It's been seven years since Veronica Mars left Neptune. There hasn't been a day that she regrets it. Of course she'll admit to missing her dad, and Mac and Wallace, and sometimes even Weevil, but the place and the majority of memories that were made there? She can live without the constant reminders.
Now that she's working as an investigative journalist in San Francisco, a career that she had accidentally taken up while in law school, she can justify the snoopish behavior that had made her so many enemies before. It's been nearly a decade since she officially retired the title of PI, and she's still, at least as her last boyfriend had put it, "the butch Nancy Drew." That had been enough to stop taking his phone calls; she wasn't butch, and she didn't like the lazy Nancy Drew comparisons.
So, when she answered her cell phone one morning at work against her better judgment and heard the slow surfer-boy drawl of "Heeeey, white trash Nancy Drew, how's it hanging," she immediately hung up. Dick, after seven years of radio silence, sounding wasted as ever and calling her? Probably a bad omen.
As her coworkers joked about the latest Kardashian plastic surgery rumor, Veronica sat and mulled over her surprise phone call. Contrary to what her friends and her dad thought, she hadn't transferred schools and left Neptune just because of a leaked sex tape or a couple other really, really bad mishaps. Those things had all contributed to it, but the straw that had broke the camel's back? That straw belonged to Dick Casablancas. After a crap week that culminated in her father losing the Sheriff's election to someone else, she had gone out and gotten wasted with Mac, and woke up the next morning sore, smelling like booze and puke, and in bed with Dick. Dick. Casablancas. Dick Casablancas, as in the guy who had contributed to what were arguably the worst years of her life. Dick Casablancas, her ex-boyfriend's best friend. It was wrong on so many levels, and also the nail in the coffin that made her realize that no matter where she was in Neptune, it was still Neptune and she had to get out while she still could. So she convinced the lovely admissions staff at Stanford that she wasn't the same crazy person who had turned their institution down the year before, packed up her stuff at the end of the semester, and headed north.
After considering it Veronica tried calling Dick back, because if nothing else, he would be entertaining to laugh at and hopefully given his state that fateful night, he wouldn't remember the things that were still clearly printed in her brain. She waited, listening to the tone, before being sent to voicemail. Exasperated she waited to be prompted to leave a message, but instead of hearing Dick, she heard, "You've reached Logan, with today's inspirational message…" Veronica shocked, dropped the phone, before scrambling to pick it up and hang up.
"Shit. Shit," Veronica muttered, "This is not what I need right now…" Molly the copywriter shot Veronica a death stare. Staring her down with equal mirth, Veronica scrambled out of her cubicle, phone in hand. Watching the phone warily, Veronica walked out of the shiny, metropolitan high rise. She was pushing through the revolving door when she looked up and saw not one, but two of her ghosts. Dick and Logan casually walking through the crowd up to the building where she worked, on the same day she gets drunk dialed by Dick? Definitely not a coincidence. Debating whether or not she should just try to blend in with the crowd and run away, she notices Dick pointing and waving wildly at her. She can't escape now, especially since people are turning to look at the man yelling "Ronnie, Roooonnie, we're over here, we got your phone call!"
She strides over, putting on her best "I'm so happy to see you" face, "Hi Dick, I only called back to see why you drunk called me. Aren't we a little old to be drinking this heavily at ten in the morning?"
"No way, I haven't had a drink in like, two days. You must be hearing things Ronnie." To which Veronica promptly rolled her eyes.
"Nope Dick, that's kind of just how you sound. All the time. Veronica just doesn't seem to remember things, or people," Logan said, without any emotion.
Veronica finally made eye contact with Logan, and she couldn't read what she saw there. She flashed her gaze back to Dick's face, "So what prompted you fine men to come and seek me out? Did you lose some steroids or maybe get accused for murder or rape, again, and need me to clean up after your mess? Because if so, I've got to let you boys down, I've put that business behind me."
"Haha, you know me so well Ronnie, but like, that's a no. I'm not trying to get stuck in the pen with some crazy cholos who I probably screwed with in high school."
"So do what do I owe this massive pleasure," asked Veronica, while shooting a glance at Logan, who was still watching her intently.
"Well, I mean… Logan come on, pick up the slack for me and tell her, man."
Logan, ripping his gaze from Veronica long enough to nod at Dick, began,"We had decided to work with some people… I thought it might be good to get into business with some of the common folk. But that idea went to shit, because now it looks like someone's been embezzling from that end of our company. We were hoping that you could put your magic detective skills to work and help us figure this out."
"You do realize that there's people who actually do this thing for a living: the police, the FBI, hundreds of PIs in need of work, my father among them?"
"Yeah V, but that's not…"
"No, I haven't talked to either of you in years, and you just waltz back in here asking for favors? This isn't how this works, Dick."
"No, Veronica I guess it isn't. Because if it's not benefiting you somehow, all of a sudden it isn't worth the effort. Where have you been the last few years? I mean seriously, you just disappear out of the lives of everyone who cared about you. Have you actually looked at your dad, V? I've seen him a few times since you moved up here, and he isn't the same. I mean hell, he's actually gone out of his way to be nice to me, which is more than he did when we were ever together."
"Can we just leave my dad out of this? Why do you think I should be the one to do this for you?"
"Because you're the only one we can trust," Logan said.
"Bro, speak for yourself, I've always thought she was squirrely, man. If she doesn't want to, then good riddance. I'm gonna go find the chauffeur, Logan, I can't stand this hippy ass place," Dick said, backing away. Once Logan had turned back to face Veronica, Dick flipped her off.
"He's a class act, that one. I'm not exactly sure what you see in him, Logan."
"What did you see in him," Logan questioned knowingly.
Veronica ignored his question, asking him instead, "Logan, who the hell did you get mixed up with? Because honestly, if I had to put money on anyone who would embezzle money it would be Dick. It runs in his blood, you know?"
Logan squirmed a little but answered, "It wasn't Dick, it was Liam Fitzpatrick."