Disclaimers: It's RT's sandbox, I just play in it (though, that bulldozer is mine!)
Spoilers: All the way up to 3.06 "Hi, Infidelity."
XxXxXxX
"Economics! Economics will put them to sleep!" Professor Davis wheezed as she clicked through a procession of Power Point slides showing her friends.
Wallace wore a ridiculous straw hat and was twirling an orange pumpkin on his finger. "If I only had a major, Veronica. Help me find my major."
Mac was made of computer parts. "I lost my sex drive, Veronica. Help me fall in love again."
Weevil was riding around on a tricycle with a lion painted on it. "I lost my roar, V. Help me get it back."
Lamb stood at the end of a red brick path. "Go see the Wizard, Mars. He'll help you."
"Who's the Wizard?" Veronica asked. She looked down for her red shoes. But all that she had were shackles around her ankles. She tried to run, but she was rooted to the spot. Her heart was on the ground in front of her, beating slowly. She tried to grab it. But Logan, dressed in green, shook his head and took it from her fingers. He tore in neatly into two pieces.
Lamb laughed and he didn't stop.
The sudden shuffle of books being shoved into bags and impatient students scrabbling out from under their desks snapped Veronica out of the dream she'd been having since her econ professor had started showing slides about oligarchic societal efficiency. Not that that wasn't the bees knees.
Veronica collected her (blank) notes and began the standard scramble to get nowhere. She was almost out the door when she heard her name. She winced. She sincerely hoped Professor Davis wasn't going to call her out for napping. Not that she's actually ever seen that happen in her time at Hearst. Still, if it could happen, it would happen to her.
"Veronica? Veronica Mars?" the voice asked again, this time from much closer. Veronica stopped and turned, expecting a tweedy woman behind enormous glasses, but instead coming face to face with a petite, olive-skinned brunette, nervously twisting the handle of her cotton tote.
"Yeah, that's that they call me," Veronica answered, feeling slightly stupid.
"You're the detective, right?" She looked hopeful for a fleeting moment, but it was replaced at once with anxiety.
Veronica quirked a brow at the girl. "Depends on who's asking."
The girl looked around at the emptying auditorium. The only person that remain was the the tech guy who was gathering up the computer equipment and packing it into a black bag. He had ear buds jammed into his ears and was grooving around, looking comically like an i Pod ad without the crazy colors. He also wasn't paying them any attention in that patented collegiate way.
The brunette nodded back toward the seats. "Can you give me a few minutes?"
Veronica nodded. She could always spare a few minutes if she had the possibility to earn a little cash. Most of the cases she'd had since coming to Hearst were surprisingly low-key. A few cheating boyfriends, some lost possessions and nary a murder in sight. Five hundred dollars never seemed to come so easily. They took seats in the first row and Veronica went straight to business. "What's up?"
The girl glanced around nervously. "It's about my kid sister. She's missing."
Veronica's eyes grew wide. "Well, that's a matter for the sheriff's department, incompetent as they may be."
The girl cut her eyes to the floor. "My family has been to them. The sheriff thinks she ran away."
"He's a real prince, huh?" Veronica noted dryly before continuing, "What do you think happened"
The girl looked back up at Veronica, her lips tight and angry. "She was kidnapped." She cut her eyes away before adding, "Or something. She'd never run away. At least, not without telling me."
"Okay. How old is she? What's her name? What's your name?" Veronica asked, wheels turning in her head. The price for this case might have to be bumped up to include travel expenses.
"I'm Natalie Varisco. Her name is Arienne and she's sixteen." At what she took to be a doubtful look, Natalie rushed on, "Arienne would never do something like this. She's got great grades. She's on the girl's soccer team and she just got the lead in the spring musical. She would never do this!"
Veronica laid her hand on Natalie's arm. "I believe you. Trust me, I'm sure you know her better than most people. And, you certainly know her better than Don Lamb. I'm on your side, okay?"
Natalie nodded. "I know you're not free. But, I have some money saved. I can give you a check for four hundred now. Will that do? I can get more from my parents later."
Veronica nodded. The girl's earnestness kept Veronica from drawing up the financial papers just then. And four hundred was a good start. "I should talk to your parents, too."
The brunette nodded. "Of course. I haven't told them about this, but they'll be glad to meet you. My dad didn't trust Lamb from the minute he shook his hand. He has a thing about handshakes."
