Psyc 03_The Call of the Mild (34 page)

She reached down for him. He didn’t trust her. But he couldn’t refuse. His hands were slipping. She was his only chance. He unclenched one hand from around the branch and stretched up until his fingers met hers. Then he reached a little more and grabbed her wrist. “Now, pull!” he shouted.

She reached down with her other hand, but this one wasn’t empty. She was holding a small plastic box in it with two tines across the top. She pressed a button on its center and a crackle of electricity shot between the tines, then pressed it against the hand Gus was using to hold on to the root. “This will only hurt for a second,” she said.

Jade’s thumb reached for the fire button on the taser. Before she could hit it, her body gave a jerk and she tumbled off the cliff.

Gus managed to free his hand from hers as she fell. He tried to grab the root, but before he could reach it, Jade seized his ankle with both hands, nearly yanking him down with her. They dangled over space from his one hand as the taser exploded into shards on the rocks far below.

Shawn’s face peered over the cliff’s edge. “That’s the trouble with going after the weakest opponent first,” Shawn said. “You leave the stronger ones out there to go after you.”

Gus thrust his free hand at the root, but he couldn’t reach it. He kicked his ankle to keep Jade from pulling him down. But she wouldn’t let go, and he was beginning to.

“Help,” Gus called to Shawn.

“Just hold tight,” Shawn said.

“Oh, thanks,” Gus gasped, his hand slipping off the root. “That hadn’t occurred to me. Maybe you want to come down here and show me how to do it right.”

“No need to get hostile,” Shawn said.

“I’m dangling a million feet in the air by one hand with a mass killer on my ankle and I can’t hold on,” Gus said. “If that isn’t a reason to get hostile, I don’t know what it.”

“How about when you’ve TiVoed
Law & Order,
but the show runs a minute past the hour and gets cut off, so you never get to hear the pithy phrase that ironically sums up everything you’ve just seen?” Shawn said while getting down on his knees and reaching his hand out to Gus.

“My God,” Jade called from below. “Do you two ever shut up?”

Shawn ignored her and said to Gus, “Say, would it be insulting your sense of initiative if I suggested you might want to reach up and take my hand?”

Gus tried. His arm flailed and his fingers brushed Shawn’s hand.

“Grab his hand, you idiot!” Jade called.

Gus took a deep breath and pulled with every bit of strength in his body. He stretched out his hand, slashed through the air with it . . . and made contact. Shawn’s fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“This works much better without the taser,” Shawn called down to Jade. “You might want to take notes for next time.”

Shawn closed his free hand around Gus’, then began to pull. For a moment, Gus felt himself moving slowly upwards. Then the movement stopped.

Then they started to slide back down.

“You’re going the wrong way!” Gus shouted.

“I’m slipping!” Shawn shouted back. “You’re too heavy.”

Gus tried again to kick his ankle free. Jade only held tighter.

“What about Gwendolyn and Balowsky?” Gus said. “Can they help?”

“I’ll be sure to ask them if they happen by,” Shawn said.

Gus and Jade dropped another inch before Shawn managed to stop himself from sliding.

“Jade,” Gus pleaded. “You have to let go. We’re all going to die if you don’t.”

“Seems to me I have a tiny chance of surviving if I hold on, and none if I let go,” Jade said.

“Surviving so you can get the death penalty,” Gus said. “Isn’t it better to let go nobly?”

“Possibly,” Jade said. “But it’s even better if I live and get away.”

Gus felt one of her hands release his ankle. Before he could kick the other one away, she reached up and grabbed his calf. Then she let go of his ankle and used that hand to clutch his belt.

“What are you doing?” he shouted.

“She’s climbing up your back,” Shawn said. “I think she’s going to use us as a ladder and once she’s up top, kick us both over the edge. You’ve got to do something!”

“Like what?”

Jade was grabbing Gus’ collar now, and the shirt pulled tight against his throat. He gasped for breath.

“I don’t know,” Shawn said. “Maybe you could let her know how well this worked out for Ricardo Montalban at the end of
The Wrath of Khan
?”

Gus could see Shawn’s lips moving, but he couldn’t hear the words. “What did you say?” Now he could barely hear his own words.

Jade’s hand was on Gus’ head now and pressing down. He couldn’t see up anymore, but he knew she’d reach Shawn’s arm quickly, and then she’d be at the top—and they’d be at the bottom.

“I said
The Wrath of Kahn,
” Shawn bellowed.

Gus still couldn’t hear him.

It was no use. Gus still couldn’t hear Shawn over the pounding sound that filled his ears. The pulsing, pounding, blasting sound, and the pulsating whooshes of air that were threatening to slam him into the cliff.

Jade’s feet were on his shoulders now, and Gus could raise his head to look for see the source of the noise.

It was Henry Spencer, and he was reaching out a hand to Gus.

This was it, Gus thought. The final hallucination before he died. Then a strong arm reached out and grabbed him and pulled him away from the cliff’s edge.

