Chapter 4: In Pursuit of Pussy
Title: All Fall Down
Pairing / Character: Veronica/Logan, Keith
Rating: PG-13 to R
Words: ~26,000
Summary: In Neptune, the brighter the summer sun, the deeper the shadows.
Spoilers / Warnings: Seasons 1 and 2 / Language and adult situations
Chapter 4: In Pursuit of Pussy
Author: jaggedreality & queen_haq
Additional Characters: Wallace, Colleen Sharpe, John Sharpe
Rating: R
Words: ~7000
Author’s Note: All Fall Down is a collaborative effort by 19 writers. You can learn more about this project here. Huge thanks to truemyth, sarah_p and mutinousmuse for the beta job. Dedicated to my very own, just-as-good-if-not-better-than-naked!Logan muse, carminaburana
X-posted to fic_from_mars and veronicamarsfic.
All Fall Down
Chapter 4
In Pursuit of Pussy
Veronica sat at her desk in Mars Investigations, listening to the deafening tick of the clock. With each passing hour, the strain between the two members of the Mars family was inching closer to the breaking point. Three days. It had been three days since the body of Frank Romano was found inside of that dingy room at the Camelot. She shuddered as she remembered the lifeless eyes of the man, long-forgotten, staring into nothingness.
The two occupants of the office were so quiet that the constant hum of the refrigerator sounded more like a buzz saw. The water dripping in the sink was akin to hail on a tin roof. Walking over to the source of the noise, she inspected the faucet and made a mental note to stop by and pick up a washer so she could fix it. Glancing down at the dirty dishes, she noticed water had combined with some ketchup to form a small pool that reminded her of Frank’s blood.
After they’d walked in and found Frank’s body, blood forming in a large pool around his head, Veronica had frozen in place, unable to make her legs move. Logan, fortunately, had the presence of mind to wrap a hand around her arm and drag her out of the room before she could shake free of her trance and begin examining the scene. They made it to the other side of the tape before Lamb or one of his deputies found them inside of the room.
Standing inert, she gazed off in the direction that her father had driven. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea that Keith Mars had fled the scene of a crime. She knew without hesitation that her father had not committed the act but she also knew without a doubt that he had been in the room, and had been the one to call the police.
What she didn’t know or understand was how her father could just leave the scene of his friend’s murder. Why he would need to take off? Was Frank somehow connected to the odd behavior Keith had been displaying recently? Had he remained at the Camelot long enough to give a statement to the police, or had he run out before being seen? There were too many questions and not nearly enough answers.
Grabbing Logan’s arm, she steered them back to the XTerra. Once inside, she pulled out her phone and dialed her father’s number. Keith answered her call after a few rings.
“Hey honey, how was the party? Did you get the bug planted on Mrs. Sharpe?”
“The bug is in place,” she answered quietly, choosing not to rehash the evening’s events at the moment.
“Good. That’s good.”
“So, what are you doing?” she inquired.
“I’m at the office trying to wrap up some paperwork,” he answered smoothly.
Veronica’s eyes filled with tears and her heart felt like a weight in her chest as her father blatantly lied to her. Clearing her throat, she told him that she was going to Logan’s to watch a movie, and would probably just crash on his couch. Expecting her dad to be upset at the thought of her spending the night with her boyfriend, she was devastated when he instead wished her a good night, relief evident in his voice when he heard she would not be coming home.
Hanging up, she turned to Logan, who was eyeing her with concern. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask if it was okay if I came over. I couldn’t think of anything else to say to him.”
“Veron -”
“Veronica!” Keith’s yell pulled her from her reverie. “Can you bring me the Collins’ file?”
Moving away from the sink, she grabbed the file, walked into Keith’s office and set it on the desk. Without saying a word she started to walk away, but stopped herself. It was now or never.
“Have you heard anything else about Frank’s death?” she asked, watching his face closely for some kind of tell.
“Lamb thinks it was probably a jealous husband,” Keith said with a shrug, looking down at the papers. “Frank wasn’t exactly known for being very bright when it came to the ladies. I imagine he picked up some woman, took her back to the motel, and the woman’s husband didn’t take too kindly to it.”
Veronica was taken aback at her father’s casual dismissal of his former partner’s death. Skeptical that a jealous husband had been behind the murder - it was way too professional - she pressed harder. “Since when do you agree with Lamb? Your ex-partner suddenly appears in town and ends up murdered, and you think it’s just a coincidence?”
Keith let out a loud sigh, clearly feeling put-upon. “Veronica, not everything is a vast conspiracy or has some elaborate scheme behind it. Sometimes good people make foolish mistakes, and as a result, bad things happen to them.”
“But-”
“Veronica, I said drop it,” Keith snapped. “There’s nothing going on.”
“Fine,” she replied sullenly. She was getting tired of her father avoiding her questions. She walked back to the outer office but his voice stopped her before she was out of the room.
“I haven’t had time yet to do much on the Colleen Sharpe case and her husband wants an update soon. Would you have time to follow her for a day or two? Try to get the money shot?”
Veronica turned and shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll follow Pussy tomorrow.”
“Come again?” he smirked. “Have you been watching the Sopranos on marathon again? I thought we discussed the whole talking like gangsters thing.”
Veronica rolled her eyes before answering. Enunciating clearly as if speaking to a small child, she replied. “Colleen Sharpe is Pussy. It’s her husband’s nickname for her.”
“Who calls their wife Pussy?”
“Considering all the Buffys and Muffys, Pussy fits right in. No one ever said the rich were normal,” she countered with a shake of her head. “I need to get going. I’m due at the Hut in an hour.”
“Have fun,” he offered in a placating manner.
Veronica nodded and left the room without answering.
“Oh Veronica,” Keith called again. When she looked at him he asked, “Are you going out with Logan after work?”
“I don’t know. I’ll call if I won’t be home. After all, I wouldn’t want you to worry about my whereabouts,” she snarked.
She knew it was petty, but she felt a certain amount of satisfaction when she noticed Keith clench his jaw in annoyance. Nevertheless, that satisfaction was quickly replaced with guilt over antagonizing the man who had raised her.
“I’ll be home but it’ll probably be late,” she reassured him with a strained smile. He nodded slightly at her and she returned to the reception area. Picking up her bag, she turned, and with one last glance at her father hunched over his desk, left without another word.
Veronica stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself. She was already running late for work as it was, and when her cell phone started ringing, she couldn’t help but be annoyed. The feeling didn’t last long as she realized who was calling; no one else she knew would insist on choosing ‘Drop It Like It’s Hot’ as their signature ring tone.
“You lucky boy. I’m just about to drop my towel like it’s hot,” Veronica teased. Even though Wallace had been at Hearst Basketball Camp for only a short time, she already missed him. At least this time around she knew his whereabouts and he did return her calls… occasionally.
“V, I thought we already had the talk about you ruining my hot blonde fantasies. First the bathroom, and now phone sex. What am I gonna do with you?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
Wallace laughed. “So, what’s going on? Whose chops are you busting this week?”
“I’ve been too busy to indulge in any chopping.”
“Shouldn’t you be talking to Logan about that?” Wallace joked, entertained by the innuendo.
“No point. He’s far too amused with the prospect of me following Pussy.”
“Pussy, huh? Starting the wild college thing early, V?”
Ignoring his comment, she changed the topic. “Basketball keeping you busy, Mr. Hot Shot? I called you like twice last week.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re almost verging on psycho ex-girlfriend territory.”
“I don’t like this ‘almost’ business; it’s so half-assed,” she quipped. “Tell me you have a bunny I can cook, and I’ll rectify that situation.”
“Ew and ew,” Wallace commented, and Veronica could picture the half-smile on his face. “What’s up? Why have you been harassing me?”
“What electives are you taking next year? I was hoping we could take a class together.”
“I thought the whole college experience was about making new friends. You’ve gotta expand your horizons, Veronica.”
“Hey, I’m not giving you up that easily,” she retorted, half-mocking, half-sincere. “So, spill! What classes are you registering for?”
“No clue,” Wallace replied. “It’s summer! Don’t you have anything better to obsess about? We have months before we have to think about that stuff.”
“It must be the water in Neptune that makes you guys so lazy,” she muttered, remembering the similar discussion she had with Logan.
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
“I gotta go.”
“Plans with your groupies?”
“Hell yeah!”
She chuckled. “Just remember: no glove, no love.”
“Don’t you worry, Veronica. My momma didn’t raise no fool.”