"I'll keep that in mind," Veronica noted, glancing at her watch. She had class in twenty minutes. And, it didn't look like she was going to be able to squeeze in a lunch. "So, when and where? It should be soon."
Natalie was already scribbling her address on a blank piece of notebook paper. "Can you come over for supper? My mom likes to feed people. I know it's weird. But, so is she." The girl managed a half-laugh as she handed over the paper.
Veronica shrugged. "Sure. When?"
"Around five is fine. That's when the big house eats. We usually don't get calls then."
"The big house? You live by the prison?" Veronica looked at the address. 90909. "Obviously not."
Natalie rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Fancy address, huh? The house is disgustingly huge, too. But, you can just tell them at the gate that you're there to see me and they'll buzz you in. Follow the driveway around toward the garage. If you park off to the far side, there's a path right to my house."
Veronica just sat back, trying to process what Natalie was saying. Luckily, the girl caught her confusion.
"My family works for the Nestopolouses. My mom is the household manager and my dad is the grounds keeper. My siblings and I work as maids if my mom is short staffed. And since my mom is always on call, we live on the property. It's a smaller house behind the mansion. A much smaller house."
Veronica nodded. "Okay, well, I'll see you around five then."
The girl nodded, a sad smile brightening up her face. "Thanks, Veronica."
o0o0o0o0o
"No, dad, I 'm not selling myself tonight. That's Monday through Wednesday. The other hos get mad if I work their corners on Thursday. And I thought you knew me."
"You know, honey, prostitute humor is classy. But, somehow, when it involves you, it never makes me laugh."
Veronica giggled. "Gee, well, it never fails for me. No accounting for taste, I guess." She waited a beat for her father's return chuckle before continuing. "Really, though, I am doing something normal. I'm going to a friend's house for dinner." And, Veronica thought, if you conflate 'friend' with 'client,' it's not a lie.
"All right. I guess it would be impolite to ask for a doggy bag?"
"Probably. Tell Back Up to just share his Purina with you tonight."
"Oh, goody. I'm glad I bought the stuff with the beef and liver, then! Well, I guess I won't get to see you until Sunday."
"I guess so. Be careful in Vegas. They don't call in Sin City for nothing."
"Always am, honey. And besides, Cliff and I are going on the account of one of his client's vices, not ours."
"Funny how vices are all the same among men," Veronica joked.
"More hooker jokes? You need a new shtick," Keith paused for Veronica's laugh before going on, "Be careful while I'm gone, okay?"
"Always am. I love you."
"Love you, too, honey."
Once she hung up with her dad, she swung a left up a wide, tree-lined avenue. It was so familiar, it made her skin tingle and her stomach drop all at once. She slowed to a crawl and peered around.
As it was late November, the sky was already dark. Most houses glowed warmly from front porches or windows. One house in particular stood out. The Kane residence sat dark and unused behind privacy hedges. They weren't overgrown, so the place was obviously kept up. But, every other house had two nondescript Rubbermaid trash bins on the curb. The Kane's did not. Not trash to collect from the Kane's. None of them lived in Neptune anymore.
Veronica took a right on Park Lane. On the left stood the empty lot where the Echolls mansion had been before the PCHers had added arson to their list of Felonies to Commit Before Eighteen. Another place filled with memories. Some better than others, of course. She tried to redirect her thoughts away from Logan, half-naked and draped across a lounge chair by the pool. So, she looked at the Nestopolous home.
It sat across the street from the Echolls charred property. Like the surrounding homes, it was contemporary and would have been elegant if it were not for the huge fountain, front and center on the lawn. It depicted seven ladies, draped in cloths, dancing around a winged horse. Each was pouring water and the horse was spurting it from its mouth. I 'll bet the neighbors just love that! Veronica thought, laughing out loud at the ridiculous ornament. She stifled her giggles long enough to tell the intercom that she was there to see the Variscos.
Whoever had been listening to her request made no reply, but the wrought iron gate swung inward to admit her but still served as a reminder that she was an outsider. As Veronica made her way past the Pegasus fountain, she burst into another round of laughter. All that money and not a drop of class. Ahh, the luxury of being wealthy. 'Tacky' automatically translates into 'eccentric.' Logan would appreciate this.
