by Rob Thomas
“Nice,” Lianne spat. “Nice way to talk to your son.”
Tanner stood for a moment, face rigid. Then all at once, he seemed to deflate.
“I just want my baby back.” His mouth writhed as he fought tears. “Lianne, I just want Aurora back. I’ll do anything. I’ll flush the fucking money down the toilet if that’s what it takes. I know the ransom is probably a grift. But what if it’s not? What if it’s our chance to get her back?”
Jackson cleared his throat. He moved slowly, almost leisurely from his position by the window to the kitchen counter. Today he wore a navy blue suit with thin, precise pinstripes, his tie a somewhat flashy lime green.
“Let me interject a minute here. Mrs. Scott is right—it’s not a good idea to hand over the money without any substantive proof of life. If Aurora’s ransom letter is genuine—if someone is holding her hostage—they’ll have seen the news about Hayley, and they’ll know they have to follow up with us to convince us they really do have Aurora. They’ll want to make sure we know that at least one of their claims is genuine. So I think we can safely wait.” He patted Tanner on the back. “I’ll put the duffel bag in the safe at the Neptune Grand—we’ll have it primed and ready to go if we need it.”
Lianne glanced from Jackson to Veronica. “What do you think, Veronica?”
“Seems sound,” she said. Privately, she suspected Jackson was indulging Tanner. It didn’t seem likely they’d hear from the supposed kidnappers again. It was too risky now to make contact.
Tanner shook his head. “I don’t want it to be out of my reach. What if they want it right away? What if those minutes I spend tracking your ass down tomorrow are minutes that matter?”
“Tanner!” Lianne hissed, glancing at Jackson. But the specialist just smiled.
“It’s all right, Mrs. Scott. Tempers run high at times like this.” He addressed Tanner. “I’m on call day and night until we reach some kind of resolution, Mr. Scott. If you need that money, I’ll have it to you in no time. But I don’t think it’s wise to leave it sitting here on the coffee table.”
“He’s right, Tanner.” Lianne looked relieved. She rested her hand on Tanner’s arm, suddenly gentle with him again. “Please, babe. Let him take it.”
Tanner stared at Jackson for a moment. Veronica noticed that the maracas were still clenched in his fists, forgotten. After a few seconds ticked by, he nodded grudgingly.
“Fine,” he said. “Fine, take it.”
Jackson gave a genteel nod. He went to the table and zipped the duffel, then picked up the strap with one hand. “I’ll keep it secure. Call me if anything at all changes.”
No one saw him to the door.
Veronica sipped her coffee and checked her watch. She needed to get home soon. Her dad was probably by the door, waiting. Lianne and Tanner both seemed exhausted. She wondered vaguely how desperate either of them was for a drink. She wondered if either of them had cracked in the week since Aurora had gone missing.
She was rinsing out her coffee mug when the doorbell rang. Lianne frowned, glancing toward the entry hall. “Maybe Jackson forgot something.” She left to answer the door. Veronica went back to the living room and picked up her purse. Tanner had resettled into the same white leather chair.
“I’m going home for a change of clothes, and then I’ll be in the office for the rest of the night. Call me right away if you hear anything. I’m going to start looking further back in Aurora’s e-mail and phone records. Just in case there’s something we missed.” She hesitated, then she put a hand on Tanner’s shoulder. “We’ll find her, Tanner. One way or another.”
He reached up and squeezed her fingers, blinking away tears.
Lianne came back into the living room, trailed by Adrian. He wore a Hearst College warm-up jacket over a snug T-shirt that hugged his muscles. He looked pale beneath his gelled shock of hair. Lianne seemed nervous, her eyes flitting every which way without quite meeting anyone else’s.
“Adrian says he has something important to tell us,” she said, leaning tiredly against the mantel. Tanner looked up.
“What is it?”
Adrian shifted his weight. His finger played absently with the zipper on his track jacket. He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to choke. He swallowed and tried again.
“The thing is,” he said. “The thing is …”
“What is it, Adrian?” Lianne barely moved her lips to ask the question.
