Kid Things, Chapter Five
Title: Kid Things (WIP, 5/10)
Author:
sowell
Characters: Logan/Veronica
Word Count: 3,660
Rating: R, for language
Summary: 5 years after graduation, Logan comes back to Neptune to ask Veronica for help.
Spoilers: Spoiled through 2.22
Disclaimer: I don't own them, Rob Thomas does. But if he's in a giving mood....
Notes: Long-ish chapter. Slightly depressing, maybe. I dunno - this fic seems to want to go in a slightly darker direction than I'd planned.
Read it at
veronicamarsfic
One...Two...Three...Four
Five
Logan was a little fuzzy on whether he had actually intended for Veronica to find him in bed with another girl five years ago. He remembered that she’d been distant for weeks. Her reasons included, but were not limited to: he drank too much, he had no ambition, he was too possessive, he had a death wish, etc., etc. After the first few weeks of college she stopped trying to convince him to apply to school. During the second month she stopped coming directly to his hotel suite after class. By the third month he was lucky if he got a few phone calls a week. He tried so hard to hold on to her, but she was sand in his fist. It seemed he never learned.
They’d had a particularly nasty fight revolving around him taking a swing at some asshole that was hitting on her. He wasn’t pissed at the asshole; he was pissed because Veronica was smiling at the asshole, wide and pert, like she hadn’t smiled at him for a month. That weekend Veronica had implored him to come out to dinner with her; they needed to talk. He was pretty sure he’d overturn every table in the restaurant if he had to listen to her cut him out of her life one more time. Instead of keeping their dinner date, he spent the night at the hotel bar, looking for someone he wanted to sleep with that didn’t remind him of Veronica. It took some effort, but he found her. Tall, curvy, dark-haired - Jessica Rabbit in the flesh. Just the thing to prove to himself that he could survive the next thirty or forty years without Veronica Mars.
He’d been stumbling drunk, so he could never quite remember if he meant to be caught. Logan thought he was just enough of a prick that he probably did. Take that, you heartless bitch. When he saw Veronica’s white face in the morning, he knew. There was no apologizing his way out of it with heartfelt confessions and tears, no making amends with flowers and candy and promises. He had two options. He could stay in Neptune and become that guy again - that guy Lilly turned him into, slobbering drunk on her doorstep, crying and begging to be taken back. Lilly always took him back because, deep down, he knew she enjoyed the power she had over him. Veronica didn’t play those kinds of games, even when he wanted her to.
Or he could leave. He could go someplace where no one had ever met Lilly Kane and no one had ever heard of Veronica Mars. He’d been a fucking idiot, of course, thinking he would ever actually get away from Neptune, but he hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly at the time. He’d just lost the last thing he gave a shit about, and Dick had urged him to come to LA. Why the fuck not? he thought. He stayed for a week, and realized he didn’t ever have to go back.
If only Trina could have kept her pants on.
*****
The first thing he saw when he entered the parking lot the next morning was Keith Mars, leaning up against Logan’s brand new SUV, wearing a terrifying smile. Logan faltered for a second, but Percy was half asleep in his arms, and what was he going to do, run?
"I thought we should have a chat," Keith said, running his fingers over the hood of his car with a precision that had Logan thinking of snapping bones.
"Yippee," Logan muttered. He unlocked the doors and slumped Percy in the driver’s seat, then got the brand new car seat he’d purchased yesterday out of the trunk, feeling Keith’s eyes follow him.
He ripped open the top of the cardboard packaging. "As much as I’d love to rehash old times, I’d prefer we not to this next to my new car. Blood on the upholstery and all that."
Keith’s grin merely widened, and Logan felt a little frisson of alarm. Shit. He was not Veronica’s boyfriend anymore. He was the fastest, snarkiest, coldest bad boy in LA County, and he would not let Keith Mars reduce him to a sniveling teenager. He set the hard plastic carrier in the back and started jerking the straps around the leather seat to hold it in place.
"Now, what makes you think I’m here for violence?" Keith asked in false bafflement. "Veronica’s an adult; you’re an adult. It would be awfully presumptuous of me to come out here and threaten you. Not to mention illegal."
"So you came out here to smile creepily and not warn me away from Veronica?" Logan asked absently, trying to figure how to tighten the fastenings. The straps that connected diagonally made the whole seat tilt sideways, but the straps that connected horizontally left it hanging so loose that it would be bouncing around every time he hit a speed bump. Jesus, who knew you had to have an engineering degree to install one of these motherfuckers?
