Lassiter’s Lady
Carlton hated the annual detective’s dinner. It meant three hours of boring chit chat about cases that had been solved of the years, each more embellished than the next. Three hours he could be using to solve his latest case before the chief decided to bring the "psychic" in to help.
"Hey, Lassiter, I heard you solved that astronaut thing a while back," one of his fellow detectives said as he worked on his third gin and tonic.
Carlton gave his best fake smile and nodded, "Yeah," was all he said. He knew that he’d had help on that one. O’Hara had done more than she would admit to and, if he were honest with himself, he knew Spencer had helped. He didn’t want to talk about it, because, frankly, he didn’t want to be honest with himself. "Excuse me," Carlton said standing.
As he headed toward the men’s room, he heard a woman’s laugh. He knew that laugh. It was deep and throaty, yet soft and feminine. It belonged to his wife. Carlton turned toward the bar area of the restaurant and saw her sitting on one of the brass stools. Her smile was wide as she spoke to the man next to her. Was she on a date? He headed toward her and stopped, nearly tripping when he saw her date. Spencer?
*****
Shawn looked up to see Lassiter staring at him from across the room. "Hey, Lassieface!" He called over to the detective.
"What?" The woman he’d been speaking to asked looking over her shoulder. Shawn heard her curse under her breath. "You know him?" She asked.
"I sort of work with him," Shawn answered, confused by her reaction.
"He’s my soon to be ex," she told him. "Let’s get out of here. There’s a great Italian restaurant down the road. My treat," she offered, gathering her purse.
*****
"Hey Lassiter," Gin and tonic said taking Carlton’s arm to lead him back toward their table. He was drunk. "We’re about to see who’s solved the most cases this year. Good thing that psychic isn't here. He'd win." The other detective said laughing as though he'd made a huge joke.
Carlton jerked his arm from the other man’s grasp. He’d been about to follow his wife and Spencer out of the restaurant, when Detective Drunk had stopped him. Now, they were gone. But where? The psychic was a notorious flirt. Had he taken her home? No, he told himself, she wasn’t that kind of woman. Not on a first date.
At least, he thought, she hadn’t been when they had been dating years ago. What if she had changed? What if she was trying to sow the oats she hadn’t been able to before they’d married? What if she had decided to live on the wild side?
He left the restaurant feeling sick and angry and hurt.
*****
Carlton had overslept. He’d been up half the night wondering where his wife was spending her night. Had she gone home? Had she gone to Spencer’s apartment? He tried to clear his head as he rushed into the station. He wouldn’t think about it anymore. They were practically divorced. She could do what she wanted.
"Good morning," O’Hara said smiling as he made his way to his desk.
He grunted and pulled a file from his briefcase. He started to head for the chief’s office when he saw Spencer and Guster leaving. "Thanks, Chief," the psychic was saying.
"We should have something for you in a few hours," Guster said, pulling his friend with him.
"Hey Lassie, I met–" Spencer started only to be interrupted by a fist to his jaw.
Carlton didn’t remember throwing the punch. One minute Spencer was standing in front of him speaking, the next he was on the floor holding his face.
"Detective!" The chief shouted from her office door.
"Carlton!" O’Hara said bending to help Shawn up.
"What the hell?" Gus snapped stepping between Shawn and the taller man.
"In my office! Now!" Karen said angrily. "What were you thinking?" She asked as she shut the door behind her.
Carlton watched out the window as Guster and O’Hara led Spencer to a nearby chair. "He’s fine," Carlton said.
"So it’s okay to go around hitting people as long as they’re fine afterward?"
"I didn’t . . . I just saw him and . . ." He didn’t have a good explanation. He could have told her that he’d seen Spencer leave with his wife. He could have told her he suspected they’d slept together. He knew she wouldn’t accept either excuse. And he didn’t blame her. "I’m sorry."
"Don’t tell me," she nodded toward Spencer who was now sitting on O’Hara’s desk. All three of them were watching the chief’s office.
"Fine," he said walking towards the door.