He looked up then, not at Tanner or at Lianne but straight at Veronica.
“The thing is … I know where Rory went.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Tanner’s voice exploded in the still and silent room. The maracas clattered to the floor as he shot to his feet. Adrian held Veronica’s gaze for another moment, then dropped his eyes, a light flush creeping up his neck.
“I swore I wouldn’t tell, but everything’s gotten so crazy. And I saw that other girl on the news, and now …” He gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke, his voice fast and high-pitched. “Rory came out here to meet with a guy. I don’t know who he is—she wouldn’t tell me. But I guess she was pretty sure you wouldn’t like him.”
Lianne stared incredulously at him. “What are you saying, Adrian? Aurora’s with … with a boy?”
He pursed his lips. “I’m not sure ‘boy’ is the right word. I got the feeling he was … older.”
Lianne gaped at him. But Tanner was shaking his head.
“There’s no way. She wouldn’t do this to me. There’s no way!”
Veronica took Adrian by the arm and walked him, not particularly gently, to the glass table in the dining area. She pulled out a chair. “Sit.”
He did.
Behind them, Tanner was staring at Adrian so hard his eyes bulged. His expression was somewhere between shock, horror, and fury. Lianne’s eyes darted between Tanner and Adrian for a moment. She went into the kitchen with forced calm and came back with a few bottles of water.
“Start at the beginning,” Veronica said as Lianne set the bottles on the table. “Did you and Aurora have some kind of plan before she came to visit?”
Adrian shifted in his seat. “I wasn’t exactly included in the plan. As far as I knew, she was coming out here to see me, but as soon as she got off the bus she was hinting about some guy she planned to meet up with. I didn’t get a lot of details.”
“But she came out here to meet up with him? Does he live in Neptune?”
He shook his head. “No, I think they just arranged to meet here. She knew her parents would let her come to see me.” He looked down at the tabletop. “And she knew I’d help her.”
Lianne looked like she was about to cry. “Adrian.” The word was a simple, sorrowful admonishment. His shoulders hunched around his ears.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Scott. Mr. Scott. I know I should have told you. But everything got sort of … out of control. And I didn’t know what to do.” He glanced up. “Rory’s my best friend. I mean, we’ve been through hell together. She was one of the few people in the world who had my back in high school. I owe her everything—and she asked me for a favor.” He gave a lame shrug. “So I helped her.”
“So you didn’t meet this boyfriend? Or see him? Why wouldn’t she at least introduce you, if you’re her most trusted friend?” Veronica put both her hands on the table and leaned across it.
He smiled slightly. “Rory likes mystery—she thinks it makes her interesting. And honestly, I didn’t ask. She’s always trying to get me to act shocked or impressed—she loves creating drama. But I get tired of being her sidekick. Sometimes I just refuse to play the game. It really pisses her off.” He opened the water bottle in front of him, taking a small sip.
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“That part’s the same as what I told the police. She arrived Monday afternoon on the bus. I picked her up, we went to the beach and checked out cute boys. That night she told me she didn’t plan to go
back to Tucson. She said she’d met a guy, that she was crazy in love, and that her parents wouldn’t approve. She said he was picking her up Wednesday night. She begged me not to tell anyone. I told her she was being stupid. But you know Rory. She’s kind of … impulsive.” This last bit he said to Lianne, almost as if it were an apology. “So Wednesday we went to that party together. Sort of a last hurrah, I guess. Around about two a.m. she gave me a hug and a kiss and told me her ride was there and she’d see me sometime.”
For a moment, the only sound was the careless tick of the wall clock over the fireplace. Tanner stood at the window where Jackson had been a few moments before, staring out at the lush balcony, with its jewel-colored plants and heavy furniture. He seemed to be absorbing the information, his hands dangling unsure at his sides. Lianne leaned against the kitchen island.
“Mom? Tanner? I know you told me there’s been some power struggles between you and Aurora in the past few years.” She kept her voice carefully neutral. “Was there anything recently that made you feel like she was angry again? Did you ground her or punish her at all in the past few weeks?”