"The thing is, Logan - " Keith stopped, distracted by Logan’s struggles. He walked around the front of the car, opened the back door on the passenger side, and reached in to grab the seat.
He continued, "The thing is, Veronica’s worked very hard to get to this point in her life. She’s had a lot to overcome, and I’m proud of her." He calmly flipped the car seat upside down and began efficiently tightening the straps in back. Logan watched dumbly.
"I can’t help but feel this bizarre sense of déjà vu. See, I already know how this story ends, and it’s not good for my daughter. I don’t remember it being particularly pleasant for you, either, so I’m a little confused as to why you’d want to live it again." His eyes were on the seat as he jiggled it to make sure it was properly secured.
Finally Logan said, "This isn’t about Veronica. My sister’s missing. It’s just a business transaction."
Keith gave the seat one last satisfied pat, then climbed out of the back. "That’s what Veronica said. I’m wondering if all the private investigators in LA were on sabbatical this week."
"I…Neptune is Trina’s home."
"I’ll tell you what." Keith dug into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "Here is the number for a Mr. Vincent Vanlowe. His office is two blocks down from ours on Main Street. He’s a perfectly competent investigator, and I’m sure he’ll have lots of luck with your sister."
"I don’t want - "
"I’ll even pay the fee for you," Keith interrupted. "And I’ll break the news to Veronica."
Logan stared down at the card, trapped. He didn’t want someone else to find Trina. He wanted to drive down to LA with Veronica, watching the sun on her hair and her skin, and trying to make her smile.
Keith was studying him closely. "Just business, huh?" he asked softly, and his eyes were pitying despite the threat contained therein.
Instead of answering, Logan grabbed Percy, leaned into the back, and set him in the newly installed car seat. He jumped when Keith clamped a hand on the back of his neck. "I know you’ve had some rough breaks," he said, and his voice was very close to Logan’s ear. "I know your father beat you your whole life, and I’m sorry." The hand tightened. "But if you hurt my daughter again," pause "I will make you long for your father, I promise." Then he was gone.
Logan slumped against the side of the car, pressing his forehead against the window. He felt the responsibility of his sister’s son pressing in on one side, Keith’s threats on the other. And Veronica in the middle, the only person who could pull him out of this hole. He didn’t get the feeling she’d be reaching her hand in any time soon.
*****
Five more minutes and they would have missed each other. But apparently she’d managed to piss off the gods of coincidence in the recent past, because it was Logan at her door at 8AM sharp.
"I said 9 at the office. What are you doing here?"
He was leaning against the wall, just leaning in that posture of practiced insolence that she always associated with him. There was nothing solid about Logan. He was all slippery twists and changing angles, and he could never just straightforwardly present himself like every other human being on the planet. He was either rattling her teeth to get her attention or doing what he was doing now, just draping himself away from her. Very smart and smug and come and get me.
"Well," he said, brushing some lint off his shirt, "you and I both know by 9AM you would’ve been halfway to LA and there would’ve been a piece of paper taped to the office door that said Better luck next time or Sorry I had to fly or something else you thought was clever."
There was a note she’d written that morning wedged in the back pocket of her jeans that said "Logan: Would’ve taken you, but awkward car rides aren’t my thing. Call you when I know something. V." It took all her effort not to reach back and make sure it was still there, that he hadn’t lifted it off her person somehow in the last twenty seconds.
Logan smirked at the expression on her face. He peered over her shoulder into her apartment. "It’s kind of rude not to invite me in, Mars. Didn’t the sheriff teach his baby girl manners?"
Jeff chose that moment to wander through the kitchen, already dressed in his suit and tie for work. Logan’s expression sharpened. The smile that appeared on his face had predatory edge to it, and he was off the wall in a second, shouldering his way into her front hall.
"So this is where you ended up, huh?" He glanced all around in a parody of genuine interest, when he was really being a genuine asshole.
Jeff ambled over to them, fiddling with his tie. "Morning."
Logan pointed at Jeff in a display of delight and recognition. "You must be the boyfriend." He held out a hand. "Nice to meet you."
Jeff looked a little puzzled, but he shook Logan’s hand. "Jeffrey Polkowski. Uh, nice to meet you. You are?"
That spurred Veronica into action. "This is…this is Logan. He’s a client," she said, shooting daggers at Logan in an attempt to keep him quiet.
Logan gave her shoulder a caressing squeeze. "I guess client works as well as any other label."
Jeff stopped tying his tie. He shot her a quizzical look. "You two know each other?"
