Chapter 6: Forgive Us Our Trespasses
Title: All Fall Down
Pairing / Character: Veronica/Logan, Keith
Rating: PG-13 to R
Words: 39,000 to date
Summary: In Neptune, the brighter the summer sun, the deeper the shadows.
Spoilers / Warnings: Seasons 1 and 2 / Language and adult situations
Chapter 6: Forgive Us Our Trespasses
Authors: __tiana__ and sadiekate
Additional Characters: Lamb, Luke
Rating: R for language
Words: 5,500ish
Author’s Note: All Fall Down is a collaborative effort by 19 writers. You can learn more about this project here. Big thanks to mutinousmuse for her super beta work, and to lex_83, shizam23 and sarah_p for their helpful comments. And since this is __tiana__ typing, much, much love to my fabulous co-writer sadiekate! This was a HUGE treat to write with you.
X-posted to veronicamarsfic and fic_from_mars
All Fall Down
Chapter 6
Forgive Us Our Trespasses
It was uncomfortably quiet in the Crown Vic as Keith steered through the nearly deserted streets of Neptune. Most of the town’s wealthier denizens had departed for the summer, presumably craving visits to Europe and yachting adventures and spa retreats to unwind from their busy lives of corruption. The swankier part of downtown was so empty, Veronica half-expected to see tumbleweeds blowing across the wide boulevard.
Luckily for the bottom line at Mars Investigations, however, there were still just enough corrupt wealthy people in Neptune doing just enough myriad corrupt things to keep Keith and Veronica busy and fed. In this particular case, adultery.
“So, why did you need my help on this?” Veronica asked, when she couldn’t handle the silence anymore. “I mean, it seems like a pretty basic case.”
“Maybe I just wanted to spend a little quality time with you,” Keith said cheerily, seemingly oblivious to the awkward pauses.
Veronica bit her lip and stared out the window.
“Also,” Keith admitted. “It’s a little difficult to get photographic evidence of an affair at the Grand. They tend to frown on schlubby guys lurking in the hallway with a camera for some reason.”
“It’s so much easier when they slum it,” Veronica concurred. Talking shop like old times lifted one layer of the thick tension in the car.
“Exactly. So far, I haven’t even been able to pin down who our scarlet woman has been having the affair with,” Keith explained. “He must arrive first and put the room on his card, because there’s never any action on any of her cards there. And even if I waited around all night, there’s no way I could figure out who her paramour is. I can’t even get to the elevator without hotel security waylaying me.”
“Thus, making it impossible for you to find out who’s way laying her,” Veronica mused.
Keith groaned, but she could see his relief at her active participation in the conversation.
“You’ve been spending too much time with Logan,” he said affectionately. “Your sense of humor used to be way better.”
Veronica couldn’t quite muffle a smile.
“So, I guess you want me to go in and try to check out a selection of hotel bills within the time frames our mystery man has been there before? What’s my angle, grieving young widow who suspects her late husband was having an affair?”
“That’s a good one,” Keith said approvingly. “Takes care of any question of confidentiality.”
“Plus, most concierges are very uncomfortable with human emotion. A few fake tears should scare the financial records right out of ‘em.”
“I am a little disappointed,” Keith sighed. “I was really hoping that this time I’d get to be the pregnant teenager.”
“It’s good to have dreams,” Veronica grinned, patting his knee as they pulled up to the valet stand.
A half hour later, Veronica was dabbing a damp paper towel under her eyes in the ostentatious ladies’ room in the lobby of the Grand. The fake waterworks had yielded a ton of hotel bills for the time periods the assignations had taken place, but there hadn’t been an overlapping name in the bunch. So, they were effectively back to square one.
Oddly enough, Veronica didn’t mind. She was actually looking forward to grabbing dinner with her dad and running some more angles for the case. When they had a mutual project, some kind of shared goal, it was easy to forget for a while that he was keeping things from her.
She had really kind of been missing her daddy-daughter time. Not that she would be admitting that out loud anytime soon.
Veronica patted her face dry and met Keith in the lobby.
“I was thinking Chinese?” he suggested.
“You should probably master thinking in English, first,” she countered, and he rolled his eyes.
They had almost made it to the front door when the strains of Latin music filtering through the lobby stopped Veronica in her tracks.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Keith looked down at her, concerned.
“Come with me,” she said enigmatically. “I’m fairly certain it’ll be worth your while.”
Veronica followed the rhythm of the music to its place of origin, tugging her dad by the elbow. She positioned them behind a large potted tree and peered into the large ballroom, her eyes scanning the twirling dancers within.
“There,” she hissed, pointing to the far right corner.
“Is that … Lamb?” Keith asked incredulously.
“Oh, it is indeed,” Veronica said gleefully. “I think the more important question is … is he wearing toreador pants?”
“Please tell me you have heavy-duty surveillance equipment in that bag of yours,” Keith muttered, rubbing his hands together.
“Never leave home without it,” she said triumphantly, producing her camcorder with a flourish.
“I raised you so well,” Keith said proudly, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
Veronica smiled fondly at him before lifting the camera to her face and zooming in close.
“I’m still not clear why you needed my help setting up for this party,” Veronica said, sprawling out on the couch and casting a look around Logan’s new living room. “I always thought the recipe for an ’09er soiree was, ‘take one part rich kids and five parts alcohol and stir’.”
“That’s not entirely accurate,” Logan said, settling down on the opposite end and pulling her feet onto his lap. “We sometimes also have bonfires.”
“Shoot. I forgot about that.” Veronica snapped her fingers. “Well, I was going to suggest you have pony rides to liven up the shindig, but I don’t think I’m comfortable bringing ponies around open flames. Somebody might get ideas.”
“Mmm, pony burgers,” Logan sighed contentedly, and she laughed as she halfheartedly kicked him.
“You could have clowns,” she suggested.
“You hate clowns,” he reminded her.
“I know. So I won’t mind so much if someone decides to make clown burgers.”
“You are a sick and twisted individual,” Logan informed her, pulling her around so that she was leaning up against him.
Veronica snuggled up under his arm, sliding into the kind of moment that had eluded the two of them in recent times.
“It’s part of my charm,” she said knowingly.
It was nice seeing Logan relaxed in his own space. Veronica hadn’t entirely understood why he’d decided to buy a house in the first place. After all, if she’d had the kind of money he had access to, she would have been halfway around the world by now. He was positively gleeful about throwing himself a housewarming party, though, and Veronica was starting to get the appeals of homeownership. After all that time virtually living in the pool house off his parents’ house, and then almost a year in a hotel, it was good for him to have a place of his own.
Who would have thought that stability would suit Logan Echolls?
Veronica scooted a little closer to him, tilting her face up and pressing a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth.
“Hey,” he grinned down at her.
“Hey yourself,” she replied.
Logan brushed her hair out of her eyes, and she leaned up into his touch.
The moment was effectively spoiled when Luke, Casey and JP stumbled through the door with an already-tapped keg.
“I drank like, half of this in the car on the way here,” Luke announced proudly.
