Send in the clowns. It was Neptune's Annual Winter Carnival, and lucky me, I got to be Susie Slushie at the FBLA booth--but only until Mrs. Hauser, the Queen of the Carnival, interrupted my fine work and assigned me to be watchdog over the cash box while she chased after a gang of naked Tritons enacting their annual streaking ritual.

So guess who got blamed when all $12,000--the entire night's proceeds, all earmarked for the senior trip--went missing? Bingo. Your favorite pariah and mine: Veronica Mars. Clemmons went Homeland Security on us and set up metal detectors at the carnival entrance and announced that they'd be searching lockers. Madison Sinclair, whose brainstorms are so weak they couldn't budge a dust bunny, suggested the search begin with Jackie. Why Jackie? The consensus: why not? Even Mrs. Hauser seemed convinced that Jackie had the motive, opportunity, and genetics to steal the cash.

Since Terrence was arrested on suspicion of causing the bus crash, Jackie has become even less popular around Neptune. Her friend Cora told her that she wouldn't be needed to help at the French Club booth, but Jackie showed up anyway. I caught her in the bathroom scraping graffiti off a stall door at one point, and later she became the most--ahem--popular target at the dunk tank. Jackie may not have much of a fan club, but she's no thief. And she is a good sport.

When I figured out that Jackie couldn't have stolen the money, we went to confront Mrs. Hauser about her pursuit of Jackie. She apologized--sort of--for suspecting Jackie, but it wasn't particularly convincing and we soon figured out why not. All that glitter used to make the decorations for the carnival? Funny, but it also makes for a pretty decent detection tool. Not only does it do a decent job of recording impressions, it also leaves behind pretty obvious trace. Too bad for Mrs. Hauser, whose footprint appeared in red glitter on her desk. Why would she stand on her desk? How about to hide an envelope full of cash under a ceiling panel. Works for me.

Things were complicated for Madison Sinclair and the rest of the senior class 09ers. Not only were they disappointed that Jackie wasn't the thief, but that the money recovered from the stash in Mrs. Hauser's room wasn't the entire $12,000. Too bad. Not enough to pay for a trip to whatever country club Madison and her friends had been hoping for. Where did the rest go? Maybe you can ask Weevil on the way to our senior trip at Magic Mountain.

Besides being a crime scene, the carnival also served as a Hook-Up Central. Don't ask Dick about that, though. Too bad he isn't nicer to the Beav--I mean Cassidy. Then maybe Cassidy and Mac wouldn't have schemed to set him up with a tranny. Logan had more luck, though. Although his intentions were suspect, too. How convenient for him that the main witness to his alleged murder of Felix happens to have a cute blonde freshman daughter. Logan's new gal pal? Sweet, naive Hannah Griffith.

While I was at the carnival exonerating Jackie, Dad was back at the office listening to Terrence defend himself against charges that he was the mastermind behind the bus crash. A few beers into their discussion of baseball, betting and buses, Dad agreed to take Terrence's case. He knows Terrence has done some crooked stuff, but he doesn't believe that he could have murdered a busload of people. I hope he's right.