DISCLAIMER: I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars. This story is written as a tribute only. No celebrity endorsement is implied by product placements. All real persons' names are used in the sense of "wouldn't it be cool if this person had this gig?" The institution discussed in this fic is not a real institution. All opinions regarding real-life organizations expressed in this fic are the opinions of the characters only. You may or may not agree with the conclusions of the characters, and no harm or insult is intended to these real-life organizations, or to any participant, past, present, or future, in the meetings of these organizations. Again, this fic is not intended for those under the age of 17.
A/N: Beta-ed by Poniesforall, who is also my assistant casting director, and Kazy. All mistakes that remain are my responsibility.
Previously on Veronica Mars: The Year of Living Dangerously Part Two:
vanessagalore•livejournal•com/44079•html
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VERONICA MARS
10:00PM SHO ch: 340 60min 2009 TV-MA
Illegitimi Non Carborundum
Evidence that the paparazzi are still
stalking Logan surfaces; Wallace
asks Weevil for help.
Veronica: Kristen Bell. Logan: Jason Dohring.
Wallace: Percy Daggs III. Eli: Francis Capra.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR: "ILLEGITIMI NON CARBORUNDUM"
Mon. 3/2/09: Venice Beach, CA
Now that Logan has decided to return to Neptune with Veronica, he considers whether he should take his own car and follow her. Veronica vetoes the idea, saying that his BMW being moved would alert the paparazzi that he's back in town.
Logan thinks a moment, then says, "What do you think about another headline story of Logan Echolls being a bad boy in Europe?"
"What do you mean?" she asks.
"Well, that guy Jason Dohring is still being paid to be me for another week or so. I could tell Harvey Greenblatt that I need Dohring to do something newsworthy again. A bar fight, partying with Amy Winehouse, or maybe hitting on Heidi Montag," Logan suggests. "Just to keep the paparazzi thinking that I'm still out of the country."
"In case someone recognizes you, they'll think it can't be, since they heard that Logan Echolls was acting out again in...where is it that you'll be exactly?"
He replies, "I think I'm in Paris for the ready-to-wear fashion week."
"I'm a little scared that you know that," Veronica comments wryly.
"My mother used to go every year, first week in March. I used to dread it; if my dad wasn't on location..." Logan's voice drifts off. He shakes himself and refuses to look at Veronica's sympathetic face. "Listen, if we want to keep the ruse going, that I'm out of town, let's use the back entrance to the beach house, just to be sure."
"Right. When Dick and I were here, we parked at the public beach and walked in," Veronica says, and Logan nods his agreement at the plan. She goes around the block and heads for the public beach down the road. They park the car, and Veronica grabs her baseball cap from the back seat to cover her blonde hair. Both don sunglasses. Logan decides to leave his cane in the car, and Veronica says, "Don't worry, you can lean on me if you need to."
"I just want to grab a few things and check to see that everything's okay," Logan explains. They walk down the beach, with Logan's arm draped across Veronica's shoulders. "How did you and Dick get past the paparazzi anyway?"
Veronica explains, "I got Ming from Woo Too to make a distraction at the front door so Dick and I could get in the back way and snoop around the house. Nice job, clearing your computer cache."
"I've been paying attention all these years to your stories, you know," he comments. "I've picked up a few of your tricks, Ms. Snoop."
As they approach the house, Veronica scouts for paparazzi. "I think we're cool. No one's watching the house. You did a great job fooling everyone into believing you were in Madeira," she says, sarcastically.
"Thanks," he replies, not missing a beat. "Figured if I could fool you..." he shrugs.
Once in the house, Logan looks around quickly, then heads for the bedroom. He packs a small duffel bag with clothes and other items. He returns to the living room and is looking for a book on the shelf when Veronica silently waves at him, holding one finger to her lips.
"What?" he mouths.
She walks over to him and shows him an electronic device. She cups her hands and presses her lips to his ears. "I brought Dad's new signal detector today. You know, like the one he..." Veronica pulls away, and Logan nods, that he understands. She points to the readout, her meaning clear.
Logan mouths, "Paparazzi," and Veronica nods her agreement. She walks around the room, scanning for likely locations for a bug to be hidden. When she points the detector at the landline phone, the LED display shows additional lights, and she nods grimly. She looks around for a few minutes and finds additional listening devices in the bedroom and the living room area. She leaves all the devices where they are, then Veronica catches Logan's eye and points her thumb at the back entrance with a questioning look. He holds up a finger to indicate she should wait one minute, and he turns back to the shelf, looking for a particular book. He finds it, tucks it in his bag, and they leave the house quietly.
Once outside, she says, "Someone's gone to quite a bit of trouble to spy on you. The bug in the phone is an expensive model. More high tech than my dad and I usually use; more like the one we're going to use in Vermont. Small, and high-powered...probably voice-activated."
"Do you think they've been there since I've been out of town?"
"I would imagine," she replies. "I guess a recording of you would fetch a high price on the open market."
"Those were just audio devices, right?" Logan says, thinking aloud. "Wouldn't pictures be more valuable?" He catches her expression of distaste and continues, "I'm just saying."
"I suppose. What book were you looking for?" she asks.
Logan digs in the duffel bag and shows her the book. "'The Lucifer Effect'," he replies. "It's an account of the Stanford Prison Experiment by the guy who ran the experiment. I thought you should read it. We read it in Kinny's class."
"Wait, you read a book?" she teases.
"Yeah, that and 'Emma'," he replies. He points to the text under the title on the cover. "'Understanding How Good People Turn Evil', how could I resist?" Logan pauses, then continues, "It actually helped me. It deals with the psychological barriers that prevent good people from stopping the evil people in this world." He looks at her, and she realizes that he's talking about his mother, why Lynn never was able to stop Aaron from hurting him. He thumbs through the book until he finds a page, and he hands it to her, gesturing at a particular paragraph.
'If you were placed in a strange and novel cruel Situation within a powerful System, you would probably not emerge as the same person who entered that crucible of human nature. You would not recognize your familiar image if it were held next to the mirror image of what you had become. We all want situational forces of the kinds operating in this Stanford Prison Experiment. For some, that belief is valid. They are usually the minority, the rare birds, those who I will designate as heroic later in our journey. For many, that belief of personal power to resist powerful situational and systemic forces is little more than a reassuring illusion of invulnerability. Paradoxically, maintaining that illusion only serves to make one more vulnerable to manipulation by failing to be sufficiently vigilant against attempts of undesired influence subtly practiced on them.'(5)
Veronica unconsciously shivers, thinking about the robot-like reactions of Anthea Gittleman and the stories that Kavner told them the day before. "Are you trying to scare me?" she finally says, handing the book back to him.
Intensely, he says, "Yes, I am. It's still not too late to change your mind. If you decide to go through with it, I'll have your back, Veronica. But...I still wish you wouldn't go at all. A body-cavity strip search, Veronica? God. You can't think that I'm eager for you to have to go through that. And handcuffs and restraints..." he shakes his head. He puts the book back in his bag and turns to her. "I'll give you anything you want, if you just decide not to go. A house, a diamond necklace. A Ferrari. Whatever it takes."
"A bribe?" she replies.
He pulls her into his arms. "You're not going to change your mind, are you?"
She leans against him and shakes her head 'no'. "Logan...I can't give up. I promise you, I will stick to Dad's plan. I'll be safe as long as you're there to watch over me." Veronica pulls away, and they walk a short distance, finally reaching her Saturn.
When they get to the car, Veronica rummages in her handbag for her keys. As she triggers the door locks, she frowns, noticing something in her purse.
"What?" Logan says, from the opposite side of the car.