Logan smiled down at Veronica ruefully.
“Looks like this party has officially started,” he announced, rising to his feet.
Two hours later, the party was in full-force, and Veronica was officially not having fun. The only place not crowded with whooping boys, drunk on Heineken and testosterone, was the back deck, and even that hideout was tainted when Luke stumbled out and puked gloriously and voluminously over the railing.
Veronica sighed and grabbed her bag, gingerly stepping around Luke.
“I think I’m going to go,” she told Logan, shouting over the booming music.
“But it’s still early!” Logan protested, following her to the door.
“Yeah, I know, but it’s a little crazy in there,” Veronica said, rubbing her arms uncomfortably. “Anyway, I told my dad maybe I could help him some more with this case he’s working, so …” She looked toward the door to avoid too much eye contact. Though she was telling the truth about her Dad, her escape had a lot more to do with the way ’09er parties still made her want to flee. Even if the ’09er throwing the party happened to be her boyfriend.
“Okay,” Logan said dubiously. “Well, call me later, just so I know you didn’t get into too much trouble.”
“I’ll be with my dad. How much trouble could I get into?”
Logan raised an eyebrow.
“Point taken,” Veronica sighed. “Fine, I’ll call you when I get home. By the way, you might want to check on Luke. The last time I saw him, he was throwing up that half of a keg he drank out on your back porch.”
“Oh, that’s just great,” Logan griped. “Thank you for that.”
“Have fun!” Veronica chirped brightly, kissing him quickly before hopping into her car. Logan watched her pull away, hands on hips, frowning slightly before turning towards the sound of glass breaking inside with a roll of his eyes.
Veronica was nearly knocked over by Backup as she threw the door open to the apartment, his whole body wagging. He made a low whine, snuffling against her hand.
"Hey, boy. What's up?" She looked around as she ruffled his ears and patted his wriggling back, noting the single lamp on in the living room. Brows drawing together, she called out. "Dad?"
Releasing Backup, she walked towards her Dad's room before a piece of yellow legal paper caught her eye on the counter. The line between her eyes deepened when she recognized her Dad's neat printing. Just as she went to pick it up, her cellphone began to play, the strains of Whitney Houston belting out ‘The Greatest Love of All’ filling the kitchen. Eyes rolling automatically at Logan’s self-selected ringtone, Veronica snapped it open and offered a quick 'Hey' even as her eyes began to scan the note.
...turned out the perp was a Neptune Grand staffer using empty rooms to meet with his lady love, so no records. Thanks for the assist last night ....
The sounds of the party were muffled, making Veronica assume Logan had locked himself into his bedroom, likely the only spot in the house safe from partygoers.
"Veronica? Are you home?" Logan asked.
"Yep, I'm here." She tensed as she read the end of the note.
A few seconds of silence hung over the line, as Logan waited for more. "Oookay. Is everything cool?"
"Yes, everything is -" Veronica's eyes scanned the last line of Keith's note for the second time, her voice tightening. " - fine. It's fine."
Hope you had a good time at Logan's party, but not too good a time. On a case tonight, so I'll see you in the a.m. Love, Dad
"Veronica, you don't sound - " A loud thump came through the phone. " - damn it, hold on."
"I'll let you go, Logan. Talk to you tomorrow." Without waiting for a reply, Veronica flipped the phone closed and walked to the couch, note in hand. Crumpling it in a ball, she flopped onto the couch with a sigh.
Backup came over, nuzzling into her hand once again. She looked down at him, wistfully. "It's just you and me, bud. Looks like Dad’s the only one spending quality time with the seedy underbelly of Neptune tonight.”
Veronica sat on the couch for all of five minutes before she got restless. It was easy to blame it on disappointment in her Dad for once again leaving her on the outside looking in. But the truth was that she simply wanted to be doing what she did best: uncovering secrets, tracking down the bad guy and generally putting her nose where it didn’t belong. She glanced down at Backup, now sacked out by her feet, and couldn’t hide a sudden grim smile. There was one seedy underbelly she’d been meaning to go after for the last few days.
Five minutes later, she cranked the engine of the LeBaron and pulled out onto the dark, wet streets of Neptune, bag full of trusty surveillance equipment at her side. Her mind was on the task at hand, but she didn’t fail to notice a glossy red Mustang coming around the corner and falling in behind her.
The Mustang stayed with her as she made her way downtown. Veronica adjusted her rearview mirror and frowned. She supposed it could be a coincidence that the car was heading across town at the same time she was, but it didn’t feel like one. And her Dad, when he was actually communicating with her, had taught her to always trust her instincts. Her eyes darted to the mirror and back to the road, trying to write it off to her mood. To the sense that things in her life were just a little bit off. When the Mustang made a turn just before she reached her destination, Veronica released the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding and re-focused on her goal.
On a quiet side street, she slumped down into the seat, pointing her camera just barely out of the open window. His house was nondescript, small, tucked away in an equally nondescript neighborhood. The presence of flowers in the yard surprised her, but the jacked up pickup truck complete with busty lady mudguards in the driveway did not. No sign of his patrol car, but there was a small garage. It was probably ill-advised to advertise where you lived when you were the Sheriff in a town like Neptune. Luckily, Veronica had access to that information anyway, and she had kept it tucked away for a rainy night just like this one.
He was home, and giving her nothing from the outside. Sighing, Veronica dropped her head onto the seat back. Normally, she was a lot more patient on stakeouts, but the image of him flashing that smug smirk and wishing harm to her father in his own only slightly indirect way, was making her antsy. She opened her eyes, noting the three windows on the lower floor with lights on. It wouldn’t take long to check them. Decision made, Veronica slung her bag over her shoulder and approached his house from the side, knowing the minute her foot hit his neatly trimmed grass that she was crossing a line. Something in her couldn’t seem to care. If he had a hand in her Dad’s shooting, it wasn’t the last line she was willing to cross.
In the second lit window, she found Lamb sprawled in a recliner, watching TV, drinking a beer. Ten minutes later, he was still watching TV. And drinking a beer. Veronica felt her leg begin to cramp and hoped his neighbors couldn’t see her. Just when had she resigned herself to a return trip to the car since even Lamb was letting her down tonight by not speaking aloud to an empty room about his insidious plot to kill her Dad, she heard a sound. She froze as the steps got closer to her hiding spot and began to look around for an escape route.
Veronica turned just in time to see Logan exit the shadows, exposing himself to view to at least five houses. She gestured him low to the ground, face contorted, but he just kept on loping to her, glancing around.
Yanking him to her and down, Veronica spit her next words in a harsh whisper. “Dammit, Logan. What the hell are you doing here?”
His voice was an equally rough whisper. “I’m not the one playing Little Bo Peep at some random dude’s house, Veronica,” he snapped at her. Logan looked towards the street. “Where the hell’s your Dad, anyway?”
Realization dawned on her face.
“Did you - are you driving a red Mustang?” Veronica said, forgetting to whisper. It was hard to remember much of anything, except all the myriad ways she could kill Logan at the moment.