A few seconds after she hung up, she was still smiling. Some days it seemed that Wallace was as comforting as a tub of cookie dough ice cream.
Veronica raised her camera to snap pictures of Colleen Sharpe as she entered yet another office building. After three days of following the woman, Veronica was bored to death. How many office buildings could one woman, who didn’t work, possibly visit?
At first, she suspected the woman might be seeking out a divorce lawyer, but it was evident from all the shopping and expensive possessions that she enjoyed the money that came with being Mrs. John Sharpe. It seemed when Pussy wasn’t visiting random professional buildings around Neptune, she was shopping, at the gym, or at the spa.
Veronica thought it must be nice to have enough money to keep busy doing absolutely nothing all day, every day. She suspected that she would quickly grow bored with that kind of lifestyle. Maybe she’d ask Logan how he managed it.
After ten minutes of waiting in her car, Veronica was getting restless and needed to stretch. Deciding Pussy would probably be at least another half hour, Veronica went into the latest building to see if she could figure out who her quarry was going to visit.
Veronica had been disappointed over the last few days to discover that Colleen wasn’t using the same purse that she’d had at the party. Most likely, Colleen had an inordinate amount of purses, and unlike most women, she must not have switched the contents of one to another, rendering the bug Logan had planted useless.
Perusing the building directory, Veronica didn’t find any office that stood out as a possible destination for a trophy wife. From what she could tell, most of the occupants were doctors and dentists. Having witnessed the woman’s already perfect smile first-hand, Veronica was fairly certain she wasn’t visiting one of the dentists. As she had done in the last few buildings, she pulled a pad of paper from her bag and added a few of the doctors’ names to a rapidly growing list so she could look them up later.
Glancing at her watch, Veronica realized more time had passed than she thought. She turned around, intending to go back to her car, when she collided with someone else.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Veronica apologized as she bent down and picked up the other woman’s fallen purse. Handing it to the woman, she was startled when she looked up into the child-like features of none other than Colleen Sharpe.
The young woman frowned momentarily before clearing her face and offering a phony smile to Veronica. “Oh hello. It’s nice to see you again, Miss-”
“Mars. Veronica Mars,” she reminded Pussy. Mentally slapping herself, Veronica reminded herself that the woman’s name was Colleen. Colleen should not be that difficult of a name to remember.
“Oh yes. I’m sorry, I’m just terrible with names,” she giggled. “John is always teasing me about not being able to remember things.”
Veronica gave her what she hoped was a convincing smile. “That’s okay. I’m terrible with names, too,” she lied. Working as a detective the last few years had fine-tuned Veronica’s memory, a fact for which her boyfriend was not usually thankful.
“So, who are you here to see?”
Thinking fast, Veronica picked the first name that she could remember from the directory. “I had an appointment with Dr. Peete.”
“Oh, he’s good. He did Suzie Enbom’s implants a few years ago. You can hardly tell they aren’t real. I’m sure he’ll do a great job on yours.”
Veronica was well aware that she was flat-chested, but she didn’t need some blonde bimbo, trophy wife suggesting she get implants. However, knowing she had to go along with her given excuse, she smiled tightly and answered through clenched teeth. “I’m just here for a consultation. Nothing definite yet.”
“Oh, I understand. I’m sure your boyfriend will absolutely love them. We do what we must to keep our men happy,” she continued innocently.
If her grin got any tighter, Veronica feared her face would stick in that position. Before she was forced to say anything more, Colleen looked down at her watch, which Veronica thought could probably pay her tuition at Hearst for a few years, and announced she had to leave. Blowing air kisses as she ran out the door, she left Veronica standing rooted to her spot.
Looking down at her chest, Veronica briefly wondered what she would look like with implants. Logan had certainly never complained about her breast size; he actually seemed quite pleased any time he got to see them. Shaking her head at her own musings, she headed for the same door Pussy - Colleen - had breezed through moments before.
She might do a lot of things to try and make Logan happy but there was no way in hell she would ever get implants for a guy. Unless, of course, the guy was someone drop-dead gorgeous like Jensen Ackles, in which case, she might reconsider.
Veronica sat in the LeBaron outside Neptune’s hottest new restaurant, Jaded. Logan had asked to take her there for dinner, but she had refused. Everyone already thought she was a gold digger - she had no need to further their suspicions. He had been offended and huffed that he might just go by himself. She had tried to reason with him, explaining that fancy restaurants weren’t her thing, but he’d been in a snit and refused to listen.
Normally Veronica wouldn’t follow Colleen on the evenings she was with her husband, but there was something about the couple’s behavior that felt off. She had no real reason to follow them other than sheer curiosity and a gut feeling. Having met her a few times now, Veronica couldn’t imagine Colleen cheating on her husband. Maybe if she saw them interact, though, she’d have a better idea of what made Colleen’s husband think otherwise. Plans for any covert ops to get inside of the restaurant were rendered unnecessary when Colleen arrived with the same purse she had at the party, allowing Veronica to listen in on the couple’s conversation.
So far, things were a bust. There had mostly been idle talk about John’s day and gossip about the St. John’s party the previous week. Mr. St. John had already filed for divorce and kicked Lydia to the curb. She had tried to check into the Neptune Grand only to find her credit cards had been canceled. The soon-to-be ex-Mrs. St. John was now residing at the Camelot Motel. Her lover, Pedro, had been anonymously reported as an illegal immigrant to the INS a few days after the party and had already been deported.
By 10 p.m., Veronica was ready to give up on learning anything new about the Sharpes. The only thing she had found out thus far was the result of a few men stopping by to say hello to Colleen and John. From the conversation, she ascertained that they were plastic surgeons. It had taken Veronica a few minutes, but she eventually recognized one of their names from the lobby directory of one of the office buildings Colleen had visited when she followed her, and Veronica realized the woman must be planning to have work done by multiple doctors.
Realizing that there was probably no affair, Veronica was about to start her car and leave when she saw Logan walk out of the restaurant. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she noticed the brunette attached to his arm. Before her imagination could go too far, an older man walked out of the restaurant, and the woman turned to him with a bright smile. Kissing Logan lightly on the cheek, she walked over to the other man, who wrapped an arm around her. As the valet appeared with Logan’s XTerra, a few more words and a handshake were exchanged before her boyfriend drove away.
Once Logan was gone, Veronica snapped a few pictures of the couple and their car. With the close-up provided by the zoom lens of her camera, she identified the couple as a director friend of Lynn Echolls’ and his wife. She had met them briefly at Aaron’s funeral, but hadn’t realized Logan kept in touch with them.
With a shrug, Veronica once again prepared to start her car. Before she could turn the key in the ignition, the conversation still coming through the bug stopped her cold.
“So what did you do today?” John had asked suddenly, his manner more challenging than curious.
Veronica thought it was a little strange that the man waited until dinner was almost over to ask his wife about her day. Most people would have asked much earlier.
Pussy laughed lightly. “Oh just the usual; visiting the spa, shopping.”
“Are you sure -”
“Excuse me,” the waiter interrupted. “Can I interest you in anything else? We have a lovely selection of desserts.”
Veronica couldn’t be sure but she could have sworn that Pussy started to say something when her husband interrupted.
“I’ll have a piece of the fudge cake and some coffee but my wife will skip dessert. She doesn’t need anything fattening,” John instructed the waiter.
“Yes sir.”
It was silent for a moment. “John I -”
“What have I told you about sugar, Pussy? Indulging in it will only lead to weight gain, especially with your sweet tooth. You wouldn’t want to get fat would you?”
“No John, of course not.”
“Have you been going to the gym and sticking to your diet? You look like you’ve gained a few pounds and your eyes look like they’re starting to wrinkle. You need to be taking better care of yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” Veronica heard Pussy apologize. “I wasn’t feeling well last week and skipped a few workouts.”
“I would hate to see you let yourself go. I thought we already discussed the consequences of that,” he stated, his tone menacing.
“I know. I’m so sorry. I swear I won’t let it happen again,” she continued, attempting to placate him.
After a few more minutes of listening to John continue to subtly berate his wife and Colleen’s constant apologies, Veronica tuned out the conversation. She couldn’t believe that a man who acted so attentive and loving towards his wife at the party a week ago was being such an asshole now. How anyone could consider the young woman fat or old was beyond her comprehension. She may have been in her early twenties, but she didn’t look a day over sixteen, and there wasn’t anything on that body that jiggled.
