No Good Unpunished Ch.1
Title: No Good Unpunished
Author: Aeneas
Rating: R (language, violence, death, attempted rape)
Summary: Veronica and Weevil share celebratory milkshakes after he gets out of prison, not knowing their lives are going to collide in a much darker way only days later. (10,066 words)
Spoilers: All of Season 2
Pairings: Veronica and Logan are still together but not “onscreen”.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Rob Thomas and all the wonderful people who make Veronica Mars possible.
Notes: It’s an odd fic. A lot more happens in the spaces between the words than in the words themselves. Despite my best attempts, it’s Veronica-centric. Also, you can expect a follow-up that is Weevil-centric, but probably not until November.
Veronica Mars didn’t lie to her boyfriends unless it was absolutely necessary. This didn’t fall into either the absolutely or just barely necessary categories, but she managed not to look too guilty as she told Logan that she had few errands to run for her father. Boring stuff really; dropping off invoices and picking up those needed supplies like paperclips and file folders that kept a private investigator in business.
As it turned out, she didn’t need a cover story because Logan and Trina had yet another marathon session with the Echolls lawyers and accountants to determine the split of the estate. That left her free and clear for the afternoon, with no one but Back Up to see her leave the apartment.
Angel actually smiled when he saw her enter the yard and nodded for her to follow him through the winding stacks of cars and spare parts. He didn’t say much but that wasn’t unusual. Near the back fence, she saw a beat up truck that looked as though it had one last gasp before it dissolved into rust, but what make the pathetic pile of bolts and rust important was the familiar shape of a motorcycle wrapped in a tarp lying in its bed.
Hector was leaning against the side of the truck, looking a little bit uncomfortable and a whole lot nervous. There was a noticeable chill between him and Angel. He cleared his throat before pulling a key out of his pocket and holding it out to Veronica. “I kept it. You know. Just in case.”
“Very thoughtful of you. Keeping Weevil’s key after driving his bike into the ocean.” She snatched the key out of his hand.
“It wasn’t like that. I didn’t want to do that to him.”
“Yeah, you’re a real friend.” She wasn’t a fan of betrayal, regardless of who was on the receiving end, but took a deep breath and tried again without the hostility. It had been Hector’s idea after all. “Thank you for telling us where the bike was, Hector.”
“Least I can do. Weevil’s still...” he trailed off under the weight of Angel’s icy glare. With nothing more to say, he stuck his hands back into his jacket pockets and walked away.
“You okay alone, chica?” Angel asked once Hector was out of sight.
“Oddly enough, I have been to prison a few times. I can find my way.” She accepted another set of keys, these belonging to the battered truck.
“The clutch sticks. And watch third gear, it sometimes causes trouble.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
The inside of the cab was just as dirty and old as the outside and it smelled of rust and motor oil, which weren’t the worst odors she could have imagined. She felt small behind the giant steering wheel and the shifter was not only archaic, it was almost too stiff for her to muscle into gear. By the time she nosed the old beast out of the junkyard, her teeth had nearly rattled loose from the chugging of the engine.
Once on the highway, the vibrating settled into a solid hum that acted as a pseudo massage if she was inclined to be a glass half full. Nearly an hour later, she found a parking spot toward the far end of the prison lot and braced herself for another visit to the Bighouse. It certainly wasn’t the most fun and exciting way she could think of to spend a Saturday afternoon, but it felt right. It felt good. And she was pretty sure she could use all the good karma she could get.
The stern faced corrections facility assistant redirected her from the visitor’s area to where she really needed to be. Strangely enough, her prison visits had never been to actually see someone get out of jail so she felt a little strange standing on the sidewalk beyond the fence gates. And she wasn’t alone.
“Your man getting out today?” her only other companion asked between draws on her cigarette.
“Just a friend,” Veronica answered. The woman’s painted on eyebrows were a close match to the purple eye shadow and her dangling earrings were mesmerizing in the sunlight, almost as bright as her bleached out hair. Lacquered and rhinestone embellished nails looked strong enough to do some serious eye gouging.
“Sure, honey.” She made some sort of noise that must have been the product of a one-night stand between coughing and snorting. “My man’s been in for armed robbery. What about yours?”