She holds up the bug detector, and he sees that the LED lights are lit again. She pulls out a small makeup mirror from her purse and crouches on the ground, looking underneath the vehicle. Finally, she finds something hidden in the chassis behind the rear wheel well. She carefully removes it and shows it to Logan.
Logan looks at her questioningly, and she responds, "It's a GPS tracking device. I've been checking the car all the time. Right after you disappeared, I found a tracker on my car. The paparazzi, maybe even Carrie. She hasn't stopped calling, trying to get an interview with me. Most of her messages are trying to provoke me into giving her a reaction. The girl's persistent," Veronica comments. "But...I didn't think to check this morning...I was too upset," she admits.
"Give it here, I'll crush it," he says angrily. Dammit, I didn't know Carrie was still bothering her.
Veronica shakes her head. She looks around and sees the taxi stand not far away. She hands the tracking device to him. "Logan, I'm going to go talk to the cab driver. While he's distracted, you put the tracker on the taxi. It's magnetic, just stick under the car as far as you can."
He laughs. "So the paps are following a taxi all day long?"
"That's the idea," she says. Veronica applies some lipstick and runs a comb through her hair. She opens the top button on her shirt and checks her appearance in the mirror; apparently satisfied with the results, she sashays over to the taxi stand.
"Hi..." Veronica says, winningly. "I'm only in town for a few days. I bet you know where all the hot clubs are. My girlfriends and I are anxious to see some celebrities."
As the cab driver turns to her and begins gesticulating, Logan approaches the taxi and stealthily places the tracking device. He watches in amusement as Veronica touches her index finger to her lips, apparently confused by the directions the taxi driver is giving her. As Logan walks away, he sees over his shoulder that she is tracing a route on a map, with a dazzling smile. She tosses her hair back over her shoulder at one point, and Logan almost laughs aloud.
He gets in the car, and a few minutes later she joins him. Logan remarks, "You didn't have to flip your hair, that's overkill."
"It always works on you," she replies. She double-checks the signal detector; satisfied that there are no other transmitting devices on the car, she starts the Saturn and heads for UCLA.
Mon. 3/2/09: Hearst College Food Court, CA
Wallace looks around the court, scanning faces. Finally he spots Weevil at the entrance, and he motions him to come over.
Weevil turns a chair and sits backward with his arms on the back of the chair. "You rang?"
"Yeah. I was wondering if–" Wallace starts.
"Listen, I'm not sure if Veronica owes me or if I owe her at this point, but I'm pretty sure I don't owe you anything," Weevil interrupts. "I got a busy day today. The air conditioning isn't going to repair itself, and that bitch at the bursar's office has been all over my ass since I got in today."
"Just hear me out. I think you owe me that much after taping me to a flagpole," Wallace says sarcastically.
"You know, you gotta let it go. A little duct tape doesn't mean we're going steady," Weevil retorts. "What are you looking for, an apology after all this time?" Placing one finger on the side of his face, he adds in a drawling, simpering voice, "Tell you what...truth is, sometimes I miss you so bad I can hardly stand it..."
Wallace stares at him.
Finally, Weevil sighs and wipes his brow with his hand. "Sorry, man, it's been a shitty day. These mother-fuckin' eggheads think I'm their personal slave."
Abruptly, Wallace says, "Keith said you might have a reason to be mad at the Fitzpatricks...since they're going to skate on the racketeering charges. I bet your uncle is looking forward to doing business with them again. Protection's a bitch, right?"
Weevil's eyes narrow. "What did you have in mind?"
"My girlfriend's brother, Shawn, went to Hearst. He disappeared a year ago, and his body turned up with a bullet hole up near the Canadian border. I've found out that he was dealing drugs, and I think he was working for the Fitzpatricks. Ciaran Fitzpatrick, to be specific," Wallace explains. "I'd like to find out for sure, see if I can get some hard evidence to turn over to the cops. But, you know, it's not like I can walk into the River Stix and start asking questions."
Weevil laughs without amusement. "Yeah, you wouldn't last a minute in there. Your girlfriend's brother...he was a black guy?"
Wallace nods.
Weevil muses, "It's not like the Fitzpatricks to go outside of the family like that...especially a ni– uh, an African-American," he amends.
"He was dealing something called meth-x, combination of meth and ecstasy. Maybe he had a connection that the Fitzpatricks needed."
"So why would he need the Fitzpatricks?" Weevil asks.
"You tell me. I'm a clean-livin' mama's boy; I don't know anything about slinging dope."
Weevil shrugs. "I suppose they could have supplied the financing, helped with distribution, who knows. Those micks aren't geniuses; I wouldn't look for a complicated scheme. But if Shawn crossed the Fitzpatricks, I'm not surprised he turned up dead. When they're tweaking, they would cap you just for shooting off your mouth."
"Logan told me you thought Ciaran and Padraig killed Gustavio Toombs," Wallace says.
"Yeah, that's true, they took out the Reaper."
"Who was in charge of the PCHers before the Reaper? Would they know anything?" Wallace asks.
"My cousin...Emilio Vargas. He's in Chino, serving a third strike sentence. He had my back while I was there," Weevil explains. "Ciaran was there too for a while, serving a couple months on a parole violation. That fucking culero got up in my face a few times, but Emilio and his boys made sure I got out of there intact, if you know what I mean." He raises his eyebrows.
"Emilio Vargas," Wallace repeats, writing a note. "What if we talked to him? Maybe he's heard something, or could ask around..."
"And what do I get out of this, other than the Fitzpatricks gunning for me?" Weevil asks.
"Well, if I get proof that Ciaran killed Shawn and can get him sent to prison..." Wallace shrugs expressively. "That's one less Fitzpatrick to deal with. And you'd be getting revenge for the Reaper."
"I'm going to need more than that to mess with those micks. How about a little inside information on Hearst's chances in the playoffs? Baby needs a new pair of shoes," Weevil entreats, rubbing his thumb against his fingers.
"Yeah, forget it, man. I'll figure something else out," Wallace stands up to leave.
"Yo, homie, sit your ass down. You've got traction with Vee; if I do this, she owes me, all right?" Weevil says quickly.
"Yeah, I think I can arrange that." Wallace holds out his fist, and Weevil stares at it a minute before bumping it with his own fist.
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VERONICA MARS
10:00PM SHO ch: 340 60min 2009 TV-MA
Tattoo You
Veronica and Logan meet with Mike Fields;
more preparation for Briar Hill.
Veronica: Kristen Bell. Logan: Jason Dohring.
Keith: Enrico Colantoni. Mike: Michael Trucco.
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CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE: "TATTOO YOU"
Mon. 3/2/09: FBI Headquarters, Los Angeles, CA
When Veronica and Logan knock at Mike Fields' door, they hear, "Come in," and Veronica pushes open the door. Mike looks up and says sarcastically, "Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. I see you found Echolls. Nice job with the Madeira video."
Logan shrugs in reply.
Veronica says quickly, "Listen, Mike...I have some information about the Saturday Night Slasher."
Mike immediately forgets about Logan and focuses his attention on Veronica. She hands him a printout and explains her theory about the murder dates being connected by the times of the full moon. Then she shows Mike the rap sheets of all the other victims and says in conclusion, "Look, you and I both know, it's very unlikely that a prostitute would never have been arrested. Hannah didn't have a record at all. In fact, no one seems to know where she was after she ran away from the Briar Hill Academy."
Mike leans back in his chair. "A copycat murder?"
Veronica nods. "But, Mike, that means...someone had inside information. Someone knew about the design the Slasher has been carving on his victims."
