Chapter 1- New Year’s Day (January)
All is quiet on New Year's Day
A world in white gets underway
I want to be with you
Be with you, night and day
Nothing changes on New Year's Day
U2- "New Year’s Day"
“Shawn, the whole concept of helping is to actually help.”
Shawn Spencer, fake psychic extraordinaire, glanced up from the file he was reading to the frustrated glare of his detective girlfriend, Juliet O’Hara. It was 10pm on New Year’s Eve and they’d spent the last two hours in the SBPD's file room working on end of the year inventory and file sorting. His best friend Gus and Juliet’s partner Carlton had also joined in the “festivities.”
“Sorry Jules but this is so boooring!” Shawn pouted and put away the file. "I'd honestly rather sit on the couch with Gus and watch a marathon of The View."
"I do not watch The View Shawn," Gus protested, looking up from the pile of paperwork in front of him. He'd been delegated to alphabetizing the files while the others put them away.
Shawn grinned, glad to have a distraction and a reason not to work, despite having volunteered both himself and Gus for this project. He put a finger to his head and raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "Wait... I'm seeing someone in duckie PJs crying along with Whoopi Goldberg, while eating an entire pint of ice cream."
Gus shrank under the surprised gazes of the two detectives. "I don't do that! Shawn, stop messing around and file!" Shawn tsked and turned back to the filing cabinet.
“Look!” He gripped a file, yellowed, and obviously one of the older ones. “This one’s from 1965! I wonder if my dad worked here back then.”
Gus wrinkled his nose at his friend. “Dude, your dad would have been, like, eight. I doubt he was toting a gun and solving murder mysteries.”
“Why not? I was.” Shawn shrugged.
Having had enough, Carlton did what he could to get everyone back on track. “Would you two stop it! I would love to get out of here before the next new year, so can we please get back to sorting, and others…,” he glared at Shawn, “… actually start sorting.”
Shawn sighed. “Maaaan…it’s New Year’s Eve. We should be out partying it up, not stuck in a basement.” He shoved the file in the organized pile with more force than was necessary, and wiped away some of the dust that had accumulated on the older filing cabinets. He managed to get another five sorted until he got distracted again by another folder. This one, he noticed, was only from seven years ago, just before he started working for the SBPD.
He looked around to make sure the others weren't going to see him, before opening the cover and scanning the contents. The file was of a gangland style killing that was never solved. The body of a local business man was found behind a dumpster in a back alley, shot in the head once. The killer, or killers, were never caught.
The name on the file, Sebastian Wright, sparked a memory. Sure enough, near the bottom of the page was a note saying that a tip had been called in about the type of car the tire tracks would have belonged to. Shawn frowned, he'd made that call. They should have caught the people responsible since the type of car wasn’t all that common. The tires came in standard for some fancy type of Lamborghini that not many people could afford, let alone want to drive considering how much it cost. Most people with those cars kept them in a garage to show off to their, just as rich, friends.
Knowing they’d either ignored one of his few freebie tips or mucked up the investigation really frustrated him. Shawn squinted and looked at the evidence listed in the file. It was information never released to the public, so he hadn’t known it when he called in the tip.
Shoe print - size 9 wide
Bullet casing - 40 caliber
Tire tracks – Arrow pattern, wide.
It was the shoe size that made him pause.
Size 9… He put a finger to his temple and closed his eyes. He remembered seeing the type of car that those wide tires belonged to. He’d never thought about it, because he figured the police had caught the person responsible for the murder. The car he'd seen belonged to Trevor Jones, the current city administrator. He’d caught glimpses of him at the party he and Juliet had gone to when he was pretending to run for Mayor.
The man was blond haired and a bit bulky, but had oozed charisma and had been surrounded by a large number of guests. Shawn had even overheard him talking about how he had kept his car “cherry,” even though he’d had it for over fifteen years, so Shawn at least knew Trevor had the car at the time of the murder. Plus, after seeing how popular he was, Shawn had given him the once over, wary of anyone who’d steal his thunder at the party and keep him from being the center of attention. So he was absolutely sure the man’s shoes were a size 9.
It was too big of a coincidence to ignore. He’d made wilder assumptions before, and it was worth it for the chance to catch a murderer who had gone free and was currently in a position of power. Those were always the most fun to reveal and it would definitely get him some press.
Even more important, was that Psych could use the money right now. With interim mayor Swaggerty screwing them over at every turn, it had been like pulling teeth to get on a case, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. His dad hadn’t even been that stingy with them and that was saying a lot.
“Look at this, guys…” Shawn stated, walking towards his girlfriend.
Rolling her eyes at him, Juliet turned around just as Shawn, who was paying more attention to the file than where he was walking, kicked a wooden support out from under one of the taller shelves. “Shawn, look out!”
Shawn's eyes shot upward, but he had no time to do much more than throw his hands up, still gripping the file.
The others watched in horror as hundreds of pounds of paper and an entire shelf toppled onto him.