Away from the cliff’s edge and into the hovering helicopter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

T
he trees towered over them, and the last glint of the setting sun burned orange before it disappeared behind the mountains. Gus leaned back against a huge oak and let out a happy sigh.

“This is the life,” he said.

“See?” Shawn said. “How long have I been telling you there’s nothing to fear about being in the wilderness?”

Shawn got up from his lawn chair and grabbed another hot dog off the hibachi, slapping it inside a bun already liberally smeared with condiments—including ketchup.

“As long as there are no psychotic lawyers chasing you.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be happening anytime soon,” Shawn said. “Unless you define soon as sometime longer than forty-to-life.”

That was the term the DA had offered Jade in exchange for taking the death penalty off the table, and she had accepted. Her only demand was that they find her a maximum-security prison where she’d be allowed to wear at least some small amount of green.

Gus was astonished the prosecutors were willing to give her that much. Once they started digging, they discovered she’d been smuggling tech secrets out of the country for years. Arnold Svaco was actually the third mole she’d had at JPL, although he was by far her favorite. Passing the information through his schoolteacher cousin made it that much harder to connect Jade to any crime.

She might have kept up her espionage for years if it hadn’t been for Archie Kane’s protectiveness towards Rushton. Once he started investigating, Jade knew he’d never stop. And when Ellen Svaco called her at the firm, in a panic, to say she was being followed, Jade realized Archie was about to unmask her. So she stopped him. First she killed both Svacos to make sure they couldn’t inform on her; then she dealt with Archie.

Still, she couldn’t know how much Archie had told anyone else. She needed to disappear. A company retreat gone disastrously wrong seemed like a good way to make that happen. And since Rushton’s retreats were famous for their difficulty and unpleasantness, no one would have any reason to suspect he wasn’t responsible. She’d kill all the lawyers and slip away in a car she’d arranged to have left in a parking lot at the base of the mountain. Maybe a body or two would be recovered over the years, but there would never be a reason for anyone to assume hers hadn’t been eaten by scavengers.

“So I was thinking, Rushton let us keep the backpacks, why not use them?” Shawn said. “You and me, a quick trip to the top of some mountain?”

“Did you have a mountain in mind?” Gus said warily.

“Normally I’d suggest the mountain of fries at BurgerZone,” Shawn said. “But something’s come up and it seems like a good time to get far out of town.”

“When?”

“Now. Run!”

Shawn jumped to his feet, but before he could get away there was a rustle from behind the tree.

“Not so fast.” Henry had come into his backyard with another tray of hot dogs for the grill.

“I’d love one, but I’m stuffed,” Shawn said. “Besides, Gus is desperate to get up the mountain before the season ends.”

“What season?” Henry said.

“Um, mountain season?” Shawn said. “Okay, fine. Let’s have it.”

“Let’s have what?” Henry said.

“The thing you haven’t said all night,” Shawn said. “The thing you’ve been dying to say every second of every day since you plucked us off that cliff.”

“That Shawn broke his promise,” Gus added helpfully. “That he promised to stay out of the case, but ended up right in the middle of it.”

Henry looked baffled. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

“You weren’t?” Shawn said.

“You said you’d stay out of the Ellen Svaco murder case, and you did,” Henry said. “You were following a separate and distinct case, which just happened to dovetail with mine. And good work on that, by the way. You managed so save some lives.”

Shawn stared at him, searching for the trick. “What’s the trick?” he said finally.

“No trick,” Henry said. “I’m proud to have a son who listens to his father—and who knows when not to.”

Gus could see Shawn taking that statement and turning it over in his mind. Poking it, prodding it, dissecting it—and still finding nothing insincere about.

“Thanks,” Shawn finally said. “I guess we can stay to have another hot dog.”

“You sure about that?” Henry said.

“Absolutely,” Shawn said.

“Definitely,” Gus said.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Henry said. “Because speaking of listening, I’ve got some for you to do right now. I’ve decided to put the band back together, and you boys are our first audience.”

“Oh, no,” Shawn moaned.

“Oh, yes,” Henry said. “And there’s no way to weasel out of this one.”

He thrust the plate of hot dogs into Shawn’s hand and headed off to the garage. He threw open the door and climbed behind the drum kit he’d set up there. Ralph, Fred, and Sid all picked up their instruments and plugged them in.

Shawn tossed the hot dogs on the grill and he and Gus strolled over to the garage just as the band started to play.

“What do you know,” Shawn said. “Apparently I will get fooled again.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know it says in the beginning of this book that this is a work of fiction and that any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. I just want to point out here that that’s particularly true in the case of the Isla Vista Foot Patrol, which in real life is a highly regarded law enforcement agency staffed by members of the UCSB Police, Santa Barbara County Sheriff’s Department, and the California Highway Patrol.

As always, I am greatly indebted to
Psych
masterminds Steve Franks, Kelly Kulchak, and Chris Henze for entrusting me with these wonderful characters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

William Rabkin
is a two-time Edgar-nominated television writer and producer. He has written for numerous mystery shows, including
Psych
and
Monk,
and has served as showrunner on
Diagnosis Murder
and
Martial Law
.