A/N: again, italics signify flashbacks.

"It took a little work, but we eventually sorted through all the names and numbers," continued Veronica.

"Were there in fact four plastic surgeons in Aaron's little black book?"

"As far as we could tell. I ran a check on the four names using one of the P.I. search engines my Dad subscribes to. Only one of them came back looking like a likely prospect."

"What do you mean 'likely prospect'?"

"Well this one, Dr. Leclerc, had had his medical license suspended once, and he'd been in trouble with the law. He'd been arrested three times, twice in Vegas, once in Reno. No charges had ever been filed, but still…. Also, the trips to Vegas and Reno might have been for doctors' conventions or something, but I thought maybe he liked to gamble."

"So?"

"So this Leclerc seemed like the kind of guy who might be willing to help a prisoner escape, if the price was right."

"What did you then?"

"I decided to drive to his office in L.A., just to check things out."

"Why didn't you tell the police or the sheriff?"

"I don't know. It just seemed like such a long shot. I figured if I found anything out, I could tell them then."

"You weren't concerned about going after Aaron Echolls all by yourself?"

"You have to realize, I wasn't expecting to get there at just the right time. I figured that he would have probably come and gone by the time I got there."

"So what were you hoping to find?"

"Evidence that Leclerc was working on Thanksgiving."

"What would that prove?"

"Not much by itself, but I figured that, under the circumstances, it would be enough to go to the police with, and then they could search Leclerc's offices for some sign that Aaron had been there. It has to be impossible to operate on someone without leaving that person's DNA all over the place, right? And then they could find out exactly what Leclerc had done for Aaron, what he would look like now, or once the bandages came off or the swelling went down, or whatever."

"So why didn't you have Logan go with you?"

"We knew the police wanted him to be at home in case Aaron tried to contact him."

"Why didn't you take your own car?"

"I'd left it back at my place. I'd ridden over with Logan."

"So Logan offered to let you use one of his cars?"

"Yes."

"Why would someone like Logan Echolls own a Honda Accord, though?"

"He bought it last summer, after his father was arrested. The paparazzi were after him constantly, and he thought getting a car that wasn't so noticeable would make it easier to avoid them."

"But why not take one of the nicer ones?"

"I wasn't looking for luxury; I just wanted to get there."

"So you drove straight there?"

"Yes."

Veronica pulled into a parking space on a side street, out of sight of most passersby. She got her pistol out of her purse and strapped it to her belt, in front so it could be seen. She unbuttoned the holster strap so she could draw it quickly if she had too, but left the safety on. The neighborhood wasn't quite the South-Central you see on TV, but it wasn't the nicest area either. Next she pulled out a wig. She had decided to go with wavy brown this time. She pulled it on over her head, and used a make-up mirror to make sure it was properly in place, with no stray blond strands showing from underneath. Then she got out her colored contacts: brown, to match the hair. She put them in and then checked to make sure that no blue was showing around the edges. Finally, she tugged her boots off and inserted thick insoles into each before putting them back on. The insoles wouldn't make her look that much taller, but anything that changed her appearance even slightly could make the difference. Satisfied, she slipped on a pair of black leather gloves and got out of the car and headed around the corner into the pawn shop.

"When illegally purchasing a hopefully untraceable firearm that is likely to be used in a major crime very soon after the purchase," thought Veronica to herself, "it is best to be as unrecognizable as possible. Of course, when your dad is an ex-cop who does a lot of work for the public defender and for bail-bondsmen, it's not hard to find out about places where you might be able to discreetly make such purchases, and luckily enough, some of them are open on the holidays."

"Leroy?" asked Veronica as she walked into the store.

"Well, it seems you have the advantage of me, young lady," replied the elderly black man behind the counter, "especially exercising your second-amendment rights as you are," he continued with a glance toward her pistol.

"I like having the advantage. I'm actually in the market for a playmate for Signore Beretta here," she answered, patting the holster.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't help you there. You see, I am not a licensed firearms dealer, and it would be a felony for me to sell you a gun."

"Relax, do I look like five-oh?"

"They never do."

"If I were a cop, this'd be entrapment anyway."

"If I could help you, what sort of equipment would you be looking for?"

"Something untraceable, but also something just a little flashy, with panache."

"If I did sell firearms, I suppose I would go to the trouble of making sure they couldn't be traced back to me, or anyone else, considering, again, the felonious nature of such commerce. What did you have in mind when you requested 'panache'?"

"I was thinking, say, a Baby Eagle?"

"I see the young lady is of discerning taste. I would so like to help you. I did happen to test-fire such a piece not long ago; I don't remember where I got it. Remarkable thing, though, really. I probed the inside of the barrel with a metal instrument, just to get a feel for how polygonal rifling differed from the traditional. The only flaw I noticed was that, when I fired the weapon the first time, the movement of the components rubbed away all the serial numbers."

"They don't make 'em like they used to."

"And IMI usually prides itself on the quality of its craftsmanship. Ah well. I truly am sorry I can't help you."

"How much?"

"Five hundred."

"Done," replied Veronica, handing over the cash she had borrowed from Logan before she left.

"Paper or plastic?"

"Both please."

After Veronica got back to her car, she made sure her purchase was completely wrapped in the plastic bag, and tucked it into her jacket pocket. Only once she had driven a few miles did she take off the wig and put it in the brown paper bag. She stopped again to take out the contacts and toss them, along the box of contacts, in after the wig. Adding the insoles to the bag, she folded the top of the bag down to close it, and threw it and its contents into a trash can on a street corner. Finally, she continued on her way to Leclerc's.

"So what did you do once you got to the doctor's office?"

"I parked down the street, on the opposite side, and waited."