He had the grace to look sheepish at this comment. “Yeah. It’s JP’s. The Xterra was blocked in and he was in no condition to argue. Guess you saw me?”
She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “Not cool, Logan. Why are you following me?”
“Where’s your Dad?” Logan returned to his earlier question, slightly exasperated.
“Look, my Dad took off on his own case tonight, so I’m staking out Lamb. I can’t help but think he might know something more than he’s letting on about the shooting. You remember how he acted the other night. He was taunting me.” Veronica cut a look in the window, lowering her voice again. She could see Lamb stand up and head toward the hallway and her eyes widened.
Logan matched her tone. “Yeah, and he never does that just to make you crazy, right, Veronica? This seemed like the kind of job you should do completely by yourself? At the fucking Sheriff’s house?” He ran his hand through his hair, shuffled out of his half-crouch just as she grabbed him and pulled him up.
“An excellent question, Ms. Mars. Now, turn around. Slowly. You too, Mr. Echolls.”
They both breathed out, one word between them.
“Fuck.”
“This might be a little cozy, but I hear you two are dating again. Hey, for all I know, it may not be the first time you’ve done this.”
The metallic rasp of the handcuffs locking made Veronica grit her teeth. Lamb was enjoying this entirely too damn much.
“Y’know, Sheriff,” Logan glanced around the interior hallway of Lamb’s house, noting a Meritorious Service Award and half-expecting to see his Boy Scout badges framed, “I’ve had my occasional brushes with the law. And I just have this feeling the papers would have a field day with you cuffing two teenagers in your house when you’re off-duty. It has a certain... unseemly quality to it.”
“Plus, you’re wearing a Journey t-shirt. Also unseemly,” Veronica added, nodding, taking her cue from Logan on the false bravado front. Glancing over at his smirking face, she realized the bravado might not actually be false.
“Oh, take it easy on him. It’s not his fault that he won’t stop believing. He just wants to hold onto that feeling.” Logan winked at her and she bit down on her lip to keep from grinning at him. As infuriating as he could be, it wasn’t hard to remember why she was dating him in the first place. His penchant for mouthing off to the very people who could make his life hell was something she could relate to quite well.
She nodded seriously at Logan before turning to Lamb with an innocent expression. He narrowed his eyes at both of them. “Keep talking, wiseasses. Just digging your own graves. I’ve got you dead to rights for trespassing.” Her eyes widened when she realized Lamb was about to search her bag and would easily find her mini digital camcorder. Surely, he would make up some new charge to bring for that little item. Plus, it was a birthday gift.
Her eyes landed on the TV, and her salvation. Literally. “Touched by an Angel? Well, now I really do feel bad. Logan, we interrupted Lamb’s special time with the Lord.”
Swallowing a snicker, Logan shook his head at Lamb, who looked like a deer caught in headlights, his hand frozen on the strap of Veronica’s bag. “Dude.”
Lamb hesitated, torn between the TV and the smartass teenagers in front of him. He shrugged and retorted defensively, “Shut it. And, whatever. The Irish chick is hot.”
Logan widened his eyes. “Della Reese is Irish?”
Lamb made a choking sound, but before he could retort, Veronica jumped in. “What, you couldn't find any old-school Degrassi reruns to wile away your Saturday night?"
“Keep going,” Lamb warned them. “Keep going and see what happens.”
“Or what?” Veronica said witheringly. “You’re going to handcuff us even more than you already have?”
She held up her right wrist, dragging Logan’s left arm with her, as she jangled their shared restraints.
“He sure does seem to handcuff me a lot,” Logan mused to Veronica. “I think he has a crush on me.”
“That would make a lot of sense,” she said, confidentially. “And if he handcuffs people he has crushes on, well, he must write my name with little hearts around it on his notebook.”
“Oh, whatever,” Logan scoffed. “He’s handcuffed me more times than he’s handcuffed you.”
“Dream on!” Veronica said indignantly.
“I got arrested on election night,” he reminded her. “Donny obviously wanted to share his special day with me.”
“He sent his minions to pick you up. That totally doesn’t count.”
“Yeah, well, he made me keep the cuffs on in his office later,” Logan mumbled.
“Pfft, I got arrested at school,” Veronica said derisively. “Beat that.”
Lamb put his hands on his hips, a muscle in his jaw starting to twitch as he watched the verbal tennis match continue. He half-hoped one of them might implicate the other and give him even more to charge them with.
“I was arrested at school, too! For the bong thing.” Logan jerked his head toward Veronica as he looked at Lamb. “Incidentally, she framed me for that.”
“Yeah, but that was by Deputy Sacks, and you weren’t even handcuffed,” Veronica cut in before Lamb could respond. “The Sheriff here came down personally to the school, with his shiny handcuffs of kinky weirdness and hauled me away. You were there. I remember you taking great pleasure in my walk of shame.” She turned her attention to Lamb, who seemed to be fast losing his patience with this little game. “And, just to remind you, I was framed for that, too. Man, does the whole department fall for frame-ups, or what? Must be your stellar leadership.”
“Didn’t he arrest you and Duncan together once, too?” Logan asked.
“Yes. And! He arrested me after Duncan fled the country. He brought a couple of burly dudes with him, too. I think he was afraid I might distract him with something shiny and escape.”
“You’re right,” Logan conceded, nodding seriously. “I think he does like you better.”
“Oh my God, I don’t like either one of you!” Lamb finally erupted. “No wonder you two got back together. Probably no one else can stand to be around either one of you.”
Logan’s face went blank at that, and the corner of Veronica’s mouth twisted slightly.
“So, if the smartass portion of the evening is over,” Lamb continued. “Why don’t we get to the point of this nightmarish little tête-à-tête? Namely, what the hell were you two doing skulking around in my yard?”
“Thinking of bringing some gentrification to your shitty neighborhood?” Logan muttered.
“Try again,” Lamb shouted.
“Actually, we weren’t skulking around in your yard,” Veronica said tightly. “I was skulking around in your yard, until Marcel Marceau over here decided to crash my stakeout.”
“Hey, don’t turn this around on me,” Logan retorted, pulling far enough away from her so that no part of him touched her, the chain of the handcuffs their only link. “You just took off, and I find you across town, alone in the dark, prowling around in someone’s yard. And you act like it’s so ludicrous that I worry about you.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Veronica protested.
“And what is that?” Lamb asked again, his frustration evidently mounting.
“I’m trying to find out exactly how you’re involved in my father’s shooting!” Veronica burst out. She was mortified to realize she was on the verge of tears.
“What are you talking about?” Lamb asked incredulously. For the first time since he dragged the two of them into his house, he looked genuinely startled.
“You, with your comments the other night about how it was such a crying shame that the shooter didn’t do a better job of trying to kill my Dad. Or maybe you were hoping he would have hit me, too? Even Logan? Three birds, one stone?” Her voice was vehement, nearly shaking with anger. Logan looked from Veronica to Lamb, surprised. They had barely spoken of that night since it happened.
