They finally got into the hallway, where another mob surrounded Veronica Mason. Now that the fear of prison was gone from her face, she was more beautiful than ever. As the crowd swept them past her, Veronica leaned over and whispered in Shawn’s ear.

“Call me,” she said. “I’ve got a birthmark even Oliver didn’t know about.”

And then the crowd swept her down the hallway from them. Shawn watched her go, then turned to Gus with a satisfied smile.

“I think we’ve made a new friend,” Shawn said.

“I think you’ve made a new enemy.”

They turned to see Bert Coules, the DA, looming over them. His fists were clenched, and a vein in his temple throbbed.

“Hey, Bert,” Shawn said. “Good work in there. Think how well it would have gone if you’d tried the right person.”

“She was the right person,” Coules said. “You just let a murderer walk free.”

“The forewoman confessed,” Gus said. “You heard her.”

“I heard a pathetic, lovelorn spinster desperately falling for a con dreamed up by a cheap fake,” Coules said.

“I am not cheap,” Shawn said. “I’m reasonable. Maybe you should try my services next time.”

Coules’ eyeballs looked like they were going to explode out of his head. “No, Mr. Spencer, you are going to try mine,” he said. “Unless you are the most law-abiding person in Santa Barbara County. Because if I discover you’ve committed the tiniest infraction of the smallest regulation, the entire office of the district attorney is going to find a way to make you serve the sentence Veronica Mason should be serving.”

Chapter Three

“Gus, this is just one of those things that no one could have anticipated.” Shawn and Gus trudged along the endless stretch of chain link, heat radiating up from the melting asphalt and burning through the thin leather soles of Gus’ best dress Oxfords.