DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, the canon events of their storylines, and recognizable dialogue belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Chapter 9 occurs during modified version of #1.21 "A Trip to the Dentist."


Chapter 9

Battle would be joined Monday morning. I would love to say "at dawn" for the dramatic effect, but truth is, that's too early for tactical brain function. At least, for me. Priorities, people! Sleep, coffee … then, interrogate the assholes who perpetrated and contributed to (and/or did not prevent) the assault at Shelly's party.

Over the weekend, I needed a bit of escapism while I devised my plan of attack. For a couple of hours, diversion came in the form of the movie musical Grease.

Frenchy hit the nail on the head when she said, "Men are rats. Listen to me. They're fleas on rats. Worse than that – they're amoebas on fleas on rats. I mean, they're too low for even the dogs to bite. The only man a girl can depend on is her daddy."

I could totally relate to Sandy when Danny acted as if he did not to know her after the football game … and when she realized that Rizzo had only been pretending to be her friend. It is brutal when you think you can trust people and only to have them turn their backs on you.

A long time ago, I thought I had friends. Now, I had a list of suspects.

I needed a friend right now – someone to lean on, someone who could possibly even help. But I couldn't dump all this on Wallace yet. And I certainly couldn't tell Weevil until I had solid information.

Although I could always depend on my Dad, I couldn't talk to him about this. And even if I decided to ask for his help, he wasn't here right now.

Once Mac told us the name on the passport that was delivered to the Airport Marriott, it made the process of finding Duncan decidedly easier. While I held down the fort (and took Backup for walks), Dad was on a short trip to Cuba.

[

[

It was Monday morning and I'd had all weekend to think about what Tad had told me. But that did not mean I was ready to see Logan. I needed more info before I could decide exactly how angry I should be with him. Fortunately, these days I had my own personal bodyguard.

I heard Logan running after me, calling my name. I just kept walking. When I could no longer hear Logan's voice, I glanced over my shoulder. And there he was. My bodyguard.

Weevil had put himself in Logan's path and would not allow him to pass. I couldn't hear what they were saying to one another, but Logan looked like he was about to lose control. On the other hand, Weevil looked like he was totally in control.

I had gotten out of bed feeling like I was ready to take on the whole world – well, at least the whole school. As soon as I saw Logan, I realized that I was not emotionally ready to talk to people about that night. I wasn't sure if I would fall apart … or if I'd tear them apart. I decided today was not the day to find out.

For the rest of the day, I was outwardly quiet, but my thoughts were loud as I allowed possible conversations and interactions to play out in my head. It was safe in there – I could rewind and edit when I didn't like how things went. Unfortunately, I wouldn't have that much control over the actual interrogations.

[

Wallace had something to take care of at the end of lunch. Moments after his departure, Weevil sat down next to me.

"Thanks for running interference with Logan earlier." I took a bite of nearly edible cake.

"He been bothering you?"

"Nothing I can't handle, but since … that day at the Camelot, he keeps trying to talk to me."

"And?"

"And what? Clearly, I don't want to talk to him." I was mildly annoyed at his implication.

"Sorry. Old habit. He's not my favorite person."

I gave him a look that hopefully communicated that Logan wasn't a favorite of mine either.

[

That evening, I had just gotten out of the shower when I heard Backup barking in the living room. Walking out to check on him, I could see that someone was at the door.

Then, I heard a voice say, "I'm not leaving."

I took a deep breath to steady myself before opening the door. I could not yet look Logan in the eye.

"What did I do, Veronica? Can you just tell me so that I can … apologize … or explain?"

"Okay. Explain to me why you were the one with GHB the night of Shelly Pomroy's party when someone drugged and raped me. Explanation? Apology?"

He attempted an explanation for why he had the drugs, what he had intended to do with them. No matter how much he tried to explain, it did not change the fact that what he intended and what actually happened were two very different things.

Before closing the door on him, I said, "I'm going to find out who did this to me and I'm going to make them pay. Even if it was you."

I might not have been ready earlier today, but now, I was ready. May God have mercy on the responsible parties, because I did not plan to.

[

[

On Tuesday, I drove into the school parking lot and immediately noticed Weevil standing by his motorcycle – clearly, waiting for me. It was like he had radar. In the past, that might have bothered me. However, his protective tendency had grown on me.

As I gathered my things and was getting out of my car, I saw him strolling over. It was fairly impressive how casual he could appear while moving with purpose.

"Good morning, kind sir. Are you here to escort me to class?"

"Why? Do you need an escort?"

As we walked toward the building, I replied cautiously. "I had a visitor last night."

"Anyone I know?"

I nodded.

"The Sheriff's out of town, right?"