Lamb shook his head. “Veronica, you never make any sense and you’re making even less now. I didn’t shoot your Dad, for Christ’s sake. I don’t have to listen to this bullshit in my own house, so I suggest you-”
“Where were you the night he was shot?” Veronica glared up at him, undeterred. If the sneaky, stakeout method didn’t work, the full on attack would just have to do.
“None of your business.” He grabbed Veronica’s shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
She tried to visibly relax, angling for a way to get a straight answer from Lamb.
“Look, Veronica,” Lamb drawled, reveling in making the snappish Veronica Mars speechless for a few moments. “You can either think of me as an incompetent loser, or as an evil mastermind. But it’s kind of hard for me to be both. You can believe me, or not. Either way, you need to stay the hell out of my yard. In fact, just stay away from me altogether. The last thing I need is to spend another evening at the dinner theater of horror that is your relationship. Jesus. And I thought I had girl problems.” He smacked Logan on the shoulder. “My condolences.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t have girl problems if you didn’t date high-schoolers,” Veronica said snidely.
“And maybe you wouldn’t keep getting handcuffed if you didn’t keep breaking the law. Now, wait here while I go and change into my uniform. This shirt is a classic and I don’t plan on getting it dirty when I take you in and book you.”
“You’re going to book us?” Veronica said incredulously.
“Um, yeah?”
She shook her head, finding her mental footing again. “That is so not a good idea.”
“Oh really. And why is that?”
“Reach into my bag and hand me my camcorder.” She narrowed her eyes at him, gesturing to the bag with her free hand.
Lamb looked at her suspiciously.
“Oh, relax. It’s not going to self-destruct in thirty seconds, if that’s what you’re worried about. Hand it over.”
It was a little awkward, flipping open the camera one-handed and scrolling through the files until she found the one she wanted. After a moment, though, the faint sounds of Latin music could be heard throughout the living room.
Lamb’s eyes widened.
“Where did you … how did you …”
“Does the where and how really matter?” Veronica asked rhetorically. “What matters is, I have it. And don’t even think about breaking my camera there, champ. I have backup files on computers that you’ll never even find. You take me in, and two words are going to bring you down. What words, you ask? Paso. Doble.”
“Oh wait, I’ve got three more words,” Logan couldn’t resist chiming in. “With your mom.”
Veronica sent him a small, grateful smile. Logan shrugged, almost imperceptibly, then turned his attention back to the recording.
“Ooh, the way the light’s hitting you in that ballroom, it looks like you might be getting a little thin on top,” Logan continued, warming up a little.
Lamb’s hand flew up self-consciously to his hair, and Veronica stifled a laugh.
“It’s all right,” Logan assured him. “Bald can be sexy.”
“Oh God, not the Lex Luthor thing again,” Veronica groaned.
“Can I help it if Michael Rosenbaum portrays him as a complex and compelling villain, with a touch of pathos, and still looks good doing it? Donny, you should really check him out. You might pick up a few pointers, if you decide to shift away from incompetence and go the evil mastermind route.”
Lamb pressed his lips together in a thin white line.
“Fine,” he bit out. “I’ll let it go this one time. But I’m not kidding. You need to stay away from me. Take your conspiracy theories and go play in someone else’s backyard. Preferably across the county line, so I don’t have to deal with you.”
“Ah, one more thing, Lamb. Where were you the night my Dad was shot?” Veronica’s voice snapped across the room, the same question, but this time fully loaded. When he narrowed his eyes at her, she wiggled the camera at him. “I also caught your attempts at West Coast Swing. The internet is anxiously awaiting your debut...”
He reached out and hauled their wrists towards him, unceremoniously uncuffing them. Veronica rubbed at her chafed skin resentfully, and Logan absentmindedly drummed his fingers against his leg.
“I was at the county firing range. Getting re-certified.” Lamb walked to the door and yanked it open, frowning.
Veronica laughed for just a moment. “Failed the test, did you? Now, that is almost as embarrassing as your dance costume.” It didn’t settle her suspicions completely, but it was at least something she could easily verify with a few phone calls.
“Unless you want to stay and play a game of Risk, you can go now,” he said brusquely, and Veronica rose to her feet. Logan was two paces behind her as she made her way to the front door.
“Hey, Echolls,” Lamb called out, and they both paused and turned to face him.
“You might want to start reconsidering the company you keep,” Lamb smirked. “I mean, first it was the bong set up. And now, she almost got you arrested tonight.” He paused, tapping his chin in thought. “And, if I remember correctly, she turned you in for murdering your other girlfriend. Have you two ever considered couples counseling? Might help you work out some of those trust issues.” He grinned, first at Logan and then at Veronica.
Logan brushed past Veronica abruptly, but she stood stock still for a moment, her gaze locked with Lamb’s. His were amused and she remembered why she hated him so effortlessly.
“Have a great night,” he said insincerely, giving her a little finger wave. “Drive safe, now.”
Veronica reciprocated with a hand gesture of her own, slamming the door behind her on the way out.
Logan was still outside, pacing the sidewalk. Veronica wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved that he hadn’t taken off after Lamb’s parting shot.
“Look,” she sighed, stepping in front of him so he had to stop walking and look at her. “I’m sorry about that whole thing.”
“Whatever,” he said dismissively.
“Logan, I really was supposed to meet my dad,” Veronica protested. “But he bailed on me, and I just couldn’t stay at home and do nothing. This thing is driving me crazy. I have to figure it out.”
“You could have called me,” he cut her off. “I would have come with you. You can’t just keep running off and doing these things on your own. I mean, you thought Lamb was involved in your dad’s shooting, and so you went to his house in the middle of the night, alone, and unarmed, without telling anyone where you were? Just think about it for a second, Veronica. You’re smart, but you sometimes do incredibly stupid things.”
“I didn’t want to take you away from your party,” she said lamely.
“I wouldn’t have cared,” he said quietly. “I only had the stupid party because I thought you and I might have some fun. We all used to do things like that before, you know?”
“Well, parties aren’t exactly fun for me anymore,” she snapped.
Logan sighed.
“I...but it was my party, Veronica. At my house. And you didn’t even -” He sighed. “I don’t know what to do. You want to go on pretending that everything is fine, but it clearly isn’t. And I just, I can’t-”
Veronica reached out and gingerly touched his shoulder. He stiffened, but didn’t shake off her touch.
“I know I say this a lot, but it really isn’t the right time to talk about this,” she said, indicating Lamb’s silhouette through his front window.
“So pick a time,” he implored.
Veronica shrugged helplessly, and Logan pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I’ve got to get back to my house,” he said flatly. “With my luck, those guys have burned it down. Are you coming?”
Veronica hesitated.
“I should get back home,” she hedged. “I want to be there in case my dad gets back.”
She shifted her bag to other shoulder, searching Logan’s face. He evaded her gaze.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said firmly.
“You can’t keep running away, Veronica. I don’t … you just can’t, okay?”
He turned and walked back towards JP’s car, not bothering to wait for a response.
His taillights had long since faded into the distance by the time she began to head towards her car.
