We are entering the timeframe of Hot Dogs here. As you can imagine, it will be severely altered.

I didn't see Mandy's last name anywhere in the episode, so I've assigned her one. If she does have a last name, please someone tell me and I will restore it.

Disclaimer: Rob Thomas created Veronica Mars. I created this fanfiction.

X X X X X

Unfortunately, I couldn't collect my thoughts quickly enough to let Lamb know this; he simply smirked and left the room.

"Well," Logan said. "That's hardly -- Veronica? What is it?"

I finally found my voice. "It wasn't Dick."

Logan looked at me like I'd been speaking Swahili. "What are you talking about?"

I laughed a bit bitterly. "Trust me, I haven't gone crazy and I haven't suddenly developed a liking for Little Dick. But remember when I was shot?"

"I don't think I'll ever forget it," he said.

"Well, when I was whispering to you I was looking right at Dick Casablancas. He wasn't carrying a gun and he was at the wrong angle even if he had been."

Logan said, "You're serious."

"What, you're saying it surprises you that the Neptune Sheriff's Department arrested the wrong person?"

"Of course not," he said. "It's just that he hates your guts, he threatened you publicly, and he knows how to use a rifle." I looked questioningly at him. "Big Dick hunts. He and Dad went on some trips together and dragged their children along. Dick loved it." After a second, "Dad, of course, just liked being able to hurt things legally. Not like 'legal' stopped him, apparently."

"I know," I said. "Motive, means, opportunity. But he didn't do it."

"Then who did?"

And that was the $64,000 question.

X X X X X

Logan saw me off at the hospital parking lot with a quick kiss, after which he went back to school. I made him promise not to spread my belief in Dick's innocence around until I had time to talk about it with my Dad.

"You sure you understood all the doctor's instructions, Veronica?"

I rolled my eyes. "Take the pain medication regularly; don't stress the areas of the wound; don't lift anything heavier than a paperback book with my left arm until she gives the go-ahead; don't sleep on my left side; don't drive. Anything else."

"Yeah," he said. "Don't get shot again. Damn, Veronica, you have no idea how scared I was."

I said mildly, "Well, it's not like I planned on it."

"True. And anyway, they have the Casablancas kid in jail, so there's no worries there."

Taking a deep breath, I said, "Actually, Dad --"

"Actually, Dad, what?"

"Dick Casablancas didn't shoot me. In fact, of everyone who was there I know four people who didn't: You, Logan, Lynn, and Dick Casablancas."

"Oh, Veronica." And then I explained it to Dad. After I was done, he said, "Are you sure about this?"

"Of course I am. I wouldn't stick up for that jackass without a really good reason. I'm guessing Lamb did his usual half-assed job: Found out that Dick had threatened me in school on Tuesday, decided he'd taken the shot, and tried to find evidence backing the theory he'd already come up with."

Dad shook his head. "And, of course, with Lynn Echolls leaning on the Balboa County DA it's not like Big Dick's money will do anything more than guarantee his son a fair trial." Laughing humorlessly, he said, "You realize what you're going to have to do."

"Tell Lamb?" I said. When Dad said yes, I said, "I'd like to try a different angle first."

"You're not investigating this yourself." It wasn't a question.

"Of course not," I lied. "But our beloved Sheriff isn't likely to be in a mood to listen to anything we say after the public embarassment you handed him on Tuesday."

"True. So what's your idea?"

"Who's defending little Dick?"

"Same person who was defending him on the other charges," Dad said. "Guy named Larry Holtz."

I'd never heard of Holtz before, which made it a safe bet he wasn't a Neptune lawyer. "Any chance maybe Cliff could get me in to see him?"

Dad's eyebrows raised. "Not bad, Veronica. The sight of a victim known to loathe the defendant voluntarily showing up on his witness list should be enough to give Lamb and the Balboa County DA second thoughts."

"That's my idea," I said. "Let this Holtz guy hash it out with Neptune officialdom while I'm at home relaxing on the sofa." After a second, "If I can change the subject, did the tape I found get Lynn Echolls to give you money?"

"No," he said, "And I didn't expect it to. I'm also still not entirely convinced of your story of how you found that thing."

"You can ask Cliff," I said.

"Cliff?"

"He's been hiding the drawer for me for a couple of months."

"Really."

"So why didn't Lynn give you the money?" I asked

Dad sighed. "Because the Neptune Sheriff's Office has yet to release a statement saying they're convinced Aaron Echolls did it." After a pause, "Public opinion's running about 60-40 in her favor, though. A couple of the other women Aaron had affairs with also came out and publicly spoke about his temper and his need to keep their affairs quiet, but Trina Echolls and a couple of his co-stars have spoken out on Aaron's behalf."

"I'm guessing Lynn's kicked Trina to the curb, then."

"Not to my knowledge." That startled me. Either Lynn loved her stepdaughter more than I thought or she was fanatically devoted to the concept of free speech.

And we were home. I unbuckled myself and got out of the car. A couple of times I had to fight urges to lean on my left arm.

Dad raced around the car to help me, but I waved him off. "I'm not helpless, Dad."

"Yes, but you're not full-strength, either. You're off active duty at the moment. Any Neptune wives think their husbands are cheating on them down at the Camelot, I'll be taking the pictures." At my hurt look, he said, "This is for your own safety, sweetie."

"I know," I said. "Being on the DL kind of stinks."

"Well, you can still research and answer the phones."

"Oh, goody. The fun parts."

Dad made sure I was settled in -- I'd head back to school on Monday -- and left to get to work. I promised to call him if I felt so much as an errant twinge.