Tanner closed his eyes, but it was Lianne who answered.
“We almost didn’t let her go.” Her voice was a whisper, low and husky. “She had a week where she kept coming home past curfew. Way past curfew. And she skipped a few days of school. When she brought up the idea of visiting Hearst we almost told her no. Tanner was afraid she was getting wild on us again, that she’d gotten in with a bad crowd. But I thought a visit with Adrian would help. I talked Tanner into saying yes because I thought … I thought it’d stabilize her.”
Adrian was staring down at the table as if he wanted to crawl under it. Veronica almost felt sorry for him. Letting a missing person search mount when he knew perfectly well where Aurora was? Pretty shitty thing to do. But the more she heard about Aurora Scott, the more she reminded her of Lilly Kane—wild, warmhearted, and sometimes manipulative. And, once upon a time, Veronica would have done almost anything for Lilly.
“Do you have any means of contacting her? Is she answering texts, e-mails?” Veronica asked, turning back to Adrian.
“She hasn’t replied to any of my texts so far,” Adrian said, biting down on the corner of his lip. “It sounded like they were heading off the grid or something. She kept talking about a cabin. She said Oregon at first, then mentioned Idaho. I don’t think she really knew herself. I tried to let her know that everyone was going crazy looking for her, but she might be somewhere she doesn’t have service.” He shook his head. “She didn’t even think about the fact that the other girl was missing. I guess I didn’t either.”
“Did she have some kind of plan for how this would end?” Lianne asked, her voice hoarse. “Is she coming back? Is she trying to … to disappear?”
“I don’t know, Mrs. Scott.” Adrian finally looked up from where he sat, absently tracing the bubbles in the glass tabletop. Tears ran down his cheeks now. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could go back in time and change this. I wish I’d told you where she was from the get-go.”
Hesitantly, her own lips trembling, Lianne stepped toward him. She patted his back gently. “Shhh. Shhhhh.”
Tanner exhaled then, a hard stream of air all at once.
“I’m going to kill her,” he growled. “That spoiled fucking brat. I’ll kill her.”
Veronica’s eyes darted toward him. His usually dun-colored face was red, his shoulders clenched. For the first time, the charming, affable blarney was gone, and Veronica could see a version of Tanner that might lead a free-spirited daughter to run away.
Lianne gave him a shocked look. “Don’t say that. Not after what we thought had happened to her. Don’t even joke about it.”
“God damn it, Lianne, she’s has broken your heart time and time again. I’m tired of it. She didn’t even stop to think what this would do to us. Or worse … she didn’t care.” He shook his head, ran his fingers through his hair, and left it sticking up in patches. “It’s my fault, though. It’s my fault for what I put her through, back in the bad old days.”
“Don’t say that, Tanner. Please, don’t say that.”
“I think I need to find a meeting tonight.” Tanner stood there for another long moment, staring angrily at Adrian. Then he turned on his heel and went into the hall to the bedrooms. A moment later they heard a door slam.
The sound echoed through the living room. Lianne stared after him for a long moment before she turned back to Veronica.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “None of us slept last night. We’re all just so tired.” She shook her head as if trying to clear it. Then a sudden, tremulous smile broke across her face. She gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “But this is good news, right? I mean … this means she’s alive. She’s out there, somewhere, and we just have to find her.”
Veronica didn’t answer right away. She picked up her bag from where it slouched on the side table and stood, watching as her mother patted Adrian’s back.
“I should go,” she said. “I’ll check in with you guys tomorrow, okay? Give me a call if you find out anything else.”
Her thoughts raced as she let herself out. The truth was, she didn’t know what it all meant—but for now, she had to get home. Keith would be waiting, worried. And she was ready to change out of yesterday’s clothes and catch her breath.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“So does that mean we’re off the case?”
Mac kicked the fridge door shut and headed into the living room, beer bottles in hand.