I nodded again.

His eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you call me?"

"I didn't invite him in – we talked at the door. He wasn't there long enough for me to need any backup … other than Backup."

"Please tell me he growled at Logan. Maybe even a little barking?"

I nodded and laughed at that.

"I knew I liked your dog. Good judge of character." Weevil stopped walking as he put a hand on my arm. "But you're alright?"

I looked him straight in the eye. "I'm fine. But thanks for asking."

He leaned toward me and whispered, "Do you know how much I want to kiss you right now?"

"At least as much as I want to kiss you."

But we were out in the open and there were other people around. A kiss in front of God and everybody? That display of affection would have to wait.

"Will I see you later?" he asked hopefully.

"I've got a busy day ahead. And Dad gets back later. So dinner at home – you know, daddy-daughter time."

He nodded and opened the door for me. It was one of the few displays of kindness I would see all day.

[

My primary mission for today (and for as many days as it took) was to find out what happened at Shelly's party. Tad's info led me to Logan, who had said he was with Luke and Sean when he bought the Liquid X.

Luke revealed that he had given two doses to Dick and figured that he planned (but failed) to have Madison take one. I decided my next witness would need to be someone who actually liked me and would tell me what I needed to know.

When I began to ask Meg about that night, she suggested that maybe it was a good thing that my memory was fuzzy. I pressed her until she told me what she saw: me on a lounge chair, completely out of it, people gathered around to watch body shots, and an unidentified hero who came to my rescue.

As sometimes happens during detective work, some leads are discovered by chance. Although I had no intention of telling Meg about the GHB, I ended up telling her that it went from Luke to Dick but evidently not to Madison.

Then, Meg said something off-handedly that was in fact important. "I wouldn't be so sure that Dick didn't try to give a dose to Madison. Do you happen to remember someone handing you a drink?" When I nodded, she went on to explain that Madison liked to play a childish prank that she calls "a trip to the dentist."

When I cornered Madison, the puzzle pieces that she contributed to solving this mystery had to do with the fact that I had been making out with – according to her – everyone, including her boyfriend, Dick. Hence, the fury that led her to scrawl the letters SLUT on my vehicle. She rolled her eyes at me when I asked if she had handed off the drink Dick gave her, but she tossed an admission over her shoulder as she walked away.

[

When I arrived home from my fun-filled day, the fun continued. Apparently, the head of security at Kane Software, Clarence Weidman, had found the bug in the plant I had Wallace deliver. As I walked into the apartment, Alicia was yelling at Dad – saying that he didn't seem to care that she could have lost her job. I tried to explain, but he shushed me and sent me to my room. It was immature and a little petty, but I couldn't help saying, "He bugged me first," as I walked toward my room.

After Wallace's mom had left, Dad came back to talk to me, to let me know several things: that Duncan was home, but would not be in school for a few days; that we had gotten a new client and he wanted me to get started on some basic background; and that he would be heading to Vegas to follow up on someone he had been tracking for a while.

My father and I definitely did not have your typical father-daughter relationship, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. Considering some of the screwed up families I've seen in this town, we've got it pretty good. And I don't take that for granted for one second.

That was the primary reason I felt so weird about not telling him, among other things, what was happening with me and Weevil. I fully intended to tell him … at some point. It just seemed completely unnecessary to bring on the parental wrath that would certainly ensue … you know, if it didn't end up going anywhere. So, I stalled.

Maybe once I solved this mystery … The Case of the Party I Should Never Have Attended … and took a little time to deal with the resulting fallout from that. Maybe then.

It would have to be soon. It made me uncomfortable keeping things from Dad, Wallace, and Weevil all at the same time.

[

[

Meeting Weevil in the bathroom had been happening on a regular basis – primarily so that we could speak privately. However, there was the occasional kiss. In general, the action was on the tame side, because when you're in the middle of investigating the night you were raped … physical contact can cause not-so-normal reactions. And until I got to the bottom of this, things needed to seem as normal as possible.

By Wednesday, Weevil was curious why I was interrogating everyone at school. I avoided explanation by simply saying that I didn't have all the info yet. He gave me the same look as he did the night of the poker game when I didn't want to tell him what had happened with Jake Kane – the look told me that he would be asking again, because he knew there was more to it. But for now, he let it go.

"You alright? You've been acting …"

"Strange?" I finished his thought.

"Yeah. So are you … alright?"

"Honestly? I'm not. But I will be. I just need you to trust me a bit longer. Then, I'll fill you in."

"Do I have a choice?" He knew the answer to that before he asked. He kissed me on the forehead and said, "See you later."

[

I made a point of finding Wallace to apologize for having him help me bug Kane Software.

