done so by now. Lord knows he has the money to do it."

"Judging by the brand-new locks on the door and the pristine iron bars on all the windows you're probably right."

As Arthur looked in kitchen cabinets and the Doctor ducked to look under chairs and tables, the writer said, "On another note, how did you and Shawn…meet? You two don't seem very much like the kinds of people who would become part of a detective agency."

"Well, it was really just a small negotiation we had to settle simply by chance. Then when all was said and done, I invited him to come…solve more cases with me."

"So, you're the head detective of the group. Not Shawn?"

"Well…we happen to specialize in two completely different areas of investigating crimes. I take on the ones that normally have a lot to do with deeper understandings of culture, facilities, and sciences. Shawn, however, reads people like a book and can analyze possible clues better than anyone I've ever met, plus he has the...spirit thing going for him. So I suppose you could say we just make a good team on our cases."

Arthur nodded and added, "So, where does Gus come into this?"

"Gus? Oh, he's just a childhood friend of Shawn who happens to be experienced in the field of medicine. We decided to bring him along with us for a while."

Arthur's complexion became puzzled as he thought back. "So, why w-"

He was abruptly interrupted by a short shrill cry of terror issued from upstairs. The Doctor and Arthur shared a look of shock before rushing to the source of the scream. Feet pounding up the staircase, the two found a room on the side which was already opened and dashed to the doorway. Looking inside the room they were met with the sight of a dusty disheveled bedroom with Shawn and Gus staring up at the limp hanging form that was once Harold Lee. His neck bound by a rope suspending his pale body from a gas light fixture on the ceiling. The corpse still ever so slowly spinning from its leash.

"Doc." Shawn said, "I think we found Mr. Lee."

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait! But I just wanted to reassure y'all that I'm still writing this story and I won't be leaving it anytime soon. It's still very much a passion of mine that's been put on hold several times for several occasions, but I promise it'll be written! So please forgive my lack of dedicated writing time and stick with it! I appreciate all the support you guys have given me! Oh! And Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy New Year! :D