Leaning forward suddenly, Mike replies, "You mean, someone in the FBI? Or the police?"
"Or someone who could hack into the FBI files," she answers. "Mike, are you familiar with the Cynthia MacKenzie case?"
"You mean, the girl who was targeted by the Russian mafia for discovering their identity theft scheme? Yeah, I've heard a little about it. She's in Witness Protection, right?"
"That's Mac. Cynthia MacKenzie is Mac...my friend, remember? And Mike, she sent me a coded message through a mutual friend. I think she's stumbled onto something in the Slasher case. She knows the theory I've been working on. Can you get in touch with her?"
"Veronica, I don't have any idea where she is. They don't make that information widely known."
"She's at the San Diego Regional Computer Forensics Lab. At least, I'm pretty sure that's where she is," Veronica says.
"Veronica, I don't know what you're suggesting here, but I think you should forget it," Mike answers. He stands up and adds, "Thanks for coming in, Veronica."
Logan chimes in, "Veronica just gave you a big lead in the Slasher case. Kind of a career-making lead, if you ask me. I think the least you could do is listen to her."
Mike carefully keeps his face blank, but Logan realizes that this guy absolutely hates him. Logan reminds himself not to screw around with the law anytime soon.
Veronica says, "Can you make contact with Mac and see what she wants to tell me? There's got to be some excuse why you need to go to the San Diego Computer Lab."
Mike says, "You're going to leave the Slasher case alone, right?"
Logan raises his eyebrows at Veronica; she swallows, then says abruptly, "My dad and I were hired to investigate Briar Hill Academy by Hannah Griffith's mother. It's a tough-love boarding school."
Mike says sharply, "Like those Outward Bound programs, where those kids were killed?"
"Yes. I'm going undercover as a student; Ms. Denenberg wants to shut down the school. I think there's a possibility Hannah was killed to cover up something that was going on at Briar Hill. Maybe she threatened to go public with something that happened to her–something that she had hard proof of. There's going to be two other people undercover with me," she glances at Logan, "protecting me, but also if they can, they're going to try to see if there's any evidence that points to someone at the school as Hannah's murderer."
"Such as?" Mike queries.
"Records of someone important at the school while Hannah was there; maybe a payoff that she witnessed; or maybe another girl was murdered, and it was covered up," Veronica muses. "I don't know."
"Tell me more about the undercover operation, Veronica," Mike asks.
Veronica goes into the specifics of their plans. When she mentions, hesitantly, that Logan will be undercover as well, Mike interrupts, "An amateur? Veronica, where's your head?"
"He knows me. He'll know if I'm in trouble and can't find a way to signal my dad."
Mike remains silent, staring at the two of them. Finally, he says, "What about the authorities there in Vermont?"
"That's the problem. What if it's a local police officer or a district attorney who's taking bribes to look the other way at what's going on? We would just be alerting them that someone's investigating at the school, and they'd make sure that the school is squeaky clean while we're there. They've always gotten high ratings from the state, so someone is tipping them off about surprise inspections. Dad's found evidence that a subsidiary corporation, BHA, has been making contributions to political campaigns. If we inadvertently bring the wrong person into the loop, we might never find out who had a reason to murder Hannah. I think we have to do it this way," Veronica concludes.
"I know an agent in the Boston field office. There's no way he'd be involved in any kind of coverup, and he was a cop in Boston before he joined the bureau. He's had a lot of experience with teenaged runaways and prostitution. You need to have a contact in law enforcement."
Veronica looks at Logan, and he shakes his head that he doesn't know what she should do. Veronica muses, "Could you see if he has an alibi for the time of Hannah's death?"
"He's been overseas until recently, working with the counterterrorism task force." Mike picks up the phone and asks his assistant to run a check on the whereabouts of Thomas Lynley in January. He drums his fingers impatiently on his desk while he waits, then hangs up the phone and addresses Veronica and Logan. "Like I said, he was out of the country until two weeks ago. This is someone I'd trust with my life, Veronica."
Logan thinks, It's not your life we're worrying about.
Mike continues, "You need to have a law enforcement official in the loop on this...someone you can call on for help if you need it. And he can help you with information on which politicians or cops are known to be dirty in that area."
Veronica looks at Logan again, and he nods. She turns back to Mike and says, "Okay. My dad's going early to have me 'committed' to the school; maybe my dad can brief your friend...But Mike, are you going to help me? Will you try to make contact with Mac and then let me or my dad know what she's found out?"
Mike stares at her, obviously worried.
"Mike, Mac is smart. She'll be a tremendous asset to this investigation. I know she's found out something," Veronica pleads.
Finally Mike nods. "I'll find a reason to go to the RFCL this week, and I'll talk to her. When do you leave for the undercover op?"
"Friday," Veronica replies.
"Okay, I'll be in touch. It might take a day or two," Mike adds.
"It's okay, that's great." Veronica stands up. She walks toward the door, then stops. She turns back toward Mike and asks quietly, "Mike, did you know that...they kicked me out of the FBI internship program?"
Mike flushes. "I was hoping...I was hoping that they'd changed their mind."
"When did you know? Before the last time I saw you, with my friend Eli?" she asks, hotly.
"Back in December. They demoted me for using Bureau resources to help you in your investigation. They said that your file was under review," he replies.
"Why didn't you tell me? I could have–"
"No, you couldn't have. Anything you tried to do would have made it worse," he answers. "I'm sorry, Veronica. I know you had your heart set on being in the FBI. You can apply again next year."
Logan starts to speak, but Veronica nudges him. "Don't," she whispers under her breath. Aloud, she says to Mike, "Thanks for meeting with us today." She turns to leave with Logan close behind.
Mike watches Logan intently as he follows Veronica out of the office. At the last moment, Mike strides over and touches Logan on the shoulder. "Be careful. Don't let her get hurt," Mike says in a low voice.
"I won't let her get hurt," Logan replies.
Mike nods and watches them leave.
Mon.-Tues. 3/2-3/09: Neptune, CA
The next two days are a whirlwind of activity. Keith is enthusiastic about Logan's increased participation; Kavner agrees to put in a good word for Logan. They decide that Logan will fly out to Boston with Keith on Wednesday and start working at the school the next day. Later in the day, they hear from Kavner that the timing was perfect; another employee quit that morning, and he was able to suggest Logan as a replacement without raising any suspicions.
Veronica's alias, Connie Morris, has been selected to have similar phonemes to both her nickname, Ronnie, and her last name so that she will react when she is called by her new name. After a long discussion, they settle on 'Roger Oakley' for Logan's pseudonym, having discarded the previous suggestions of 'Joe Eckley' and 'Lowell Eckart' as being too close to 'Logan Echolls' for comfort. Keith sets up an identity for 'Roger Oakley' that will withstand a fair amount of scrutiny.
Since Briar Hill doesn't allow its employees to carry a normal cell phone–for fear that a student might be able to steal it to call out–Keith sets up a mobile phone for Logan similar to the one Kavner already has. The ultra-compact cell phone is designed to be hidden in a pack of cigarettes. Keith notes that Kavner and Logan can also use the excuse of a cigarette break to make contact with each other should the need arise. Keith also instructs Logan in the basics of installing surveillance devices. Veronica persuades her dad to give Logan a set of master keys for file cabinets, in case the opportunity arises for Logan to snoop in the files at the school. Keith exchanges a knowing glance with Logan; they silently agree to humor her, and Logan accepts the key ring along with a crash course in the various models of file cabinets.