Finally, the couple finished dinner and left the restaurant. Veronica watched them stand sedately, with John’s hand clamped tightly around his wife’s wrist like a manacle. When the car arrived, John didn’t lead so much as jerk his wife towards it.
Veronica normally considered herself a good judge of character. Her skeptical side left her a little too jaded at times but the Sharpes certainly had fooled her. She bought the enamored couple act they displayed at the party just like everyone else. The dinner conversation she had just listened in on had wholly snatched away that illusion, though.
Too disgusted to listen to any more, Veronica turned off the listening device and started the car. She felt the urge to go home and shower, hoping the hot water would wash away the crawling sensation that overtook her flesh, a feeling of such unease that she’d only felt it a few times before.
There was definitely something to be said about the spacious backseat of an XTerra. Sure, the color of Logan’s SUV was bright enough that even a blind man could spot it - from a mile away, at night, while being distracted by fifteen nearly-naked strippers - but at least it was comfortable; that was more than she could say for her LeBaron.
Currently, she was on top of Logan and straddling him - her favorite position. And, from the deep vibrations currently coming from his throat, probably his as well. As usual, her hands were curved around his neck while his…well, his were everywhere. One moment, they were circling her waist and the next, his fingers were trailing up her spine, working their way beneath the thin layers of her clothing. When it came to undressing her, he was definitely dedicated to the cause.
Of course, as soon as his lips met hers, she stopped thinking altogether.
It was like it always was. Rushed and frenzied. His mouth - God, his fucking mouth - she didn’t know how one kiss could make her feel like this. How it turned her insides into liquid and made her cling to him as if he was the only thing that could save her.
Logan maneuvered her closer, if that was even possible, and she felt exactly how excited he was. Wiggling on his lap, and relishing the near-feral growls she inspired, she shoved him playfully, knowing he would clutch her even tighter.
It worked.
Her back was now against a door. He was fighting the laws of physics, or so it seemed, to get closer to her while she pulled at him to do the same.
Pushing and pulling. It seemed that was the one constant in their relationship.
“Fuck,” he muttered breathlessly.
“What?”
“Did you have to wear so many fucking layers? You’re dressed like we’re in the middle of the Arctic.”
“We’re not? No Eskimo kisses?” She mocked playfully, batting her eyelashes at him before she rubbed her nose against his.
He smirked. His clever fingers raced down her chest, and he unbuttoned her over-shirt within a span of seconds.
She bit back her smile, seeing the eager look on his face, which resembled a kid in a candy store. Of course, when the grin on his face soon turned cocky, probably because he was proud he’d gotten through one layer so soon, she decided to show him who, exactly, was the boss.
This time when she shoved him, it was more aggressive than playful. He fell back, pulling her with him, but she swiftly gained control. She looked down at him with a mischievous smile.
“That hurt,” he whined, rubbing the spot she’d exerted pressure on.
“Good.” Leaning down, her mouth latched onto his, and their game began all over again: the fight for control, the push to see who would drive the other one crazier.
Eventually, despite her not-so-best efforts, she ended up underneath him, panting for air, her fingers digging into his back as he sucked on the sensitive spot on her neck.
With her eyes closed, her body wrapped around his, she felt him remove her t-shirt. When her eyelids fluttered open, she found him staring down at her breasts in near-worshipful contemplation.
The only time he was ever speechless around her was when she was naked in front of him. She was happy to note her breasts, small or not, always seemed to have that effect on him. “I’m not getting any younger.”
He snapped out of his stupor and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “But you’ll always be perky.”
Before she could fire back a clever retort, his fingers brushed across her nipples. She bit her lip, holding in both her words and her gasp of pleasure as she arched against him, and he continued his tender assault.
Logan was very proficient when it came to ensuring she couldn’t keep a coherent thought in her head. Just when she was about to regain a semblance of control, despite his fingers continuously roving across her, he changed his pattern. Now his tongue joined the game, lavishing attention on her breasts, rendering her unable to think once again.
As he trailed wet kisses down her body, she held onto him with one hand, her fingers laced through his. It was when he was poised above her waist, his eyes glazed with desire, that he met her gaze. It was that look that always thrilled her. Scared her. Made her feel like she was falling into an abyss with only him to hold onto.
His mouth was open, stark desire reflected on his face. With expert fingers, he started to unbuckle her belt with his free hand.
And that’s when she froze. Images and sounds of Cassidy unbuckling his belt, one of many she’d conjured up over the last few weeks and had tried to bury into the recesses of her brain, were threatening to spill over, causing bile to rise in her throat.
Logan must have sensed the immediate tension in her body, because he stopped and looked at her, concern creasing his brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He didn’t look convinced. “What’s going on in that brain of yours?”
When she didn’t respond, he moved closer to her, cradling her face in his hands.
“Plotting evil schemes to take me down? Maybe,” he gave her a mischievous look. “You’re contemplating a surprising, below the belt move?”
A small smile formed across her face. “Telling you about it would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?”
“Don’t tell me stalking Pussy is making you have second thoughts about the male sex,” he quipped, kissing the tip of her nose. “Sucking takes a lot more work than blowing, you know.”
“Ha!” Even to her own ears, her response sounded weak. “No, it’s not Pussy.”
He waited for her to elaborate on why she was holding back, but she wasn’t in the mood for a long talk. Knowing Logan, he wouldn’t be happy with a half-assed excuse, and the last thing she wanted to do was discuss Cassidy.
As it became obvious to him that there was going to be no explanation offered, Logan appeared more and more frustrated. Eventually, he sat up and she began to dress herself. She felt him examining her every move, but refused to look at him.
“Talk to me, Veronica.”
“It’s late. I have to work early tomorrow.”
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, he leaned in closer. “It’s about -”
“Don’t.” Her voice was cold.
“And here I thought -”
“That’s your problem. You shouldn’t think.”
“So you prefer a man of action, then? I could impregnate a soon-to-be comatose goody-two shoes, kidnap her baby, and disappear. Would that work?”
Finally meeting his gaze, she responded in a frosty tone. “Take me home, Logan.”
She moved quickly into the passenger seat, Logan following her to the front of the car. As they drove home, the air was thick with tension. He occasionally glanced at her while she stared straight ahead, emotionless. He was pissed off, that much was obvious, since he was driving too fast. At one point he even started swearing at the car in front of them because they dared to slow down for a changing light, but she still didn’t feel the need to placate him. Especially when it involved baring her soul and bringing up memories she’d just as soon forget. There was exposing yourself, and then there was exposing yourself.
After following her for a few days, Veronica knew Colleen’s schedule like the back of her hand. It was a quarter after noon, and Colleen would be having lunch at Vague. Shuddering at the thought of eating nothing but raw vegetables every single day like Colleen did, Veronica made her way towards the table.
She was about to break the cardinal rule of being a PI. If her father found out what she was about to do, he’d be extremely upset, but she didn’t care. Her conscience was a more difficult thing to deal with than a lecture from Keith Mars.
Colleen was about to bite into something that looked like a miniature thorn when Veronica stood in front of her, suppressing a shudder. “Hey, Colleen.”
The other woman looked up at her with surprise, but soon, recognition set in. “Victoria, how are you?”
“I’m sure she’s great, but I’m actually Veronica.”
“Wow, I’m so sorry. You know I’m horrible with names.”
“That’s okay. Do you mind if I join you, Colleen? I was supposed to meet a friend here, but she ditched me.”
“Not at all. But please, call me Pussy. Everyone else does.”
Veronica took a seat across from her and soon, the waiter came by to give her a menu. Glancing at the prices, she decided water was the only option in her price range.
“Oh, what diet are you on? South Beach? Zone? Cabbage and apple?”
“I prefer lettuce and orange,” Veronica quipped.
“I haven’t heard of that one. Is it working?”
“It doesn’t show?” Veronica mocked disappointment. “And the guidebook said people would be astounded by the change.”
“It takes some time,” Colleen assured sincerely. “But it’s worth it in the end. I’m sure your boyfriend will love the new you.”
Considering she hadn’t seen or heard from him since their fight, Veronica seriously doubted that. Pushing thoughts of Logan aside, Veronica focused her attention back on Colleen, who was rattling on about a Dr. Dickinson.
“John just loves Dr. D’s work. Says he’s one of the best plastic surgeons in the country. You should definitely try to make an appointment with him.”
“I don’t think I can afford Dr. D.”
“Oh.” Colleen looked genuinely upset, as if not having money was the worst tragedy she could imagine. “Sometimes I forget how lucky I am. John… he’s so good to me. He gives me everything I could ever want.”
