"Where are you going, Veronica?" Agent Morris muttered, watching the blonde girl leave her apartment, a box covered in bright green and yellow confetti clutched in her hand. Morris was wrong to assume she was going to bypass the van parked across the parking lot. The van door slid open with a resounding bang.
"Snicker doodles, anyone?" Veronica's tried and true get-away-with-murder smile was pasted upon her face as she proffered the green and yellow box.
"Miss Mars. Did you want something? A pen and paper, maybe, to write down a confession?" Morris fixed Veronica with a steely glare.
Veronica grinned. "Agent Morris, you're just too good for me. All right, you've caught me. My screensaver gave it away, didn't it? Okay, I'll confess. I do love unicorns. Don't you?"
Morris smirked. "Don't think this is going to go away. This isn't high school, Veronica. You're not just going to get off with a few detentions. Why don't you make this easy on yourself…and your father? Just confess."
A flash of uncertainty sparked in Veronica's eyes at the mention of her father, but they quickly hardened, effectively shutting her mind off from the outside world. "Thanks for the advice, Agent Morris, but since you're not interested in my unicorn obsession, I have nothing else to confess. Cookie?"
Agent Willis reached forward and managed to snatch a cookie from the top of the box before Morris could stop him. He hurriedly bit into it, scared that his partner would take it away.
"Mmm! Tha's really goo'," he mumbled.
Veronica raised her eyebrows, curious.
"He's good with a computer and he speaks six languages," Morris said by way of explanation. Despite herself, Morris pointed at the box and asked, "What is that thing?"
"Oh, this? It's a spirit box." Veronica leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "I used to be on pep squad."
Morris studied the girl carefully, her hand clenching the folded piece of paper that had appeared there. "So where's the listening device?"
An insulted look crossed Veronica's face. "Can't a girl just give some thank you cookies to the nice FBI agents who tried to find her ex-boyfriend?"
"No," Morris answered bluntly. "Especially not when you're that girl. I've done my research, Veronica, and Lamb was right, quite possibly for the first time in his life, when he said you were slippery."
Veronica's face took on a dreamy look. "Ah, Lamb. Tell me, did he tell you all about his FBI aspirations? Ooh, did he use the phrase 'big fish, small town'? Bet he did."
"He used it, all right," Willis answered, his mouth finally clear. "Sounded like a moron, too."
With a grin, Veronica asked, "So tell me, how's the search for good ol' Duncan coming along? Got any leads, besides your mistaken belief that I helped him?"
"I'm sure we'll find something."
"Well, have fun. I'm off to another day at the Hellmouth." Veronica's face took on a positively giddy look. "Ooh, are you gonna follow me to class? Word of advice: skip math. Unless you feel like a nap."
"I'll keep that in mind," Morris replied. "See you around, Veronica," she added to the retreating girl.
"Smell ya later!" she called back, climbing into her car and taking off.
"Let's go, Wills," Morris ordered. "Might as well follow close behind. She knows we're coming." The paper in her hand crumpled slightly as she unfolded it, shielding it from her partner. She quickly scanned it, confused as to why Veronica Mars had slipped her a print-out of an email from Meg Manning to Child Protective Services until she realized there was something on the back. A copy of the notebook pages mentioned in the letter. Something was scribbled along the bottom, in stark contrast with the perfectly neat handwriting on the paper's lines:
Meg's little sister wrote these. She's the child in the letters. Maybe Duncan wasn't so wrong after all.
Morris frowned, feeling the lines on her forehead deepening. She glanced up as the van pulled to a stop. They were sitting outside Dunkin' Donuts. A knock sounded at her window. She rolled it down.
"Want anything? A donut? Some coffee, in case you decide to come to class?"
"That won't be necessary," Morris told her. She hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to continue. The words from the note drifted back into the forefront of her mind. She had to do this. If she didn't, there's no way she was looking in a mirror ever again. She didn't give a hoot if terrorists got beat up, but a baby? No. "We're pretty much through here. Found everything we need. It hasn't exactly been a pleasure meeting you. Good bye, Veronica."
"Adios, muchachos." Veronica saluted them and headed into the restaurant. Morris could have sworn she saw a shadow of a smile flash across the girl's face just before disappeared inside. Morris knew she would most likely regret this, but at the moment, she didn't really care.