"Neptune High, Class of ‘06," Logan filled in, oh so helpful. It wasn’t the most damaging thing he could have said. Then again, Jeff wasn’t stupid. He didn’t know the complete history between her and Aaron Echolls’ son, but he knew enough to piece together about a thousand sordid scenarios in his mind.
"Huh," Jeff said, suddenly at full attention. "Then you live in the area."
"Veronica," Logan turned to stare at her in dismay. "I’m a little hurt that our reunion didn’t even make dinner table conversation." He turned back to Jeff. "Temporarily in the area. Veronica’s helping me out with a little…problem."
Veronica wanted to close her eyes and sink into the fake wood floor of her foyer. Jeff was looking at her like he didn’t recognize her, and Logan was smirking, circling them both as he pretended to examine various facets of the wall, the door, the counter.
She turned to Jeff, ignoring Logan. "He needed to drop something off for his case. He was just about to leave."
"Sure," Logan said airily. "I’ll wait in the car."
Jeff resumed his attention to his neckwear, tugging a little harder on the silk. "You two spending the day together?"
"No," she said, at the same time Logan said "Yes."
"Interesting," said Jeff. He grabbed his work bag from the counter. He usually left her with a kiss on the cheek. Today he put a hand on her waist and kissed her on the mouth, long and lingering and possessive enough to make her back stiffen. She didn’t look at Logan’s reaction, because she didn’t care. Jeff broke away and gave her a look that said, "We will be talking about this."
Out loud he said, "Call you tonight." He shot a tight, "Good luck with that problem," at Logan. Logan responded with a pert little wave.
Veronica watched him go, then glanced up at Logan. He was staring at her left hand. "No ring today," he said, face smooth and unreadable. He pushed past her and headed for the parking lot.
Veronica stopped short when she saw Percy, strapped into a car seat in the back of Logan’s SUV. "You said you were getting a babysitter," she said dangerously.
Logan shrugged. "I lied." He rolled his eyes at her. "Chill the fuck out, supermom. He’ll be fine."
She climbed in the passenger seat and slammed the door. "If you insist on going it would be smarter to take my car. This thing will get stolen in a second."
"Too bad I don’t ride in cars uglier than a monkey’s butt," he said matter-of-factly, starting the ignition.
They managed five blissful minutes of silence before Logan spoke again. "Soooo…do you think Duncan would be jealous or flattered that you’re engaged to his clone? Just a thought."
She turned on the radio. She was in for the longest road trip of her life.
*****
"Classy," Logan said when they pulled up to the run-down apartment building. It was old LA glamour gone to pot - brick exterior, front awning, and wide, spacious windows, all chipping and covered over with about ten years’ worth of dust. It looked like it may have been a hotel at some point, probably in the 1950’s when it was built. Now it held apartments for newcomers to LA, struggling to get their foot in the door of some facet of the entertainment industry or another.
"Stay in the car," she told Logan.
"You know, the word ‘please’ works wonders."
"Please stay in the car, jackass."
"Yeah…not even if you paid me. Although I might reconsider for sexual favors."
They ended up in front of Mr. Jonathan Sewell’s door together with Logan balancing Percy on his shoulders and Veronica clutching her taser at the ready. She needn’t have bothered. The man that opened the door was middle-aged, thin, balding, and nervous. He froze when he saw Percy.
"Hi!" Percy chirped, looking at Sewell.
"I think you may have misplaced this," Veronica said, smiling sweetly.
"Where’s Trina?" Sewell asked, glancing around uneasily.
Hmm, not a promising start.
Logan toed the door open and Sewell let them in without protest.
"Look, the kid isn’t mine," he said desperately.
"Funny, he has your last name."
"That’s because Trina Echolls is a lying little junkie of a whore." She glanced at Logan, but Logan’s face was remote as he set Percy down on a table littered with empty beer bottles.
"Tell us about it," she commanded.
Sewell’s eyes narrowed. "Are you two from child protective services, or something? Because I’m not taking him back."
Logan grabbed him by the collar. "I’m the guy who’s going to beat the shit out of you if you don’t tell me what happened to my sister."
"I don’t know," Sewell shouted, batting at Logan’s hands. "She didn’t exactly leave a forwarding address. I came home one day last year, and she and the kid were gone, along with all my cash and all my coke."
Veronica put a hand on Logan’s arm, surprised at the tension she felt running through him. "Logan, let him talk for a second."
Logan released him, and Sewell rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, taking a step back. His apartment was shabby but relatively clean, although it stank of tobacco. Percy seemed perfectly comfortable perched on the table. He reached out a hand and tipped a beer bottle, watching with interest as it started rolling. Veronica sincerely hoped empty alcohol containers weren’t his only toys when he lived here.