On Tuesday morning, Veronica, accompanied by Logan, goes to a salon. Logan's dark hair color is touched up while Veronica undergoes a drastic makeover. Her hair is colored a vibrant red and permed into ringlets. When Veronica sees the results, she sighs aloud, but Logan is pleased. He knows that her safety depends on her keeping her identity concealed, and he thinks that even he might not have recognized her with this new look.
They stop at a tattoo artist that Mars Investigations has used before. Veronica gets a barbed-wire tattoo around her upper arm and the kanji symbol for love on her neck. Both are temporary tattoos done with silver nitrate that will fade after a few weeks.
Veronica looks at herself in the mirror at the results; Logan, standing behind her, massages her shoulders and kisses the top of her head. She rolls up her sleeve a little to display her tattooed arm more prominently and flexes her bicep. "Pretty scary," she muses. 'Check you out, Veronica Mars. You're like a rocker chick now.' Lilly's voice pops into her head unbidden, and Veronica shivers. Logan looks at her quizzically, and Veronica responds, "Lilly would have loved this." She traces the tattoo on her neck thoughtfully.
"Sometimes I still hear her voice," Logan replies. "I mean, I was so furious with her the day she died...I should have..."
Veronica turns around and looks at him. "What?" She remembers overhearing Logan talking to Miss James. 'You know Veronica was my friend too...and if she hadn't ratted me out...then Lilly and I would have stayed together. And Lilly wouldn't have been alone that day. I would have been there. So, yeah, I blame Veronica.' She's never told Logan what she heard that day–that she knows exactly why he hated her so much that year.
He looks down, avoiding her eyes. "Just, you know...I still sometimes think I should have known what was going on and could have stopped it. Stopped him. And instead I was...breaking up with her." He thinks about his confrontation with Veronica on the beach, mocking her sarcastically, 'Logan, I'm gonna go home and put my head in the oven because I can't go on living knowing what a heartless BITCH I am.' He remembers flinging the words in her face, his heart broken, his insides gutted by her doubts, but most of all, he remembers his despair: because, in the final tally, he knew he really was responsible for Lilly's death, as surely as if he had wielded the ashtray himself. Then he hears Agent Carney's voice, saying, 'After all, this is the second girlfriend of yours that was murdered,' and the roaring blackness of his grief suddenly threatens to overwhelm him again. Because of you...because of you, Hannah was sent away to that hellhole. Second girlfriend...
"I didn't stop it either. What kind of a best friend was I, that I didn't see what was going on with Lilly?"
Logan, completely oblivious and lost in his dark thoughts, realizes Veronica has said something. "What?"
"I said, I didn't stop it either. I wasn't a very good friend to Lilly," Veronica repeats, wondering what Logan was thinking.
"No, that's not true. You tried...you did what a best friend's supposed to do, you told Lilly what you saw." Logan tries desperately to focus. This time...this time I'm going to make sure...make sure that Veronica survives. He struggles for a moment, then he regains his control. "I can't wait to show your dad...see if he approves of your new look. Thanks...thanks for listening to me about the disguise. I think you'll be safer because of it." He plays with her unfamiliar hair. "Now I know how you feel when you look at my face. It's strange for you to look so different." He cups the back of her head with his hand and bends to kiss her. "Promise me...promise me you're going to be okay."
"I promise," she replies. "I'm not going to take any chances."
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VERONICA MARS
10:00PM SHO ch: 340 60min 2009 TV-MA
Codependence
Logan and Veronica meet with
Professor Kinny; Mike makes contact
with Mac; Keith and Logan head to
Boston for the operation.
Veronica: Kristen Bell. Logan: Jason Dohring
Keith: Enrico Colantoni. Mac: Tina Majorino.
Mike: Michael Trucco. Dr. Kinny: Dan
Castellaneta. Alan: Ned Vaughan.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX: "CODEPENDENCE"
Tues. 3/3/09: Hearst College, Neptune, CA
Logan knocks on the door of Professor Kinny's office. "Hello?" he calls.
"Yes, may I help you?" the professor answers.
Logan and Veronica walk into the office. "Professor Kinny?" Logan starts. "Ah...you may not remember me. I took your Intro to Sociology course two years ago. Logan Echolls."
"Yes, I remember; you do look a little different," Kinny comments.
Logan runs his fingers through his dark hair and replies, "Yes, I'm trying a new look."
"Actually, I'm referring to your quite memorable class appearance sans clothing. It's nice to see you've turned over a new leaf," he says drily. "What can I do for you? I believe I heard that you had transferred, Mr. Echolls."
"This is my friend Veronica Mars. She's a private detective. She's investigating a boarding school for a client; the school is a tough-love school–I don't know if you're familiar with that term–and I thought you might be able to offer her some advice on the situation."
"Veronica Mars?" Kinny's eyes narrow as he evaluates Veronica. "Veronica Mars who was instrumental in solving the campus serial rapes and Dean O'Dell's murder?"
"One and the same," Veronica replies. "Professor Kinny, have you heard of the tough-love schools?"
"Of course. The schools are an outgrowth of the twelve-step programs and forcible drug rehabilitation programs that began in the sixties. There's currently little regulation of private schools, and there have been some cases of abuse in the press. What school are you looking at specifically?"
"Briar Hill Academy in Vermont," Veronica answers. "I'm going to be going undercover there to try to document what goes on at the school for a potential lawsuit, and Logan thought you might be able to help me prepare."
"You're not seriously thinking of going undercover at one these schools?" Kinny says in disbelief.
"If the schools are as bad as they appear to be, someone needs to expose what's going on there. And there will be two people undercover with me to protect me," Veronica replies defensively. Logan squeezes her hand, and she tries to calm down.
"This is an area I've been researching for thirty years. As Mr. Echolls probably told you, every year I conduct an experiment modeled on the infamous Stanford Prison Experiment. And every year, after just a forty-eight hour experiment, students report significant emotional disturbances."
Kinny stands up and begins to pace around the room. "The students who participate in my experiment are amateurs. The ones who act as prison guards are chosen at random and have no vested interest in acting cruelly towards their fellow students, yet they usually turn manipulative and even sadistic after a few short hours. Where you're going, on the other hand...many of these institutions recruit their employees from the damaged graduates of years past. The people who run these schools believe the students are incapable of acting morally and are committed to breaking them psychologically. They encourage the use of severe peer pressure to enforce their regulations and use a harsh system of reward and punishment to inculcate drastic behavioral changes."
"I know. I've met a graduate of the school. It was eerie; she was grateful for what the school had done, and she spoke of the honor of being allowed to help the newer students," Veronica comments.
"Yes, the school makes each student complicit in the damage that is done to the others. Everyone is afraid of having their program extended, so they willingly join in on the abuse of the others," Kinny explains.
Logan interrupts, "What was that about a twelve-step program?" More than a few people had urged Logan to look into Alcoholics Anonymous when his drinking was out of control, but he had always resisted because of the insistence on turning one's fate over to a higher power.
Kinny looks at him thoughtfully. "Some people regard Alcoholics Anonymous and the other twelve-step programs as cults. Now there's no doubt that some people have been helped by these programs, but if you look at the standard definition of a cult, there are intriguing similarities. For instance, one of the characteristics of a cult is a strong belief that anyone who does not embrace the tenets of the cult must be avoided and ostracized; in the case of AA, that refers to anyone who rejects the philosophy that they are powerless to resist drinking and therefore must turn their fate over to their higher power."
Veronica and Logan exchange a glance, both of them miserably thinking about their alcoholic mothers and their apparent helplessness.