Yeah, he was definitely a prince, Veronica mused bitterly.
“Do people call you Ronnie?”
“Sometimes. And then I kill them after.”
“You don’t like it?” Colleen asked, surprised. “John says names ending with an ‘e’ sound are much more feminine. It’s why he likes to call me Pussy. He says guys love it.”
“So that’s why Tom’s chasing after Katie,” Veronica joked. “You and John? Have you two been together for a long time?”
“Yes. Our anniversary is coming up in a few months, so I’m getting something really special done for him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve been going to all these doctors because I want to look exactly like I did the day John met me.”
And now it all made sense - the reason Colleen was visiting so many doctors all at once.
“I want it to be a surprise for John. I’m going to tell him I need to visit a friend for few days and then get everything done.”
Seeing Colleen’s enthusiasm about the whole matter made Veronica realize exactly how much control John had over his wife. “Colleen, you’re beautiful. You must know that.”
For the first time, Veronica saw a hint of sadness in Colleen’s smile.
“But I look older than when John met me. He says it’s not fair to him if I let myself go because I’m changing from the person he fell in love with.”
“Do you ever wish your life was different?” So it wasn’t the smoothest of segues but she seriously doubted Colleen would even notice. “I’m going to college in the fall, but sometimes I think I shouldn’t even bother going to school and just get married. Life would be so much more fun.”
“I don’t regret marrying John. He was exactly what I needed at that time in my life.”
It was then Veronica realized nothing she could say would ever make Colleen realize what an ass her husband was, not when she saw John as her savior. Colleen truly believed her husband loved her, and she’d convinced herself everything he did was out of that love. She lived in a bubble, and Veronica didn’t think it was her place to rip Colleen out of it.
“But marriage isn’t for everyone,” Colleen continued, oblivious to Veronica’s inner turmoil. “I think you should definitely do the college thing; you seem really smart.”
“Well, this was great but I have to go now. I’m working in an hour.” Veronica stood up and reached into her bag to pull out a card. “Colleen, if you need anything, like you want to go to the movies, or maybe… I don’t know. You want to talk or whatever, call me. You can reach me anytime at that number.” Smirking, she rolled her eyes. “I have no life.”
Colleen smiled, taking the card from Veronica’s hands. “This was so much fun. We should definitely do it again.”
As Veronica left the restaurant, she pondered Colleen’s life. Sure, Colleen lived in denial, but it was something Veronica could relate to. Sometimes a little denial was the only way a girl could get through day to day.
Veronica was sitting behind her desk, organizing everything into a neat little pile, when John Sharpe, slick as oil, stepped through the door. Flashing a dazzling grin, he approached, and she quickly felt her anger rise. In the last two years she’d already dealt with her share of manipulative, disguised psychotic assholes; she really didn’t want to add one more person to that list.
“Hello.”
Oh, yeah, Colleen’s husband was definitely smooth. He clearly expected her to fawn over his good looks. Instead, she reciprocated with a tight smile, her temper flaring even more when she caught his eyes darting slightly to somewhere below her face, and then back up again. He was checking her out.
“How are you?”
“Peachy,” she answered in a frosty tone. “My dad’s waiting inside for you.”
Luckily, Keith opened the door to his office just then and greeted John with a warm smile. “Mr. Sharpe, you’re just in time. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?”
It pissed her off how civil her father was acting towards John, but Veronica supposed he couldn’t exactly be rude to a client. Especially a well-paying client.
John turned down the offer for a drink and soon entered the inner office. Keith shut the door behind them.
It didn’t escape her notice how often her dad closed that door nowadays. Of course, if one were to ask him, there was nothing out of the ordinary.
Deciding to focus her attention on more useful things, she turned to her laptop. Planet Zowie was always there, her useful and reliable search engine, and as she searched Rosa’s case, the site proved its dependability once again.
As Weevil had correctly assumed, there were only a few articles about the kidnapping. She was reading through them when the door to Keith’s office opened suddenly and John stepped out. Unlike a few minutes ago, the look he greeted her with was not the least bit friendly. Without acknowledging her, he stormed out.
“Guess that went well,” Veronica said sarcastically, looking up at Keith, who stood framed in the doorway.
“He didn’t seem to think we did a good enough job following his wife around. He’s convinced Pus-”
“Don’t say it!”
Keith laughed. “Colleen is cheating on him. I told him there’s no proof of that.”
“And to think she’s running around town trying to be the perfect present for him.”
“Rich people,” Keith sighed. “You can’t kill them -”
“- and when they kill people, you can’t put them away.”
The smile on his face lessened a little, and Veronica felt a prick of guilt.
“Well, I’m running late for an appointment. I’ll see you at home, honey?”
“Sure.”
“Should I get some take-out for us tonight?”
“Whatever.”
Coming closer to her, he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “I love you.”
Instinctively, she softened towards him. “Can you get that extra cheesy garlic bread I like?”
“The really greasy one that pours out oil like it’s a leaking tank in the Middle East?”
“That’s the one.” She smiled.
“Of course. I was going to get that, anyway.”
Veronica stared after Keith when he left, reflecting on how normal everything seemed between them at that moment. Then she remembered Frank and her father’s refusal to talk to her about his ex-partner, and her frustrations resurfaced.
Shaking her thoughts of Keith away, she concentrated her attention back on her laptop. She still had a lot to learn about kidnapping statistics.
A few minutes later, as she scanned through pages and pages of information, a sick feeling arose in the pit of her stomach. According to the Vanished Children's Alliance, every forty seconds another child went missing or was abducted. If that wasn’t frightening enough, the statistics also stated that less than a third of all the kidnapping cases were “stranger-kidnappings” compared to “family-kidnappings” and “acquaintance-kidnappings.”
Continuing her research, she came across all the different types of kidnapping cases. There were the ransom cases, which were apparently almost non-existent now because of the FBI’s diligent stance towards kidnapping. There were the deprogramming kidnappings, a rare practice - well not so rare, since she remembered her own personal experience involving Casey - to convince someone to give up a set of beliefs that the deprogrammer considered harmful. There were child stealings, bride kidnappings… reading it all made her skin crawl.
Unable to take any more, she went back to searching Rosa’s case again.
As she skimmed through the article she found, she once again noted the similarities between Marisol and Rosa’s situations; they lived in the same neighborhood, and even were in the same grade in school at the time of their disappearances. To anyone else that would seem to be more than a coincidence, but to Lamb, unsurprisingly, it didn’t even register as a blip on his radar.
Using Marisol’s name to search, Veronica turned up a few more hits - relatively speaking, of course. Chances were she'd get a hell of a lot more hits on her own name than she would on either Marisol's or Rosa's.
The first few links were articles she’d already read, but there was something that stuck out further down the page. Apparently, Marisol wasn’t the only girl to go missing in 2003; there was also a Tracy Gonzalez who had lived a few miles away from the other two girls. Tracy’s smiling face looked back at Veronica across time, full of joy. It was a school picture, probably the last one Tracy would ever pose for, and sadness washed over Veronica all over again.
The office phone rang just then, breaking her out of her reverie. Relieved to see that it was Keith calling, she answered. “Hey, Dad.”
“I’m pretty sure the greasy garlic bread is killing the environment as we speak. It’s just sitting on the table, taunting me with its deliciousness.”
“I’m just finishing up some stuff. I’ll be home in a few minutes.”
She closed all the windows on her screen, deciding she’d done enough research for one night. Her mind was still reeling with the discovery of Tracy, and she needed time to process all of the new information.
Picking up the Sharpe file Keith had left on her desk, Veronica sifted through the pictures she had taken of Colleen. Since the case was officially closed, she could delete all the pictures of Colleen from her hard drive. The last thing she needed were any more bitter reminders of her inability to help the other woman. While scrolling through the pictures, she came across the ones from when she’d followed Colleen to a mall. Unlike other people, Colleen didn’t shop for clothes at malls; she only stopped by to go to the health food store to pick up weight-loss supplements.
Veronica was about to delete the last set of pictures when something in one of them caught her attention. She hadn’t noticed it before, because frankly, it was a blurry - and thus useless - shot of Colleen. The focus had been mis-set, making the background crisp, and leaving Colleen nothing but a blob of sad color. However, as Veronica stared at the picture now, she couldn’t believe it had escaped her attention.
There, in the far corner of the shot, was a clear image of Lianne Mars.