"And Carlton, you’re suspended. Three days."
"Suspended?" He couldn’t believe she was actually suspending him.
"And you had better hope Mr. Spencer doesn’t decide to press charges," she told him as she sat. "Go apologize and take the three days to cool off. Figure out whatever it is that’s bothering you and either fix it or get over it."
He left her office wishing he could slam the door behind him. He went to his desk, grabbed his briefcase and turned to see Spencer standing behind him. "Sorry," he said trying to get out of the station as fast as he could. It was unusually quiet. Everyone was pretending that they weren’t listening.
"Is this about your ex-wife, man? I told. . . "
Carlton spoke through clenched teeth, "We are still married."
Spencer put his hands up as though he was trying to negotiate with someone holding a gun on him, "You have it all wro–"
"I apologized, now get out of my way," Carlton said. He was trying to leave before he hit the psychic again.
"Wait," Spencer called after him, but the detective was gone in seconds.
*****
Carlton knew he needed to blow off some steam. He decided to go and do the one thing that always helped him to relax, ride his horse. Of course, that was something he’d always done with her. It was where they could forget their troubles for a few hours. He pulled up to the stables and threw his jacket and tie in the back of the car. He grabbed his riding boots from the truck and headed into the stables. He stopped at his horse’s stall. He made sure to avoid looking to the right, where she usually kept her horse.
"Afternoon, General Chamberlain," Lassiter greeted his horse. Most people laughed at him when they heard that he had actually named the red chestnut stallion, General Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain, after the Civil War Union General made famous in Gettysburg. His love of the Civil War and admiration for Chamberlain’s courage under fire made the name the logical choice and he was all about logic. Maybe that was part of his problem. She always accused him of being heartless and emotionless. If she knew what this separation was doing to him, she might change her mind.
"Well, Josh," he said as he finished saddling the animal, "I need to go for a ride. You up for it today?" He laughed at himself and walked the horse out of the stable. He was looking down at the ground when a shadow stopped him. He raised his head to see what was in front of him.
"Carlton. I’m surprised to see you here. I’ve been seeing you a lot lately," his wife said to him, coldly. She was leading her horse back into the stable.
"Yes, you have Anita. If you’ll excuse me, I’m here to ride," he said angrily and tried to walk past.
"You know Carlton, all that hostility is not good for your blood pressure," she said sarcastically.
He turned to glare at her. "Neither is seeing your wife on a date with your. . . co-worker."
"Are you talking about me being out with Shawn Spencer last night? Thanks for ruining what was probably going to be a fun night."
"Excuse me?" he asked, confused but his interest was piqued.
"When Shawn found I was your almost ex, he bolted," she said, embarrassed.
"He bolted?" Carlton asked incredulously, not quite believing what he was hearing.
"Well, he didn’t bolt exactly. He explained that he worked with you and didn’t think it was right that he went out with me. He said that you two weren’t exactly fond of one another. Not that it surprises me, you’re such a stick in the mud and he’s so much fun. Anyway, he didn’t want to jeopardize his working relationship with you. He’s such a gentleman, so charming…" She kept talking, but Carlton stopped listening.
He was dumbfounded, speechless. Spencer had left after he'd found out that she was Carlton’s wife. And he had punched the psychic. "Oh man," he said out loud.
"What?" she said annoyed.
He looked at her and she was surprised to see the guilt in his bright blue eyes. He admitted, "I hit him and the Chief suspended me for three days."
"You hit him? Why?" She asked.
"I was pissed and jealous. You’re my wife and, well, seeing you out with someone else was too much, especially being with him."
"Carlton, that’s really sweet, but," she said quietly.
"But what? Let me guess, you don’t know how you feel or if you still love me," he said angrily, "This isn’t fair to me. You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. I punched Spencer in the middle of the station, in front of the Chief. I need to know right now. Do we have a chance or not?"
She looked directly in his eyes and saw the sadness there. "I really did love you once Carlton, but I don’t think this is going to work. You just can’t give me what I need. I’m sorry."