“He’s not,” Veronica stopped, deciding it was futile. “Assault.” At the sharp look from the older woman, she clarified, “not me. It was guy thing. You know men, tempers flare and fists fly. Next thing you know there’s a sentence hearing and someone ends up in prison orange.”
The woman nodded her approval, smoking curling out around the wicked nails as she exhaled. “You done right to stand by him.”
Veronica shifted uncomfortably, trying to avoid the inevitably gnawing question of why exactly she was waiting for someone who wasn’t her boyfriend to get out of jail. Did that fit under the standing by her man umbrella? Would she have waited for Logan if he were the one walking down the sidewalk toward the gate? Holding his hand during a trail for a murder he didn’t commit was one thing, jail time he actually deserved would have been entirely different.
Of course, watching Logan was never the same as watching Eli with or without jail being involved. Logan didn’t have the same intensity in the way he moved or that look in his eyes. He was a firecracker that burned hot and sudden once his fuse was lit, but Eli never stopped burning, he just managed to contain it. She could imagine him walking toward her with flames licking over and quivering beneath his skin. And then suddenly, he was standing in front of her in the same tank top and jeans he’d worn the day he’d arrived at Chino. The set of his jaw had only gotten harder with prison, his eyes colder and more intense.
“Can’t say I expected to see you here. This your good deed for the day? Your random act of kindness those bumper stickers are always on about.”
“Eli.” Her voice died there because he’d flinched at the sympathy in her voice, probably hearing pity rather than compassion. The woman with the purple enamel nails was watching her expectantly. Forcing herself to smile, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dropped her voice to a whisper only he could hear. “Welcome back, Eli.” He returned the hug hesitantly at first and then pulled her tightly against him, pressing his face against her neck.
Before she began to panic that the hug had gone on too long, he pulled away. “You smell like heaven, V.”
“Funny. I don’t remember putting any heaven on this morning. I’m more of a hellfire and brimstone kinda gal.”
“Laundry detergent. I’d forgotten how good that smelled.”
“Just try not to do too much sniffing, okay? I might start feeling like a hydrant or something. Come on. I bet you’ve missed chocolate milk shakes even more than fabric softener.” She started toward the truck, waving a brief goodbye toward purple eye-shadow lady.
“You have no idea.”
“You’ll have to forgive the stylin’ ride. It’s a loaner while the Le Baron’s in the shop.” She pulled the truck keys out of her pocket and ignored his laughter when he realized which vehicle she was heading toward.
“Hope you’re getting serious work done then.”
“Angel thinks it’s only a matter of time before the engine falls right out.” She smiled at the look of surprise on his face. “Before you hop in, take a look in the back.”
It required all the self-control she had in her entire being to climb behind the wheel and start the truck. She wanted to give him privacy to savor the moment of having his bike back, as rusted and water damaged as it was. Angel assured her that with a bit of polishing, make that a lot of polishing, and all new electrical work, it could be as good as almost new. The tarp rustled; she could see it moving in the rearview mirror. Her skin was practically breaking out in a rash with the exertion of not getting back out to see what he was doing, but she managed to stay in the cab until he climbed in.
“Hector tell you where it was?” he asked quietly.
“And he held on to this.” She held out the key. “It’s not much of an apology but from a guy? Trust me, that’s huge. That’s like standing outside your window with a boombox huge.”
“Not my life anymore, V.”
“Just thought you might need a hobby. Angel says it needs a lot of work.” She waited for an answer until she pulled onto the highway, but decided that an hour of silence was going to be far too boring. “And it’s not all about you, you know. Have you considered that I miss riding around on your big, old hog?”
“Don’t you have some 09er boyfriend to follow around? Or did you manage to go through them all while I was locked up.”
“You’re welcome, Veronica, for picking me up from prison and for finding my motorcycle and convincing Angel to drag it out of the ocean,”she snapped angrily, stung by his attitude and by the guilty twinge over the truth behind it. Not willing to give him the satisfaction of being anywhere near right, she didn’t mention her second-time-around with Logan.
“Guess I’ll owe you,” he scoffed.
“You can start by not being an ass.”
