“These two men are private detectives who have occasionally helped out the Santa Barbara Police Department,” Lassiter said.

“Occasionally?” Shawn said.

“That’s fair,” Gus said. “We don’t solve all their cases.”

“Just the hard ones,” Shawn said.

“Silence!” Lassiter snapped, then turned back to Rasmussen.

“They called me suggesting that the occupant of this house, one Ellen Svaco, might be in jeopardy. When we got here, the door was open-”

“And it sounded like David Hedison was about to be eaten by a spider,” Shawn said.

Lassiter glared at Shawn, then stepped aside, giving Officer Rasmussen a view into the bathroom. “Unfortunately we were too late. I’ve called it in, and the forensics team will be here in a few minutes.”

Rasmussen’s gaze flickered as he saw the body, but it hardened again as he turned back to Lassiter. “So you got a call and you just hoofed it on down here without a care in the world.”

“My ‘care’ was for the victim,” Lassiter said.

“That was pretty good, too,” Gus said to Shawn.

“Worth a one-handed air quote at best,” Shawn said. “I’ve heard Lassie much more condescending than that.”

“Was there some other ‘care’ I should have been concerned with?” Lassiter said.

“Much better,” Shawn said to Gus.

“Something we small-town law folk call jurisdiction,” Rasmussen said. “If you have reason to suspect a crime has taken place on my streets, you call me first.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Lassiter said.

“Try me.”

“Listen, McCloud,” Lassiter said. “This isn’t Dogpatch and it isn’t Hazzard, although if it were, you’d certainly have the shorts for it. This is still Santa Barbara County-”

“That’s right,” Rasmussen said. “Santa Barbara County, not city. You’ve got no jurisdiction here.”