William Rabkin - A Fatal Frame of Mind

That meant finding a place to hide out until they could break the conspiracy and catch the killer. For the moment that wouldn’t be too hard. No one was looking for Gus and Shawn.

But they would be soon. As the manhunt broadened, it was unimaginable that one of the police officers they’d met today wouldn’t realize they’d seen Kitteredge. And once they did, they’d remember who was with him. Unless it was that last cop. He wouldn’t need to remember anything-Shawn had given him a card.

That gave them a few hours to find a hiding place and stock it with all the supplies they’d need until the case was over. Once their faces were on the news, they wouldn’t dare show them in public.

Which brought him to one last option. Gus didn’t think Professor Kitteredge would agree to turn himself in to the police. But if they stopped for lunch, there was no reason Gus couldn’t excuse himself to use the rest room and call Chief Vick. He could even do it anonymously, just a loyal citizen doing his duty by reporting a sighting of a wanted fugitive. He wouldn’t have to worry about Kitteredge being hurt, because the police would not risk using their guns in such a crowded public place. They’d simply surround the table and lead the professor away.

Gus hated himself for even allowing these thoughts to pass through his mind, but at the same time he knew that his self-loathing was completely irrational. Even though he was sure Professor Kitteredge was not a murderer, there was no denying he was a wanted felon. He had taken a police detective hostage and threatened to kill him with a knife that had already taken one life. Gus couldn’t pretend that he was protecting a pure innocent; on one level the man was a criminal.

And it wasn’t like he actually owed Kitteredge the kind of loyalty he gave his clients. After all, Kitteredge had never hired Psych. He hadn’t even come to Gus for help in solving a crime, as Gus had thought when he’d felt compelled to rescue him from the police. No-he’d just sent Gus a form letter begging for a donation. If that obligated him to save the professor’s hide, then he’d also have to rescue the Salvation Army, the Red Cross, the March of Dimes, and every other charity whose pleas clogged his mailbox. And at least the charities sent him personalized return address labels. They were unusable, true, because they had Ziggy on them, but they were a nice gesture. What had Professor Kitteredge ever done for him?

Gus could feel the steering wheel fighting to turn onto the off-ramp that would lead to the restaurant. It really was the correct thing to do. And he and Shawn could still help Kitteredge once he was safely in custody.

But he couldn’t do it. He’d seen the fear in the professor’s eyes when he realized he was being framed for Filkins’ murder. He’d seen Kitteredge’s passion when he thought he was about to discover the clues hidden in the painting. He knew that only Kitteredge had the knowledge to get himself out of this terrible situation, and he needed to be free to do it. Gus had to help.

Gus yanked the wheel back to the left, and the Echo zipped past the exit. He jabbed Shawn gently with his elbow until he woke up.

Shawn blinked a couple of times, then glanced out the window. “So I guess that’s a no on lunch and betrayal,” he said.

“You knew what I was thinking?” Gus said.

“Everyone always knows what you’re thinking,” Shawn said. “You should try to control your facial expressions a little more. Really, you might as well be blinking in Morse code.”

“You were asleep,” Gus said. “You couldn’t have seen my face.”

“I could hear your muscles twitching,” Shawn said. “Do you want me to walk you through your entire thought process?”

Having already sat through it once, Gus had no desire to hear it repeated back to him.

“I’d rather hear yours,” Gus said.

“Okay,” Shawn said. “I was wondering who would win if Julie Newmar’s Cat Woman fought the Michelle Pfeiffer version. And that got me thinking about Halle Berry, and whose side she would fight on. Or would the other two team up against her because her movie destroyed the franchise forever. And then-”

“I mean about what we’re going to do now,” Gus said. “Since you were so avidly following my thoughts in your sleep, you must know how much trouble we’re about to be in.”

“Yes,” Shawn said. “In fact I almost woke up to tell you to knock it off, since you were giving me bad dreams.”

“Then do you have an idea where we should go?” Gus said.

“Well, we’re heading north,” Shawn said. “We could keep going until we cross the Canadian border.”

“That’s thousands of miles from here,” Gus said. “Plus, Canada is a foreign country. We don’t have our passports.”

“Canada is a different country?” Shawn said. “That explains a lot.”

“What it doesn’t explain is what we’re going to do now,” Gus said.

“Maybe you’ll allow me,” Kitteredge said.

Gus glanced in the mirror and saw the professor stretching his neck as he shook off the unpleasant effects of sleeping in the backseat.

“Please,” Gus said.

“We’re going to see the one man in the whole world who can help us,” Kitteredge said.

“If you’re talking about the Wizard, I am not bringing him a broomstick,” Shawn said.

Gus nudged Shawn with his elbow-harder this time.

“Who is this man, and where do we find him?” Gus said.

“To explain who he is could take a lifetime,” Kitteredge said. “But in order to find him, all you have to do is take the next exit.”

“When the professor said that all we had to do to find this man was take the next exit, he neglected to mention that after we took the exit we’d have to drive around in circles for hours,” Shawn said.

That wasn’t precisely true. They had been driving in circles for only forty-five minutes. And it was entirely possible that for most of that time they had actually been going in the right direction. One low rolling hill covered in golden hay and ancient oak trees looked pretty much like every other one.

But now that they were stopped at a T-intersection where the narrow lane that had taken them up a steep hill ended with a choice of left or right turns unless he wanted to go cross-country up the rest of the slope, Gus had a chance to peer around and see a vast vineyard sprawling out at their left.

“I don’t think we’ve been here before,” Gus said. “That vineyard doesn’t look familiar.”

“Because last time we passed it, it was on the right side,” Shawn said. “We’re going back the way we came. Which might be all right, because I’m getting hungry, and pea soup is sounding mighty fine. Pea soup and everything that comes with it.”

Gus knew that Shawn wasn’t referring to the soup toppings Andersen’s offered for an extra couple of bucks: the bacon bits and croutons and little pitcher of sherry that made a bowl into a meal. They needed to find Kitteredge’s friend quickly, or Shawn would be ready to dump the professor under an oak tree and head back home. Gus turned around in his seat to see if Kitteredge seemed to know where they were going.

Judging from the smile on his face, he did. “It’s a geographical anomaly that allows this valley to thrive,” he said gazing out at the vineyard below them. “Because it runs east-west-the only east-west running valley in the Pacific coastal region, by the way-it gets the flow of offshore breezes and fog that temper the otherwise harsh climate and allow for the growth of the vines.”

“That’s fascinating, Professor,” Gus said. “But this might not be the time for a discussion of the local landscape. Except for the part about where on it your friend lives.”