To Be Continued
Click here for Chapter 3.
Click here for all previous chapters.
Pairing / Character: Veronica/Logan, Keith
Rating: PG-13 to R
Words: ~26,000
Summary: In Neptune, the brighter the summer sun, the deeper the shadows.
Spoilers / Warnings: Seasons 1 and 2 / Language and adult situations
Chapter 4: In Pursuit of Pussy
Author: jaggedreality & queen_haq
Additional Characters: Wallace, Colleen Sharpe, John Sharpe
Rating: R
Words: ~7000
Author’s Note: All Fall Down is a collaborative effort by 19 writers. You can learn more about this project here. Huge thanks to truemyth, sarah_p and mutinousmuse for the beta job. Dedicated to my very own, just-as-good-if-not-better-than-naked!Logan muse, carminaburana
X-posted to fic_from_mars and veronicamarsfic.
All Fall Down
Chapter 4
In Pursuit of Pussy
Veronica sat at her desk in Mars Investigations, listening to the deafening tick of the clock. With each passing hour, the strain between the two members of the Mars family was inching closer to the breaking point. Three days. It had been three days since the body of Frank Romano was found inside of that dingy room at the Camelot. She shuddered as she remembered the lifeless eyes of the man, long-forgotten, staring into nothingness.
The two occupants of the office were so quiet that the constant hum of the refrigerator sounded more like a buzz saw. The water dripping in the sink was akin to hail on a tin roof. Walking over to the source of the noise, she inspected the faucet and made a mental note to stop by and pick up a washer so she could fix it. Glancing down at the dirty dishes, she noticed water had combined with some ketchup to form a small pool that reminded her of Frank’s blood.
After they’d walked in and found Frank’s body, blood forming in a large pool around his head, Veronica had frozen in place, unable to make her legs move. Logan, fortunately, had the presence of mind to wrap a hand around her arm and drag her out of the room before she could shake free of her trance and begin examining the scene. They made it to the other side of the tape before Lamb or one of his deputies found them inside of the room.
Standing inert, she gazed off in the direction that her father had driven. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea that Keith Mars had fled the scene of a crime. She knew without hesitation that her father had not committed the act but she also knew without a doubt that he had been in the room, and had been the one to call the police.
What she didn’t know or understand was how her father could just leave the scene of his friend’s murder. Why he would need to take off? Was Frank somehow connected to the odd behavior Keith had been displaying recently? Had he remained at the Camelot long enough to give a statement to the police, or had he run out before being seen? There were too many questions and not nearly enough answers.
Grabbing Logan’s arm, she steered them back to the XTerra. Once inside, she pulled out her phone and dialed her father’s number. Keith answered her call after a few rings.
“Hey honey, how was the party? Did you get the bug planted on Mrs. Sharpe?”
“The bug is in place,” she answered quietly, choosing not to rehash the evening’s events at the moment.
“Good. That’s good.”
“So, what are you doing?” she inquired.
“I’m at the office trying to wrap up some paperwork,” he answered smoothly.
Veronica’s eyes filled with tears and her heart felt like a weight in her chest as her father blatantly lied to her. Clearing her throat, she told him that she was going to Logan’s to watch a movie, and would probably just crash on his couch. Expecting her dad to be upset at the thought of her spending the night with her boyfriend, she was devastated when he instead wished her a good night, relief evident in his voice when he heard she would not be coming home.
Hanging up, she turned to Logan, who was eyeing her with concern. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask if it was okay if I came over. I couldn’t think of anything else to say to him.”
“Veron -”
“Veronica!” Keith’s yell pulled her from her reverie. “Can you bring me the Collins’ file?”
Moving away from the sink, she grabbed the file, walked into Keith’s office and set it on the desk. Without saying a word she started to walk away, but stopped herself. It was now or never.
“Have you heard anything else about Frank’s death?” she asked, watching his face closely for some kind of tell.
“Lamb thinks it was probably a jealous husband,” Keith said with a shrug, looking down at the papers. “Frank wasn’t exactly known for being very bright when it came to the ladies. I imagine he picked up some woman, took her back to the motel, and the woman’s husband didn’t take too kindly to it.”
Veronica was taken aback at her father’s casual dismissal of his former partner’s death. Skeptical that a jealous husband had been behind the murder - it was way too professional - she pressed harder. “Since when do you agree with Lamb? Your ex-partner suddenly appears in town and ends up murdered, and you think it’s just a coincidence?”
Keith let out a loud sigh, clearly feeling put-upon. “Veronica, not everything is a vast conspiracy or has some elaborate scheme behind it. Sometimes good people make foolish mistakes, and as a result, bad things happen to them.”
“But-”
“Veronica, I said drop it,” Keith snapped. “There’s nothing going on.”
“Fine,” she replied sullenly. She was getting tired of her father avoiding her questions. She walked back to the outer office but his voice stopped her before she was out of the room.
“I haven’t had time yet to do much on the Colleen Sharpe case and her husband wants an update soon. Would you have time to follow her for a day or two? Try to get the money shot?”
Veronica turned and shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll follow Pussy tomorrow.”
“Come again?” he smirked. “Have you been watching the Sopranos on marathon again? I thought we discussed the whole talking like gangsters thing.”
Veronica rolled her eyes before answering. Enunciating clearly as if speaking to a small child, she replied. “Colleen Sharpe is Pussy. It’s her husband’s nickname for her.”
“Who calls their wife Pussy?”
“Considering all the Buffys and Muffys, Pussy fits right in. No one ever said the rich were normal,” she countered with a shake of her head. “I need to get going. I’m due at the Hut in an hour.”
“Have fun,” he offered in a placating manner.
Veronica nodded and left the room without answering.
“Oh Veronica,” Keith called again. When she looked at him he asked, “Are you going out with Logan after work?”
“I don’t know. I’ll call if I won’t be home. After all, I wouldn’t want you to worry about my whereabouts,” she snarked.
She knew it was petty, but she felt a certain amount of satisfaction when she noticed Keith clench his jaw in annoyance. Nevertheless, that satisfaction was quickly replaced with guilt over antagonizing the man who had raised her.
“I’ll be home but it’ll probably be late,” she reassured him with a strained smile. He nodded slightly at her and she returned to the reception area. Picking up her bag, she turned, and with one last glance at her father hunched over his desk, left without another word.
Veronica stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself. She was already running late for work as it was, and when her cell phone started ringing, she couldn’t help but be annoyed. The feeling didn’t last long as she realized who was calling; no one else she knew would insist on choosing ‘Drop It Like It’s Hot’ as their signature ring tone.
“You lucky boy. I’m just about to drop my towel like it’s hot,” Veronica teased. Even though Wallace had been at Hearst Basketball Camp for only a short time, she already missed him. At least this time around she knew his whereabouts and he did return her calls… occasionally.
“V, I thought we already had the talk about you ruining my hot blonde fantasies. First the bathroom, and now phone sex. What am I gonna do with you?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
Wallace laughed. “So, what’s going on? Whose chops are you busting this week?”
“I’ve been too busy to indulge in any chopping.”
“Shouldn’t you be talking to Logan about that?” Wallace joked, entertained by the innuendo.
“No point. He’s far too amused with the prospect of me following Pussy.”
“Pussy, huh? Starting the wild college thing early, V?”
Ignoring his comment, she changed the topic. “Basketball keeping you busy, Mr. Hot Shot? I called you like twice last week.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re almost verging on psycho ex-girlfriend territory.”
“I don’t like this ‘almost’ business; it’s so half-assed,” she quipped. “Tell me you have a bunny I can cook, and I’ll rectify that situation.”
“Ew and ew,” Wallace commented, and Veronica could picture the half-smile on his face. “What’s up? Why have you been harassing me?”
“What electives are you taking next year? I was hoping we could take a class together.”
“I thought the whole college experience was about making new friends. You’ve gotta expand your horizons, Veronica.”
“Hey, I’m not giving you up that easily,” she retorted, half-mocking, half-sincere. “So, spill! What classes are you registering for?”
“No clue,” Wallace replied. “It’s summer! Don’t you have anything better to obsess about? We have months before we have to think about that stuff.”
“It must be the water in Neptune that makes you guys so lazy,” she muttered, remembering the similar discussion she had with Logan.
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
“I gotta go.”
“Plans with your groupies?”
“Hell yeah!”
She chuckled. “Just remember: no glove, no love.”
“Don’t you worry, Veronica. My momma didn’t raise no fool.”