Kinny continues, "AA preaches that it is only through the alcoholic's continued attendance at meetings, or 'working the program', that the drunk will continue to survive without alcohol. If you do not accept this belief, even if you stop drinking, you are what is termed a 'dry drunk', or you are said to be 'in denial'. They believe that an individual must renounce their belief that they have any control over their problems: that is, that the individual has no personal responsibility. You must submit to the group, attend meetings, and endlessly recite long stories of your past misbehaviors. If you question these principles, you are told that you are doomed to repeat your past mistakes and live a life of misery and shame. You are told over and over again that you are powerless and worthless."
Veronica swallows. "That does sound...a lot like what I've been hearing about Briar Hill's programs."
"Take for instance step four of the twelve steps, the moral inventory. You are expected to complete a checklist categorizing your moral failures. There are not too many self-aware individuals who would affirm that they have absolutely no moral failings; only a true sociopath is unable to admit their moral flaws. The program is designed to tear you down, and then rebuild you, or reprogram you, into a willing participant in the program. Let's look at some of AA's slogans: 'Your best thinking got you here;' 'You have a thinking problem, not a drinking problem;' 'Feelings aren't facts;' 'The program never fails; people just fail the program.'"(6)
Veronica remembers the slogan Kavner told them. "How about, 'There's no right or wrong, only what works.'"
"That's a new one to me, but it sounds like a typical saying. Think about the sponsor system in AA; isn't that just a glorified recruiting system for a cult? And no one ever graduates: you're in recovery, for the rest of your life. You'll never be free of the power of alcohol. And as far as the new recruits–they say that 'newcomers need fixing'; 'newcomers can't think right.'"
"Wait...that's what Kavner said. Newcomers are the new girls at the school, and the oldcomers are in charge."
"The oldcomers are in charge of fixing the newcomers, who are unable to fix themselves unless they accept the will of the group. Exactly," Kinny agrees.
Veronica says, "And the parents are encouraged to recommend other clients. They're doing the recruiting for the school. Oh my god. And the students have to admit that they need the school in order to graduate. The girl I talked to said, 'I'm so grateful that my parents sent me there; I tell them over and over again 'thank you for caring enough to help me'.'"
"When is this operation happening?" Kinny asks, curiously.
"Over spring break," Veronica replies, lost in thought.
Logan says to Kinny, "What are you thinking?"
"You're going to be monitored during this operation, Veronica?" Kinny persists.
"Yes, my dad and the attorney who's working on the case are going to be observing and listening. I'll have an audio bug, and another operative has already placed video surveillance devices around the school," Veronica answers, distractedly.
"This would be an incredible opportunity for me...to observe one of these schools firsthand. I've run my experiment numerous times, but it can't compare to actually witnessing the psychological abuse for myself," Kinny says. "Is there any chance–"
"I vote 'yes'," Logan interrupts. "The more eyes on Veronica, the better. I can't see that Mr. Mars or the attorney working with us would have an objection. You'd be willing to be an expert witness in a court case, right?" He turns to Veronica. "Don't you agree?"
Lost in her train of thought, Veronica jumps when Logan addresses her. "What?"
"Don't you think it's a good idea to have Dr. Kinny help with the monitoring?" Logan repeats.
"Oh, yes," she replies, still somewhat distracted. "I'm sure it would be okay."
"Dr. Kinny, maybe...maybe you could work with Veronica this week. Maybe there are ways you can help her prepare for what she'll be facing. Meditation, relaxation techniques, whatever."
Dr. Kinny looks at Logan sympathetically, realizing the extent of Logan's concern. He glances at Veronica and says, "Absolutely. We can do some role-playing, so she'll know what to expect." Kinny looks back at Logan, who nods his thanks.
Logan watches as Veronica literally shakes herself, steeling herself for the task she intends to do. Veronica says calmly, "Thanks for speaking to us, Dr. Kinny. I'll have my dad call you after I speak to him." She walks over to the desk and shakes Kinny's hand. Logan does the same, then he escorts her out of the office.
As they walk down the hallway, Veronica puts her arm around Logan. "What was that about you not wearing clothes?"
"Oh...I was hoping you missed that," he replies. "I had a side bet with Wallace on the outcome of the prison experiment."
"And you didn't invite me for the show?"
"You get a private showing anytime you want, m'dear. I think I might still have the mask I wore." At her quizzical expression, he explains, "Yeah...I wore a Lone Ranger mask."
Veronica chuckles. "And nothing else?"
"Nada. Zip. Buck-naked," he replies.
"Mmm...college hijinks. I'm going to take you up on that private show.
Tues. 3/3/09: San Diego RCFL, CA
When Mike steps out of the elevator, he walks slowly down the corridor, surreptitiously peering into each room and looking for a vaguely familiar face. Near the end of the hallway, he sees a young brunette with blue streaks in her hair working at a desk in a room with several other people. She nods slightly when he sees her; Mike enters the room and heads for the most senior-looking agent.
Mike clears his throat and asks, "Hi, I'm trying to find the hard-drive recovery service. This is a priority job from the LA bureau."
Alan replies, "Other end of the hall. The door is marked 'Data Recovery'."
"Thanks." Mike turns around and 'accidentally' drops a file folder as he passes Mac's desk. "Damn!" He stoops down and gathers the papers up; Mac unobtrusively presses a flash drive in his hand without looking at him. Mike pockets the drive and exits the room, heading for the other end of the hall. As he walks, he jiggles the flash drive in his pocket, wondering what it contains.
Tues. 3/3/09 evening: Sunset Cliffs Apartment, Neptune, CA
After a long day preparing for the operation, Logan and Veronica retire to the bedroom. They get ready for bed in silence and slip under the covers without saying a word. They lay facing each in the bed, and Logan caresses Veronica's new red hair. "Hey, stranger," he says finally.
"Hey yourself," she replies. "I'm going to miss you when you leave tomorrow."
"No, I'm going to miss you," he corrects her.
She scoffs. "You always have to have the last word."
Without saying anything, he puts his arms around her and rolls them over so that she is on top of him. Veronica kisses him, and he takes her breath away with the intensity of his response.
Finally he releases her mouth, and she breathes, "Wow. That was...nice."
"But I'm not a nice boy, remember?" he says.
"Oh, thank goodness," she replies, bending her lips to him again. Veronica draws back and says mischievously, "I know...I want to give you something to remember when we can't be together." She starts to inch down his body, kissing his chest and then his abdomen, but he grabs her and pulls her back up to him.
"No, stay up here," he begs her, kissing her again. "Just love me tonight...let me kiss you, I want to remember how you taste, how you feel." He holds onto her.
"Logan?" she asks.
"I just want to remember holding you like this, every time I see you and can't hold you. It's going to be hell for me," he says seriously. Keith drew him aside earlier that day and talked to him about making sure that he would be able to act the role of a guard at the school. 'Will you be able to physically restrain a young girl? What if it's Veronica, and you have to restrain her, even hurt her, while she pretends to fight you? Are you really going to be able to do this, Logan?' Logan said that he knew it was going to be difficult, but if it meant that Veronica would ultimately be protected, he thought he could act the part. He did well at his acting classes, he told Keith, and Keith nodded that he understood.
Logan didn't tell Keith about one frightening day at UCLA last year, when Logan was assigned the part of a villainous, evil character in an acting improv class. To his distress, at one point he found himself improvising lines his father had shouted at him during one of their pitched battles. The class applauded his efforts and lauded his realistic portrayal, but Logan had thrown up in the restroom after the class. He had looked at himself in the mirror, trying to see if he could spot any similarities to his father's famous face. Aaron's last words to him rang in his ears, 'I never stopped being your father, and I never will.' His stomach heaved again, and Logan stooped over the sink. He thought to himself, DNA's a motherfucking sonofabitch. He went straight from class to a bar and drank until he couldn't remember he was an Echolls.