He didn't completely let me off the hook, but made it clear that he could have said no. "You know, I do these things for you and I never ask you why."

"I know. I'd do the same for you."

"Is that so?" He gave me a sideways glance. "Weevil used one of the absence slips I took for you. You, I do favors for. My friends, I put my butt on the line for. That guy taped me to the flag pole. You wanna tell me why I'm helping him out?"

"You're not. Weevil gave me a tip that helped us find Duncan. It was just loose ends and stuff. That's it."

Shaking his head, Wallace said, "I get the feeling there's more to it. Seems like the kind of thing you'd tell a best friend."

[

After that, the remainder of my day was filled with additional witness statements.

Madison had specifically mentioned Casey's name among people I made out with. Thankfully, he was someone who owed me from earlier this year and therefore, would be more willing to answer my questions. It took a bit of coaxing, but eventually he did. What he added to the growing narrative was that Sean and Dick had been feeding me shots while encouraging me to engage in a little girl-on-girl action with Shelly.

Sean denied feeding me shots and tried to direct my wrath elsewhere, saying that Dick had taken me into the guest room and left me there with Beaver.

When I went to talk to Dick, I was armed with enough anger to threaten one of the few things that he held dear – his surfboard. We went 'round and 'round while he denied having any drugs. He said he found me in the guest bedroom and that I was coming on to Beaver. Just before I crushed his precious board, I did get him to admit to putting the GHB in Madison's drink. Put that fact together with Madison's confession – well, at least I now understood why I did not remember that night.

Beaver, who by now had heard that I was asking lots of questions, claimed that (although Dick had encouraged him to take advantage of the situation) nothing happened, that he had left me passed out on the bed in the guest room. He mentioned something about hurling on Carrie Bishop's shoes, which made me wonder if she had seen anything.

As luck would have it, Carrie was working at Java the Hut that afternoon. With her behind the counter, I had a captive – if not entirely willing – audience. Yes, she had in fact seen me in the guest room – as well as a few pieces of clothing that went flying just before Duncan climbed on top of me.

[

As I rang the doorbell of the Kane house, I wondered if I should have stopped to process before having this conversation with Duncan or if it was better that I had not taken the time to brood over it.

When he answered the door, I didn't really give much preamble before accusing him of raping me. But as he explained it, he thought we had an unspoken agreement that we'd just never talk about it. He said the reason he had to get out of there, even though it was consensual, was that his mother had told him I was his sister and he felt guilty for still having those feelings for me.

Now in a daze, I drove to the only place I could think to go – Wallace's house. But I couldn't bring myself to go to the door. I wasn't sure where to begin to tell this whole sordid tale to my best friend. He spared me from having to find the courage to get out of the car; he came out to talk to me. After that, it was a little easier. I felt better after I finished. Of course, he felt worse. But just having someone to talk it through with made a big difference. At least now I knew what had happened that night. It wasn't good, but it was no longer a mystery.

While I was there, I shared with him what I had on Lilly's murder. It was time that I told him everything – well, everything except about Weevil. I also apologized to his mom about having Wallace take the bugged plant to her workplace and tried to assure her that my dad was still interested in her.

There were still two more people I needed to talk to. One was Logan – to tell him that I knew what part he had played, but that I knew he had not raped me and that I did not think he had intended to do me harm that night. I talked to him on the phone while I walked Backup on a nearly empty beach. Logan added another piece of information to complete the puzzle: he had put GHB in Duncan's drink about the time he had rescued me from the salt lick, which was before we ended up in the guest bedroom together. Logan said that he wanted to come clean about all of it because he wanted me to be able to trust him. When I asked why, he responded in a way that surprised me. And yet, it did not.

"I can't stop thinking about the day we kissed at the Camelot. I think you know how I feel. And I know you've been trying to avoid me. But I'd like a chance to change your mind about me. I thought ... maybe I could take you out sometime."

"Logan. No. For oh so many reasons, no."

"Why not?"

"For starters, I'm not interested in you, but more than that …" I paused briefly, while an internal debate happened at the speed of light. "The truth is … I'm seeing someone." After momentary silence, he seemed about to ask who, but I cut him off by saying, "I've gotta go." Then, I quickly hung up.

I made one last call before heading home – to Weevil to see if he had time to come over and talk. He asked if I had found the information I had been looking for. When I answered yes, he immediately said he'd clear his schedule for the rest of the evening. I told him to meet me at my apartment. With Dad out of town, we would be able to talk privately.

[

Backup beat me to the door and sat eagerly waiting for his new favorite person. The moment Weevil stepped into the apartment, he was greeted with sloppy wet kisses, but not from me. It was absolutely adorable seeing the two of them together.