To Be Continued
Click here for Chapter 5.
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Pairing / Character: Veronica/Logan, Keith
Rating: PG-13 to R
Words: 39,000 to date
Summary: In Neptune, the brighter the summer sun, the deeper the shadows.
Spoilers / Warnings: Seasons 1 and 2 / Language and adult situations
Chapter 6: Forgive Us Our Trespasses
Authors: __tiana__ and sadiekate
Additional Characters: Lamb, Luke
Rating: R for language
Words: 5,500ish
Author’s Note: All Fall Down is a collaborative effort by 19 writers. You can learn more about this project here. Big thanks to mutinousmuse for her super beta work, and to lex_83, shizam23 and sarah_p for their helpful comments. And since this is __tiana__ typing, much, much love to my fabulous co-writer sadiekate! This was a HUGE treat to write with you.
X-posted to veronicamarsfic and fic_from_mars
All Fall Down
Chapter 6
Forgive Us Our Trespasses
It was uncomfortably quiet in the Crown Vic as Keith steered through the nearly deserted streets of Neptune. Most of the town’s wealthier denizens had departed for the summer, presumably craving visits to Europe and yachting adventures and spa retreats to unwind from their busy lives of corruption. The swankier part of downtown was so empty, Veronica half-expected to see tumbleweeds blowing across the wide boulevard.
Luckily for the bottom line at Mars Investigations, however, there were still just enough corrupt wealthy people in Neptune doing just enough myriad corrupt things to keep Keith and Veronica busy and fed. In this particular case, adultery.
“So, why did you need my help on this?” Veronica asked, when she couldn’t handle the silence anymore. “I mean, it seems like a pretty basic case.”
“Maybe I just wanted to spend a little quality time with you,” Keith said cheerily, seemingly oblivious to the awkward pauses.
Veronica bit her lip and stared out the window.
“Also,” Keith admitted. “It’s a little difficult to get photographic evidence of an affair at the Grand. They tend to frown on schlubby guys lurking in the hallway with a camera for some reason.”
“It’s so much easier when they slum it,” Veronica concurred. Talking shop like old times lifted one layer of the thick tension in the car.
“Exactly. So far, I haven’t even been able to pin down who our scarlet woman has been having the affair with,” Keith explained. “He must arrive first and put the room on his card, because there’s never any action on any of her cards there. And even if I waited around all night, there’s no way I could figure out who her paramour is. I can’t even get to the elevator without hotel security waylaying me.”
“Thus, making it impossible for you to find out who’s way laying her,” Veronica mused.
Keith groaned, but she could see his relief at her active participation in the conversation.
“You’ve been spending too much time with Logan,” he said affectionately. “Your sense of humor used to be way better.”
Veronica couldn’t quite muffle a smile.
“So, I guess you want me to go in and try to check out a selection of hotel bills within the time frames our mystery man has been there before? What’s my angle, grieving young widow who suspects her late husband was having an affair?”
“That’s a good one,” Keith said approvingly. “Takes care of any question of confidentiality.”
“Plus, most concierges are very uncomfortable with human emotion. A few fake tears should scare the financial records right out of ‘em.”
“I am a little disappointed,” Keith sighed. “I was really hoping that this time I’d get to be the pregnant teenager.”
“It’s good to have dreams,” Veronica grinned, patting his knee as they pulled up to the valet stand.
A half hour later, Veronica was dabbing a damp paper towel under her eyes in the ostentatious ladies’ room in the lobby of the Grand. The fake waterworks had yielded a ton of hotel bills for the time periods the assignations had taken place, but there hadn’t been an overlapping name in the bunch. So, they were effectively back to square one.
Oddly enough, Veronica didn’t mind. She was actually looking forward to grabbing dinner with her dad and running some more angles for the case. When they had a mutual project, some kind of shared goal, it was easy to forget for a while that he was keeping things from her.
She had really kind of been missing her daddy-daughter time. Not that she would be admitting that out loud anytime soon.
Veronica patted her face dry and met Keith in the lobby.
“I was thinking Chinese?” he suggested.
“You should probably master thinking in English, first,” she countered, and he rolled his eyes.
They had almost made it to the front door when the strains of Latin music filtering through the lobby stopped Veronica in her tracks.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Keith looked down at her, concerned.
“Come with me,” she said enigmatically. “I’m fairly certain it’ll be worth your while.”
Veronica followed the rhythm of the music to its place of origin, tugging her dad by the elbow. She positioned them behind a large potted tree and peered into the large ballroom, her eyes scanning the twirling dancers within.
“There,” she hissed, pointing to the far right corner.
“Is that … Lamb?” Keith asked incredulously.
“Oh, it is indeed,” Veronica said gleefully. “I think the more important question is … is he wearing toreador pants?”
“Please tell me you have heavy-duty surveillance equipment in that bag of yours,” Keith muttered, rubbing his hands together.
“Never leave home without it,” she said triumphantly, producing her camcorder with a flourish.
“I raised you so well,” Keith said proudly, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
Veronica smiled fondly at him before lifting the camera to her face and zooming in close.
“I’m still not clear why you needed my help setting up for this party,” Veronica said, sprawling out on the couch and casting a look around Logan’s new living room. “I always thought the recipe for an ’09er soiree was, ‘take one part rich kids and five parts alcohol and stir’.”
“That’s not entirely accurate,” Logan said, settling down on the opposite end and pulling her feet onto his lap. “We sometimes also have bonfires.”
“Shoot. I forgot about that.” Veronica snapped her fingers. “Well, I was going to suggest you have pony rides to liven up the shindig, but I don’t think I’m comfortable bringing ponies around open flames. Somebody might get ideas.”
“Mmm, pony burgers,” Logan sighed contentedly, and she laughed as she halfheartedly kicked him.
“You could have clowns,” she suggested.
“You hate clowns,” he reminded her.
“I know. So I won’t mind so much if someone decides to make clown burgers.”
“You are a sick and twisted individual,” Logan informed her, pulling her around so that she was leaning up against him.
Veronica snuggled up under his arm, sliding into the kind of moment that had eluded the two of them in recent times.
“It’s part of my charm,” she said knowingly.
It was nice seeing Logan relaxed in his own space. Veronica hadn’t entirely understood why he’d decided to buy a house in the first place. After all, if she’d had the kind of money he had access to, she would have been halfway around the world by now. He was positively gleeful about throwing himself a housewarming party, though, and Veronica was starting to get the appeals of homeownership. After all that time virtually living in the pool house off his parents’ house, and then almost a year in a hotel, it was good for him to have a place of his own.
Who would have thought that stability would suit Logan Echolls?
Veronica scooted a little closer to him, tilting her face up and pressing a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth.
“Hey,” he grinned down at her.
“Hey yourself,” she replied.
Logan brushed her hair out of her eyes, and she leaned up into his touch.
The moment was effectively spoiled when Luke, Casey and JP stumbled through the door with an already-tapped keg.
“I drank like, half of this in the car on the way here,” Luke announced proudly.
