Sorry for the delays; the website has had some minor uploading difficulties.
Still deep in "Betty and Veronica" – and since I've fairly heavily altered the original timeline on this one, it'll be almost exclusively about the changed events of the episode. I also gave Arriana a last name and named the waitress who killed Aaron Echolls – I couldn't find them anywhere in established continuity.
Thanks, again, for the reviews. I'm amazed how many I've gotten and how popular the story is.
Disclaimer: Rob Thomas is the creative genius who came up with Veronica Mars. I came up with this particular story only.
X X X X X
While Duncan and I were working on the Navigator, we noted a long list of letters demanding Polly's safe return -- and a girl I didn't recognize came in from the student animal rights group and thrust a letter into my hands as "a little something for the uninformed masses."
I asked Duncan how soon he was going to get the Letters to the Editor page laid out.
"Why?"
"Because I may have something that might make them irrelevant."
"What?" he asked suspiciously.
I shook my head. "Can't tell you now. I may have an angle on getting Polly back, and I don't want you to be caught short."
"So based on something that might happen I need to hold the editorial page and the headlines? I mean, something like that would push our stirring interview with Custodian Joe right off the front page." Duncan Kane, master of sarcasm? When did this happen?
"Just letting you know. Your call what you do with it."
Logan caught up with me as we left the school building. "Want to play hooky from work?"
Tempting though that that was, I had to tell him no. Then I explained about the upcoming "prisoner exchange."
"Sounds like fun."
"It does?"
"Sure. You know me, Machiavelli; I'm just brimming with --" he raised his fists in the air and pumped them mockingly -- "school spirit."
"Uh-huh."
"Besides, you rode to school with me today, remember?" Like an idiot, I'd actually forgotten that. "So that means you ride with me or the goat."
"Let's see: Ride with a dirty-minded beast with a bad attitude . . . or a goat."
Logan smirked. "A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste."
"You weren't doing much wasting last night . . ."
Right then Weevil walked by. "I'd tell you two to get a room, but the Sheriff probably has 'em all under surveillance." He still called Dad Sheriff. A lot of people in Neptune did. "C'mon, let's get this in gear. I got me some business to take care of." He looked at Logan. "He comin' along?"
"Yeah."
He shrugged. "Never hurts to have someone else around watchin' your back."
Wallace walked up. "Where's Jack?" I asked.
"He had something he had to take care of. But I got the keys to the van. We all set with the plan?"
"Oh, goody, the plan," Logan said with exaggerated glee. "Are we going to all go to the Coronado Bridge and do a big dramatic walk from both ends, Wallace leading the goat, some Pan High jock carrying the parrot? I can just see the headlines now: Pan High Goat leaps to death from Coronado Bridge. Goat was known to be depressed. Funeral services on Thursday. Please, no flowers. The deceased's relatives will eat them." I was almost doubled over laughing by the time he was done. Wallace was grinning too, but Weevil just looked irritable.
"Nope, just rest stop 15," he said, tapping his watch, "Time is money. Let's get this done."
Weevil got there first, Logan and I second, Wallace third. As per "the plan," Wallace parked by the far edge of the rest stop and stayed in the car, ready to get out of there on the off chance Pan High was getting tricky. He and I had a clear line of sight, just in case.
There were already a dozen or so people there; I got to overhear Weevil taking bets on the Pan-Neptune game. Amateur bookmaking. I shrugged and tuned it out. There are far worse sins in the world.
A Ford Escort pulled into the parking lot; I recognized Richie as the driver. He had two other people in the car with him -- Curtis, and someone I didn't recognize. Richie and Curtis looked a bit pissed. I didn't see Polly, but that didn't mean anything . . . yet.
Logan and I got out of the car. Weevil stopped taking bets and moved a bit closer.
The first thing Richie said was, "Glad to see you're okay."
"Yeah. My Dad got a restraining order against the guy who did it. And thanks for all the help." He pointed at Logan. "Who's that?"
"Hired muscle," Logan said with a straight face.
"And now," Curtis said, "Our boy Wilson here has something he'd like to tell you." Wilson looked like he'd rather be jumping off the nearby cliff than saying anything right at that point. "Wilson --"
Wilson muttered something so low I couldn't make it out. "A little louder, please," I said, "For the benefit of those of us without superhearing."
"I was making it all up, okay?" he said. "I never had your damn bird. I went to a pet shop and took a photo of a bird who looked like her so everyone would think I was cool."
"Congratulations," Logan said. "For two days of backslapping and attaboys you've just gotten yourself several months of dirty looks and rattails in the boy's locker room." He held up both thumbs. "Good job." No one, and I mean no one, could pull off snarky like Logan.