He didn’t respond for another fifteen miles. She focused on driving rather than how she could get the passenger door open and shove him out onto the highway. It was thoroughly ungrateful of him considering the long walk back home to Neptune. At the same time, his jabs were strangely comforting in their familiarity. What she didn’t know was how far she could push him before he really started pushing back.
“Still think Plan B was worth it?” It was a rhetorical question so she didn’t expect an answer. It wasn’t exactly a fair question to ask at the tail end of a prison sentence either, but Veronica Mars had never shied away from the unfair questions.
“You telling me you didn’t want Aaron Echolls dead after he walked? That it wouldn’t have been worth it to you to make sure he got justice for what he did to Lilly. Tell me you weren’t glad he got a bullet through his skull.”
“It’s not the same.”
“It’s exactly the same!” His voice rose slightly. “Just because you’re screwing one rich kid after another, you think that makes you better than the rest of us down here in the gutter.”
She jerked the wheel hard to the right and barely made the exit. Where exactly the exit was going, she hadn’t bothered to look; she just needed to get off the highway before she was too angry to drive safely and killed them both. Of course, if she could think of a way to just crash Weevil’s side of the truck, she might be tempted to give it a try. Instead, she made it into a convenient store parking lot before slamming on the brakes.
“Is there a good reason you’re being a complete bastard? Cause if there is, I’d really love to hear it. I didn’t come looking for a fight. I came to help you. Because I’m your friend, Weevil. Your friend.”
He continued to look straight ahead, the muscles in his jaw working and his clenched fist tapping against the doorframe. A couple of times he looked about to break the silence with an explanation or an apology, but his jaw was closed tightly enough that she wondered if his teeth had fused together. “Can we...can you take me to the cemetery? When we get back.”
“The cemetery?”
“I didn’t get to go to my grandmother’s funeral.”
She cringed, her anger fading. “Weevil, I’m sorry. I completely forgot. I’m horrible.”
“Yeah, well. We make a pretty good pair, don’t we?”
“Matched set. Like a pair of salt and pepper shakers with roosters painted on them. Or cows, if you’d prefer cows.”
The first hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “I’d rather stay away from country chic if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Flaming skulls?”
“Might be a little over the top.”
“Obviously we can never decorate an apartment together.” She finally pried her fingers off of the steering wheel. “Friends?”
“Do we have to get some sort of charm bracelet?”
“Nah. It’d just clash with the rest of your bling.”
Twisting to the side, he raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. “So the bit about the chocolate milkshake. Was that for real or were you just being a tease?”
“I never tease.” She’d thrown the idea out there on a whim but it suddenly seemed like the perfect thing for a balmy fall afternoon. They didn’t speak on the drive back to the highway entrance but it didn’t feel as strained as before. The Dairy Freeze was just outside the Neptune city limits, still far enough away that she didn’t have to watch her back for anyone who might recognize her. She could pretend she was just out for an afternoon drive with a friend.
Once they parked, she sent Weevil to claim a table on the patio and ordered two gigantic chocolate milkshakes at the counter. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him tap his fingers on the table and avoid looking at anyone who walked by. It occurred to her that she probably should have done some research about dealing with someone recently released from prison. Until she learned to read his mind, chocolate milkshake bonding would have to do. Grabbing the shakes, she picked up a couple spoons and headed out to the table.
“One celebratory milkshake.” She set down the shakes and took a seat across from him. “Plus, there’s no hangover tomorrow and no risk of sexually transmitted diseases. Which is my way of saying I’m too cheap to take you out for an all weekend bash in TJ.”
“This is better, believe me.” Digging into the shake with a passion, he closed his eyes for a moment to savor the taste.
“They make fries here too.”
“You tryin’ to kill me? One thing at a time, one thing at a time.” He slurped up another heaping spoonful. “What about you? College treating you good?”
“I’m still getting used to it. I opted not to live on campus; it’s cheaper and that way I can still work for my dad.” The blended ice cream was cold on her tongue and reminded her of eating ice cream on the beach with Logan. Pushing those thoughts away, she licked her spoon clean and kept going. “Right now I’m majoring in journalism but I’m thinking of shopping around for something else.”
“Tired of digging up dirt on people?”