As soon as the thought burst into her head, Veronica stopped laughing. "Come on, now, brain. Stop doing that!" she said aloud vehemently. She wasn't sure which was crazier: thinking randomly about her ex-boyfriend and things he may or may not find amusing or talking aloud to herself. Probably both.
She straightened herself up and got out of her car. Sure enough, beside the garage, partially hidden by a flamboyant rhododendron, was a small brick path. Veronica followed it.
In front of her was a small, neat house. There was a large shed beside it, fitting since the estate's gardener lived there. There was nothing personal about the home. No sun catchers dangling in the windows or wreath hanging from the door. Not even a welcome mat. But, the flowers that marched around the foundation like a particolored guard were beautiful. They looked more like the wild colored garden that Dorothy encountered when she landed in Oz than anything Veronica had even seen in a greenhouse. She was overwhelmed with a feeling of welcome, even without a mat.
She lifted her hand to knock on the sedate grey door when it was pulled open by a short brunette girl who was probably about eight years old. She took one long look at Veronica and turned around to bellow, "Ma! That detective girl is here!"
Veronica was a little surprised that such a small girl could have such a voice. But, when an equally loud voice answered her, she understood.
"Let her in, then, Maria! Lord, child!" a thin woman with a chic brunette bob and the same olive skinned as both of her daughters appeared behind Maria, drying her hands on a tea towel. "You must be Veronica. Thank you so much for coming. Please, don't mind the insanity. I'm Antonia." The woman said everything so quickly, Veronica got the impression that she'd uttered the same speech for every guest that ventured down the brick path.
Veronica's smile widened as a taller, rail thin girl appeared behind her. Another sister, probably. "Hey ma, the gnocchi are disappearing faster than we can make 'em. Could you get back in here?" The girl looked over her mother's shoulder and apprised Veronica with a quick once-over. "Oh, hey. You must be Veronica. Nice to meet you. Maria! I was wondering where'd you gotten to! You're supposed to be doing the salad!" And with that, they were gone. Another fast talker. Veronica was beginning to worry she'd never get a word in edgewise, let alone a question.
Mrs. Varisco shrugged and gestured toward a room to her left, "Please, come in. Can I get you anything to drink before I go back to slapping my sons' too-eager hands?"
Veronica followed the woman. "No, thanks. Do you need any help? Not that I'm much in the way of the cooking thing, but-" she shrugged.
The older woman smiled, "Natalie said I'd like you. Come on into the kitchen. If nothing else, you can start meeting the clan."
Veronica grinned and followed her. Already, she'd seen three daughters and heard mention of sons. This was going to be interesting.
The kitchen was easily larger than the living room. And it was packed with a riotous bunch of brunette, olive skinned people of varying ages and the delightful smell of simmering tomato sauce and garlic.
A boy, probably around four or five perked up at Veronica's entrance. He dusted flour from his rugby shirt and grinned at her. "Are you the 'tective that's gonna find 'Rienne? Nattie didn't say you were so pretty!"
"Michael!" The reprisal came from Natalie. She swiped her flour-covered hands on a spare towel and moved to Veronica's side. "Sorry about that."
"It's okay. I'll take compliments any way I can get them. You have such a big family!"
Natalie rolled her eyes. "You noticed that, too, huh?" she asked with a laugh. "Yeah, there are six of us." She pointed out everyone as she repeated their names. "Cristina," the thin one from the door, "is only a year younger than me. Anthony is Arienne's twin brother. Maria is eight. And, Michael, how old are you?" she asked, sweetly.
"Five!" he pronounced, proudly holding up the correct number of fingers.
An older man entered the kitchen from another door. He heard his son's answer and scooped him up. "Not yet, ragno. Not until tomorrow," he teased in a thick Italian accent. The boy squealed and wiggled gleefully as the man proceeded to hang the boy upside down by his ankles.
"My dad, Giacomo Varisco," Natalie noted with a grin. Veronica returned her smile.
"Giacomo!" Natalie's mother hollered. He looked vaguely guilty, but then grinned at her. "What do I have to tell you about hanging him up around the sauce, eh? He'll make it taste like stinky feet. And, we have a guest," she finished nodding toward Veronica.
Mr. Varisco set the boy down and shrugged. "Okay, no stinky feet sauce tonight then. Sorry, Miss. It's the only thing I know how to cook. You'll have to be at the mercy of my wife here." He grinned at her before taking Veronica's hand in a firm grip. She returned it.