As soon as the love-fest was over, I led Weevil over to the couch where we could sit and talk. Backup sat at our feet, hoping for more affection.

"First, I want to apologize for being so … weird lately." That seemed like a good place to begin.

"Don't worry about it. All I care about is you. What did you find out? I mean, if you're ready to tell me about it." He waited for my response.

"I was drugged, but I wasn't …" I looked at the floor, at my hands, at Backup – anywhere but Weevil's face. "I was with Duncan." I didn't realize that I was rubbing up and down my thighs until he reached over to hold my hands still. This helped calm me down and I was able to continue. "Apparently, we ended up together. He was wasted and I was … out of it … I guess our feelings and nature …"

"Veronica, I … I'm not sure what to say. I'm just glad you're okay."

Turning my face toward him, a tear slipped down my cheek. "And I'm glad you're here."

"What do you need me to do?"

"You mean like who should you beat up?" I laughed, although it wasn't really a joking matter.

"Well, yeah. Or whatever."

"Nobody. There's nobody I want you to beat up. It was an Aristotelian confluence of events."

"Meaning?"

"Several things came together and conspired against me that night. One person bought the drugs and gave some to a guy who tried to give it to his girlfriend who handed the cup off to me and then someone also put some in Duncan's drink." I shook my head at the craziness of it all. "Too many people contributed to it to put the blame on any one person."

"But that's the thing – people contributed to it. 'Rape' might not be the right word … but you and Duncan were both victims. To hear you tell it, it sounds like under normal circumstances, it's not something you would have done, you know, consciously … consensually."

I looked up at him. "You're not wrong."

"So I'll ask again: what do you need me to do?"

"Right now? Hold me. After that, just treat me better than those idiots."

"Not setting the bar very high there, V."

He put his arms around me. We leaned back into the cushions. Periodically, he would kiss the top of my head while he rubbed circles on my back.

I fell asleep for a while, waking when he got a phone call. When he was leaving, the kiss we shared was rather chaste. My emotions were raw at the moment and I wasn't sure where my boundaries were. He seemed to understand that without me saying a word.

[

[

After the intensity of the past couple days, I decided to arrive at school just before my first class today. I didn't want to be in the halls with those people any longer than absolutely necessary.

I had been at my locker less than a minute when I heard Weevil walk up behind me. A huge smile spread across my face as he leaned against the locker next to mine.

"Good morning, beautiful." The warmth in his voice was almost as comforting as a hug would have been. "Sleep well?"

With my face turned toward the pile of books in my locker, I whispered, "I slept better when I was curled up next to you." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him grinning. "Can you meet me sometime this morning?"

"Shop? During your study hall?" he suggested.

"Shop it is."

He nodded at me and then looked down the hall. "Looks like someone needs to talk to me."

"See you soon." I resisted the urge to watch him walk away. Considering the sensations throughout my body, I was certain it would be too easy to read my expression if someone saw me watching him.

[

I used a pass (thanks to my BFF) to get out of study hall. As I walked toward the shop, my emotions became more conflicted. Happy at the thought that I would not only get to see Weevil, but I'd also get that hug I'd been craving. However, with all that had been revealed in the past few days, there were so many things running through my head. As a result, my body seemed to be experiencing (or re-experiencing) feelings I couldn't quite put my finger on, something I couldn't quite grasp.

Since I woke up this morning, I had been on the verge of tears. Can you say 'woke up' when you're not sure you actually slept?

During the last stretch of hallway, I tried to get a grip on my emotions before meeting Weevil.

I opened the door and let my eyes adjust to the dimly lit space. I heard him before I saw him – he had been sitting on the hood of a car which groaned as he slid off and began walking toward me. There was a smile on his face, but his body language showed the same concern as the previous night.

That was all it took. By the time he reached me, I fell into his arms and began to weep. Not heavy sobbing, but none the less, a much-needed emotional release.

He walked me over to a lounge area that had been created using bench seats from vintage cars as if they were couches. I shivered and he immediately removed his jacket and placed it around my shoulders. For a few minutes, we just sat there as he held me.

My breathing had steadied and he asked if I was alright now. When I didn't reply, he leaned away to look at my face. The touch of his fingers was tender as he wiped away the tears that had run down my cheeks; so were his lips as he kissed the still-damp skin. My eyes closed as I reveled in this moment, this feeling of safety and warmth. He placed kisses on each eyelid and then pressed his forehead to mine as we seemed to melt into one another.