“It’s the deadlines. One of my professors thinks that giving us a paper due by three in the morning is just a taste of the real life experience.” Swirling her spoon absently, she watched him eat. “What about you? Got any big plans?”
“Court mandated community work. Car wash or some shit like that,” he answered with resignation.
“Well, you like cars, right?”
He rolled his eyes skyward but managed a strained laugh. “Right.”
Conversation petered out after that, lost amidst scoops of milkshake and sound of the world around them. There were questions she could be asking but it felt right to simply sit there and enjoy the sunshine. She was surprised at how good it felt to just be. He wasn’t demanding that she entertain him, wasn’t wearing her down with constant drama. Being quiet was not one Logan’s favorite things and she found that she’d missed having someone to be silent with.
Once their shakes were gone, she asked Eli if he was ready to go and for just a moment, she thought he was going to say no. When he didn’t, she realized that she wished he would have. Going back to Neptune meant going back to reality and the real world, on or off screen, was highly overrated.
***
“How was your day?” Keith Mars asked over his plate of leftovers.
“Same old, same old.” Another look at her phone and Logan still hadn’t called. It wasn’t unexpected. She just hoped that he and Trina weren’t doing any familial bonding that would end up as the front-page news.
“Nothing out of the ordinary?”
“Trust me, it was boring college student stuff.”
“I wasn’t aware that boring college student stuff involved Eli Navarro.”
She set her book aside and got up, crossing the small living room to lean against the kitchen island. He was a bit skittish about meeting her accusing stare. “Statement like that…a girl might think you were having her followed. Are you, Daddy Dearest?”
“An acquaintance saw you at the Dairy Freeze.”
“Does this acquaintance have a name? Just so I know who I need to kneecap.”
“I thought we’d talked about Eli.”
Turning away, she headed back to the couch to gather up her textbooks and notes. This wasn’t a discussion she’d wanted to have the first time, let alone rehash it over and over again. “You told me he wasn’t part of my fabulous new college life or the dwindling number of my friends who don’t have criminal records. All that good stuff.”
“Not that you ever listen to a word I say, Veronica, but you’re not in high school anymore. And I hate to sound cynical but there aren’t a lot of options open to Eli, none of which are what I want you to be involved in.”
She could feel his stare boring into the back of her head. “You can stop the guard dog routine, Dad. I was picking up a friend who needed a ride and who hadn’t had a milkshake in six months. That’s it, end of story. There’s no dating, no bringing home to meet the fam, no picking out matching china. Absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“If you come home with a tattoo...”
“You know it’ll say I Heart Dad. Why are we even having this conversation?” Notes and books in hand, she stopped to wait for an answer.
He gave her his most winning campaign smile. “It’s what dads do.”
“You need a vacation.” That was all she had to say about the situation so she left him to his dinner and retreated to her room.
Friendship with Weevil had perks she wasn’t willing to give up just to sooth his paternal paranoia. Eli was one of the few people she knew she could count on when the chips were down, even if he was a pain in the ass more often than not. Maybe he wasn’t part of her father’s perfect world, but he was a part of hers and that wasn’t going to change without a more compelling reason.
Halfway through her journalism paper, Logan still hadn’t called and she was getting increasingly bored with the ethical implications of journalist-source confidentiality. Five thousand words were four thousand more than she needed to explain how she felt on the subject and her mind had other things to think about. There were cases to solve, midterms to pass, and the latest overprotective phase her father was going through. She stopped typing mid-sentence, frowning at the laptop screen.
The first few months, she’d chalked her father’s behavior up to guilt over standing her up at the airport; then she’d blamed it on starting her first semester at Hearst. But now she was a month into classes and he was still asking for her every movement. It was subtle; just enough to make her wonder if there were more pictures of her with bulls-eyes on her face that she didn’t know about. Whatever happened that day, whatever Kendall Casablancas said to keep him from taking their trip to New York, it was still lurking under the surface.
He’d never told her and she’d only asked once. The tone of his non-answer meant he’d just lie to her if she pursued the issue and he was changing the combination to his safe on a weekly basis now. She looked the other way because everything else was improving, but the end of her blind faith was rapidly approaching. If he had a good reason for wanting her to stay away from Weevil, then he’d better cough it up before she decided to test the fence for herself.