He smiled. "Ah, good girl, Natalie," he said to his daughter.
She smiled at Veronica. "See, I told you."
They shared a laugh and Mrs. Varisco clapped her hands. "Dinner!"
Semi-organized chaos broke out in the kitchen and Veronica was led to a small dining room. The huge oak table was laden with a an eclectic mix of dishes and flatware. Natalie sat her guest between herself and her mother. Veronica waited eagerly for the next bit of family tradition. She was already caught up in their unique family and she truly wanted to help them find Arienne. And, the more time she spent with them, the more she was convinced that no one would ever willingly leave this.
Natalie turned to Veronica and noted, "My dad always says grace before every meal."
And, indeed, everyone fell silent ( a real task for any large group). Mr. Varisco said a short prayer in Italian and as soon as everyone agreed with a soft "Amen" dishes were passed and forks scraped against plates.
As soon as Mrs. Varisco made sure that her guest had enough gnocchi and salad to feed a small nation, the younger constituents at the table began their own interrogation.
Michael asked, "Did you go to 'tective school?"
"No, I -"
Then Maria, "Do you get to, like, dust for fingerprints? Can I help?"
"I don't really -"
Michael, "I'll help, too! Do you have a... a shiny thing?"
Veronica looked at Natalie. "A badge," the brunette clarified.
"No, I just -" Veronica started.
"Kids! Please, let's show Veronica our manners, okay? Let her eat," Natalie's mom gently chided.
"And, if I'm up on my detective shows, she's going to ask us questions later, okay. Won't that be neat?" Mr. Varisco chimed in.
Both kids nodded. And, soon, conversation turned to Lizzy from Maria's class shooting milk out of her nose (she the proceeded to cry which Maria concluded was "way sissy") and Cristina's upcoming Christmas formal (she was wearing red and her boyfriend was wearing a red vest and her best friend Lisa was wearing black but Cristina thought she was being too boring and...Veronica sort of zoned out as the teenager gabbled on excitedly).
Veronica just sat back and watched. The only one who didn't talk was Anthony. He just pushed his gnocchi around in the sauce and watched the invisible bouncing conversation ball without interest. She attributed this to the fact that his twin sister was missing. And the fact that no one was mentioning it.
Finally, when the detective couldn't shove another bite into her mouth (for home-cooked Italian, Veronica would push aside propriety and stuff herself even in the presence of strangers), Mr. Varisco announced that they'd leave the cleanup for later. There was a general cheer and everyone stayed seated.
Veronica took that as her cue to begin the questions. She looked around the room. "I've never actually questioned such a large group before. So, why don't you all just tell me about Arienne and I'll just ask questions as we go?"
"'Rienne is the bestest sister. She never tol' on me when I colored her door with my crayons," Michael piped up. There was a general chuckle.
"That's great," Veronica replied with a grin. She glanced around the table and narrowed the focus. "Let's start with when you last saw her."
"She never came home from school on Wednesday. So, the last time I actually saw her was that morning," Mrs. Varisco said. "But, Anthony and Cristina said she was in school all day that day and that was confirmed by her seventh period teacher."
"Okay. How about any changes in her daily routine of late? Like normal things that she used to do that she's changed or anything new she's started."
Anthony lifted his head. "She used to text message me every day after her third period gym class because-" he cut himself off and turned scarlet, looking back down at his half-eaten supper.
"Go ahead, Anthony. What is it?" his father pressed.
The boy swallowed, obviously uncomfortable and he continued his inspection of the plate. But he answered, "Well, this girl Katy is in her gym class. And, she would tell me every day if she said anything about me because she did sometimes, you know." He spilled the story quickly, his cheeks flushed. He rushed on, "But, anyway, she hasn't been texting me lately. And, when I asked her about it, she told me that it wasn't any of my business." He shrugged. "I just figured Katy stopped talking about me so I let it go."
"When did this start?" I asked.
"About three weeks ago. But, it's probably no big deal."
Cristina chimed in, "Well, also about that time Arienne started skipping rehearsals or showing up late." She turned toward me. "We're doing Once Upon a Mattress this year for our school. I'm Queen Aggravain and Arienne is Princess Winnifred. She was super excited about it, you know. 'Cause most juniors don't get the leads. But, she has an incredible voice. And Fred has some big numbers. But, it's not like her to miss rehearsals. She didn't even miss them when she was just in the chorus."