Logan smiled down at Veronica ruefully.
“Looks like this party has officially started,” he announced, rising to his feet.
Two hours later, the party was in full-force, and Veronica was officially not having fun. The only place not crowded with whooping boys, drunk on Heineken and testosterone, was the back deck, and even that hideout was tainted when Luke stumbled out and puked gloriously and voluminously over the railing.
Veronica sighed and grabbed her bag, gingerly stepping around Luke.
“I think I’m going to go,” she told Logan, shouting over the booming music.
“But it’s still early!” Logan protested, following her to the door.
“Yeah, I know, but it’s a little crazy in there,” Veronica said, rubbing her arms uncomfortably. “Anyway, I told my dad maybe I could help him some more with this case he’s working, so …” She looked toward the door to avoid too much eye contact. Though she was telling the truth about her Dad, her escape had a lot more to do with the way ’09er parties still made her want to flee. Even if the ’09er throwing the party happened to be her boyfriend.
“Okay,” Logan said dubiously. “Well, call me later, just so I know you didn’t get into too much trouble.”
“I’ll be with my dad. How much trouble could I get into?”
Logan raised an eyebrow.
“Point taken,” Veronica sighed. “Fine, I’ll call you when I get home. By the way, you might want to check on Luke. The last time I saw him, he was throwing up that half of a keg he drank out on your back porch.”
“Oh, that’s just great,” Logan griped. “Thank you for that.”
“Have fun!” Veronica chirped brightly, kissing him quickly before hopping into her car. Logan watched her pull away, hands on hips, frowning slightly before turning towards the sound of glass breaking inside with a roll of his eyes.
Veronica was nearly knocked over by Backup as she threw the door open to the apartment, his whole body wagging. He made a low whine, snuffling against her hand.
"Hey, boy. What's up?" She looked around as she ruffled his ears and patted his wriggling back, noting the single lamp on in the living room. Brows drawing together, she called out. "Dad?"
Releasing Backup, she walked towards her Dad's room before a piece of yellow legal paper caught her eye on the counter. The line between her eyes deepened when she recognized her Dad's neat printing. Just as she went to pick it up, her cellphone began to play, the strains of Whitney Houston belting out ‘The Greatest Love of All’ filling the kitchen. Eyes rolling automatically at Logan’s self-selected ringtone, Veronica snapped it open and offered a quick 'Hey' even as her eyes began to scan the note.
...turned out the perp was a Neptune Grand staffer using empty rooms to meet with his lady love, so no records. Thanks for the assist last night ....
The sounds of the party were muffled, making Veronica assume Logan had locked himself into his bedroom, likely the only spot in the house safe from partygoers.
"Veronica? Are you home?" Logan asked.
"Yep, I'm here." She tensed as she read the end of the note.
A few seconds of silence hung over the line, as Logan waited for more. "Oookay. Is everything cool?"
"Yes, everything is -" Veronica's eyes scanned the last line of Keith's note for the second time, her voice tightening. " - fine. It's fine."
Hope you had a good time at Logan's party, but not too good a time. On a case tonight, so I'll see you in the a.m. Love, Dad
"Veronica, you don't sound - " A loud thump came through the phone. " - damn it, hold on."
"I'll let you go, Logan. Talk to you tomorrow." Without waiting for a reply, Veronica flipped the phone closed and walked to the couch, note in hand. Crumpling it in a ball, she flopped onto the couch with a sigh.
Backup came over, nuzzling into her hand once again. She looked down at him, wistfully. "It's just you and me, bud. Looks like Dad’s the only one spending quality time with the seedy underbelly of Neptune tonight.”
Veronica sat on the couch for all of five minutes before she got restless. It was easy to blame it on disappointment in her Dad for once again leaving her on the outside looking in. But the truth was that she simply wanted to be doing what she did best: uncovering secrets, tracking down the bad guy and generally putting her nose where it didn’t belong. She glanced down at Backup, now sacked out by her feet, and couldn’t hide a sudden grim smile. There was one seedy underbelly she’d been meaning to go after for the last few days.
Five minutes later, she cranked the engine of the LeBaron and pulled out onto the dark, wet streets of Neptune, bag full of trusty surveillance equipment at her side. Her mind was on the task at hand, but she didn’t fail to notice a glossy red Mustang coming around the corner and falling in behind her.
The Mustang stayed with her as she made her way downtown. Veronica adjusted her rearview mirror and frowned. She supposed it could be a coincidence that the car was heading across town at the same time she was, but it didn’t feel like one. And her Dad, when he was actually communicating with her, had taught her to always trust her instincts. Her eyes darted to the mirror and back to the road, trying to write it off to her mood. To the sense that things in her life were just a little bit off. When the Mustang made a turn just before she reached her destination, Veronica released the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding and re-focused on her goal.
On a quiet side street, she slumped down into the seat, pointing her camera just barely out of the open window. His house was nondescript, small, tucked away in an equally nondescript neighborhood. The presence of flowers in the yard surprised her, but the jacked up pickup truck complete with busty lady mudguards in the driveway did not. No sign of his patrol car, but there was a small garage. It was probably ill-advised to advertise where you lived when you were the Sheriff in a town like Neptune. Luckily, Veronica had access to that information anyway, and she had kept it tucked away for a rainy night just like this one.
He was home, and giving her nothing from the outside. Sighing, Veronica dropped her head onto the seat back. Normally, she was a lot more patient on stakeouts, but the image of him flashing that smug smirk and wishing harm to her father in his own only slightly indirect way, was making her antsy. She opened her eyes, noting the three windows on the lower floor with lights on. It wouldn’t take long to check them. Decision made, Veronica slung her bag over her shoulder and approached his house from the side, knowing the minute her foot hit his neatly trimmed grass that she was crossing a line. Something in her couldn’t seem to care. If he had a hand in her Dad’s shooting, it wasn’t the last line she was willing to cross.
In the second lit window, she found Lamb sprawled in a recliner, watching TV, drinking a beer. Ten minutes later, he was still watching TV. And drinking a beer. Veronica felt her leg begin to cramp and hoped his neighbors couldn’t see her. Just when had she resigned herself to a return trip to the car since even Lamb was letting her down tonight by not speaking aloud to an empty room about his insidious plot to kill her Dad, she heard a sound. She froze as the steps got closer to her hiding spot and began to look around for an escape route.
Veronica turned just in time to see Logan exit the shadows, exposing himself to view to at least five houses. She gestured him low to the ground, face contorted, but he just kept on loping to her, glancing around.
Yanking him to her and down, Veronica spit her next words in a harsh whisper. “Dammit, Logan. What the hell are you doing here?”
His voice was an equally rough whisper. “I’m not the one playing Little Bo Peep at some random dude’s house, Veronica,” he snapped at her. Logan looked towards the street. “Where the hell’s your Dad, anyway?”
Realization dawned on her face.
“Did you - are you driving a red Mustang?” Veronica said, forgetting to whisper. It was hard to remember much of anything, except all the myriad ways she could kill Logan at the moment.