Then I picked up my Buffy season 6 DVD. When I'd broken off, I'd entered what was usually considered to be the "dead period" of the season -- the place between "Doublemeat Palace" and "Hell's Bells." Not my favorite section either, but it had its moments. I flipped on "Older and Far Away" and settled in for a period of Buffy-watching.

Somewhere along the way, I fell asleep. Dr. London had told me I'd develop a resistance to that particular side effect of my medication, but it hadn't happened yet. In my muddled half-asleep thinking, I somehow conflated the shooting and its immediate aftermath with Buffy season 6. It didn't hurt that Trina bore something of a resemblance to Alyson Hannigan, either, but seeing Logan as Spike and Lynn as Dawn was something else entirely. When I woke up I was shouting the phrase "She came back wrong!" -- a key phrase from that season of Buffy -- and was utterly convinced that it had something to do with the attempt on my life.

I had no idea how, or what. My subconscious wasn't talking to me now that I was fully awake again. It meant something; I just needed to figure out what . . .

X X X X X

Everyone came by after school. Wallace brought me a general update on my schoolwork, Meg brought me cookies, Mac brought me the news from the Neptune High Forums, Duncan brought me an apology (for his behavior on Tuesday), and Logan tried to bring me love, affection, and sex but was thwarted in the latter by Wallace, Meg, Mac, and Duncan.

Involuntarily, of course, but I'm sure much to my father's relief.

The schoolwork was more a "what's coming" than anything else, as they weren't about to assign me homework when I was lying in the hospital; the cookies were delicious (what can't Meg do well?); Dick's guilt was pretty much universally assumed; and the apology was immediately and cheerfully accepted.

The love, affection, and sex would have to wait. Besides, I wasn't so sure how up I would be for the latter at this point.

I took the weekend easy as well, on Dr. London's orders. I did get to walk out to the beach while Dad walked Backup, but that was about it. Dad called Cliff and got him to arrange a meeting with Larry Holtz sometime the following week with "someone who could give them information to clear Dick Casablancas of the attempted murder of Veronica Mars." Mr. Holtz agreed to meet us at Cliff's office. For obvious reasons we didn't want to tell Mr. Holtz who we were ahead of time.

Logan dropped by but the amount of time we spent alone was strictly limited. A couple of kisses here and there was about all we managed to sneak in.

Ah well. At least, over the weekend, I stopped falling asleep in my oatmeal.

On Monday morning, Logan came to pick me up; Dad would be picking me up after school and taking me to meet Larry Holtz.

When we got to school, Logan and I did manage to steal five minutes for serious making out -- though we actually had to move to the back seat to do so, becasue otherwise he would have been leaning heavily against my left shoulder.

"I've been looking forward to that for a while," he said.

"Me too," I said. "That may have to be it until the stiches come out, unless you want to explain how it is every time I see you my shoulder ends up ripped open."

"I'll be creative," he said.

Oooh. I like creative.

I think I had more people come up to me that day and ask me how I was doing than I did after it came out that I'd been raped. No one actually clapped me on the shoulder, though Caz Truman seemed to think it would be funny to pretend to do so.

At least, he did until Logan slammed him up against a locker. "Not even as a joke, Caz," he said.

Caz gave him a dirty look and stalked off.

Dick Casablancas, even though he'd paid his bail, was nowhere to be seen. His father was having him tutored privately until his trials were over. Smart man, Richard Casablancas Sr. At this point Dick was as popular as anthrax.

Down the hall, I noticed Mandy Klein putting up lost dog notices. Someone had, hilariously, put one on her back. Logan and I walked up and Logan pulled it off.

"Sorry," I said. "But this was on your . . ."

"Thanks." After a second, "Veronica Mars, right?"

"Sometimes."

"I realize you were shot and all and you may yell at me for asking you this, but could you help me find my dog? I--I'll hire you."

From most people in the school, this would have been insensitive. From Mandy, it came off like someone who desperately missed her dog. I almost said no, but it would have been like kicking a kitten.

Still, the amount of heavy legwork I could do at the moment was limited.

Then I had a thought. I pointed to my shoulder and said, "I can't right now."

"Oh," she said sadly. "Thanks anyways."

I shook my head. "You didn't let me finish, Mandy. Come see me at lunch."

As we walked off, Logan asked, "What are you thinking?"

"You'll see," I said.

When Mandy came by my table at lunch, I was sitting with Wallace, Meg, and Logan. "Mandy!" I said. "I would like to introduce you to my friend Wallace -- you've already met Logan --" She smiled at both of them -- "And this is my assistant, Meg. Meg will be happy to look for your dog."

"What?" Meg said.

"Oh, thank you!" Mandy said. "When can we meet?"

"Um -- we can talk for a few minutes right now -- just give me a second," she said. Mandy ran off. Turning towards me, Meg said, "Why did you do that?"

"You wanted to see how good you were after my lessons," I said. "Now's your chance. I'm not throwing you out there without help; call me, ask me questions, whatever. But it's your case."

"Alright," Meg said. "You think I can do this?"

"Only one way to find out."

Thinking aloud, she said, "So how do I explain this to my parents . . . I know. I'm looking into it as a news story. I'll say I'm doing a special investigative report --"

"Good start," I said. "Now go see what you can get from Mandy."

Logan and Wallace looked at me. "Makes sense, really," I said.

"It does," Logan said. "So how didn't I see it coming?"

Wallace laughed and said, "This is Veronica Mars here. You never see her coming."

Not necessarily true, but not a bad reputation to have, either.

Nest thing to do: Get the charge of attempted murder removed against Dick Casablancas.

Then find out who the hell actually had shot at me.

So far the only thing I had to go on was a half-remembered Buffy-addled thought: "She came back wrong."

Hell, I've done harder.