Chapter Two
Author: Aeneas
Rating: R (language, violence, death, attempted rape)
Summary: Veronica and Weevil share celebratory milkshakes after he gets out of prison, not knowing their lives are going to collide in a much darker way only days later. (10,066 words)
Spoilers: All of Season 2
Pairings: Veronica and Logan are still together but not “onscreen”.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Rob Thomas and all the wonderful people who make Veronica Mars possible.
Notes: It’s an odd fic. A lot more happens in the spaces between the words than in the words themselves. Despite my best attempts, it’s Veronica-centric. Also, you can expect a follow-up that is Weevil-centric, but probably not until November.
Veronica Mars didn’t lie to her boyfriends unless it was absolutely necessary. This didn’t fall into either the absolutely or just barely necessary categories, but she managed not to look too guilty as she told Logan that she had few errands to run for her father. Boring stuff really; dropping off invoices and picking up those needed supplies like paperclips and file folders that kept a private investigator in business.
As it turned out, she didn’t need a cover story because Logan and Trina had yet another marathon session with the Echolls lawyers and accountants to determine the split of the estate. That left her free and clear for the afternoon, with no one but Back Up to see her leave the apartment.
Angel actually smiled when he saw her enter the yard and nodded for her to follow him through the winding stacks of cars and spare parts. He didn’t say much but that wasn’t unusual. Near the back fence, she saw a beat up truck that looked as though it had one last gasp before it dissolved into rust, but what make the pathetic pile of bolts and rust important was the familiar shape of a motorcycle wrapped in a tarp lying in its bed.
Hector was leaning against the side of the truck, looking a little bit uncomfortable and a whole lot nervous. There was a noticeable chill between him and Angel. He cleared his throat before pulling a key out of his pocket and holding it out to Veronica. “I kept it. You know. Just in case.”
“Very thoughtful of you. Keeping Weevil’s key after driving his bike into the ocean.” She snatched the key out of his hand.
“It wasn’t like that. I didn’t want to do that to him.”
“Yeah, you’re a real friend.” She wasn’t a fan of betrayal, regardless of who was on the receiving end, but took a deep breath and tried again without the hostility. It had been Hector’s idea after all. “Thank you for telling us where the bike was, Hector.”
“Least I can do. Weevil’s still...” he trailed off under the weight of Angel’s icy glare. With nothing more to say, he stuck his hands back into his jacket pockets and walked away.
“You okay alone, chica?” Angel asked once Hector was out of sight.
“Oddly enough, I have been to prison a few times. I can find my way.” She accepted another set of keys, these belonging to the battered truck.
“The clutch sticks. And watch third gear, it sometimes causes trouble.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
The inside of the cab was just as dirty and old as the outside and it smelled of rust and motor oil, which weren’t the worst odors she could have imagined. She felt small behind the giant steering wheel and the shifter was not only archaic, it was almost too stiff for her to muscle into gear. By the time she nosed the old beast out of the junkyard, her teeth had nearly rattled loose from the chugging of the engine.
Once on the highway, the vibrating settled into a solid hum that acted as a pseudo massage if she was inclined to be a glass half full. Nearly an hour later, she found a parking spot toward the far end of the prison lot and braced herself for another visit to the Bighouse. It certainly wasn’t the most fun and exciting way she could think of to spend a Saturday afternoon, but it felt right. It felt good. And she was pretty sure she could use all the good karma she could get.
The stern faced corrections facility assistant redirected her from the visitor’s area to where she really needed to be. Strangely enough, her prison visits had never been to actually see someone get out of jail so she felt a little strange standing on the sidewalk beyond the fence gates. And she wasn’t alone.
“Your man getting out today?” her only other companion asked between draws on her cigarette.
“Just a friend,” Veronica answered. The woman’s painted on eyebrows were a close match to the purple eye shadow and her dangling earrings were mesmerizing in the sunlight, almost as bright as her bleached out hair. Lacquered and rhinestone embellished nails looked strong enough to do some serious eye gouging.
“Sure, honey.” She made some sort of noise that must have been the product of a one-night stand between coughing and snorting. “My man’s been in for armed robbery. What about yours?”