My skin was on fire and my senses were heightened. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in him, to forget everything and everyone else in the world. Things were already intense before our lips met. But when they did, it was … I'm not even sure how to describe it. In a way, it felt like things were moving in slow motion. But also, as if things were moving so quickly that they were blurring together. It felt like I was lost in a watercolor … one that was in the process of being painted.

He let go of me just long enough to pull his shirt off over his head. Immediately, he picked up where he had left off. He laid me down on the bench below him, careful to support his weight. Things slowed for a moment, but the featherlight touches of my fingertips on his back and shoulders seemed to trigger something in him. Things intensified again – a slow and heavy intensity.

He rolled to the side, his back against the back of the bench seat. His hand stroked the side of my face as we continued to kiss – slowly, deliberately, with eyes open. His fingers traced along my jawline, down my neck and sternum until he reached the top button of my shirt. He paused briefly before proceeding to free each button from its hole, one by one. I was lost in his eyes, his kiss, his touch.

When he reached the last button, his knuckle brushed against my bellybutton, bringing me back to reality. He slid the fabric to one side until that collarbone and shoulder were exposed. That is where he began to place a line of kisses. Then, he made his way down to the swell of my breast just above the edge of my tank top.

I wanted this as much as he did. But not right now – I was still sorting through what had happened. And not like this – on a car seat, hidden in the shadows, during school.

Using one of my hands to bring his face to mine, I kissed him as I used my other hand to still his, which had been grazing along the side of my breast. As I held his gaze, I brought his hand to my lips and kissed each knuckle. He seemed to understand without my having to spell it out – I needed to stop.

He kissed my nose and then sat up. I missed the warmth of contact. Grabbing his shirt where it had landed on a nearby seat, he shook it and quickly put it back on. As soon as he did, I missed the view.

He seemed deep in thought and avoided looking at me as he got his jacket.

I cleared my throat before saying, "I know it sounds cliché, but it's not you. Please look at me, so I am sure that you understand this."

As I finished buttoning my shirt, he sat next to me, placing a hand on my knee, he said, "Look, I'm … I shouldn't have … not after everything you've been dealing with."

"It's not that I don't want this. Because I do. Just that for right now, I need …"

"Whatever you need." He said those words like Westley in The Princess Bride had repeatedly said, 'As you wish.'

What did I need? "I guess we need to set ground rules."

He waited for me to finish my thought.

"I don't know exactly where the line is. I can't predict what I may react to at any given moment 'til I get past this. But to keep it simple, let's just say: no clothing removal and uh …" I paused while trying to find a way to explain that there needed to be limits. Seeing his expression, I continued, "For now. Besides, we need to cool it at least until we tell our friends. Felix almost caught us kissing during lunch that one day. Can you imagine if he had come in here when you were half-naked?"

With a slight smirk and a laugh, all he said was, "Yeah. Alright." He stood and extended a hand, leading me to a restroom. "Even with red, puffy eyes and a tear-streaked face, I think you're beautiful. But I'm guessing you might want to freshen up before walking to your next class."

One look in the mirror and I was thankful for his thoughtfulness. I wanted to kiss him again. And again.

As if cued by my recent comment, Felix came into the shop looking for Weevil. He started talking and then caught a glimpse of my profile in front of the sink and mirror. Gesturing in my direction, he asked Weevil, "Something I should know?" When Weevil did not immediately reply, he continued, "You've been spending an awful lot of time with Blondie."

"She needed something." Seeing that Felix wanted more of an explanation than that, Weevil added, "Something happened to her. She needed … a shoulder to cry on."

"When do we go after the guy?" So soon after dealing with the Carmen and Tad situation, it would have been easy for him to jump to that conclusion.

"We don't. She wants to handle this her way. She just wanted to know someone has her back … you know, if it comes to that." Weevil glanced my way as I began to walk toward them. Turning back to Felix, he emphasized, "This … what I just said … it stays between us. Got it?"

"Got it," he answered his leader and then nodded at me.

I was glad they had been talking loudly enough for me to overhear. I was also glad that Weevil had told his friend something in the neighborhood of the truth, vague though it was. And that he had asked him to keep it to himself.

Smiling at him, I said, "Hi, Felix. He's all yours. I was just leaving." Looking at Weevil, I said, "Any chance you can drop by our office tonight?"

He nodded. "And the Sheriff?"

"Still on that case."

He nodded again, this time with a twinkle in his eye.

I had to resist the urge to kiss him. I turned to go, leaving the two of them to whatever PCH business had brought Felix looking for him.

[

I didn't see him much the rest of the day, though he did drop by briefly during lunch.

Leaning against the table, he said, "Earlier, we got … interrupted. Just checking that … uh, we're cool."

It amused me that he was being vague because Wallace was sitting with me. "Yeah. We're cool." I smiled up at him.