"We’re just looking for some information," Veronica explained. "Trina’s missing."
"Here’s what I know," Sewell said, eyes darting between them. "She was pregnant when I met her. She told me she was Aaron Echolls’ daughter and that she could help me land a deal for one of my scripts if I let her live with me and played guardian to the kid. She stayed for three months, had the baby, and then was in and out after that. She’d just show up, crash with me for a couple weeks, and then disappear. Sometimes she took the kid when she left. Sometimes she didn’t."
Veronica raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like she had a pretty good thing going. Free rent, free babysitting, no strings attached."
Sewell shrugged. "She promised she’d get me a deal eventually. And she’s a good lay."
Logan went stiff as a board next to her. Veronica would really like to sit him down someday and ask him to describe his code of ethics in more detail. It was a screwed up kind of mentality when he could call his sister every name in the book and still feel justified in trying to punch out anyone else who did the same.
"And you don’t know where she went?" Veronica forged on, diverting the conversation away from dangerous territory.
"No. It’s been a year since I’ve seen her, and I still haven’t sold a script."
"Imagine that," Logan said coldly.
"Yeah, well," Sewell shot another nervous glance at Logan, "that’s all I know. I don’t know where she went, and I’m not taking that kid back. I can barely pay the rent as it is."
"I wouldn’t worry about it, Johnny," Logan said grimly. He picked up Percy again, holding him against his body like the entire room was contaminated. He looked so fiercely protective that Veronica felt that shock again, that cold wash of realization that Logan was actually taking responsibility for something. For someone. He started heading for the door.
"Any idea who she might have turned to?" Veronica asked, trying to tear her eyes away from Percy’s arms locked around Logan’s neck.
Sewell smirked. "I’m sure she found another sucker to freeload off of."
"Do you remember her bringing home anyone in particular? Friends, business associates, any names you could give us?"
"No. She went out mostly - she never brought her friends here. But there was one guy who came looking for her a few months after she left. Some guy named Adams."
Logan stopped dead in the doorway and turned slowly. "Adams," he said, and there was something churning in his eyes. Something like dread. "What did he look like?"
Sewell raised an eyebrow at Logan’s sudden intensity. "Big guy. Pretty damn scary. Got all up in my face. I guess Trina owed him money for something." He snorted. "What else is new? I told him exactly what I told you. I don’t know where she went, and I don’t care. That girl’s nothing but trouble."
Veronica handed Sewell a card. "Call me if you think of anything else."
He didn’t even glance at it. His tired eyes followed Logan’s form as he disappeared through the door. "So…that’s the son, huh? Do you think…if I gave you one of my scripts…?"
Veronica didn’t even bother to answer.
Logan was waiting behind the steering wheel, Percy tucked securely in the back "Adams?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "I take it that name means something."
Logan exhaled slowly. "Something."
"Well, who is he?"
"He’s just…someone Trina and I knew."
"Thanks. Much clearer now." He was silent. "Hey, last time I checked, you were the one who hired me. If you want to make this harder by being cryptic…"
"Ezekiel Adams. He’s a dealer," Logan said. "A sort of...scary one."
Her heart sank. "A dealer of cars?" she asked hopefully. "A frighteningly tacky used car salesman?"
"No."
Well, damn.
"Trina and I have both used him in the past, but…" he hesitated, then closed his mouth.
The apprehensive look in his eyes was cutting a path right to her gut. "What are you not telling me?"
"I - nothing." He started the ignition. "I know where we can find him. It’s not too far from here."
He wouldn’t meet her stare, and her entire body was beginning to tingle with unease. "You wouldn’t spring anything on me, right?" she asked. "Because you know how I feel about surprises."
"I’m well acquainted with your trust issues. Believe me."
"You should be. You helped create them."
"It’s nothing, all right?" he snapped. "Let’s just go and see what he knows about Trina."
He was lying through his teeth, and he looked as guilty as a teenager caught sneaking out. But she knew him well enough to realize nothing would make him confess until he was ready. The more questions she asked, the more lies he would tell, and god, she hated how much that still bothered her. He dragged truths out of her so easily, found her weak spots with frightening, unerring accuracy, and she could never seem to do the same to him.
She sat back in her seat and watched his tense profile. Maybe you’re just being paranoid, she told herself. Not believing it for one second. But Trina was still missing, and this was the only lead she had. It was like that goddamn blocked number on the caller ID; she couldn’t help but pick up, even when she knew she would be better off just letting it ring. She was too deep into it now, too committed to this case and this child and, god help her, Logan.