“He’s not,” Veronica stopped, deciding it was futile. “Assault.” At the sharp look from the older woman, she clarified, “not me. It was guy thing. You know men, tempers flare and fists fly. Next thing you know there’s a sentence hearing and someone ends up in prison orange.”
The woman nodded her approval, smoking curling out around the wicked nails as she exhaled. “You done right to stand by him.”
Veronica shifted uncomfortably, trying to avoid the inevitably gnawing question of why exactly she was waiting for someone who wasn’t her boyfriend to get out of jail. Did that fit under the standing by her man umbrella? Would she have waited for Logan if he were the one walking down the sidewalk toward the gate? Holding his hand during a trail for a murder he didn’t commit was one thing, jail time he actually deserved would have been entirely different.
Of course, watching Logan was never the same as watching Eli with or without jail being involved. Logan didn’t have the same intensity in the way he moved or that look in his eyes. He was a firecracker that burned hot and sudden once his fuse was lit, but Eli never stopped burning, he just managed to contain it. She could imagine him walking toward her with flames licking over and quivering beneath his skin. And then suddenly, he was standing in front of her in the same tank top and jeans he’d worn the day he’d arrived at Chino. The set of his jaw had only gotten harder with prison, his eyes colder and more intense.
“Can’t say I expected to see you here. This your good deed for the day? Your random act of kindness those bumper stickers are always on about.”
“Eli.” Her voice died there because he’d flinched at the sympathy in her voice, probably hearing pity rather than compassion. The woman with the purple enamel nails was watching her expectantly. Forcing herself to smile, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dropped her voice to a whisper only he could hear. “Welcome back, Eli.” He returned the hug hesitantly at first and then pulled her tightly against him, pressing his face against her neck.
Before she began to panic that the hug had gone on too long, he pulled away. “You smell like heaven, V.”
“Funny. I don’t remember putting any heaven on this morning. I’m more of a hellfire and brimstone kinda gal.”
“Laundry detergent. I’d forgotten how good that smelled.”
“Just try not to do too much sniffing, okay? I might start feeling like a hydrant or something. Come on. I bet you’ve missed chocolate milk shakes even more than fabric softener.” She started toward the truck, waving a brief goodbye toward purple eye-shadow lady.
“You have no idea.”
“You’ll have to forgive the stylin’ ride. It’s a loaner while the Le Baron’s in the shop.” She pulled the truck keys out of her pocket and ignored his laughter when he realized which vehicle she was heading toward.
“Hope you’re getting serious work done then.”
“Angel thinks it’s only a matter of time before the engine falls right out.” She smiled at the look of surprise on his face. “Before you hop in, take a look in the back.”
It required all the self-control she had in her entire being to climb behind the wheel and start the truck. She wanted to give him privacy to savor the moment of having his bike back, as rusted and water damaged as it was. Angel assured her that with a bit of polishing, make that a lot of polishing, and all new electrical work, it could be as good as almost new. The tarp rustled; she could see it moving in the rearview mirror. Her skin was practically breaking out in a rash with the exertion of not getting back out to see what he was doing, but she managed to stay in the cab until he climbed in.
“Hector tell you where it was?” he asked quietly.
“And he held on to this.” She held out the key. “It’s not much of an apology but from a guy? Trust me, that’s huge. That’s like standing outside your window with a boombox huge.”
“Not my life anymore, V.”
“Just thought you might need a hobby. Angel says it needs a lot of work.” She waited for an answer until she pulled onto the highway, but decided that an hour of silence was going to be far too boring. “And it’s not all about you, you know. Have you considered that I miss riding around on your big, old hog?”
“Don’t you have some 09er boyfriend to follow around? Or did you manage to go through them all while I was locked up.”
“You’re welcome, Veronica, for picking me up from prison and for finding my motorcycle and convincing Angel to drag it out of the ocean,”she snapped angrily, stung by his attitude and by the guilty twinge over the truth behind it. Not willing to give him the satisfaction of being anywhere near right, she didn’t mention her second-time-around with Logan.
“Guess I’ll owe you,” he scoffed.
“You can start by not being an ass.”
