A/N: I've been just floored by the response to this story so far. Thank you all for your reviews, and I hope you like this chapter. Italics are still Veronica's voiceovers.

September 24, 2004

7:19pm

Jake Kane knocked softly on the door to his daughter's room. When no one answered, he eased the door open to find Veronica lying face-down on top of her bed, her feet in the air, her chin resting on her hands.

"Honey," he called to her, raising his voice to draw her attention away from the book she had buried herself in.

"Oh, hey Dad," she answered, lifting her head to regard him.

"So, what're you reading so intently?" he asked, sitting on the bed next to her.

"Oh, nothing, really. I just thought I'd read ahead a little bit for my AP Calculus class."

"I see. You know, Veronica, I think it's great that you're such a terrific student. I've always been proud of you for that. But, well, I'm a little concerned."

"Dad…."

"No, honey, look, it's Friday night, and you're at home reading ahead in your math textbook. I don't think that's healthy. You know, Duncan just left to go pick up his friend Troy for that party at Dog Beach tonight. I don't see why you didn't go with him."

"I just don't feel up to partying. Not since…."

"Sweetheart, I know. We all lost Lilly and we all miss her, but that doesn't mean we stop living our lives. Seriously, what do you think she would say to you if she saw you lying in bed on a Friday night when there's beach-party going on?"

"Nothing I could repeat to you," Veronica answered, the corners of her mouth turning upward just slightly.

"Well, look at that: I do believe you're smiling. Next thing you know, you might actually laugh again."

"Alright, alright, you win. I'll go to this party. I'll even try to have fun."

"Try hard, would you?"

7:42pm

As Veronica walked over to the bonfire, she heard Logan call to her. "Yo, V!"

"Hey Logan," she called back.

"Veronica, you made it!" squealed Logan's girlfriend Caitlin Ford.

"Hey Caitlin," Veronica responded, as the two pecked each other on the cheek. Just then, Korn's cover of "Word Up" started to play.

"So where's your brother?" Caitlin asked.

"He's not here yet?" Veronica replied.

"Haven't seen him," Logan said.

"Well, he had to pick up his friend—"

"This must be him," cut in Caitlin, nodding off to the side where Duncan and another young man were coming toward them.

"Yo, D!" Logan called out. The two of them slapped hands. "Hey, who's your date, man?"

"Oh—"

"It's Troy Vandegraff," Caitlin interrupted again. "His father's the architect who built the county museum."

"Oh, well aren't you the little social columnist?" Logan answered playfully.

"Troy," Duncan went on, "this is Logan."

"Hey man," Troy greeted.

"What's up?" Logan answered.

"I guess you already know Caitlin," Duncan continued.

"Yeah. From the marina, right?" Troy asked.

"And you remember my sister Veronica," Duncan finished.

"Oh, hey, nice to see you again," Troy said, extending his hand.

"Welcome back," Veronica offered, shaking his hand.

"So aren't you supposed to be going back east for school?" Caitlin asked.

"Change of plans. The parents decided they were going to stay in So Cal so I am enrolling here on Monday."

"Yay," Caitlin answered.

"Well, lucky us, huh?" Logan echoed.

"Say, Logan," Veronica asked, gesturing to the bruise on the side of his face, "how'd you get that?"

"This? It's nothing. Just a little accident while remodeling."

"Remodeling, huh?" Veronica asked.

"I didn't like the way the flagpole had been accessorized."

"I think it makes you look dangerous," Caitlin simpered.

Just then, a shriek came from the other side of the fire. "Ah," said Logan, "it looks like my interior decorators have come back for more."

"This is the good stuff," Weevil declared to Felix, taking a swig from the cup of beer he had grabbed. Turning to Logan, he asked "Is this imported?"

"It's a private party, man," Logan answered.

"Oh, oh, is it? I—I—I'm sorry. I must have been confused. Hey, l—let me ask you something. Have I ever asked if you if I could come play through at Torrey Pines? Have you ever run into me surfing down at Cape Crescent? Bro'? Huh? Have you ever even once come home to find us throwing the kegger in your backyard? No? Then what the hell do you think you are doing on our beach?"