But if anything went wrong, she was going to kill him.
Chapter Six
Author:
sowell
Characters: Logan/Veronica
Word Count: 3,660
Rating: R, for language
Summary: 5 years after graduation, Logan comes back to Neptune to ask Veronica for help.
Spoilers: Spoiled through 2.22
Disclaimer: I don't own them, Rob Thomas does. But if he's in a giving mood....
Notes: Long-ish chapter. Slightly depressing, maybe. I dunno - this fic seems to want to go in a slightly darker direction than I'd planned.
Read it at
veronicamarsfic
One...Two...Three...Four
Five
Logan was a little fuzzy on whether he had actually intended for Veronica to find him in bed with another girl five years ago. He remembered that she’d been distant for weeks. Her reasons included, but were not limited to: he drank too much, he had no ambition, he was too possessive, he had a death wish, etc., etc. After the first few weeks of college she stopped trying to convince him to apply to school. During the second month she stopped coming directly to his hotel suite after class. By the third month he was lucky if he got a few phone calls a week. He tried so hard to hold on to her, but she was sand in his fist. It seemed he never learned.
They’d had a particularly nasty fight revolving around him taking a swing at some asshole that was hitting on her. He wasn’t pissed at the asshole; he was pissed because Veronica was smiling at the asshole, wide and pert, like she hadn’t smiled at him for a month. That weekend Veronica had implored him to come out to dinner with her; they needed to talk. He was pretty sure he’d overturn every table in the restaurant if he had to listen to her cut him out of her life one more time. Instead of keeping their dinner date, he spent the night at the hotel bar, looking for someone he wanted to sleep with that didn’t remind him of Veronica. It took some effort, but he found her. Tall, curvy, dark-haired - Jessica Rabbit in the flesh. Just the thing to prove to himself that he could survive the next thirty or forty years without Veronica Mars.
He’d been stumbling drunk, so he could never quite remember if he meant to be caught. Logan thought he was just enough of a prick that he probably did. Take that, you heartless bitch. When he saw Veronica’s white face in the morning, he knew. There was no apologizing his way out of it with heartfelt confessions and tears, no making amends with flowers and candy and promises. He had two options. He could stay in Neptune and become that guy again - that guy Lilly turned him into, slobbering drunk on her doorstep, crying and begging to be taken back. Lilly always took him back because, deep down, he knew she enjoyed the power she had over him. Veronica didn’t play those kinds of games, even when he wanted her to.
Or he could leave. He could go someplace where no one had ever met Lilly Kane and no one had ever heard of Veronica Mars. He’d been a fucking idiot, of course, thinking he would ever actually get away from Neptune, but he hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly at the time. He’d just lost the last thing he gave a shit about, and Dick had urged him to come to LA. Why the fuck not? he thought. He stayed for a week, and realized he didn’t ever have to go back.
If only Trina could have kept her pants on.
*****
The first thing he saw when he entered the parking lot the next morning was Keith Mars, leaning up against Logan’s brand new SUV, wearing a terrifying smile. Logan faltered for a second, but Percy was half asleep in his arms, and what was he going to do, run?
"I thought we should have a chat," Keith said, running his fingers over the hood of his car with a precision that had Logan thinking of snapping bones.
"Yippee," Logan muttered. He unlocked the doors and slumped Percy in the driver’s seat, then got the brand new car seat he’d purchased yesterday out of the trunk, feeling Keith’s eyes follow him.
He ripped open the top of the cardboard packaging. "As much as I’d love to rehash old times, I’d prefer we not to this next to my new car. Blood on the upholstery and all that."
Keith’s grin merely widened, and Logan felt a little frisson of alarm. Shit. He was not Veronica’s boyfriend anymore. He was the fastest, snarkiest, coldest bad boy in LA County, and he would not let Keith Mars reduce him to a sniveling teenager. He set the hard plastic carrier in the back and started jerking the straps around the leather seat to hold it in place.
"Now, what makes you think I’m here for violence?" Keith asked in false bafflement. "Veronica’s an adult; you’re an adult. It would be awfully presumptuous of me to come out here and threaten you. Not to mention illegal."
"So you came out here to smile creepily and not warn me away from Veronica?" Logan asked absently, trying to figure how to tighten the fastenings. The straps that connected diagonally made the whole seat tilt sideways, but the straps that connected horizontally left it hanging so loose that it would be bouncing around every time he hit a speed bump. Jesus, who knew you had to have an engineering degree to install one of these motherfuckers?
"The thing is, Logan - " Keith stopped, distracted by Logan’s struggles. He walked around the front of the car, opened the back door on the passenger side, and reached in to grab the seat.