Now, Logan concentrates on the softness of her skin and the feel of her supple body pressed against him, and he tells himself that he can act this part, he can do this role, just so that she will be okay.
"What are you thinking?" she asks curiously.
He shakes his head and kisses her again, trying to categorize the different flavors that make up Veronica Mars, memorizing the smell of her skin, her hair, her sweat, the various lotions and cosmetics she uses that add up to the overall scent of her. He closes his eyes and concentrates on her body pressed against him: the pebbled nipples jostling his chest; the slight bristle of a small patch of hair she missed shaving her legs; the dense thatch of hair between her legs that so titillates him when he brushes against it. Logan caresses her back and legs, stroking the full length of her, committing the curves and concavities of her body to memory. Finally, content that he's satiated himself with the unique loveliness of her, enough to sustain him over the coming days and nights, he reaches between her legs and begins to caress her slowly and gently. Logan contents himself with the sounds of her breath, hitching and gasping, as she allows herself to be stroked to arousal. Veronica begins to touch him, mimicking his languidness, and the feeling of her hand encircling him electrifies him.
When she moans her readiness, he adjusts their positions and slips up into her. Before she can sit up and set her own pace, he rolls them over again so that he is on top of her. Logan desperately wants to go slowly, to prolong and heighten the sensations, and for once he ignores her cues. He takes his time, frustrating her, lavishing and reveling in her. Veronica whimpers a little, and he kisses her again, silencing her with the proof of his intentions. Their bodies undulate and mingle as she acquiesces to his inexorable pace. He concentrates on the feel of her inside, trying to imagine their bodies merging and fusing.
Logan begins to stroke her clit at the same lazy, deliberate speed, and he suddenly hears her moan: a new susurration of acceptance and lust, a thorough succumbing to him; and he thrills as she shudders gently around him. Veronica grasps at him, holding on desperately as he inundates her with the tenderness of his implacable thrusting.
"What was that?" she whispers when he finally ceases moving within her.
"I think they call it making love," he replies. "It's how I want to think about you, when we can't be together."
Wed. 3/4/09: San Diego International Airport, San Diego, CA
Veronica drops off Keith and Logan at the departures area of the airport. Keith kisses her and says, "See you on Friday in Boston."
Logan takes a little more time. He hugs her gently, not wanting to let go. He stumbles a little over his words, saying, "When I see you...I won't be able to..."
"I know. But, Logan, remember..." Veronica deliberately scratches her cheek, as she did when they were at Duncan's suite at the Neptune Grand a few days ago. He smiles, remembering. She says, "You know I love you, right?"
"Love you too," he whispers before kissing her a final time. As he enters the terminal, he keeps looking over his shoulder at her. She waves goodbye again as he disappears from sight.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
VERONICA MARS
10:00PM SHO ch: 340 60min 2009 TV-MA
Ruse
Keith arranges Veronica's admission
to the school; Veronica enlists Dick's
help again.
Veronica: Kristen Bell. Keith: Enrico Colantoni.
Dick: Ryan Hansen. Dr. Castro: Bob Gunton.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN: "RUSE"
Wed. 3/4/09: Education Alternatives Office, Boston, MA
"Mr. Morris, the counselor will see you now," the receptionist tells Keith.
"Thank you," he replies, standing up and walking into the inner office.
"Mr. Morris, how can we help you today?" The man extends a hand in greeting, and Keith grasps it across the desk. "I'm Dr. Paul Castro. I understand you're here about your daughter."
"Please...call me Keith. Yes, I'm here about Connie." Keith pulls out a file folder from his briefcase and passes it to Dr. Castro. "I'm at my wit's end. She's been tested in the 98th percentile, but her grades have plummeted over the last year. Connie's mixed up with a bad crowd. I think they're drinking, maybe even doing drugs; she was arrested for shoplifting six weeks ago. I persuaded the judge to give her probation. Now I'm regretting that." He sighs heavily. "I wish I had let her spend a couple days in jail...maybe she would have smartened up. The last straw was two weeks ago. She got a tattoo on her neck; I don't know how she convinced them she was over eighteen. I'm assuming she has a fake ID." Keith pushes a picture across the desk of Veronica, with red hair and the tattoo on her neck clearly visible above a revealing top.
"How can we help, Keith?" Dr. Castro replies.
"There's a boy..." Keith starts hesitantly.
"There's always a boy, in my experience," Dr. Castro comments.
"I think if I can just get her away from him, that maybe...maybe she'll at least finish high school. She's threatened to run away. My wife died several years ago, and poor Connie has just deteriorated ever since."
Dr. Castro thumbs through the papers in the folder. "Keith, it sounds like it's been very frustrating for you. You probably had substantial legal bills resulting from your daughter's arrest."
Keith nods.
"And Connie's in real danger, make no mistake." Dr. Castro stands up and begins to pace around the office. "I've seen so many troubled girls in my career. Well-meaning parents are hesitant to take the necessary steps to help them. With the internet and all the raunchy shows on television, it's not surprising that young people have no moral boundaries." He looks at Keith shrewdly. "I'm betting there was a pregnancy scare as well. Maybe even an STD."
Keith nods and sighs again, his face the picture of a distraught father.
"You really don't have a choice. Your daughter needs a residential placement."
"Excuse me? I really was just interested in family counseling," Keith explains.
"I'm afraid it's way too late for that. It sounds like your daughter is in real danger: a drug overdose, running away and living on the streets, or even being arrested for a serious crime and spending her life in prison. I can cite you hundreds of cases of girls who didn't survive because their parents weren't willing to take the necessary precautions to safeguard them."
"What do you mean, a residential placement?"
"There's a boarding school where I've had a great deal of success with my clients. It's in Vermont, on a large campus. Girls only." Dr. Castro stresses. "The girls get a lot of physical exercise, they are assigned daily chores, and there's a strong emphasis on group therapy and personal responsibility. And 90 of the graduates go on to college, some even to elite schools like the Ivy League." Dr. Castro pulls a brochure from his desk and hands it to Keith.
Keith opens the brochure and begins to read. "I don't know about a boarding school."
"It's exactly the right idea for your daughter. No visitors are allowed. The inappropriate boyfriend will not able to be make contact, and your daughter will be safe. If she works hard and cooperates, she can talk to you every week. As her behavior improves, she can earn a trip home to visit." Dr. Castro looks somberly at Keith. "May I ask who referred you to us?"
"A business associate of mine raved about the work you did with his daughter." Keith mentions the name of a man whose daughter attended the Briar Hill Academy several years earlier; by doing dogged research, Keith learned that the man would be out of town and unreachable for several weeks, by the end of which time the operation would be concluded. "He said you saved her. He was certain she would be dead by now without your help."
"It's always gratifying to hear that my clients are happy with their results," Dr. Castro preens. "Do you have any questions about the school?"
"I'm concerned about the need of a security staff," Keith says nervously, pointing at the phrase on the brochure. "Are some of these girls dangerous?"
"Only to themselves," Dr. Castro answers smoothly. "Admittedly, many of the girls are resistant at first. Think of your own daughter. I bet she's cursed you, maybe even struck out at you."
Keith nods, ashamed.
"And you've probably yelled back in frustration, maybe even resorted to returning her physical violence. You're in a cycle of damage right now that needs to be broken. If you don't do something drastic, your relationship with your daughter may be lost forever. Based on what you're telling me, your daughter has a severe substance abuse problem and behavioral issues. The school is staffed by professionals–people who have been trained in therapeutic techniques and are experienced in the area of addiction treatment."