He nodded and looked off in the distance as he asked, "So … later, then?"

"Yeah. Later," I said as he began to leave.

Wallace shook his head and laughed. "You guys just did a whole thing right in front of me and I have no idea what just went down."

"Just a little mutual backscratching. Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about."

"This is one of those 'need to know' things?"

"Yep. And I promise to tell you all about it … when you need to know."

[

Knowing that there would be messages on the machine and filing to catch up on, I went straight to the office after school. Weevil had texted when he was finished at work. While I waited for him to arrive, I tried to focus, but the letters and numbers on the screen of my laptop kept swimming around.

I was in the kitchen getting a cup of coffee when I heard a knock on the door. Dad had asked me to keep it locked if I was here by myself. I peeked around the corner just as Weevil said, "Hey, V, it's me. You in there?"

After unlocking the door, I indicated my mug. "I was just getting some coffee. You want some?"

"No, thanks." Weevil sat across from me at the desk. "You ask me here for business or …?"

I tilted my head and smiled at him. "Tonight, business. Well, mostly business."

I pulled out the notes that Dad had written down from his meeting with the new client and a few things I had located this evening. Then, I began to explain.

"Short version, I need your help with something."

"Figured as much."

"The thing is … it's related to a case we just got. And I can't tell you everything – client confidentiality and all. Dad asked me to do some basic background while he's gone, but he's had so many other things … well, I'm hoping I can dig a little deeper before he gets back."

"Okay, how do I fit into this?"

I glanced over Dad's notes, trying to decide what I should tell him – or rather, how much I could tell him.

The clients were parents of a young woman, Angela Roman, who had been missing for two years. At the time of her disappearance, she was a junior at Hearst College and had just had a bad breakup with her boyfriend. The FBI had looked into it, because there were several missing person cases with similarities – girls from colleges throughout the United States. Technically speaking, they solved the case, but Angela had not been found. The others were victims of human trafficking who were found when a local establishment was busted for offering services that could not legally be listed on the menu, but were offered in rooms above the bar.

Other than that, all we had was a list of names Angela's parents gave my Dad – close friends, roommate, etc. He really just wanted me to do the standard background research I could do on my computer and maybe interview a few of her friends. Her female friends might be more willing to open up to me rather than him. I had tracked down contact info for most of them while I waited for Weevil to get here.

The more I thought about the case, something wasn't sitting right with me. I couldn't shake the feeling that the FBI had been too quick to say that her case was linked with the others and had overlooked something. The one thing I knew for sure: if her disappearance was connected to illegal activity in the Neptune area, then the gang leader across the desk from me was a logical source of info.

I had been able to get in touch with one of Angela's friends tonight. Vicki told me that after the breakup, they had gone to an upscale club that is no longer in business. There was a guy named Gil hitting on Angela all night. Vicki said something about him seemed off. He flashed a lot of cash, but he didn't feel like a typical 09er or 'old money' (by the way she said it, it sounded like Vicki was). She didn't want to make assumptions about the source of his money, but she remembered wondering at the time if he might be into drugs or something else illegal. I took a chance and asked if she had taken any photos that night. Good news for me – she not only had photos, but was willing to send them to me.

Staring at a photo that clearly showed the guy's face, I was planning to forward it on to Weevil, but had yet to follow through.

"V, I can hear the gears in your head. You gonna let me in on whatever this is?"

"Sorry. Lost in thought, obviously. About two years ago, a female student at Hearst went missing. FBI pretty much gave up on the case. Her parents decided my Dad might be their best chance at finding her – since he's local ... and former law enforcement, but an investigator paid directly by them."

"Still waiting for how this involves me."

"I'm doing preliminary research, but …"

"Is this the part where I talk you out of doing something dangerous?"

I pulled a face at him. "This is the part where I ask if you can find out who this guy is." I gestured at his phone as the picture arrived in his inbox.

He opened the photo and examined the face.

"Can you check around for me? Without drawing undue attention?"

"V, when have you known me to be anything but subtle?"

"I'm going to assume that was a rhetorical question." Finally noticing that he had brought a textbook with him, I pointed at it and asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"Maybe. Mostly, I just brought it along to have something to do while you worked."

A smile spread across my face. "I do have some filing to do. You want to work here at the desk or the couch?"

"Coffee table's fine." He grabbed a sharpened pencil from the cup on my desk. "Got any paper?"

Shaking my head, I handed him a tablet. "At least you brought the book."

After about twenty minutes of filing in near silence, I turned to look at him – seeing him leaned over the table with a look of concentration on his face. His phone buzzed. As he opened his phone, he caught me watching him. He smiled. I smiled. Then, he looked down at the screen and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"I gotta go. Can you look this over?" He handed me the tablet.