"Am I supposed to apologize? Am I supposed to shake in my boots?"

"Maybe."

"Look around you, man. It ain't 15 on four tonight," Logan answered. Turning to his date, he continued, "Hey Caitlin. Baby, you've been to my house a bunch, right?"

"Yep."

"It's nice, right? It's clean, well kept…."

"Very."

"Yeah. You wanna know why? It's because Weevil's grandma keeps it that way." Turning back to Weevil, he continued, "She—she is a good little worker, your grandma, yeah, spick and span."

"Yeah," answered one of the other bikers with a laugh. "It's a tough job, you know. Grandma says you go through a box of tissue a day. Your room alone."

"At least he doesn't get off on stripping other guys naked and tying them up," Veronica cut in, before Logan could answer. "Seriously," she went on over the laughter of the other '09ers, "why don't you guys just get yourselves some feather boas and get on with it, already?"

Before the bikers could answer, they were all interrupted by the blare of a siren and a voice over a loudspeaker: "This is the Sheriff's Department. I want your IDs out and everyone remain where you are." Veronica ran along with everyone else.

8:03pm

Veronica had her ML500 on the highway and was headed home when she heard sirens and saw flashing lights behind her. "Oh, come on," she said to herself as she pulled over. She rolled the window down as the sheriff's deputy walked toward her.

"License and registration."

"Look, I was at the party, but just for a few minutes, and I didn't have any—"

"License and registration please, miss, now." After the deputy had examined Veronica's documents, he continued, "Can I have you step out of the car?"

"Why, what is it?"

"Got an impound notice on this vehicle. Bunch of parking tickets and a moving violation dated October Third."

"October Third? Oh my—officer, please, you have to understand, that's not mine—"

"That doesn't really matter miss."

"Please, listen, I used to share this car with my sister—"

"Then you can yell at your sister when you get home."

"My sister's dead. She died on October 3rd, she was murdered—"

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Her name was Lilly Kane. It made all the papers. It was on the cover of People? Look, I'm sure she would have paid the ticket, but, well, look, I promise, I'll take care of it first thing tomorrow—"

"Hang on a second." The deputy headed over to his car. When he returned a few moments later, his entire demeanor had changed. "So sorry Miss Kane; I had no idea."

"Thank you," Veronica sighed in relief.

"Just take care of the tickets whenever you get a chance."

"First thing tomorrow, I promise."

September 25, 2004

9:47am

Veronica walked into the Sheriff's Department and approached the receptionist.

"Is there something I can help you with?" asked the receptionist.

"Uh, yeah, I just came by to take care of an outstanding ticket. Um, there's the license number."

"Okay, and can I see your ID?"

Veronica handed over her driver's license. Just then, Sheriff Lamb came up behind her. "Miss Kane, what brings you down here this morning?" he asked affably.

"Oh, I'm just paying off a ticket."

"What, you mean—oh, yeah, I got the call about that yesterday night. Look, you didn't need to worry about that."

"Thanks, I appreciate that, but, you know, I'm here now anyway, so…."

Just then, the receptionist returned with Veronica's license and a piece of paper, saying "Yeah, I don't think there's any wiggle room on this one."

"Thanks. I'll mail in the payment."

"All right, Miss Kane. Sorry about the bad news," the receptionist finished, as Veronica headed out.

"Enjoy the rest of the weekend," Lamb called after her. "Say 'hi' to your dad for me."

10:18am

Veronica sat in her car outside the Sheriff's Department, gazing at the traffic ticket in her hand.

I don't know how long I've been staring at this thing. One of those automated intersection cameras caught Lilly running a red light at 6:02PM, almost two hours after her supposed time of death. I don't know if it's the photo of Lilly, singing and smiling on the final day of her life that's been haunting me or the fact that suddenly no one in my family has an alibi that holds up—Dad, Celeste, even Duncan. This just doesn't add up. What am I going to do?

To be continued….