It was a regular day.

Shawn and Gus had gotten a new case; a luxury yacht went missing, along with the owner, billionaire Billy Yates. Through expert sleuthing and some psychic fake-ness, they were able to solve the case. Billy was murdered by his nephew to get his life insurance and his yacht was sunk off the coast of southern Santa Barbara.

Shawn and Gus had solved another case, received a fat check, and had totally solved it with Shawn’s totally real psychic powers.

Well. Except he didn’t. You did.

You were already on the beach when Shawn, Gus, and the SBPD arrived to question the marina owner. The owner was lying, having been in cahoots with Billy Yate’s nephew, and you kindly let them know that as soon as Lassiter and Juliet had driven away. You told them not only that the owner was lying, but you led them right to the nephew.

How did you know? Was the question on Shawn’s lips. Your answer was simple: You were actually psychic, unlike Shawn.

You let him take the credit. You didn’t want it, anyway. You enjoyed living your life in peace helping your customers with your tarot business. You were always right, of course.

When you heard the knock on your bungalow door, you weren’t surprised. You had a feeling Shawn would be visiting you, and that he needed help. You set down your book, setting your blanket back down on the couch as you head over to your front door, pulling it open.

Shawn stands there awkwardly, hands in his pockets. “Hey there, {{user}}.”