He continued, "The thing is, Veronica’s worked very hard to get to this point in her life. She’s had a lot to overcome, and I’m proud of her." He calmly flipped the car seat upside down and began efficiently tightening the straps in back. Logan watched dumbly.
"I can’t help but feel this bizarre sense of déjà vu. See, I already know how this story ends, and it’s not good for my daughter. I don’t remember it being particularly pleasant for you, either, so I’m a little confused as to why you’d want to live it again." His eyes were on the seat as he jiggled it to make sure it was properly secured.
Finally Logan said, "This isn’t about Veronica. My sister’s missing. It’s just a business transaction."
Keith gave the seat one last satisfied pat, then climbed out of the back. "That’s what Veronica said. I’m wondering if all the private investigators in LA were on sabbatical this week."
"I…Neptune is Trina’s home."
"I’ll tell you what." Keith dug into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "Here is the number for a Mr. Vincent Vanlowe. His office is two blocks down from ours on Main Street. He’s a perfectly competent investigator, and I’m sure he’ll have lots of luck with your sister."
"I don’t want - "
"I’ll even pay the fee for you," Keith interrupted. "And I’ll break the news to Veronica."
Logan stared down at the card, trapped. He didn’t want someone else to find Trina. He wanted to drive down to LA with Veronica, watching the sun on her hair and her skin, and trying to make her smile.
Keith was studying him closely. "Just business, huh?" he asked softly, and his eyes were pitying despite the threat contained therein.
Instead of answering, Logan grabbed Percy, leaned into the back, and set him in the newly installed car seat. He jumped when Keith clamped a hand on the back of his neck. "I know you’ve had some rough breaks," he said, and his voice was very close to Logan’s ear. "I know your father beat you your whole life, and I’m sorry." The hand tightened. "But if you hurt my daughter again," pause "I will make you long for your father, I promise." Then he was gone.
Logan slumped against the side of the car, pressing his forehead against the window. He felt the responsibility of his sister’s son pressing in on one side, Keith’s threats on the other. And Veronica in the middle, the only person who could pull him out of this hole. He didn’t get the feeling she’d be reaching her hand in any time soon.
*****
Five more minutes and they would have missed each other. But apparently she’d managed to piss off the gods of coincidence in the recent past, because it was Logan at her door at 8AM sharp.
"I said 9 at the office. What are you doing here?"
He was leaning against the wall, just leaning in that posture of practiced insolence that she always associated with him. There was nothing solid about Logan. He was all slippery twists and changing angles, and he could never just straightforwardly present himself like every other human being on the planet. He was either rattling her teeth to get her attention or doing what he was doing now, just draping himself away from her. Very smart and smug and come and get me.
"Well," he said, brushing some lint off his shirt, "you and I both know by 9AM you would’ve been halfway to LA and there would’ve been a piece of paper taped to the office door that said Better luck next time or Sorry I had to fly or something else you thought was clever."
There was a note she’d written that morning wedged in the back pocket of her jeans that said "Logan: Would’ve taken you, but awkward car rides aren’t my thing. Call you when I know something. V." It took all her effort not to reach back and make sure it was still there, that he hadn’t lifted it off her person somehow in the last twenty seconds.
Logan smirked at the expression on her face. He peered over her shoulder into her apartment. "It’s kind of rude not to invite me in, Mars. Didn’t the sheriff teach his baby girl manners?"
Jeff chose that moment to wander through the kitchen, already dressed in his suit and tie for work. Logan’s expression sharpened. The smile that appeared on his face had predatory edge to it, and he was off the wall in a second, shouldering his way into her front hall.
"So this is where you ended up, huh?" He glanced all around in a parody of genuine interest, when he was really being a genuine asshole.
Jeff ambled over to them, fiddling with his tie. "Morning."
Logan pointed at Jeff in a display of delight and recognition. "You must be the boyfriend." He held out a hand. "Nice to meet you."
Jeff looked a little puzzled, but he shook Logan’s hand. "Jeffrey Polkowski. Uh, nice to meet you. You are?"
That spurred Veronica into action. "This is…this is Logan. He’s a client," she said, shooting daggers at Logan in an attempt to keep him quiet.
Logan gave her shoulder a caressing squeeze. "I guess client works as well as any other label."
Jeff stopped tying his tie. He shot her a quizzical look. "You two know each other?"
"Neptune High, Class of ‘06," Logan filled in, oh so helpful. It wasn’t the most damaging thing he could have said. Then again, Jeff wasn’t stupid. He didn’t know the complete history between her and Aaron Echolls’ son, but he knew enough to piece together about a thousand sordid scenarios in his mind.
