A/N: So, here's the final chapter. Italics are back to representing Veronica's voiceovers. I'd just like to say thanks again to everyone who's reviewed this story, and I'm glad you all seemed to have liked it. I hope you enjoy the conclusion.

Diane Jaffee walked back into the room where ADA Simmons was waiting with Sheriff Lamb, Sergeant Peters, and Detectives Baker, Finneran, and Montez.

"Well?" asked Simmons.

"She lied in response to some of the initial calibration questions—"

"I could've told you that," interrupted Lamb.

"But that's normal," continued Jaffee curtly. "She passed the rest of the test with flying colors. She's telling the truth."

"So it's your assessment that this was a righteous shooting?"

"No question."

"Tell me you're not taking this seriously."

"Do you have a problem, Lamb?" asked Jaffee.

"Yeah, I have a problem. Are any of you seriously buying that she just happened to show up just when Echolls did? She had that place staked out! She went alone so there'd be no witnesses."

"We canvassed the neighborhood," interjected Baker. "No one recalled seeing her car parked outside before 6:00."

"No one was looking! And who would have noticed an Accord anyway? Why do you think she took such a nondescript car?"

"What difference would that make?" shot back Baker. "The key fact is that Echolls pulled a gun on her."

"That's what she says."

"That what the polygraph says," replied Jaffee, no longer even bothering to conceal the edge in her voice.

"And I'm telling you, that girl lies like she breathes. She could beat a polygraph easily."

"Look," said Peters with a smile, "I'm sure that by the standards of the Balboa Sheriff's Department, she's a hardened criminal, but—"

"Hey, I may not be the almighty LAPD, but at least I know a drop piece when I see one. Come to think of it, I would think the LAPD would too."

"Why don't you go—"

"Enough!" barked Simmons. "Look, Baker, didn't you say that the neighbors said they heard a girl's voice yell 'drop it,' like she says she said?"

"Are you kidding? Even Leclerc confirmed that. Says it's what brought him to the door in the first place, even before the gunshots."

"I'm sure she did yell that," said Lamb. "She wanted everyone to hear her yell that."

"Look," said Simmons. "Let me get this straight. You're saying that she drove to L.A., staked out Leclerc's office, waited for Echolls to show, chased him into the alley, shouted for him to drop a gun he didn't have so that any witnesses would hear her say that, then shot him four times in cold blood, and then planted a gun in his hand. And then beat a polygraph. Is that it?"

"That's it."

"Okay, let's say I believed you, which right now I don't. I'd still have to persuade a jury that this girl is a cold-blooded killer. Do you have any actual evidence that I might use?"

"Trace the gun. You find out where that nine came from, you'll find out whether it was bought by a six-foot man or a five-foot girl."

"Good luck," said Montez. "The lab's had no luck raising the serial numbers, and someone took a wire or something to the inside of the barrel, so the ballistics have been altered. There's no match to anything in the system."

"Then that's that. I'm going to recommend to the D.A. that we not pursue this matter any further."

"Listen to me," anwered Lamb, desperation audible in his voice. "You don't know about this case. Look, she had plenty of reasons to hate this guy, after everything he did to her, but—"

"I read the papers. You've got plenty of reason to hate her, or her father at any rate. He humiliated you by solving it after you'd put Jake Kane's fall guy on death row. Is this just about getting back at your old boss?"

"You just know what was on TV. Keith Mars wasn't the one who solved this case—"

"Right, sure. You're the misunderstood hero."

"What? No—"

"This conversation is over. I need to go call my office."

When the door opened and Lamb came in, Veronica looked up and gave him her least sincere smile. "Why, Deputy Lamb, how nice to see you again."

"Hey kid. So the L.A. county D.A. has decided not to press charges. Congratulations, you've got them all convinced."

"How frustrating for you."

"Look, kid. I can't say I blame you. Someone did to me what Aaron Echolls did to you, I'd want to kill him too. And I wouldn't be above leaving a drop piece in his hand."

"Wow. You sound really twisted Lamb. You probably shouldn't be in law enforcement."

"Here's the thing, though, kid. It gets easier. You'll probably have trouble sleeping tonight. Probably see him begging for his life. But the dreams'll go away. And the next time, and the time after that, there won't even be any nightmares. Hell of a thing, to kill a man."

"Yeah, I saw Unforgiven too. I love Eastwood's work. If I'm not being charged, can I go now?"

"Sure kid. Your Dad's waiting outside to take you home. Your boyfriend's waiting with him. I wonder how he'll feel about all this."

"Your concern for my romantic life is touching, if creepy" shot back Veronica as she got up and headed for the door.

"I wasn't talking about Logan. I'll be seeing you kid."

"Not if I see you first."

When Veronica got outside, Logan rushed up and hugged her tightly. "Are you alright?" he whispered in her ear.

"I'm fine sweetheart. Are you alright?" she whispered back.

"I wish I could've been the one to do it, but otherwise this is my best Thanksgiving ever."

"I'm glad," she said, smiling up at him.

"Look, your dad's going to drive you home, but I'll call you as soon as I get in, okay? And thank you."

Veronica walked over to her father, waiting by his car. The embraced gently. "Dad, I—"

"We'll talk about this later, honey. Let's just get in the car," said Keith.

Once they were on their way back to Neptune, Veronica tried again. "Look, Dad," she began.

"Veronica." His voice was tense. "In all my years as a cop, and as a private detective, I've never fired a gun in anger."

"I know."

"Most cops go their entire careers without even drawing their guns in anger." His voice was breaking.

"I know, Dad."

"We're never going to talk about this again. You're going to have to live with what you did." Keith was clearly fighting back tears at this point.

"I'm sorry Daddy." Veronica's voice was barely a whisper, and she wasn't fighting the tears.

As they drove the rest of the way home in silence, Veronica stared out the window, unable to look at her father.

So here's one of those classic riddles for you. A frightened, desperate man runs down an alley trying to escape a gun-toting killer. He comes to a dead end, turns, and surrenders. She murders him in cold blood. So the riddle is, how does she sleep that night? The answer? That's easy. She thinks of the scar tissue all over her father's body, and those little round scars on her boyfriend's arms, and her best friend's blood seeping out from a wound that will never scar. Then she shuts her eyes and sleeps like the righteous.

The End.