Rasmussen wheeled back to Lassiter as if he’d forgotten the detective was there.

“He did not,” Shawn said. “He loves being retired. He can spend all his time figuring out ways to torture me.”

“May I speak to you for a moment, Shawn?” Lassiter said. His voice was mild, but his eyes flashed sparks as he walked over to him.

“Hey, I told you to freeze,” Rasmussen said. “And you need to freeze right now.”

“No,” Lassiter said. “I don’t think you’ll want to explain to Henry Spencer why you shot his protege.”

“You are so not my father’s protege,” Shawn said as Lassiter came up with him. “And having put in many years as his unwillingly designated protege, let me say how lucky that makes you.”

“Spencer, I need your help,” Lassiter said. “The forensics team is right outside. If this jackass wants to make a fuss, he can tie them up for hours before they get to the body.”

“He can’t seriously stop your investigation, can he?”

“He can slow it down, and that’s almost as bad,” Lassiter said. “This woman was in your office this morning, and now she’s dead. I am not going to let that stand, and I don’t believe you are, either.”

Shawn glanced over at Gus, who nodded his agreement. “I’m sure my father would love to help out on this case,” Shawn said loudly.

Rasmussen lit up like a kid who’d just seen Santa slide down his chimney. “Really?”

“Only as a personal favor to his protege, of course,” Shawn said. “It would have to be an SBPD case all the way.”

“A joint task force,” Rasmussen said.

“With Santa Barbara in lead position,” Lassiter said.

“Done.” Rasmussen put out his hand.

Lassiter ignored it and marched to the door, where the first members of the forensics team were assembling. “Body’s in the bathroom. Get me something fast.”

“And make sure I get copied,” Rasmussen called as they filed past him. “When are we meeting with Henry Spencer?”