He didn’t respond for another fifteen miles. She focused on driving rather than how she could get the passenger door open and shove him out onto the highway. It was thoroughly ungrateful of him considering the long walk back home to Neptune. At the same time, his jabs were strangely comforting in their familiarity. What she didn’t know was how far she could push him before he really started pushing back.
“Still think Plan B was worth it?” It was a rhetorical question so she didn’t expect an answer. It wasn’t exactly a fair question to ask at the tail end of a prison sentence either, but Veronica Mars had never shied away from the unfair questions.
“You telling me you didn’t want Aaron Echolls dead after he walked? That it wouldn’t have been worth it to you to make sure he got justice for what he did to Lilly. Tell me you weren’t glad he got a bullet through his skull.”
“It’s not the same.”
“It’s exactly the same!” His voice rose slightly. “Just because you’re screwing one rich kid after another, you think that makes you better than the rest of us down here in the gutter.”
She jerked the wheel hard to the right and barely made the exit. Where exactly the exit was going, she hadn’t bothered to look; she just needed to get off the highway before she was too angry to drive safely and killed them both. Of course, if she could think of a way to just crash Weevil’s side of the truck, she might be tempted to give it a try. Instead, she made it into a convenient store parking lot before slamming on the brakes.
“Is there a good reason you’re being a complete bastard? Cause if there is, I’d really love to hear it. I didn’t come looking for a fight. I came to help you. Because I’m your friend, Weevil. Your friend.”
He continued to look straight ahead, the muscles in his jaw working and his clenched fist tapping against the doorframe. A couple of times he looked about to break the silence with an explanation or an apology, but his jaw was closed tightly enough that she wondered if his teeth had fused together. “Can we...can you take me to the cemetery? When we get back.”
“The cemetery?”
“I didn’t get to go to my grandmother’s funeral.”
She cringed, her anger fading. “Weevil, I’m sorry. I completely forgot. I’m horrible.”
“Yeah, well. We make a pretty good pair, don’t we?”
“Matched set. Like a pair of salt and pepper shakers with roosters painted on them. Or cows, if you’d prefer cows.”
The first hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “I’d rather stay away from country chic if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Flaming skulls?”
“Might be a little over the top.”
“Obviously we can never decorate an apartment together.” She finally pried her fingers off of the steering wheel. “Friends?”
“Do we have to get some sort of charm bracelet?”
“Nah. It’d just clash with the rest of your bling.”
Twisting to the side, he raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. “So the bit about the chocolate milkshake. Was that for real or were you just being a tease?”
“I never tease.” She’d thrown the idea out there on a whim but it suddenly seemed like the perfect thing for a balmy fall afternoon. They didn’t speak on the drive back to the highway entrance but it didn’t feel as strained as before. The Dairy Freeze was just outside the Neptune city limits, still far enough away that she didn’t have to watch her back for anyone who might recognize her. She could pretend she was just out for an afternoon drive with a friend.
Once they parked, she sent Weevil to claim a table on the patio and ordered two gigantic chocolate milkshakes at the counter. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him tap his fingers on the table and avoid looking at anyone who walked by. It occurred to her that she probably should have done some research about dealing with someone recently released from prison. Until she learned to read his mind, chocolate milkshake bonding would have to do. Grabbing the shakes, she picked up a couple spoons and headed out to the table.
“One celebratory milkshake.” She set down the shakes and took a seat across from him. “Plus, there’s no hangover tomorrow and no risk of sexually transmitted diseases. Which is my way of saying I’m too cheap to take you out for an all weekend bash in TJ.”
“This is better, believe me.” Digging into the shake with a passion, he closed his eyes for a moment to savor the taste.
“They make fries here too.”
“You tryin’ to kill me? One thing at a time, one thing at a time.” He slurped up another heaping spoonful. “What about you? College treating you good?”
“I’m still getting used to it. I opted not to live on campus; it’s cheaper and that way I can still work for my dad.” The blended ice cream was cold on her tongue and reminded her of eating ice cream on the beach with Logan. Pushing those thoughts away, she licked her spoon clean and kept going. “Right now I’m majoring in journalism but I’m thinking of shopping around for something else.”
“Tired of digging up dirt on people?”