It was an hour later, and Veronica, Mac, and Wallace sat in Mac’s apartment. For the first night in what felt like forever, none of Veronica’s clients were in actual physical peril. That seemed reason enough to take the night off.
They’d decided to spend the evening in—most of their haunts weren’t exactly spring break central, but even so no one felt like facing the crowds. Veronica had done a beer run, Wallace brought tacos, and Mac manifested a batch of organic salsa and tortilla chips. The Alabama Shakes wailed on the stereo. Veronica curled her legs up under her on the couch and took a sip of beer.
“I don’t know. I’m guessing as far as Petra Landros is concerned, the job is done. Hayley Dewalt’s murder is resolved, and it’s hard to imagine she’s going to pay me to try to track down a juvenile delinquent who’s run off with a boy her dad won’t like.”
“That’s pretty messed up.” Wallace shook his head. “I mean, she had to know there’d be some kind of search, right? She just let everyone worry about her.”
“I get the feeling ‘impulse control’ isn’t high on the list of Aurora Scott’s better qualities.” Veronica shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know if she even thought that far ahead.”
“I did a little accounting on your behalf today,” Mac said. “With the reward money and your hourly we might even be able to convince the power company to stop sending threatening notes.”
“You calculated your paycheck in there too, right?”
“Veronica.” Mac gave her an oh-please kind of look. “Of course.”
They clinked their beer bottles together.
“So this is the last week of spring break?” Veronica asked, looking at Wallace.
“Yeah, this is it.” He sighed. “And then it’s back to work for Mr. Fennel. Back to an office that smells like dirty socks. Even better, next week my health class is starting on sex ed.”
“Come on, Fennel. If there’s anything you know about, it’s sex ed.” Veronica nudged him.
He grimaced. “You have no idea. Trying to get a bunch of sophomores to let me get away with saying ‘shaft’ without giggling …”
“I hear he’s a bad mother,” Mac said.
Veronica didn’t miss a beat. “Shut yo’ mouth!”
“I’m just talking about—”
“You two are a laugh a minute, you know that?”
Suddenly Veronica heard her phone, trilling at the bottom of her bag from where it hung on a hook by the door. S
he got up, Mac and Wallace still mock bickering behind her. The caller ID read UNKNOWN.
“Hello?” As she answered, she cracked open the door to the apartment and stepped out into the hallway, which smelled like cabbage and industrial-strength cleaner.
“Hi, is this Veronica Mars?”
The voice was female, throaty, and a little hoarse, not someone she recognized.
“Yes, it is. Who’s this, please?”
“This is Lee Jackson from the Meridian Group. I’m returning your call.”
The phone almost fell right out of Veronica’s hand.
“Ms. Mars? Still there? Hello?”
Even taking the sketchiest back roads she knew, it took Veronica almost twenty minutes to get to the Neptune Grand. She’d never been prone to road rage, but she laid on the horn as slow-moving packs of drunken students staggered out into the road ahead of her. They gave her offended, unfocused looks. A wobbly blonde with bundles of Mardi Gras beads dangling around her neck slapped her palm on the hood of the BMW, and for just a split second Veronica imagined running her over.
Back at Mac’s she’d asked Lee Jackson if she could call her back. Then she’d stuck her head in the apartment to tell Wallace and Mac she had to go. Their faces barely had a chance to register surprise before she’d slammed the door shut behind her. There’d be time to explain later. Now she had to find the “Lee Jackson” who currently had $600,000 in unmarked, nonsequential bills in an easy-to-transport nylon duffel bag.
The closer she got to the Grand, the worse the traffic got. Downtown was a snarl of cars and pedestrians. Tenth Avenue was completely shut down for a concert; she could see the lights flashing on the distant stage. People swarmed around the bars, and the souvenir shops were all open late for last-minute purchases. At the ’09er, a long line of glittering hopefuls hung back behind the velvet ropes, waiting for entry.
She caught sight of the Grand from a few streets away, its new tall glass tower stretching over the old sandstone façade. She waited impatiently for a light to turn, then roared through the intersection.