A few seconds after she hung up, she was still smiling. Some days it seemed that Wallace was as comforting as a tub of cookie dough ice cream.
Veronica raised her camera to snap pictures of Colleen Sharpe as she entered yet another office building. After three days of following the woman, Veronica was bored to death. How many office buildings could one woman, who didn’t work, possibly visit?
At first, she suspected the woman might be seeking out a divorce lawyer, but it was evident from all the shopping and expensive possessions that she enjoyed the money that came with being Mrs. John Sharpe. It seemed when Pussy wasn’t visiting random professional buildings around Neptune, she was shopping, at the gym, or at the spa.
Veronica thought it must be nice to have enough money to keep busy doing absolutely nothing all day, every day. She suspected that she would quickly grow bored with that kind of lifestyle. Maybe she’d ask Logan how he managed it.
After ten minutes of waiting in her car, Veronica was getting restless and needed to stretch. Deciding Pussy would probably be at least another half hour, Veronica went into the latest building to see if she could figure out who her quarry was going to visit.
Veronica had been disappointed over the last few days to discover that Colleen wasn’t using the same purse that she’d had at the party. Most likely, Colleen had an inordinate amount of purses, and unlike most women, she must not have switched the contents of one to another, rendering the bug Logan had planted useless.
Perusing the building directory, Veronica didn’t find any office that stood out as a possible destination for a trophy wife. From what she could tell, most of the occupants were doctors and dentists. Having witnessed the woman’s already perfect smile first-hand, Veronica was fairly certain she wasn’t visiting one of the dentists. As she had done in the last few buildings, she pulled a pad of paper from her bag and added a few of the doctors’ names to a rapidly growing list so she could look them up later.
Glancing at her watch, Veronica realized more time had passed than she thought. She turned around, intending to go back to her car, when she collided with someone else.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Veronica apologized as she bent down and picked up the other woman’s fallen purse. Handing it to the woman, she was startled when she looked up into the child-like features of none other than Colleen Sharpe.
The young woman frowned momentarily before clearing her face and offering a phony smile to Veronica. “Oh hello. It’s nice to see you again, Miss-”
“Mars. Veronica Mars,” she reminded Pussy. Mentally slapping herself, Veronica reminded herself that the woman’s name was Colleen. Colleen should not be that difficult of a name to remember.
“Oh yes. I’m sorry, I’m just terrible with names,” she giggled. “John is always teasing me about not being able to remember things.”
Veronica gave her what she hoped was a convincing smile. “That’s okay. I’m terrible with names, too,” she lied. Working as a detective the last few years had fine-tuned Veronica’s memory, a fact for which her boyfriend was not usually thankful.
“So, who are you here to see?”
Thinking fast, Veronica picked the first name that she could remember from the directory. “I had an appointment with Dr. Peete.”
“Oh, he’s good. He did Suzie Enbom’s implants a few years ago. You can hardly tell they aren’t real. I’m sure he’ll do a great job on yours.”
Veronica was well aware that she was flat-chested, but she didn’t need some blonde bimbo, trophy wife suggesting she get implants. However, knowing she had to go along with her given excuse, she smiled tightly and answered through clenched teeth. “I’m just here for a consultation. Nothing definite yet.”
“Oh, I understand. I’m sure your boyfriend will absolutely love them. We do what we must to keep our men happy,” she continued innocently.
If her grin got any tighter, Veronica feared her face would stick in that position. Before she was forced to say anything more, Colleen looked down at her watch, which Veronica thought could probably pay her tuition at Hearst for a few years, and announced she had to leave. Blowing air kisses as she ran out the door, she left Veronica standing rooted to her spot.
Looking down at her chest, Veronica briefly wondered what she would look like with implants. Logan had certainly never complained about her breast size; he actually seemed quite pleased any time he got to see them. Shaking her head at her own musings, she headed for the same door Pussy - Colleen - had breezed through moments before.
She might do a lot of things to try and make Logan happy but there was no way in hell she would ever get implants for a guy. Unless, of course, the guy was someone drop-dead gorgeous like Jensen Ackles, in which case, she might reconsider.
Veronica sat in the LeBaron outside Neptune’s hottest new restaurant, Jaded. Logan had asked to take her there for dinner, but she had refused. Everyone already thought she was a gold digger - she had no need to further their suspicions. He had been offended and huffed that he might just go by himself. She had tried to reason with him, explaining that fancy restaurants weren’t her thing, but he’d been in a snit and refused to listen.
Normally Veronica wouldn’t follow Colleen on the evenings she was with her husband, but there was something about the couple’s behavior that felt off. She had no real reason to follow them other than sheer curiosity and a gut feeling. Having met her a few times now, Veronica couldn’t imagine Colleen cheating on her husband. Maybe if she saw them interact, though, she’d have a better idea of what made Colleen’s husband think otherwise. Plans for any covert ops to get inside of the restaurant were rendered unnecessary when Colleen arrived with the same purse she had at the party, allowing Veronica to listen in on the couple’s conversation.
So far, things were a bust. There had mostly been idle talk about John’s day and gossip about the St. John’s party the previous week. Mr. St. John had already filed for divorce and kicked Lydia to the curb. She had tried to check into the Neptune Grand only to find her credit cards had been canceled. The soon-to-be ex-Mrs. St. John was now residing at the Camelot Motel. Her lover, Pedro, had been anonymously reported as an illegal immigrant to the INS a few days after the party and had already been deported.
By 10 p.m., Veronica was ready to give up on learning anything new about the Sharpes. The only thing she had found out thus far was the result of a few men stopping by to say hello to Colleen and John. From the conversation, she ascertained that they were plastic surgeons. It had taken Veronica a few minutes, but she eventually recognized one of their names from the lobby directory of one of the office buildings Colleen had visited when she followed her, and Veronica realized the woman must be planning to have work done by multiple doctors.
Realizing that there was probably no affair, Veronica was about to start her car and leave when she saw Logan walk out of the restaurant. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she noticed the brunette attached to his arm. Before her imagination could go too far, an older man walked out of the restaurant, and the woman turned to him with a bright smile. Kissing Logan lightly on the cheek, she walked over to the other man, who wrapped an arm around her. As the valet appeared with Logan’s XTerra, a few more words and a handshake were exchanged before her boyfriend drove away.
Once Logan was gone, Veronica snapped a few pictures of the couple and their car. With the close-up provided by the zoom lens of her camera, she identified the couple as a director friend of Lynn Echolls’ and his wife. She had met them briefly at Aaron’s funeral, but hadn’t realized Logan kept in touch with them.
With a shrug, Veronica once again prepared to start her car. Before she could turn the key in the ignition, the conversation still coming through the bug stopped her cold.
“So what did you do today?” John had asked suddenly, his manner more challenging than curious.
Veronica thought it was a little strange that the man waited until dinner was almost over to ask his wife about her day. Most people would have asked much earlier.
Pussy laughed lightly. “Oh just the usual; visiting the spa, shopping.”
“Are you sure -”
“Excuse me,” the waiter interrupted. “Can I interest you in anything else? We have a lovely selection of desserts.”
Veronica couldn’t be sure but she could have sworn that Pussy started to say something when her husband interrupted.
“I’ll have a piece of the fudge cake and some coffee but my wife will skip dessert. She doesn’t need anything fattening,” John instructed the waiter.
“Yes sir.”
It was silent for a moment. “John I -”
“What have I told you about sugar, Pussy? Indulging in it will only lead to weight gain, especially with your sweet tooth. You wouldn’t want to get fat would you?”
“No John, of course not.”
“Have you been going to the gym and sticking to your diet? You look like you’ve gained a few pounds and your eyes look like they’re starting to wrinkle. You need to be taking better care of yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” Veronica heard Pussy apologize. “I wasn’t feeling well last week and skipped a few workouts.”
“I would hate to see you let yourself go. I thought we already discussed the consequences of that,” he stated, his tone menacing.
“I know. I’m so sorry. I swear I won’t let it happen again,” she continued, attempting to placate him.
After a few more minutes of listening to John continue to subtly berate his wife and Colleen’s constant apologies, Veronica tuned out the conversation. She couldn’t believe that a man who acted so attentive and loving towards his wife at the party a week ago was being such an asshole now. How anyone could consider the young woman fat or old was beyond her comprehension. She may have been in her early twenties, but she didn’t look a day over sixteen, and there wasn’t anything on that body that jiggled.