“It’s the deadlines. One of my professors thinks that giving us a paper due by three in the morning is just a taste of the real life experience.” Swirling her spoon absently, she watched him eat. “What about you? Got any big plans?”
“Court mandated community work. Car wash or some shit like that,” he answered with resignation.
“Well, you like cars, right?”
He rolled his eyes skyward but managed a strained laugh. “Right.”
Conversation petered out after that, lost amidst scoops of milkshake and sound of the world around them. There were questions she could be asking but it felt right to simply sit there and enjoy the sunshine. She was surprised at how good it felt to just be. He wasn’t demanding that she entertain him, wasn’t wearing her down with constant drama. Being quiet was not one Logan’s favorite things and she found that she’d missed having someone to be silent with.
Once their shakes were gone, she asked Eli if he was ready to go and for just a moment, she thought he was going to say no. When he didn’t, she realized that she wished he would have. Going back to Neptune meant going back to reality and the real world, on or off screen, was highly overrated.
***
“How was your day?” Keith Mars asked over his plate of leftovers.
“Same old, same old.” Another look at her phone and Logan still hadn’t called. It wasn’t unexpected. She just hoped that he and Trina weren’t doing any familial bonding that would end up as the front-page news.
“Nothing out of the ordinary?”
“Trust me, it was boring college student stuff.”
“I wasn’t aware that boring college student stuff involved Eli Navarro.”
She set her book aside and got up, crossing the small living room to lean against the kitchen island. He was a bit skittish about meeting her accusing stare. “Statement like that…a girl might think you were having her followed. Are you, Daddy Dearest?”
“An acquaintance saw you at the Dairy Freeze.”
“Does this acquaintance have a name? Just so I know who I need to kneecap.”
“I thought we’d talked about Eli.”
Turning away, she headed back to the couch to gather up her textbooks and notes. This wasn’t a discussion she’d wanted to have the first time, let alone rehash it over and over again. “You told me he wasn’t part of my fabulous new college life or the dwindling number of my friends who don’t have criminal records. All that good stuff.”
“Not that you ever listen to a word I say, Veronica, but you’re not in high school anymore. And I hate to sound cynical but there aren’t a lot of options open to Eli, none of which are what I want you to be involved in.”
She could feel his stare boring into the back of her head. “You can stop the guard dog routine, Dad. I was picking up a friend who needed a ride and who hadn’t had a milkshake in six months. That’s it, end of story. There’s no dating, no bringing home to meet the fam, no picking out matching china. Absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“If you come home with a tattoo...”
“You know it’ll say I Heart Dad. Why are we even having this conversation?” Notes and books in hand, she stopped to wait for an answer.
He gave her his most winning campaign smile. “It’s what dads do.”
“You need a vacation.” That was all she had to say about the situation so she left him to his dinner and retreated to her room.
Friendship with Weevil had perks she wasn’t willing to give up just to sooth his paternal paranoia. Eli was one of the few people she knew she could count on when the chips were down, even if he was a pain in the ass more often than not. Maybe he wasn’t part of her father’s perfect world, but he was a part of hers and that wasn’t going to change without a more compelling reason.
Halfway through her journalism paper, Logan still hadn’t called and she was getting increasingly bored with the ethical implications of journalist-source confidentiality. Five thousand words were four thousand more than she needed to explain how she felt on the subject and her mind had other things to think about. There were cases to solve, midterms to pass, and the latest overprotective phase her father was going through. She stopped typing mid-sentence, frowning at the laptop screen.
The first few months, she’d chalked her father’s behavior up to guilt over standing her up at the airport; then she’d blamed it on starting her first semester at Hearst. But now she was a month into classes and he was still asking for her every movement. It was subtle; just enough to make her wonder if there were more pictures of her with bulls-eyes on her face that she didn’t know about. Whatever happened that day, whatever Kendall Casablancas said to keep him from taking their trip to New York, it was still lurking under the surface.
He’d never told her and she’d only asked once. The tone of his non-answer meant he’d just lie to her if she pursued the issue and he was changing the combination to his safe on a weekly basis now. She looked the other way because everything else was improving, but the end of her blind faith was rapidly approaching. If he had a good reason for wanting her to stay away from Weevil, then he’d better cough it up before she decided to test the fence for herself.
Chapter Two