"Shawn concentrate," said Henry Spencer to his young son.

"Dad I don't wanna do this."

Henry rolled his eyes. "You're going to let her beat you?"

Shawn peeked open his eyes and looked over to where his Uncle Dan Spencer and Cousin Cassandra were standing looking smug. Shawn glanced over to Gus, who rolled his eyes.

"Fine," Shawn sighed, closing his eyes again. "Collie, Golden Retriever, Black Lab, White Lab, Pug, Beagle, Bulldog, German Sheppard, Cocker Spaniel, Great Dane, Husky, and…" he trailed off, racking his brain for the answer. They were at the dog park, trying to remember the things they had seen. This was a tradition between Dan and Henry, pit their children against one another, for both Shawn and Cassandra had photographic memory. "I can't remember," he said finally. "Can I open my eyes now?"

Henry sighed in frustration. "No Shawn you may not. Concentrate."

"I am concentrating. I don't wanna do this anymore."

"Do you know what the last ones are sweetie?" asked Dan.

"A Scottie and a Westie," said Cassie proudly.

Shawn opened his eyes and looked at his grinning cousin.

"Once again we win Hank," said Dan. "You're boy is talented, he just needs to grow up a little, put his mind to things. Cassie knows what she wants from life, can Shawn say the same?"

Shawn and Gus exchanged a look. They were 14, of course they didn't know what they wanted from life, and how could a girl of 9 possibly know what she wanted?

Dan laughed. "Come on Hank, I'll let you buy me that steak now."

Henry looked down at his son. "Double or nothing?"


Shawn and Gus strolled down the hallway in the police station heading for the chief's office.

"Did she say why she wanted to see us?" Gus asked again for the fourth time.

"I assume for a case Gus," said Shawn. "What else would it be for?"

Gus shrugged. They stopped in front of the office and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

They entered and stopped short. There were several people inside; the chief, Lassiter and Jules naturally, and then several suited men that Shawn didn't recognize.

"What's up Chief?" asked Shawn.

"These men here are with the FBI. It seems they've been tracking a serial killer from Florida and they believe that he's come here to Santa Barbara."

"And they want my incredible psychic skills to find the killer."

"Actually no Shawn," said Jules, looking uncomfortable.

"What?"

"They don't want your help," said Lassie smugly. "They already have a specialist."

"Is this gonna be like the last 'specialist' who turned out to be the killer?"

"Mr. Spencer," said the chief, giving him a reprimanding look.

"Fine then. If you don't need us then why are we here?"

"Detective Connors requested that you be…involved."

Shawn looked at the two suits, trying to gage which one was Connors.

"Neither of them are Connors. We're still waiting on the detective, her flight was delayed."

Shawn smiled. "Her?"

The three of them shot him a look. "This will not be like the last time Mr. Spencer," said the chief, before turning to talk to the FBI agents, with Lassiter leering over her shoulder to be a part of the conversation.

"Shawn doesn't that name sound familiar to you?" asked Gus in a whisper.

"What, Connors? It's a very popular name." He thought about it for a moment, because now that Gus mentioned it, it did sound familiar. "Oh wait," he said after a moment, but didn't get to finish his thought, because just then Detective Connors got there and he knew why he knew the name.

"Hi Shawn," said the woman in the doorway.

Shawn took a deep, steadying breath, staring at the woman who would no doubt blow his cover. "Hi Cassandra."