"Huh," Jeff said, suddenly at full attention. "Then you live in the area."
"Veronica," Logan turned to stare at her in dismay. "I’m a little hurt that our reunion didn’t even make dinner table conversation." He turned back to Jeff. "Temporarily in the area. Veronica’s helping me out with a little…problem."
Veronica wanted to close her eyes and sink into the fake wood floor of her foyer. Jeff was looking at her like he didn’t recognize her, and Logan was smirking, circling them both as he pretended to examine various facets of the wall, the door, the counter.
She turned to Jeff, ignoring Logan. "He needed to drop something off for his case. He was just about to leave."
"Sure," Logan said airily. "I’ll wait in the car."
Jeff resumed his attention to his neckwear, tugging a little harder on the silk. "You two spending the day together?"
"No," she said, at the same time Logan said "Yes."
"Interesting," said Jeff. He grabbed his work bag from the counter. He usually left her with a kiss on the cheek. Today he put a hand on her waist and kissed her on the mouth, long and lingering and possessive enough to make her back stiffen. She didn’t look at Logan’s reaction, because she didn’t care. Jeff broke away and gave her a look that said, "We will be talking about this."
Out loud he said, "Call you tonight." He shot a tight, "Good luck with that problem," at Logan. Logan responded with a pert little wave.
Veronica watched him go, then glanced up at Logan. He was staring at her left hand. "No ring today," he said, face smooth and unreadable. He pushed past her and headed for the parking lot.
Veronica stopped short when she saw Percy, strapped into a car seat in the back of Logan’s SUV. "You said you were getting a babysitter," she said dangerously.
Logan shrugged. "I lied." He rolled his eyes at her. "Chill the fuck out, supermom. He’ll be fine."
She climbed in the passenger seat and slammed the door. "If you insist on going it would be smarter to take my car. This thing will get stolen in a second."
"Too bad I don’t ride in cars uglier than a monkey’s butt," he said matter-of-factly, starting the ignition.
They managed five blissful minutes of silence before Logan spoke again. "Soooo…do you think Duncan would be jealous or flattered that you’re engaged to his clone? Just a thought."
She turned on the radio. She was in for the longest road trip of her life.
*****
"Classy," Logan said when they pulled up to the run-down apartment building. It was old LA glamour gone to pot - brick exterior, front awning, and wide, spacious windows, all chipping and covered over with about ten years’ worth of dust. It looked like it may have been a hotel at some point, probably in the 1950’s when it was built. Now it held apartments for newcomers to LA, struggling to get their foot in the door of some facet of the entertainment industry or another.
"Stay in the car," she told Logan.
"You know, the word ‘please’ works wonders."
"Please stay in the car, jackass."
"Yeah…not even if you paid me. Although I might reconsider for sexual favors."
They ended up in front of Mr. Jonathan Sewell’s door together with Logan balancing Percy on his shoulders and Veronica clutching her taser at the ready. She needn’t have bothered. The man that opened the door was middle-aged, thin, balding, and nervous. He froze when he saw Percy.
"Hi!" Percy chirped, looking at Sewell.
"I think you may have misplaced this," Veronica said, smiling sweetly.
"Where’s Trina?" Sewell asked, glancing around uneasily.
Hmm, not a promising start.
Logan toed the door open and Sewell let them in without protest.
"Look, the kid isn’t mine," he said desperately.
"Funny, he has your last name."
"That’s because Trina Echolls is a lying little junkie of a whore." She glanced at Logan, but Logan’s face was remote as he set Percy down on a table littered with empty beer bottles.
"Tell us about it," she commanded.
Sewell’s eyes narrowed. "Are you two from child protective services, or something? Because I’m not taking him back."
Logan grabbed him by the collar. "I’m the guy who’s going to beat the shit out of you if you don’t tell me what happened to my sister."
"I don’t know," Sewell shouted, batting at Logan’s hands. "She didn’t exactly leave a forwarding address. I came home one day last year, and she and the kid were gone, along with all my cash and all my coke."
Veronica put a hand on Logan’s arm, surprised at the tension she felt running through him. "Logan, let him talk for a second."
Logan released him, and Sewell rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, taking a step back. His apartment was shabby but relatively clean, although it stank of tobacco. Percy seemed perfectly comfortable perched on the table. He reached out a hand and tipped a beer bottle, watching with interest as it started rolling. Veronica sincerely hoped empty alcohol containers weren’t his only toys when he lived here.