"Was there a rehearsal on Wednesday?"
"Yeah, but it was only for the dancers. Arienne and I were going to meet back here to run lines with this other girl, Melissa, who plays Prince Dauntless but Arienne never showed. We just went on without her."
"I read Fred's lines," Maria piped up, proudly.
Veronica smiled at the girl. "What about you, Natalie?"
She shrugged. "I haven't been home since before Halloween because of midterms and, now, finals are coming up. So, the last I heard from Arienne herself was about a month ago. And she didn't say anything out of the ordinary that I can recall. And, then, Mom called me on Wednesday to ask if I'd seen her. And that's it."
Veronica nodded. "What time did your mom call you?"
"I guess it was at about five thirty because I was at dinner with my roommate and she has class until five."
"Is that when you first thought she might be missing, Mrs. Varisco?"
"Antonia, please," she automatically corrected. "Not really. I just figured that Arienne had gone off with one of her friends and forgot to call home. I work at all hours for the Nestopolouses, you know. So, I usually rely on the kids to keep track of one another. But, when Cristina mentioned that Arienne skipped out on running lines, I thought something might be up. That's when I had my husband call the sheriff." She said the word 'sheriff' the way most people say the word 'tarantula.'
"When did they show up?"
"Right away," Mr. Varisco answered. "But, when I explained to the sheriff that she was a sixteen-year-old girl, he just laughed and told me that'd she'd turn up."
Veronica cocked an eyebrow. That man's ability to be a total dick at every turn never failed to amaze her, but still, she couldn't help but be surprised that they hurried right over. But, of course, their zip code probably had something to do with it. "'Turn up?' Lovely." Veronica rubbed the bridge of her nose. "So, it's been, what? Two days? And they haven't been back?"
Mr. Varisco answered again, "No. But, I went down to the department I filed a report. That son-of-a-"
"Giacomo!" Antonia warned. Michael giggled.
"Very lovely woman, I'm sure," he finished, though his voice was strangled. "He's just lucky that he wasn't there, that's all. I talked to a Deputy Baker, I think."
Veronica just nodded. "Well, if there's nothing else," she glanced around and waited a beat before continuing, "Thank you all for your kindness and answering my questions. I'll probably have more, so I'll be in touch. I'll leave my cell number in case you think of anything, too."
She made to stand, and Antonia stood with her, following her toward the door. Once there, she wrapped Veronica in an impromptu hug. When she held Veronica away, she searched her face in earnest. "Please find my daughter. She's a good girl and we miss her." The woman's steely resolve that she'd displayed so well through dinner crumbled and tears slid, unchecked down her cheeks.
Veronica nodded, "I'll do my best. I promise."
The older woman nodded and patted Veronica sleeve. And, with that, Veronica made her way back up the path to her vehicle. She was unaware of the eyes following her back to the car from a window.
o0o0o0o0o
"Hello, ma'am, my name is Kathleen Kerrig and I really need to speak with my sister, Tracy," Veronica said to the man on the opposite side of the Neptune High security desk. Luckily for Veronica, the man was new. As was the security desk.
"What's the nature of your 'need?'" the man asked, his tone bored. Though he wore the standard issue Rent-a-Cop costume, he looked about as intimidating as a miniature poodle would if wearing the same thing. And, he was obviously irritated at having his avid perusal of this month's Cosmo interrupted. And, who wouldn't be upset at having to turn away from "407 Ways to Tickle, Titillate, and Otherwise Torment Your Man?" Veronica thought dryly.
She knew there was only one real way, anyway. But, that didn't sell magazines.
Another thought of Logan dashed through her errant brain again. This time, he was naked and at her mercy... Arrrgh! Stop it! Veronica screamed to herself.
"Any day now," the the security guard prompted.
"Oh, well," Veronica held a bag aloft and let him see the box of tampons.
He colored slightly and looked away. He produced a clipboard and handed her a pen. Works every time.
Veronica signed in as the bell signaling lunch sounded. Perfect timing. She made her way through the crowds, keeping her head down for fear of being recognized. In the bustling courtyard, she located her quarry quickly and made a beeline for them.
"Hello, girls," she announced just as the pizza delivery she'd ordered showed up. "Oh, good, lunch is here."