He had the grace to look sheepish at this comment. “Yeah. It’s JP’s. The Xterra was blocked in and he was in no condition to argue. Guess you saw me?”
She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “Not cool, Logan. Why are you following me?”
“Where’s your Dad?” Logan returned to his earlier question, slightly exasperated.
“Look, my Dad took off on his own case tonight, so I’m staking out Lamb. I can’t help but think he might know something more than he’s letting on about the shooting. You remember how he acted the other night. He was taunting me.” Veronica cut a look in the window, lowering her voice again. She could see Lamb stand up and head toward the hallway and her eyes widened.
Logan matched her tone. “Yeah, and he never does that just to make you crazy, right, Veronica? This seemed like the kind of job you should do completely by yourself? At the fucking Sheriff’s house?” He ran his hand through his hair, shuffled out of his half-crouch just as she grabbed him and pulled him up.
“An excellent question, Ms. Mars. Now, turn around. Slowly. You too, Mr. Echolls.”
They both breathed out, one word between them.
“Fuck.”
“This might be a little cozy, but I hear you two are dating again. Hey, for all I know, it may not be the first time you’ve done this.”
The metallic rasp of the handcuffs locking made Veronica grit her teeth. Lamb was enjoying this entirely too damn much.
“Y’know, Sheriff,” Logan glanced around the interior hallway of Lamb’s house, noting a Meritorious Service Award and half-expecting to see his Boy Scout badges framed, “I’ve had my occasional brushes with the law. And I just have this feeling the papers would have a field day with you cuffing two teenagers in your house when you’re off-duty. It has a certain... unseemly quality to it.”
“Plus, you’re wearing a Journey t-shirt. Also unseemly,” Veronica added, nodding, taking her cue from Logan on the false bravado front. Glancing over at his smirking face, she realized the bravado might not actually be false.
“Oh, take it easy on him. It’s not his fault that he won’t stop believing. He just wants to hold onto that feeling.” Logan winked at her and she bit down on her lip to keep from grinning at him. As infuriating as he could be, it wasn’t hard to remember why she was dating him in the first place. His penchant for mouthing off to the very people who could make his life hell was something she could relate to quite well.
She nodded seriously at Logan before turning to Lamb with an innocent expression. He narrowed his eyes at both of them. “Keep talking, wiseasses. Just digging your own graves. I’ve got you dead to rights for trespassing.” Her eyes widened when she realized Lamb was about to search her bag and would easily find her mini digital camcorder. Surely, he would make up some new charge to bring for that little item. Plus, it was a birthday gift.
Her eyes landed on the TV, and her salvation. Literally. “Touched by an Angel? Well, now I really do feel bad. Logan, we interrupted Lamb’s special time with the Lord.”
Swallowing a snicker, Logan shook his head at Lamb, who looked like a deer caught in headlights, his hand frozen on the strap of Veronica’s bag. “Dude.”
Lamb hesitated, torn between the TV and the smartass teenagers in front of him. He shrugged and retorted defensively, “Shut it. And, whatever. The Irish chick is hot.”
Logan widened his eyes. “Della Reese is Irish?”
Lamb made a choking sound, but before he could retort, Veronica jumped in. “What, you couldn't find any old-school Degrassi reruns to wile away your Saturday night?"
“Keep going,” Lamb warned them. “Keep going and see what happens.”
“Or what?” Veronica said witheringly. “You’re going to handcuff us even more than you already have?”
She held up her right wrist, dragging Logan’s left arm with her, as she jangled their shared restraints.
“He sure does seem to handcuff me a lot,” Logan mused to Veronica. “I think he has a crush on me.”
“That would make a lot of sense,” she said, confidentially. “And if he handcuffs people he has crushes on, well, he must write my name with little hearts around it on his notebook.”
“Oh, whatever,” Logan scoffed. “He’s handcuffed me more times than he’s handcuffed you.”
“Dream on!” Veronica said indignantly.
“I got arrested on election night,” he reminded her. “Donny obviously wanted to share his special day with me.”
“He sent his minions to pick you up. That totally doesn’t count.”
“Yeah, well, he made me keep the cuffs on in his office later,” Logan mumbled.
“Pfft, I got arrested at school,” Veronica said derisively. “Beat that.”
Lamb put his hands on his hips, a muscle in his jaw starting to twitch as he watched the verbal tennis match continue. He half-hoped one of them might implicate the other and give him even more to charge them with.
“I was arrested at school, too! For the bong thing.” Logan jerked his head toward Veronica as he looked at Lamb. “Incidentally, she framed me for that.”
“Yeah, but that was by Deputy Sacks, and you weren’t even handcuffed,” Veronica cut in before Lamb could respond. “The Sheriff here came down personally to the school, with his shiny handcuffs of kinky weirdness and hauled me away. You were there. I remember you taking great pleasure in my walk of shame.” She turned her attention to Lamb, who seemed to be fast losing his patience with this little game. “And, just to remind you, I was framed for that, too. Man, does the whole department fall for frame-ups, or what? Must be your stellar leadership.”
“Didn’t he arrest you and Duncan together once, too?” Logan asked.
“Yes. And! He arrested me after Duncan fled the country. He brought a couple of burly dudes with him, too. I think he was afraid I might distract him with something shiny and escape.”
“You’re right,” Logan conceded, nodding seriously. “I think he does like you better.”
“Oh my God, I don’t like either one of you!” Lamb finally erupted. “No wonder you two got back together. Probably no one else can stand to be around either one of you.”
Logan’s face went blank at that, and the corner of Veronica’s mouth twisted slightly.
“So, if the smartass portion of the evening is over,” Lamb continued. “Why don’t we get to the point of this nightmarish little tête-à-tête? Namely, what the hell were you two doing skulking around in my yard?”
“Thinking of bringing some gentrification to your shitty neighborhood?” Logan muttered.
“Try again,” Lamb shouted.
“Actually, we weren’t skulking around in your yard,” Veronica said tightly. “I was skulking around in your yard, until Marcel Marceau over here decided to crash my stakeout.”
“Hey, don’t turn this around on me,” Logan retorted, pulling far enough away from her so that no part of him touched her, the chain of the handcuffs their only link. “You just took off, and I find you across town, alone in the dark, prowling around in someone’s yard. And you act like it’s so ludicrous that I worry about you.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Veronica protested.
“And what is that?” Lamb asked again, his frustration evidently mounting.
“I’m trying to find out exactly how you’re involved in my father’s shooting!” Veronica burst out. She was mortified to realize she was on the verge of tears.
“What are you talking about?” Lamb asked incredulously. For the first time since he dragged the two of them into his house, he looked genuinely startled.
“You, with your comments the other night about how it was such a crying shame that the shooter didn’t do a better job of trying to kill my Dad. Or maybe you were hoping he would have hit me, too? Even Logan? Three birds, one stone?” Her voice was vehement, nearly shaking with anger. Logan looked from Veronica to Lamb, surprised. They had barely spoken of that night since it happened.