"We’re just looking for some information," Veronica explained. "Trina’s missing."
"Here’s what I know," Sewell said, eyes darting between them. "She was pregnant when I met her. She told me she was Aaron Echolls’ daughter and that she could help me land a deal for one of my scripts if I let her live with me and played guardian to the kid. She stayed for three months, had the baby, and then was in and out after that. She’d just show up, crash with me for a couple weeks, and then disappear. Sometimes she took the kid when she left. Sometimes she didn’t."
Veronica raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like she had a pretty good thing going. Free rent, free babysitting, no strings attached."
Sewell shrugged. "She promised she’d get me a deal eventually. And she’s a good lay."
Logan went stiff as a board next to her. Veronica would really like to sit him down someday and ask him to describe his code of ethics in more detail. It was a screwed up kind of mentality when he could call his sister every name in the book and still feel justified in trying to punch out anyone else who did the same.
"And you don’t know where she went?" Veronica forged on, diverting the conversation away from dangerous territory.
"No. It’s been a year since I’ve seen her, and I still haven’t sold a script."
"Imagine that," Logan said coldly.
"Yeah, well," Sewell shot another nervous glance at Logan, "that’s all I know. I don’t know where she went, and I’m not taking that kid back. I can barely pay the rent as it is."
"I wouldn’t worry about it, Johnny," Logan said grimly. He picked up Percy again, holding him against his body like the entire room was contaminated. He looked so fiercely protective that Veronica felt that shock again, that cold wash of realization that Logan was actually taking responsibility for something. For someone. He started heading for the door.
"Any idea who she might have turned to?" Veronica asked, trying to tear her eyes away from Percy’s arms locked around Logan’s neck.
Sewell smirked. "I’m sure she found another sucker to freeload off of."
"Do you remember her bringing home anyone in particular? Friends, business associates, any names you could give us?"
"No. She went out mostly - she never brought her friends here. But there was one guy who came looking for her a few months after she left. Some guy named Adams."
Logan stopped dead in the doorway and turned slowly. "Adams," he said, and there was something churning in his eyes. Something like dread. "What did he look like?"
Sewell raised an eyebrow at Logan’s sudden intensity. "Big guy. Pretty damn scary. Got all up in my face. I guess Trina owed him money for something." He snorted. "What else is new? I told him exactly what I told you. I don’t know where she went, and I don’t care. That girl’s nothing but trouble."
Veronica handed Sewell a card. "Call me if you think of anything else."
He didn’t even glance at it. His tired eyes followed Logan’s form as he disappeared through the door. "So…that’s the son, huh? Do you think…if I gave you one of my scripts…?"
Veronica didn’t even bother to answer.
Logan was waiting behind the steering wheel, Percy tucked securely in the back "Adams?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "I take it that name means something."
Logan exhaled slowly. "Something."
"Well, who is he?"
"He’s just…someone Trina and I knew."
"Thanks. Much clearer now." He was silent. "Hey, last time I checked, you were the one who hired me. If you want to make this harder by being cryptic…"
"Ezekiel Adams. He’s a dealer," Logan said. "A sort of...scary one."
Her heart sank. "A dealer of cars?" she asked hopefully. "A frighteningly tacky used car salesman?"
"No."
Well, damn.
"Trina and I have both used him in the past, but…" he hesitated, then closed his mouth.
The apprehensive look in his eyes was cutting a path right to her gut. "What are you not telling me?"
"I - nothing." He started the ignition. "I know where we can find him. It’s not too far from here."
He wouldn’t meet her stare, and her entire body was beginning to tingle with unease. "You wouldn’t spring anything on me, right?" she asked. "Because you know how I feel about surprises."
"I’m well acquainted with your trust issues. Believe me."
"You should be. You helped create them."
"It’s nothing, all right?" he snapped. "Let’s just go and see what he knows about Trina."
He was lying through his teeth, and he looked as guilty as a teenager caught sneaking out. But she knew him well enough to realize nothing would make him confess until he was ready. The more questions she asked, the more lies he would tell, and god, she hated how much that still bothered her. He dragged truths out of her so easily, found her weak spots with frightening, unerring accuracy, and she could never seem to do the same to him.
She sat back in her seat and watched his tense profile. Maybe you’re just being paranoid, she told herself. Not believing it for one second. But Trina was still missing, and this was the only lead she had. It was like that goddamn blocked number on the caller ID; she couldn’t help but pick up, even when she knew she would be better off just letting it ring. She was too deep into it now, too committed to this case and this child and, god help her, Logan.
But if anything went wrong, she was going to kill him.
Chapter Six