Finally, the couple finished dinner and left the restaurant. Veronica watched them stand sedately, with John’s hand clamped tightly around his wife’s wrist like a manacle. When the car arrived, John didn’t lead so much as jerk his wife towards it.
Veronica normally considered herself a good judge of character. Her skeptical side left her a little too jaded at times but the Sharpes certainly had fooled her. She bought the enamored couple act they displayed at the party just like everyone else. The dinner conversation she had just listened in on had wholly snatched away that illusion, though.
Too disgusted to listen to any more, Veronica turned off the listening device and started the car. She felt the urge to go home and shower, hoping the hot water would wash away the crawling sensation that overtook her flesh, a feeling of such unease that she’d only felt it a few times before.
There was definitely something to be said about the spacious backseat of an XTerra. Sure, the color of Logan’s SUV was bright enough that even a blind man could spot it - from a mile away, at night, while being distracted by fifteen nearly-naked strippers - but at least it was comfortable; that was more than she could say for her LeBaron.
Currently, she was on top of Logan and straddling him - her favorite position. And, from the deep vibrations currently coming from his throat, probably his as well. As usual, her hands were curved around his neck while his…well, his were everywhere. One moment, they were circling her waist and the next, his fingers were trailing up her spine, working their way beneath the thin layers of her clothing. When it came to undressing her, he was definitely dedicated to the cause.
Of course, as soon as his lips met hers, she stopped thinking altogether.
It was like it always was. Rushed and frenzied. His mouth - God, his fucking mouth - she didn’t know how one kiss could make her feel like this. How it turned her insides into liquid and made her cling to him as if he was the only thing that could save her.
Logan maneuvered her closer, if that was even possible, and she felt exactly how excited he was. Wiggling on his lap, and relishing the near-feral growls she inspired, she shoved him playfully, knowing he would clutch her even tighter.
It worked.
Her back was now against a door. He was fighting the laws of physics, or so it seemed, to get closer to her while she pulled at him to do the same.
Pushing and pulling. It seemed that was the one constant in their relationship.
“Fuck,” he muttered breathlessly.
“What?”
“Did you have to wear so many fucking layers? You’re dressed like we’re in the middle of the Arctic.”
“We’re not? No Eskimo kisses?” She mocked playfully, batting her eyelashes at him before she rubbed her nose against his.
He smirked. His clever fingers raced down her chest, and he unbuttoned her over-shirt within a span of seconds.
She bit back her smile, seeing the eager look on his face, which resembled a kid in a candy store. Of course, when the grin on his face soon turned cocky, probably because he was proud he’d gotten through one layer so soon, she decided to show him who, exactly, was the boss.
This time when she shoved him, it was more aggressive than playful. He fell back, pulling her with him, but she swiftly gained control. She looked down at him with a mischievous smile.
“That hurt,” he whined, rubbing the spot she’d exerted pressure on.
“Good.” Leaning down, her mouth latched onto his, and their game began all over again: the fight for control, the push to see who would drive the other one crazier.
Eventually, despite her not-so-best efforts, she ended up underneath him, panting for air, her fingers digging into his back as he sucked on the sensitive spot on her neck.
With her eyes closed, her body wrapped around his, she felt him remove her t-shirt. When her eyelids fluttered open, she found him staring down at her breasts in near-worshipful contemplation.
The only time he was ever speechless around her was when she was naked in front of him. She was happy to note her breasts, small or not, always seemed to have that effect on him. “I’m not getting any younger.”
He snapped out of his stupor and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “But you’ll always be perky.”
Before she could fire back a clever retort, his fingers brushed across her nipples. She bit her lip, holding in both her words and her gasp of pleasure as she arched against him, and he continued his tender assault.
Logan was very proficient when it came to ensuring she couldn’t keep a coherent thought in her head. Just when she was about to regain a semblance of control, despite his fingers continuously roving across her, he changed his pattern. Now his tongue joined the game, lavishing attention on her breasts, rendering her unable to think once again.
As he trailed wet kisses down her body, she held onto him with one hand, her fingers laced through his. It was when he was poised above her waist, his eyes glazed with desire, that he met her gaze. It was that look that always thrilled her. Scared her. Made her feel like she was falling into an abyss with only him to hold onto.
His mouth was open, stark desire reflected on his face. With expert fingers, he started to unbuckle her belt with his free hand.
And that’s when she froze. Images and sounds of Cassidy unbuckling his belt, one of many she’d conjured up over the last few weeks and had tried to bury into the recesses of her brain, were threatening to spill over, causing bile to rise in her throat.
Logan must have sensed the immediate tension in her body, because he stopped and looked at her, concern creasing his brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He didn’t look convinced. “What’s going on in that brain of yours?”
When she didn’t respond, he moved closer to her, cradling her face in his hands.
“Plotting evil schemes to take me down? Maybe,” he gave her a mischievous look. “You’re contemplating a surprising, below the belt move?”
A small smile formed across her face. “Telling you about it would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?”
“Don’t tell me stalking Pussy is making you have second thoughts about the male sex,” he quipped, kissing the tip of her nose. “Sucking takes a lot more work than blowing, you know.”
“Ha!” Even to her own ears, her response sounded weak. “No, it’s not Pussy.”
He waited for her to elaborate on why she was holding back, but she wasn’t in the mood for a long talk. Knowing Logan, he wouldn’t be happy with a half-assed excuse, and the last thing she wanted to do was discuss Cassidy.
As it became obvious to him that there was going to be no explanation offered, Logan appeared more and more frustrated. Eventually, he sat up and she began to dress herself. She felt him examining her every move, but refused to look at him.
“Talk to me, Veronica.”
“It’s late. I have to work early tomorrow.”
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, he leaned in closer. “It’s about -”
“Don’t.” Her voice was cold.
“And here I thought -”
“That’s your problem. You shouldn’t think.”
“So you prefer a man of action, then? I could impregnate a soon-to-be comatose goody-two shoes, kidnap her baby, and disappear. Would that work?”
Finally meeting his gaze, she responded in a frosty tone. “Take me home, Logan.”
She moved quickly into the passenger seat, Logan following her to the front of the car. As they drove home, the air was thick with tension. He occasionally glanced at her while she stared straight ahead, emotionless. He was pissed off, that much was obvious, since he was driving too fast. At one point he even started swearing at the car in front of them because they dared to slow down for a changing light, but she still didn’t feel the need to placate him. Especially when it involved baring her soul and bringing up memories she’d just as soon forget. There was exposing yourself, and then there was exposing yourself.
After following her for a few days, Veronica knew Colleen’s schedule like the back of her hand. It was a quarter after noon, and Colleen would be having lunch at Vague. Shuddering at the thought of eating nothing but raw vegetables every single day like Colleen did, Veronica made her way towards the table.
She was about to break the cardinal rule of being a PI. If her father found out what she was about to do, he’d be extremely upset, but she didn’t care. Her conscience was a more difficult thing to deal with than a lecture from Keith Mars.
Colleen was about to bite into something that looked like a miniature thorn when Veronica stood in front of her, suppressing a shudder. “Hey, Colleen.”
The other woman looked up at her with surprise, but soon, recognition set in. “Victoria, how are you?”
“I’m sure she’s great, but I’m actually Veronica.”
“Wow, I’m so sorry. You know I’m horrible with names.”
“That’s okay. Do you mind if I join you, Colleen? I was supposed to meet a friend here, but she ditched me.”
“Not at all. But please, call me Pussy. Everyone else does.”
Veronica took a seat across from her and soon, the waiter came by to give her a menu. Glancing at the prices, she decided water was the only option in her price range.
“Oh, what diet are you on? South Beach? Zone? Cabbage and apple?”
“I prefer lettuce and orange,” Veronica quipped.
“I haven’t heard of that one. Is it working?”
“It doesn’t show?” Veronica mocked disappointment. “And the guidebook said people would be astounded by the change.”
“It takes some time,” Colleen assured sincerely. “But it’s worth it in the end. I’m sure your boyfriend will love the new you.”
Considering she hadn’t seen or heard from him since their fight, Veronica seriously doubted that. Pushing thoughts of Logan aside, Veronica focused her attention back on Colleen, who was rattling on about a Dr. Dickinson.
“John just loves Dr. D’s work. Says he’s one of the best plastic surgeons in the country. You should definitely try to make an appointment with him.”
“I don’t think I can afford Dr. D.”
“Oh.” Colleen looked genuinely upset, as if not having money was the worst tragedy she could imagine. “Sometimes I forget how lucky I am. John… he’s so good to me. He gives me everything I could ever want.”