He sighed. That was exactly the response he had been expecting. "I’ll call a lawyer tomorrow and have divorce papers drawn up. All I want is Josh and for you to leave my pension alone."
"Okay, that’s fair. Goodbye Carlton," she said and continued into the stable.
He swung up into the saddle and made Josh tare off into a run.
*****
Carlton stopped his car outside the Psych office. He wasn’t entirely sure this was a good idea. Actually he was pretty sure this was a bad idea. But he needed to apologize to Spencer. After all, Spencer did right by him, it was only right that he return the favor. He got out of the car and walked to the door. He took a deep breath and opened it. The first thing he saw was Gus sitting at his desk typing on his laptop. Then he saw Shawn sprawled out on the couch with an ice pack resting on his jaw. Gus looked up to see who walked in and quickly stood up. Shawn turned his head to see what the noise was, but didn’t move. Lassiter could see the anger in his eyes.
"Listen if you came here to hit him again, you’re going to have to go through me first," Gus said boldly. Lassiter’s eyes widened and Shawn chuckled. Shawn sat up and put the ice pack down on the couch. Lassiter could see the nasty bruise on the side of his face.
"Yes, Gus. I’m sure Lassiter’s petrified now. Is there something we can do for you, Detective or did you actually come to hit me again?" Shawn said. His normal teasing tone was noticeably absent, and Carlton sort of missed hearing it.
"Actually, I’d like to talk to you alone for a minute," Carlton said sincerely.
"I’m not sure I want to do that without witnesses present," Shawn replied.
"Spencer, I’m not going to hit you again," Lassiter growled. Gus frowned and Shawn smiled.
"Okay. Gus, could you give us a minute?" Shawn asked him.
"I don’t think that’s a good idea," Gus said looking at Shawn.
"Its fine, Gus," Shawn said.
"Okay, I’ll be outside," Gus said. He glared at Carlton the whole time he was walking out of the office.
"We tend to be a little protective of each other," Shawn commented when Gus had closed the door.
"Yes, well, good partners usually are," Carlton said not making eye contact with Shawn. The bruise on his face was hard to look at.
The minute of silence was too much for Shawn to take. "So what do you want, Lassiter?"
Carlton chuckled and looked out the window, "Who would have thought I’d actually miss hearing you call me Lassie?"
Shawn looked at him, like he’d grown a third head. It was too bad Lassiter couldn’t see the look of shock on the younger man’s face. "Okay, who are you and where’s the real Carlton Lassiter?"
Carlton turned to look at Shawn. "Listen Spencer, I owe you an apology and a thank you." Shawn stared at him, stunned. "I should have never hit you, even if you were out on a date with my ex. It was unprofessional and childish."
"Yeah, but I didn’t know she was your wife. I swear if I’d known before I asked her out, I would have never gone," Shawn said. Lassiter was taken back by the sincerity he saw in Shawn’s eyes.
"That’s why I wanted to say thank you. Anita told me what you said about not wanting to jeopardize our working relationship. That was thoughtful," Carlton said, struggling to get out the last word.
"Well, Lassie, what can I say, us guys need to stick together. Can’t let the women run all over us," Shawn said, trying to lighten the mood. Lassiter let out an involuntary chuckle.
"Off the record, I value our working relationship also and I hope this incident will do nothing to change that," Lassiter said.
"No, we’re good. Thanks for the apology," Shawn said, smiling.
"Sure," Carlton said, turning to leave, "Oh, by the way Spencer, if you tell anyone that I said that last part, I’ll deny it."
Shawn chuckled and said, "See you at the station, Carlton. I’ll keep your seat warm for the next two days."
Lassiter turned and glared at Shawn, then smiled and said, "Spencer, I don't want you anywhere near my seat." He turned to leave, smiling as he walked out the door.
*****
Henry heard a car pull up onto the driveway. He looked out the window, expecting to see a little blue Yaris, instead he saw Carlton Lassiter’s car. He dropped the blind he was holding up and walked to the front door. Henry opened it before Carlton had a chance to knock. He was puzzled by the expression of apprehension on the younger man’s face.