I flipped through several pages of his writing. "You got a lot done."

"Starting to make sense, I guess." He shrugged.

"You want to wait while I check this or …?"

"Can you bring it tomorrow? I gotta meet Felix."

"Sure. I'll text you if there's anything we need to go over before school."

"Thanks, V." He gave me a quick peck on the cheek, pulled on his jacket, closed his book, and returned the pencil to the cup. Then, just before he headed for the door, he paused to give me a proper goodbye kiss. "Goodnight, beautiful."

When he left, I sat down at my desk to look over his math homework. He had checked the answers against the key in the back – for the most part, they matched. That meant I was mostly checking to make sure he had shown his work the way the teacher wanted it. Other than a couple inverted numbers and the occasional misplaced decimal point, it looked good. I made notes on a separate piece of paper so he could make changes in his own handwriting.

I waited until I got home to text him I didn't think we'd need to meet before school – well, not for math tutoring anyway.

[

[

Standing at my locker, my body was on high alert knowing that Weevil would be dropping by for our morning visit. I had removed his homework from the tablet and folded it with my notes about the changes to make. I knew that he would drop by for that. And probably to arrange a time to see me later. I was already running through my schedule in my head, wanting to clear as much time as possible.

While I was daydreaming about how we could use our available free time, he appeared next to me with a paper bag in his hands. In truth, I smelled the contents of the bag before I saw him.

My mouth watered as I asked, "Whatcha got there?"

"I can't fool my grandma. She says she knows I'm seeing someone. Says I look happy. She made churros last night. She set these aside and told me to take 'em to my girl. I think she's hoping it will entice you to come to dinner sometime." Reacting to me biting my lips to hide a grin, he said, "Yes, consider that an open invitation. Not like you haven't met. She already likes you … you know that, right? Not that I told her it was you."

I looked in the bag and inhaled deeply. "Mmm. Smells delicious."

"When will I see you? You know, for more than five minutes hiding in the shadows."

"Working this case for Dad, I'm slammed right now, but should have time this weekend." Seeing that he wanted something more definitive, I added, "I've got stuff to do tomorrow. How about Sunday?"

He nodded. "Nothing on that photo yet. Let me know if you need anything else?"

He had phrased it like a question, but his raised eyebrows and pointed look told me it wasn't a casual request. He had slipped back into the role of my protector.

I handed him the homework papers. "My notes are on the top sheet so you can make the changes. There aren't many."

"Thanks." Just before he walked away, he said, "Call you later."

I nodded. "I'll be in and out of the office this evening, but yeah, call later."

After he walked away, I opened the bag and broke off a bite-sized piece to taste. It was as delicious as it smelled.

I did not even notice that Wallace had walked up to me. "Veronica, why exactly are you moaning in a public place?"

I finished chewing and swallowed in order to answer him. "I was eating the most amazing sweet treat."

"I saw you talking to Weevil just now. What was that about?"

"Actually, he was dropping off this bag of delectable goodness … as a thank you for some help I gave him with his homework." Even as I bent the truth, I felt guilty for being less than completely honest with my best friend. Again.

"On his resume under special skills, does it say 'pastry chef' just below 'duct tape master' – or did he steal them for you?"

Glaring at him, I replied, "His grandmother made them. He promised her that he would graduate. I guess she's happy that he's putting some effort into his school work."

As Wallace and I walked to our first class, we passed by the cluster of PCHers in the hall. Weevil and I made eye contact. That was all it took to make my temperature rise. It made me wonder: how much longer would we be able to keep this a secret?

[

During free time at school, I got all my homework done, so that I could use this afternoon and the rest of the weekend on this missing person case. Well, I did promise Weevil some time on Sunday which meant I would need to be extra efficient today and tomorrow.

After school, the first thing on my to-do list was going home to walk Backup. My second stop was Hearst College to talk to another one of Angela's friends, Cailyn, who was a fifth-year senior. She was able to fill in some more info about Gil. She thought his last name might be Harrison, but she was certain that Gil had asked Angela to go away with him for a weekend. It wasn't something she'd normally do, but after the bad breakup she had with her boyfriend, she was a bit more wild and reckless. Cailyn said she wouldn't have been surprised if Angela had gone with him. I asked if it was possible that Angela ran off with Gil. Cailyn's response was that as crazy as Angela was acting, she might have skipped out on the rest of that semester, but she would have come back to finish her degree.

My conversation with Cailyn got me thinking. I wondered if Angela had gone away with Gil by choice and then something bad happened to her or both of them. Or did Gil lure her into the trip with less than noble intentions? Or maybe Gil had nothing at all to do with her disappearance.