Lamb shook his head. “Veronica, you never make any sense and you’re making even less now. I didn’t shoot your Dad, for Christ’s sake. I don’t have to listen to this bullshit in my own house, so I suggest you-”
“Where were you the night he was shot?” Veronica glared up at him, undeterred. If the sneaky, stakeout method didn’t work, the full on attack would just have to do.
“None of your business.” He grabbed Veronica’s shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
She tried to visibly relax, angling for a way to get a straight answer from Lamb.
“Look, Veronica,” Lamb drawled, reveling in making the snappish Veronica Mars speechless for a few moments. “You can either think of me as an incompetent loser, or as an evil mastermind. But it’s kind of hard for me to be both. You can believe me, or not. Either way, you need to stay the hell out of my yard. In fact, just stay away from me altogether. The last thing I need is to spend another evening at the dinner theater of horror that is your relationship. Jesus. And I thought I had girl problems.” He smacked Logan on the shoulder. “My condolences.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t have girl problems if you didn’t date high-schoolers,” Veronica said snidely.
“And maybe you wouldn’t keep getting handcuffed if you didn’t keep breaking the law. Now, wait here while I go and change into my uniform. This shirt is a classic and I don’t plan on getting it dirty when I take you in and book you.”
“You’re going to book us?” Veronica said incredulously.
“Um, yeah?”
She shook her head, finding her mental footing again. “That is so not a good idea.”
“Oh really. And why is that?”
“Reach into my bag and hand me my camcorder.” She narrowed her eyes at him, gesturing to the bag with her free hand.
Lamb looked at her suspiciously.
“Oh, relax. It’s not going to self-destruct in thirty seconds, if that’s what you’re worried about. Hand it over.”
It was a little awkward, flipping open the camera one-handed and scrolling through the files until she found the one she wanted. After a moment, though, the faint sounds of Latin music could be heard throughout the living room.
Lamb’s eyes widened.
“Where did you … how did you …”
“Does the where and how really matter?” Veronica asked rhetorically. “What matters is, I have it. And don’t even think about breaking my camera there, champ. I have backup files on computers that you’ll never even find. You take me in, and two words are going to bring you down. What words, you ask? Paso. Doble.”
“Oh wait, I’ve got three more words,” Logan couldn’t resist chiming in. “With your mom.”
Veronica sent him a small, grateful smile. Logan shrugged, almost imperceptibly, then turned his attention back to the recording.
“Ooh, the way the light’s hitting you in that ballroom, it looks like you might be getting a little thin on top,” Logan continued, warming up a little.
Lamb’s hand flew up self-consciously to his hair, and Veronica stifled a laugh.
“It’s all right,” Logan assured him. “Bald can be sexy.”
“Oh God, not the Lex Luthor thing again,” Veronica groaned.
“Can I help it if Michael Rosenbaum portrays him as a complex and compelling villain, with a touch of pathos, and still looks good doing it? Donny, you should really check him out. You might pick up a few pointers, if you decide to shift away from incompetence and go the evil mastermind route.”
Lamb pressed his lips together in a thin white line.
“Fine,” he bit out. “I’ll let it go this one time. But I’m not kidding. You need to stay away from me. Take your conspiracy theories and go play in someone else’s backyard. Preferably across the county line, so I don’t have to deal with you.”
“Ah, one more thing, Lamb. Where were you the night my Dad was shot?” Veronica’s voice snapped across the room, the same question, but this time fully loaded. When he narrowed his eyes at her, she wiggled the camera at him. “I also caught your attempts at West Coast Swing. The internet is anxiously awaiting your debut...”
He reached out and hauled their wrists towards him, unceremoniously uncuffing them. Veronica rubbed at her chafed skin resentfully, and Logan absentmindedly drummed his fingers against his leg.
“I was at the county firing range. Getting re-certified.” Lamb walked to the door and yanked it open, frowning.
Veronica laughed for just a moment. “Failed the test, did you? Now, that is almost as embarrassing as your dance costume.” It didn’t settle her suspicions completely, but it was at least something she could easily verify with a few phone calls.
“Unless you want to stay and play a game of Risk, you can go now,” he said brusquely, and Veronica rose to her feet. Logan was two paces behind her as she made her way to the front door.
“Hey, Echolls,” Lamb called out, and they both paused and turned to face him.
“You might want to start reconsidering the company you keep,” Lamb smirked. “I mean, first it was the bong set up. And now, she almost got you arrested tonight.” He paused, tapping his chin in thought. “And, if I remember correctly, she turned you in for murdering your other girlfriend. Have you two ever considered couples counseling? Might help you work out some of those trust issues.” He grinned, first at Logan and then at Veronica.
Logan brushed past Veronica abruptly, but she stood stock still for a moment, her gaze locked with Lamb’s. His were amused and she remembered why she hated him so effortlessly.
“Have a great night,” he said insincerely, giving her a little finger wave. “Drive safe, now.”
Veronica reciprocated with a hand gesture of her own, slamming the door behind her on the way out.
Logan was still outside, pacing the sidewalk. Veronica wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved that he hadn’t taken off after Lamb’s parting shot.
“Look,” she sighed, stepping in front of him so he had to stop walking and look at her. “I’m sorry about that whole thing.”
“Whatever,” he said dismissively.
“Logan, I really was supposed to meet my dad,” Veronica protested. “But he bailed on me, and I just couldn’t stay at home and do nothing. This thing is driving me crazy. I have to figure it out.”
“You could have called me,” he cut her off. “I would have come with you. You can’t just keep running off and doing these things on your own. I mean, you thought Lamb was involved in your dad’s shooting, and so you went to his house in the middle of the night, alone, and unarmed, without telling anyone where you were? Just think about it for a second, Veronica. You’re smart, but you sometimes do incredibly stupid things.”
“I didn’t want to take you away from your party,” she said lamely.
“I wouldn’t have cared,” he said quietly. “I only had the stupid party because I thought you and I might have some fun. We all used to do things like that before, you know?”
“Well, parties aren’t exactly fun for me anymore,” she snapped.
Logan sighed.
“I...but it was my party, Veronica. At my house. And you didn’t even -” He sighed. “I don’t know what to do. You want to go on pretending that everything is fine, but it clearly isn’t. And I just, I can’t-”
Veronica reached out and gingerly touched his shoulder. He stiffened, but didn’t shake off her touch.
“I know I say this a lot, but it really isn’t the right time to talk about this,” she said, indicating Lamb’s silhouette through his front window.
“So pick a time,” he implored.
Veronica shrugged helplessly, and Logan pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I’ve got to get back to my house,” he said flatly. “With my luck, those guys have burned it down. Are you coming?”
Veronica hesitated.
“I should get back home,” she hedged. “I want to be there in case my dad gets back.”
She shifted her bag to other shoulder, searching Logan’s face. He evaded her gaze.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said firmly.
“You can’t keep running away, Veronica. I don’t … you just can’t, okay?”
He turned and walked back towards JP’s car, not bothering to wait for a response.
His taillights had long since faded into the distance by the time she began to head towards her car.
To Be Continued
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