"Carlton, this is a pleasant surprise," Henry said and smiled. Then he realized that maybe this wasn’t a social call. "Is everything all right?" he asked.
"Hello, Henry. I hope you don’t," Carlton stopped, suddenly understanding Henry’s last question. "Yes, he’s fine. I didn’t hit him again, I swear."
A look of concern, then anger, and then amusement crossed Henry’s face. "You hit my son. Can I ask why?" He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the younger man’s explanation.
"He didn’t tell you about it?" Carlton asked.
"No," was Henry’s only reply. Carlton suddenly felt like he was a teenager explaining why he was late for curfew.
"It’s a long story. Can I come in and explain?" Carlton asked. Henry stared at him for a minute then moved to allow Carlton to step in.
"You want a beer?" Henry asked.
"Oh yes," Carlton said emphatically and Henry chuckled.
"Hey, I can understand the desire to punch my son. Believe me; I’ve had it many times. But what did he do to actually warrant getting punched?" Henry asked, handing an open bottle to Lassiter.
Lassiter accepted the beer and sat down at the kitchen table. "It was a misunderstanding," Lassiter said watching Henry as he joined Lassiter at the table. "I saw him out with my wife, well soon-to-be ex-wife. I just …snapped. He tried to explain it to me and all I could see in my head was that smug look on his face and I just slugged him." He said it with a little too much enthusiasm and looked up guiltily at Henry. Henry had a blank expression on his face.
"Shawn went out with your ex-wife?"
"Yes, but he didn’t know she was my wife. She never changed her last name. Stupid career thing. Wouldn’t even hyphenate it," Carlton grumbled. He knew he was off track and continued, "But she told me, when he found out I was her ex, he backed off. He was worried it would affect our working relationship. Pretty darn thoughtful. So how do I repay him? I hit him in the middle of the police station."
Henry was staring at him. Carlton had the sudden desire to go screaming out of the house. "Wow, I didn’t think he had it in him," Henry said and at Carlton’s expression of disbelief, he continued, "Okay, I knew he had it in him. I just forget he can be that way sometimes. He tends to be thoughtless when it comes to me. Not that I don’t deserve it, but anyway. Is that why you came here? To apologize to me? It’s a nice gesture, but you should be talking to him."
"I did talk to him all ready. Yesterday, after it happened. I actually came here for some advice," Carlton admitted softly.
"Oh, from me? About what?" Henry said, flattered that Carlton came to him.
"Well, I talked to a lawyer today about drafting divorce papers," Carlton said, and then took a large swig of his beer.
"I’m sorry to hear that Carlton. She doesn’t want to try to work it out?" Henry asked sadly.
"No, I don’t even think she really tried while we were separated. I know it made her angry when I dated right after the separation, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to try to save the marriage."
"Listen, once a woman has her mind made up, it’s pretty hard to change it. You didn’t come to me to ask for advice on how to save a marriage, did you? Because my track record is not good. Just be thankful you don’t have kids to drag through this mess," Henry said, and then stood to place his empty beer bottle in the sink.
Carlton watched him walk to the sink and was amazed at the pain he still heard in the older man’s voice. "Actually, I think you just answered my question," Carlton remarked.
"What question?" Henry asked turning to face Lassiter.
"Does it get easier? The pain?" Carlton asked.
"Yes, it does. There’s a lot I wish I could go back and change, but yes it gets easier. You’ll be fine. Besides, I know a couple of nice girls I could fix you up with," Henry said with a smile. "Helen used to be a Vegas showgirl and she can do this amazing trick…"
"Hey, thanks for the beer and the advice. I gotta run. I have a thing," Carlton said and rapidly moved to the front door and out to his car.
"Hey, I’ll call Helen and see if I can get you a date," Henry called from the porch.
"Umm. Please don’t go out of your way. I’m good, really. Gotta go," Carlton slammed the car door and peeled out of the driveway.
Henry chuckled at the look of horror on the younger man’s face. "That’s for punching my kid."