"Does that mean that Connie will be seeing a psychiatrist?" Keith asks.
"Of course she'll be evaluated when she enters the school and placed in a therapy group appropriate to her needs. We find that group therapy is ideal in these situations; the girls discuss their problems and help each other to change their behavioral patterns to more positive ones."
"What if she needs medication?" Keith says, worriedly.
"I'm not seeing any indications of that in her record; her school counselor didn't recommend it. But if she does need any kind of medical attention, of course she'll be treated immediately."
"And the school is accredited, right? She'll have the equivalent of a high school diploma?" Keith queries.
"Absolutely. Our graduates usually go on to college."
"I'm sorry to be such a worrier, it's just...it's been just the two of us now for the last five years, and we were so close at first..."
"Until she began to have problems," Dr. Castro concludes. "I know you want to do the right thing for your daughter, and I can guarantee you that if you hesitate to place her in some sort of residential program, she will suffer. One girl whose parents declined to place her in this kind of program committed suicide several years ago, and I'll never forgive myself for not convincing her parents that she truly needed help."
Keith remains silent, apparently processing this last statement. Finally, he speaks up. "I'm concerned about the fees. I'm not a wealthy man."
"How much would it cost if you had to engage a defense lawyer to defend her in court, or if you had to hire a private investigator to track her down when she runs away? Or perhaps more appropriately, what is it worth to you to have a healthy and happy daughter? Most parents would say that their child's happiness is priceless." Dr. Castro pulls out another brochure. It has several graphs, relating the total cost of private counseling sessions, lost wages due to time off work to attend therapy sessions and court appearances, costs of medications, and private tutors to the yearly cost of Briar Hill Academy. Finally, there is a brightly-colored graphic that ominously compares the recidivism rate of girls attending private counseling or nonresidential drug treatment programs compared to residential treatment. The caption claims that Briar Hill has nearly a 99 success rate. On the reverse side, the brochure lists payment options on a weekly or monthly basis, as well as an incentive program for referrals that lowers the total cost by 10 for each successful referral. Keith struggles to maintain his concerned, 'worried father' face and to hide his growing anger.
"Okay, you're right. I'm at my wit's end with Connie. The screaming match last night...she told me she wished I was dead. I'm willing to admit I don't know how to handle her," Keith concedes.
"You're doing the right thing. She will thank you for it. And she'll be alive and happy." Dr. Castro pulls some forms from his desk.
Keith reads the first form carefully. It specifies that the residential placement will be for at least ninety days, at which time the commitment will be reevaluated. The payment for the first ninety days is due in full at the time of commitment. It states that the student will not be allowed any contact with any family members for the first two weeks; at that time, limited contact with first-degree relatives on a weekly basis in permitted. The contract states that all communication is supervised by school staff; there are no mail privileges and no internet access whatsoever, and no visitors are allowed without prior written permission of the school's headmaster. Despite Dr. Castro's implication that new students were evaluated by a psychiatric professional, the contract makes no mention of such an evaluation.
Keith looks up and queries, "Connie will be evaluated by a psychiatrist when she gets there, right?"
"Yes, Keith. That's our policy."
Keith hopes that the bug he's wearing is picking up every word the slimeball is saying. He continues to read. "There's no mention in here of the living situation. Are there dorms? What are they like? What kind of recreation is available?"
"The girls sleep in bunk beds and share the responsibilities of maintaining the upkeep of their rooms. There aren't a lot of recreation options, to be frank. Most of the girls are at the school because of the lack of supervision of their free time at home. The girls are expected to participate in physical education daily, which is a state requirement, of course. The food is simple and nutritious at the school. The choices are limited; many of the girls' behavioral problems begin to improve due to a plain diet that restricts processed food and sugar. The girls all wear the same clothes, which means there is no opportunity to make poor clothing choices." Dr. Castro taps the photo of Veronica wearing a low-cut top and heavy eye makeup. "In short, the girls are given reasonable limits on their behavior to encourage them to make appropriate choices when they reenter the outside world. Most of the students welcome the restrictions at the school and tell us that they feel freer than they ever did before, now that there are no pressures on them to act inappropriately."
"That makes so much sense. Connie's so spoiled; she never had to work a day in her life, and she seems determined to throw away everything I've ever done for her," Keith says morosely. He continues to read the contract. He looks at the next section and reads it aloud.
'When it becomes necessary, in the sole discretion of the Academy, to restrain the Student, the undersigned authorizes the employees of the Academy to use pepper spray, taser, mace, restraints, and/or handcuffs as a means to or an alternative to avoid, whenever possible, the potential for injuries, complications, and/or altercations that can can arise from the employees having to physically restrain or wrestle with the student in order to subdue the student.'(7)
Keith doesn't have to act outraged; he merely reveals a small portion of his simmering anger to the doctor. "What the hell is this? Restraints? You've got to be kidding. And tasers? Why would you ever need to use something like that on a young girl?" He slams the contract on the desk.
"Mr. Morris...Keith...Please, listen to me." Dr. Castro waits a moment for Keith to calm himself. "Of course, the school has to have the option of controlling the girls in a safe manner should they become disruptive. They have these options, but they are rarely used. Such extreme measures would only be used if there is a danger of a girl hurting herself. I'm not going to lie to you: some of the students come from extremely disturbed backgrounds, and you would want us to protect your own daughter should another girl become violent."
Keith grimaces. He pretends to think a moment, then nods and continues to read.
'Briar Hill Academy tries to make medical decisions taking into consideration a balance between added costs to the parent for medical care, and the true medical need of the Student. The staff, like any parent, can miscalculate the timing or need of medical intervention. Such miscalculations can result in the student not getting medical care as soon as would be recommended or to avoid complications. As a result of such judgment calls by nonmedical staff, if the child is harmed, the program shall be held free from liability.'(8)
Keith asks, "I don't understand the section on medical care. Isn't there a nurse at the school? Why would there ever be a question whether a student needs medical attention?"
"The school has a nurse on call twenty-four hours a day, and the health needs of every student are taken care of. The waiver merely protects the school from frivolous lawsuits by overzealous malpractice attorneys. It's a standard legal release, similar to the situation at most public schools. If you had to pay to send your child to your local school, you would certainly be asked to sign a similar waiver."
Not likely, you bastard, Keith thinks. He pretends to waver. "I don't know. What proof can you offer me that this is the right thing for my daughter? What about this group therapy? What kind of therapeutic techniques are used?"
Dr. Castro sighs. "There are no guarantees, just as there is no guarantee that your baby will be healthy, that your smiling toddler won't grow up to be a screaming teenager who sneaks off to smoke marijuana and have sex with boys, that your teenager won't go to prison or buy a weapon and take their schoolmates hostage. But what the school does offer is the proven techniques of twelve-step programs and group therapy in a supportive environment, combined with limited access to the pressures that caused your daughter's problems in the first place." Dr. Castro looks at Keith sympathetically. "You obviously care about your daughter a great deal, and you're a knowledgeable parent trying to do what's right by asking questions. You took the most important step: you got a recommendation from a person you trust, and now you're examining your options carefully. Of course, if you're not comfortable making your decision today, you can come back at a later date to discuss it further. If there are no openings at Briar Hill at that time, we can look at some of the other options available to you. I know you want to do what's best for your daughter."
Ah, there's the hard sell. Limited time offer, Keith muses. "No, I think I've made up my mind." He signs the contract and pulls out his checkbook to make out a check. "So when do I bring my daughter to the school?"