Yeah, he was definitely a prince, Veronica mused bitterly.
“Do people call you Ronnie?”
“Sometimes. And then I kill them after.”
“You don’t like it?” Colleen asked, surprised. “John says names ending with an ‘e’ sound are much more feminine. It’s why he likes to call me Pussy. He says guys love it.”
“So that’s why Tom’s chasing after Katie,” Veronica joked. “You and John? Have you two been together for a long time?”
“Yes. Our anniversary is coming up in a few months, so I’m getting something really special done for him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve been going to all these doctors because I want to look exactly like I did the day John met me.”
And now it all made sense - the reason Colleen was visiting so many doctors all at once.
“I want it to be a surprise for John. I’m going to tell him I need to visit a friend for few days and then get everything done.”
Seeing Colleen’s enthusiasm about the whole matter made Veronica realize exactly how much control John had over his wife. “Colleen, you’re beautiful. You must know that.”
For the first time, Veronica saw a hint of sadness in Colleen’s smile.
“But I look older than when John met me. He says it’s not fair to him if I let myself go because I’m changing from the person he fell in love with.”
“Do you ever wish your life was different?” So it wasn’t the smoothest of segues but she seriously doubted Colleen would even notice. “I’m going to college in the fall, but sometimes I think I shouldn’t even bother going to school and just get married. Life would be so much more fun.”
“I don’t regret marrying John. He was exactly what I needed at that time in my life.”
It was then Veronica realized nothing she could say would ever make Colleen realize what an ass her husband was, not when she saw John as her savior. Colleen truly believed her husband loved her, and she’d convinced herself everything he did was out of that love. She lived in a bubble, and Veronica didn’t think it was her place to rip Colleen out of it.
“But marriage isn’t for everyone,” Colleen continued, oblivious to Veronica’s inner turmoil. “I think you should definitely do the college thing; you seem really smart.”
“Well, this was great but I have to go now. I’m working in an hour.” Veronica stood up and reached into her bag to pull out a card. “Colleen, if you need anything, like you want to go to the movies, or maybe… I don’t know. You want to talk or whatever, call me. You can reach me anytime at that number.” Smirking, she rolled her eyes. “I have no life.”
Colleen smiled, taking the card from Veronica’s hands. “This was so much fun. We should definitely do it again.”
As Veronica left the restaurant, she pondered Colleen’s life. Sure, Colleen lived in denial, but it was something Veronica could relate to. Sometimes a little denial was the only way a girl could get through day to day.
Veronica was sitting behind her desk, organizing everything into a neat little pile, when John Sharpe, slick as oil, stepped through the door. Flashing a dazzling grin, he approached, and she quickly felt her anger rise. In the last two years she’d already dealt with her share of manipulative, disguised psychotic assholes; she really didn’t want to add one more person to that list.
“Hello.”
Oh, yeah, Colleen’s husband was definitely smooth. He clearly expected her to fawn over his good looks. Instead, she reciprocated with a tight smile, her temper flaring even more when she caught his eyes darting slightly to somewhere below her face, and then back up again. He was checking her out.
“How are you?”
“Peachy,” she answered in a frosty tone. “My dad’s waiting inside for you.”
Luckily, Keith opened the door to his office just then and greeted John with a warm smile. “Mr. Sharpe, you’re just in time. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?”
It pissed her off how civil her father was acting towards John, but Veronica supposed he couldn’t exactly be rude to a client. Especially a well-paying client.
John turned down the offer for a drink and soon entered the inner office. Keith shut the door behind them.
It didn’t escape her notice how often her dad closed that door nowadays. Of course, if one were to ask him, there was nothing out of the ordinary.
Deciding to focus her attention on more useful things, she turned to her laptop. Planet Zowie was always there, her useful and reliable search engine, and as she searched Rosa’s case, the site proved its dependability once again.
As Weevil had correctly assumed, there were only a few articles about the kidnapping. She was reading through them when the door to Keith’s office opened suddenly and John stepped out. Unlike a few minutes ago, the look he greeted her with was not the least bit friendly. Without acknowledging her, he stormed out.
“Guess that went well,” Veronica said sarcastically, looking up at Keith, who stood framed in the doorway.
“He didn’t seem to think we did a good enough job following his wife around. He’s convinced Pus-”
“Don’t say it!”
Keith laughed. “Colleen is cheating on him. I told him there’s no proof of that.”
“And to think she’s running around town trying to be the perfect present for him.”
“Rich people,” Keith sighed. “You can’t kill them -”
“- and when they kill people, you can’t put them away.”
The smile on his face lessened a little, and Veronica felt a prick of guilt.
“Well, I’m running late for an appointment. I’ll see you at home, honey?”
“Sure.”
“Should I get some take-out for us tonight?”
“Whatever.”
Coming closer to her, he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “I love you.”
Instinctively, she softened towards him. “Can you get that extra cheesy garlic bread I like?”
“The really greasy one that pours out oil like it’s a leaking tank in the Middle East?”
“That’s the one.” She smiled.
“Of course. I was going to get that, anyway.”
Veronica stared after Keith when he left, reflecting on how normal everything seemed between them at that moment. Then she remembered Frank and her father’s refusal to talk to her about his ex-partner, and her frustrations resurfaced.
Shaking her thoughts of Keith away, she concentrated her attention back on her laptop. She still had a lot to learn about kidnapping statistics.
A few minutes later, as she scanned through pages and pages of information, a sick feeling arose in the pit of her stomach. According to the Vanished Children's Alliance, every forty seconds another child went missing or was abducted. If that wasn’t frightening enough, the statistics also stated that less than a third of all the kidnapping cases were “stranger-kidnappings” compared to “family-kidnappings” and “acquaintance-kidnappings.”
Continuing her research, she came across all the different types of kidnapping cases. There were the ransom cases, which were apparently almost non-existent now because of the FBI’s diligent stance towards kidnapping. There were the deprogramming kidnappings, a rare practice - well not so rare, since she remembered her own personal experience involving Casey - to convince someone to give up a set of beliefs that the deprogrammer considered harmful. There were child stealings, bride kidnappings… reading it all made her skin crawl.
Unable to take any more, she went back to searching Rosa’s case again.
As she skimmed through the article she found, she once again noted the similarities between Marisol and Rosa’s situations; they lived in the same neighborhood, and even were in the same grade in school at the time of their disappearances. To anyone else that would seem to be more than a coincidence, but to Lamb, unsurprisingly, it didn’t even register as a blip on his radar.
Using Marisol’s name to search, Veronica turned up a few more hits - relatively speaking, of course. Chances were she'd get a hell of a lot more hits on her own name than she would on either Marisol's or Rosa's.
The first few links were articles she’d already read, but there was something that stuck out further down the page. Apparently, Marisol wasn’t the only girl to go missing in 2003; there was also a Tracy Gonzalez who had lived a few miles away from the other two girls. Tracy’s smiling face looked back at Veronica across time, full of joy. It was a school picture, probably the last one Tracy would ever pose for, and sadness washed over Veronica all over again.
The office phone rang just then, breaking her out of her reverie. Relieved to see that it was Keith calling, she answered. “Hey, Dad.”
“I’m pretty sure the greasy garlic bread is killing the environment as we speak. It’s just sitting on the table, taunting me with its deliciousness.”
“I’m just finishing up some stuff. I’ll be home in a few minutes.”
She closed all the windows on her screen, deciding she’d done enough research for one night. Her mind was still reeling with the discovery of Tracy, and she needed time to process all of the new information.
Picking up the Sharpe file Keith had left on her desk, Veronica sifted through the pictures she had taken of Colleen. Since the case was officially closed, she could delete all the pictures of Colleen from her hard drive. The last thing she needed were any more bitter reminders of her inability to help the other woman. While scrolling through the pictures, she came across the ones from when she’d followed Colleen to a mall. Unlike other people, Colleen didn’t shop for clothes at malls; she only stopped by to go to the health food store to pick up weight-loss supplements.
Veronica was about to delete the last set of pictures when something in one of them caught her attention. She hadn’t noticed it before, because frankly, it was a blurry - and thus useless - shot of Colleen. The focus had been mis-set, making the background crisp, and leaving Colleen nothing but a blob of sad color. However, as Veronica stared at the picture now, she couldn’t believe it had escaped her attention.
There, in the far corner of the shot, was a clear image of Lianne Mars.
To Be Continued
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