I looked over at Wallace and gave him a quick head shake. He left the rest stop and headed back for Neptune. Intelligently, he didn't screech his tires and pull out like he was about to be showcased on America's Wildest Police Chases. I don't think Curtis or Richie even noticed him.
Richie apologized again for wasting everyone's time. "I don't suppose we could still get Billy back?" A look from me told him otherwise. "Worth a shot," he shrugged. "Look. Believe me or not – I think I've played it straight with you so far – I don't think anyone at Pan High took Polly."
I thanked Jack, even though I didn't entirely believe him – after all, Wallace and Jack weren't exactly trumpeting over the PA system that they had a goat in the back of Jack's van – but it did get me thinking: Who else would benefit from Polly being kidnapped?
Maybe someone who didn't think any animals at all should be in captivity.
X X X X X
As Logan and I headed back to Neptune – Weevil was sticking around to do a little more business – I called Duncan.
"You got a headline for me?" he asked.
"Yeah: Veronica Mars Wastes Editor's Time. The Pan student who said he'd kidnapped Polly turned out to be lying through his teeth." Duncan made an exasperated sound. "I know. I blew this one. But I do have a favor to ask."
"Of course you do," he said. "What?"
"That SAAC student who brought in the 'free Polly' letter – what's her full name?"
A sound of rustling papers, and then: "Arriana Whitlock." Right. Then her parents would be Martin and Rena Whitlock, the mystery writers. '09ers all the way. But also liberal activists. Like parents, like daughter. It actually gave me a half-point of respect for Arriana. While her methods were dubious, unlike most of her spoiled-rich-kid brethren she was fighting for something she believed in. The only thing most 09'ers fought for was who had to bring the keg that night.
I thanked him and hung up, then called Dad to get their highly, highly unlisted number. "If you're going to use this to ask them if their refrigerator is running, I'm going to have to rat you out," Dad said.
"Naah; just seeing if they wanna buy shares in some Florida swampland."
"As long as I get my cut, sweetie."
When I hung up this time, Logan looked at me and said, "Aren't you just the busy little beaver?"
I grinned and said, "You're getting a rare look at how I do my business."
"Let me guess: You'd tell me more, but then you'd have to kill me?"
"Oh . . . I have better things to do with you than killing you."
"I'm sure you do. But not while I'm driving, snuggly-wugglykins. We're kind of on the edge of a cliff here."
"Okay, I'll wait till you stop the car."
"Before we go too far down that path . . . now it's your turn."
"My turn?"
"I had to endure interrogation from your father yesterday . . ."
I got it. "Lynn wants to talk to me about our relationship."
"Yup. The difference is, she likes you and she's always liked you. And she doesn't carry large weapons around."
"How's she doing?"
Logan sounded genuinely proud and happy. "Spectacularly. The reporters have drifted off and she's finally figuring out who the hell she is again when she doesn't have to be Aaron Echolls' chew-toy. She might even try to get back into acting herself."
"Sounds like Viola Kerrigan your father did a lot of people favors."
"Yeah. I'm thinking of getting her a Christmas card." Viola Kerrigan – the waitress who'd stabbed Aaron -- had pleaded guilty to one count of manslaughter 1 and was currently doing 12-24 years somewhere upstate.
"I don't know if Hallmark makes those."
"On the outside: Thanks for stabbing my father. On the inside: Now you understand why Santa's suit is so red."
"See, I don't see that selling well."
"Can't imagine why."
"And on that note –" I shushed him while I called Arriana Whitlock.
"What do you want?" she said after I introduced myself. "I know you don't want to join SAAC. You're just as complicit in the murder of cows and fish as everyone else is in this unenlightened town." I respected her passion, but she made me look like Miss Manners.
Well, that kind of limited my options to the truth. "I want to know if you or anyone in your group took Polly."
"Why would I tell you?"
"The goodness of your heart?" Worth a shot.
"The goodness of my heart tells me Polly wants to be free," Arriana snapped.
"Fine. Make that case. I'd love to hear it." No, I wouldn't, but she sounded like she was about five seconds away from hanging up and I preferred to keep her talking. "I'll interview you for the Navigator and you can make as strong a case for animal rights as you want." As many as she could in the space of 500 or so words. I'm sure I could convince Duncan. It would stir up controversy, if nothing else."
"You'll do that?" she asked, still suspicious.
"I'll do that," I promised. "If and only if you tell me the truth about whether you have Polly."
A silence from the other end of the phone, then: "Deal. But I get to talk about whatever I want."
"Whatever you want." Any cusswords would be edited out anyway.
"I didn't take Polly. No one in SAAC would have. We'd have no way of getting her to her homeland and freeing her and if we let her out around here she'd be lost and homeless and probably die."
I believed her. So. Pan High didn't have Polly. SAAC didn't have Polly.
Who the hell did?