He looked up at me from across his desk, but didn't say anything.

There wasn't anything for him to say.

We both knew I was right.

Eventually, he was going to have to start looking for answers again.

He didn't have a choice.

No investigator does.

After a full minute of complete silence, I turned on my heel and walked out of his office, not looking back once.

I wasn't surprised when he actually went through with it. He actually shut down Psych, actually closed the office and took himself off the police payroll.

He just...walked away.

That should have been the end of the story. It was certainly the end of the case. We had our answer, we got justice for Guster...the world made sense again.

What else was left?

But, as it turned out, it wasn't over quite yet.

God, I hate myself sometimes.

Why the hell couldn't I just leave it alone?

Why did I have to eat lunch at my desk that day?

Why did O'Hara have to take the stupid phone call at her desk just a few feet away?

Why the hell did I have to realize it was Spencer?

And for God's sake, why the hell did I have to say anything when I did?

The moment I realized she was talking to him...again...I glared at her. She noticed and glanced over at me curiously.

"What?" she asked. "It's my lunch break. I can make personal calls on my lunch break."

I reached out and snatched the phone away from her before she could even react.

Normally, that's not a maneuver I would try with O'Hara unless I was willing to sacrifice my hand...but this time, I didn't give a damn.

"Carlton!" she snapped, reaching for it again, but I had pushed my chair back out of her range.

"Spencer," I growled into the receiver, ignoring her glare.

"Lassie?" he laughed on the other end. "What did you do? Knock out Jules and steal her phone? If you wanted to talk to me that badly, you could've just called me later. Or you could have texted me. An lol says more than assaulting your partner ever could."

"Shut up, Spencer," I growled, throwing open a file that had been sitting on my desk for a week. "I have a double homicide."

"I'd see a doctor," he suggested. "I think they can remove those with a cream now."

I glared at the phone, like it was the same as glaring at him. "You know what I mean."

There was a long pause on the other end. I could hear him thinking, fighting against it.

I knew it was pointless.

He couldn't fight it.

No investigator can.

"I'm not on the payroll anymore, Lassie," he told me finally.

"Good," I snorted. "Because I'm not planning on paying you."

"Psych is closed," he continued to fight, his voice growing weaker as his arguments crumbled.

"I"m not talking to a damn psychic," I snapped. "I'm talking to you. It's a double homicide, Spencer. No leads. This is your last chance. Are you in or not?"

He sighed.

He didn't want in.

I knew he didn't.

But this wasn't about what he wanted. Not anymore.

Finally, he groaned. "I'm in."