Veronica Mars

Veronica grabbed the stack of flyers off the copier and held one up. She’d arranged two pictures of Hayley on the page, both of them from the night Hayley went missing. One showed her on the dance floor, her hair suspended in midair as she moved. The other showed her curled up on a couch with the handsome stranger. Instead of the tip line, she’d put the number of one of Mars Investigations’ dedicated phone lines across the flyer.

 

“I need you guys to hit the pavement for me. Put these up on lampposts, hand them out on the boardwalk, see if you can get them in shop windows. Especially in places where there are lots of spring breakers.”

 

They both took stacks of flyers from her, their eyes darting over the pictures. They exchanged glances, and then T.J. looked up with an earnest and helpful expression on his face.

 

“Do you need us to interview people too? We can ask around, see if anyone wants to talk to us. You know, on the beach?”

 

Veronica gave him a piercing look before she answered. “You have my permission to talk to any bikini babe you want, as long as you get the flyers circulating.”

 

“And as long as you are perfect gentlemen who do not make your coach or your team look bad,” interjected Wallace pointedly. “Because your next not-detention isn’t going to be this easy. Got it?”

 

T.J. looked insulted. “Hey, I don’t need lessons on how to respect the ladies. I respect all the ladies. Skinny ones, medium ones—”

 

“Boys.” Veronica clapped her hands. “Let’s focus here. I need these to get out as quickly as possible. As an added incentive, if I do find Hayley, I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”

 

Both boys looked suddenly alert.

 

“Each?” asked T.J.

 

“Each,” said Veronica. “So make sure you get these flyers posted in as many places as you can. This will only work if they get seen.”

 

T.J. and Quinton turned to each other, strategizing in low voices—deciding where they could get the most flyers seen by the most people, versus where the hottest and least-dressed girls hung out. It seemed to be mostly T.J. doing the strategizing, with Quinton muttering “Yeah, yeah” every few seconds. Veronica turned to Wallace.

 

“Thanks,” she said, handing him another pile. “You’re a lifesaver.”

 

“Can’t say I planned to spend my spring break supervising teenagers,” he said under his breath. “You owe me, Mars.”

 

“Just add it to my tab.”

 

He grinned. “So what are you guys doing tonight? Want to go get a few beers?”

 

“Tempting,” Mac said. “But I thought I’d stab my eyes out with a spoon instead.”

 

“Come on, it’s not nearly as crazy out there as it was last year.” He looked from her to Veronica. “If I’m going to be wrangling these kids all day, I’m going to need a little R and R, you know what I mean?”

 

An idea suddenly came to Veronica. A slow, thoughtful smile spread over her face. Wallace’s eyes widened, and he leaned back a little.

 

“It scares me when you smile like that.”

 

“Scares you? Wallace, come on. Don’t you trust me?”

 

“Are you looking for the honest answer or the one where we stay on speaking terms?”

 

“All right, fine.” She lifted up her hands in mock surrender. “I thought you were looking for some R and R, but if you don’t want an invite to the party of the season, I can’t make you go with me.”

 

He gave her a wary look. “Party of the season?”

 

“Party of the century, if the stories are to be believed.”

 

“Uh-huh. Veronica Mars, social butterfly? No one’s buying it. So what’s the catch?”

 

“No catch.” She looped her arm through his. “But if we’re lucky, we may just score some information on what happened to Hayley Dewalt.”

 

 

 

 

Rob Thomas's books