While I was on the Hearst campus, I tracked down one other friend from the list Angela's parents gave my Dad. His name was Theo and was actually better friends with Angela's ex, Rob. He had known Rob since they were kids. Although both Angela and Rob were pretty upset when they broke up, Theo was certain that Rob had nothing to do with Angela's disappearance. (Plus, his alibi was considered solid during the original FBI investigation.) Other than that, he was able to confirm Gil's last name was Harrison. He also remembered hearing Angela's friends gossiping about the planned weekend getaway. He, like everyone else, was unsure whether or not Angela had indeed gone away with Gil.

Everyone else on the list had graduated and moved away. I would have to try to call them tomorrow in between more internet research. At least now I had a name to go with the photo – assuming that Gil Harrison was his real name.

[

When I got home, I pulled leftovers out of the fridge and popped the container into the microwave. While I waited, I texted Weevil: finally home, eating dinner. I didn't get a reply – well, not exactly. But less than a minute later, my phone rang.

I answered, "Hey there," with a smile on my face, but my tiredness apparent in my voice.

"Long day?"

"Yeah, but semi-productive. More to do tomorrow. But I'm gonna need a good night's sleep before diving in."

"Just another boring Friday night at home?" Weevil asked.

"Well, if reheated leftovers and walking Backup qualifies as boring, then yeah. Why? What exciting plans do you have?"

"Putting in some extra hours at work. Doing inventory for my uncle."

"Is that your way of saying that you're trying to figure out how they're stealing from your uncle?"

"You might just have a future as an investigator. By the way, I don't have much of anything on that photo yet."

"I got a name to go with the picture, but it could be an alias. Gil Harrison."

"Alright, I'll keep checking. Gotta go."

[

[

When Dad was out of town for more than a day, Backup seemed to need extra love. This usually meant that he would try to climb into bed with me, but would settle for curling up next to my bed. Sure enough, as my feet went down over the side of my bed this Saturday morning, they landed on my furry friend.

The morning was pretty leisurely – breakfast, shower, walking Backup, catching up on news. It was almost noon when I sat down with my laptop to dig up dirt on Gil Harrison and see what else I could find about Angela's disappearance. I didn't want to take the time for lunch, but I was hungry. I took a minute to grab a couple of cheese sticks from the fridge and a bag of pretzels from the cabinet. That would have to do for now.

After spending a few hours intently focused on research by phone and internet, I had only succeeded in confirming the basics of the FBI case: the other girls, the bust at the club, prostitution ring run out of upstairs. The only info publicly available about Angela amounted to a few articles from when she first went missing. When she was not found at the club, the FBI had no further leads and the case went cold.

There was not much on Gil Harrison, though he did have a California driver's license. As sparse as his records were, it could be an alias, but then again, that could be my cynicism talking.

The only new info my digging turned up was about the club where the missing girls were found. Less than a year after the place was busted for prostitution, there was a drug bust. From what I could find, it was never proven that the drugs were connected to the owners, but they were being sold on the property. The name of the club had changed since then and the corporation name on the paperwork was different – which could mean new management, but not necessarily. It could be the same people operating under a different name or a shell corporation. The point was that there was still a bar in operation at that address.

Guess I knew what my plans were for the night. I went through my closet to choose my wardrobe: boots, miniskirt, camisole top. It would take me close to an hour to do my hair and makeup to match the outfit. Maybe I could recreate the look Meg had given me for the Valentine's dance.

I decided to eat dinner before getting dressed. While I was eating, I did a little more research. When I tracked the new corporation name attached to the club it led me down a long rabbit trail, but there seemed to be a connection between the club owners and a local crime family with the last name Fitzpatrick. If Dad were here, I was certain that he would know all about them and what they were connected to. I briefly thought about calling Leo, but decided not to ask him for any unnecessary favors – I could wait to ask Dad.

When I was getting ready, I had an inkling that maybe this wasn't something I should take on alone. But I convinced myself that I was just gonna go and have a look around. I wouldn't do any snooping or anything dangerous. Obviously, I would leave all that to Dad when he got home.

As I locked the apartment door and headed to my car, I was confident in my ability to handle the situation. Thankfully, my protector was on duty this particular night. Because this was not something I should have tried to handle on my own.


A/N:

The portion at the end of Chapter 1 (when he meets up with her at the club) fits here in the timeline. Chapter 10 will pick up where Chapter 1 left off.

I borrowed the phrase "Aristotelian confluence of events" from Aaron Sorkin (The West Wing #4.8 "Process Stories").

Thanks again for reading! Until next time ...

~Jen

3 March 2017