"Keith, we don't recommend that parents bring their children to the school themselves. Your daughter is smart enough to know that her situation has changed, and I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to run away during your trip. We've had great success with a transport service, J. Silver and Associates. They're a bonded agency that will pick up your daughter at your home and take her safely and securely to the school for an additional one thousand dollars. I guarantee you that Mr. Silver will save you from a lot of anguish," Dr. Castro explains.
"I don't know..." Keith replies. Dr. Castro waits patiently. Finally, Keith sighs and begins to write out a check. "Can we...can we set this up for Friday night? It's my mother's birthday that day. We're having a family dinner, and I'd like Connie to be there."
"Of course. I'll tell Mr. Silver to make a pickup at, shall we say, one a.m.? We've found that picking up the girls in the middle of the night, when they're not prepared for a confrontation, makes for the easiest situation all around. She won't need any clothes other than her underwear and the most basic personal toiletries. Everything else will be provided by the school." Keith nods his understanding, and Dr. Castro concludes, "You've made all the right decisions, Keith."
Thurs. 3/5/09: Hearst College, Neptune, CA
Dick sees a girl that reminds him of Veronica with a red ponytail protruding from under a Che Guevara hat. He looks again, realizing it is Veronica, and hurries to catch up to her.
"Yo, wait up, Ronnie," he calls to her. "New look, huh? How's Emo Boy liking it?"
"Emo Boy?" she asks.
"You know, our friend who was caught on tape in Paris last night, chugging martinis with Mischa Barton." Dick arches an eyebrow, and Veronica laughs. He continues, "All of a sudden, he lands on the front page of 'The Smoking Gun' website after managing to behave himself for a month."
"It's tragic what's happened to him," Veronica replies. "I've begged him to seek help."
"Fer sure, dudette. So what up with the hair, Ronnie? New case?" he asks.
"Something like that," she responds. "Listen, Dick, he wanted to contact you but..."
"I know. He's worried about the paps."
"It's important no one knows where he really is. He's working with me on this case." She thinks for a moment. "Do you think you could maybe help us with this little ruse? Give Chip Diller a call on your cell and just casually say that you heard from him, he's really enjoying himself in Paris...throw in a few good details, maybe some celebrities he was hanging with?"
Dick nods that he can do it. "So, you really think the paps are monitoring my cell?"
"There's an easy way to find out," she says. "Make the call and see if the rumor shows up on TSG."
"When you see him, tell him the waves have been totally gnarlacious lately. The bone yard is waiting...Listen, Veronica, didya talk to Mac?"
"I didn't talk to her, but I was right about the code in her email. She made contact with my old boyfriend; she said she's doing all right, but she's bored. She's helping me too," Veronica adds. She starts to walk.
Dick falls in beside her, putting his arm over her shoulders. "What are you guys doing, trying to take down the president? Are we going to have to call you Jackie Bauer now?"
"Dick, I have killed two people since midnight. I have not slept for over 24 hours. So maybe, maybe you should be a little more afraid of me than you are," she replies sarcastically. Veronica tries to pry Dick's hand off her shoulder unsuccessfully.
"Oh, I've been afraid of you for a long time now. It's the taser. And, of course, I remember the good ol' days when you destroyed my surfboard without a second thought." Dick squeezes her shoulder. "But now, you're practically my boo. Don't forget, you said you owed me a favor, on the house."
"Don't remind me," she sighs. "Please don't waste it on a cheerleader."
Thurs. 3/5/09 very late: Sunset Cliffs Apartment, CA
VERONICA
The apartment seems too quiet. After I took Dad and Logan to the airport yesterday, I took Backup to the kennel, and now...the apartment feels too empty. My classes today seemed to drag; all I could think about was this evening's prep session with Dr. Kinny.
When I got to Kinny's office, we started with some role-playing, repeating the exercises until he was satisfied I was able to respond correctly. He talked about the warning signs that I needed to be watching for that would indicate that my anxiety and stress were building to dangerous levels. Then he spent an hour teaching me various mental techniques that helped Vietnam veterans survive their P.O.W. experiences. Then, Dr. Kinny led me through a series of guided imagery relaxation exercises, stressing that while I was undercover, I needed to maximize the benefit of whatever rest periods I was allowed. He talked for a long time about milieu control. He said that the school would be controlling every aspect of my existence while I was there, depriving me of sleep and adequate nutrition, and not allowing me to make any choices. I will be inundated with repetitive thought control techniques and intimidated physically and mentally.
Dr. Kinny scared me today. He seemed pleased by our session, but I can't help but think that to him this is just another experiment, like the prison simulation he runs every year. He said more than once that this is an incredible opportunity for him to do his research.
I'm tired...more tired than I remember feeling in a long time, but I know part of it is feeling alone again. I miss Dad and Logan. I know they need to be there ahead of time to prepare, but...I wish they were here with me.
Mike left me a message while I was working with Kinny; he said Mac gave him a flash drive with a list of all the FBI employees who had accessed the Slasher files along with the originating ISP addresses of several unauthorized incursions into the case files. Mike said she looked all right, but they couldn't talk. In a text file on the drive, Mac wrote, "Tell Veronica I'm okay, just bored out of my mind. I'll keep trying to find out who could have known enough to make Hannah's murder look like the Slasher did it." Mike offered to take a message back for me. I was too tired even to make a phone call, so I texted Mike to please tell Mac that I would be undercover at the school starting on Saturday, hopefully only for a week, and that Mike should arrange to meet up with Mac again in a few days and forward any new information to Dad's cell phone.
When I look in the mirror, my new look still startles me. I look tough and bitchy, like I belong in juvenile detention.
I've got to get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a long day; the plane flight to Boston, a last minute briefing with Dad, and then...I don't know how I'm going to make it through Briar Hill.
Fri. 3/6/09 late: Rented house, suburbs of Boston, MA
Keith knocks lightly on the bedroom door where Veronica is trying to nap. "Honey, they're here. I love you, Veronica. Remember, I'll be watching you every moment."
Veronica nods and closes her eyes, pretending to be asleep; her heart is pounding as she waits. She goes over the lines she rehearsed with her dad earlier that day. I'm not going to have to act scared. I'm terrified.
(5) Zimbardo, Philip. The Lucifer Effect. New York: Random House, 2007, p. 180.
(6) www•orange-papers•org/orange-culta0•html
(7) For the purposes of my fic, I changed some of the wording from my source material. Here is the original text: 'When it becomes necessary, in the sole discretion of the Program, to restrain the Student, the Sponsors authorize the Program to use pepper spray (electrical disabler, mace, mechanical restraints, handcuffs) as a means to or alternative to avoid, whenever possible, the potential for injuries, complications, and/or altercations that can can arise from the Program staff having to physically restrain or wrestle with the student in order to subdue the student.'
Szalavitz, Maia. Help At Any Cost. New York: Riverhead Books, 2006. p. 155; quoting a copy of an actual contract read on ABC News, "A Parent's Choice," Primetime Live, 1/21/1998.
(8) This is the original text: "The section on medical care in the 'Parent Manual', for example, reads, 'We try to make our medical decisions taking into consideration a balance between added costs to the parent for medical care, and true medical need of the Student. The staff, like any parent, can miscalculate the timing or need of medical intervention. Such miscalculations can result in the student not getting medical care as soon as would be recommended or to avoid complications.' The manual goes on to say that as a result of such 'judgment calls' by nonmedical staff, if the child is harmed, the program shall be held free from liability. Ordinary school or treatment contracts, while often containing legal waivers, rarely even imply that cost will be considered before a child can get medical attention." Szalavitz, p. 155.
Illegitimi Non Carborundum: Don't Let the Bastards Get You Down
Bone Yard: Surferspeak for the area where the waves break.