The 'girls' were Arienne's friends, Amanda, Dawn, and Shara. They looked up at Veronica suspiciously as she paid the man and laid the pie on the table before them.
"Go ahead. It's for you," Veronica glanced around surreptitiously before adding in a stage whisper, "It's a bribe."
The girls exchanged confused look before Shara piped up, "For what?"
Dawn lifted the lid of the box to reveal a large pepperoni, all fresh and hot. She smiled.
"And who are you?" Amanda asked, slamming the lid closed. Dawn pulled a face at her friend.
"Those two go hand in hand. I'm Veronica and Arienne's parent's hired me to look into her disappearance. The bribe is to get you to let me sit with you. And, well, I'm hungry for pizza."
"Veronica?" Dawn asked. Her face brightened, "As in Veronica Mars?"
The detective took her recognition as an invitation and sat down. "The very one." She opened the box and took a slice. The other girls looked at Dawn when she followed suit.
Around a mouth full of pepperoni and cheese, the girl said, "It's cool. She was the one who got my sister the dirt on our parents two years ago."
Veronica grinned. She knew her past as a friend to all things money related would come back to help her one day. "So, I just need to know what has been different about Arienne lately. As in, say, the last two weeks?"
The girls exchanged a look.
"What? What is it?" Veronica pressed. "It's cool, you know. I'm not with the sheriff's department or anything. You won't get into trouble. Anything will help."
Amanda shifted uncomfortably and avoided Veronica's gaze. Shara spoke up, "Come on, Mandy. Tell her."
"Yes, Mandy. Tell me," Veronica prompted.
The girl turned toward Veronica. "Promise me you won't tell her parents that I told you this?"
"That's a hard thing to promise."
"I mean, if it helps her, great. I just don't want them to know that we knew about it, okay?"
Veronica shrugged, "Fine. Out with it?"
The girl took a deep breath. "Arienne's been secretly seeing the Nestopolous' son, Mark."
Veronica cocked an eyebrow. "That's it?"
"Well," Shara put it, "He is twenty four."
"And," Dawn added, "Their parents hate one another. It's totally like Romeo and Juliet, you know!" She sighed, dramatically.
"Yeah, totally," Veronica agreed, dryly. "Well, can you tell me anything about Wednesday? The day she disappeared?"
Shara shrugged, "She was pretty quiet. We tried to get her to tell us about Mark and what they've been doing together. I mean, he's so much older."
Amanda's eyes twinkled devilishly, "It's sad, but we've been living vicariously through her."
"How long have they been seeing one another?" Veronica asked.
"Just about a month. In secret, though. So, that makes it more special, I think," Dawn put in, wistfully.
Moments spent in the back seat of Logan's Xterra flickered through her mind. "I don't know if special is the right word. Intense, maybe."
"Yes!" Amanda exclaimed, "That's it. It's like intense. And, it got super-serious."
"Like, how serious?"
The girls looked at one another again. Amanda ducked her head. "Like, I think they got married."
"No way!" Dawn and Shara exclaimed in unison. Obviously, Amanda had been keeping that one to herself.
"I mean, like, not for real. They exchanged rings and vows and everything. But, a friend of Mark's did it, so I don't think it's, like, legal," Amanda hurriedly explained.
I interrupted the sighs with a dose of reality, "So, do you think she would have run away with this guy?"
Amanda shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, she gets good grades and she's pretty popular. I never thought she would. But, she was really into this guy."
"And she never mentioned it to her parent's or her sisters or her twin brother?"
Shara replied, "Well, her mom and dad work for the Nestopolouses. They aren't exactly friends. And, I think she probably liked having a secret."
"I've got a secret. A big one." Lilly's words came back to her and Veronica felt them so physically, she winced.
"All right. Well, thanks for your help. If you think of anything else, call me." Veronica jotted her number on the pizza box and left them.
o0o0o0o0o
Veronica found herself in Hearst's café, half-looking at her criminology text, half-searching for one Logan Echolls. The very same Logan Echolls who she knew ate here every day after his sociology class. Also, the same Logan Echolls who was no longer her boyfriend. So, technically, she wasn't casually waiting for him, she was stalking him. Well, potato, potahto.
The memory of the last time she'd talked to him floated through her mind, flickering on her brain like a worn print at a low-rent movie theater because she'd gone over the damn thing so many times.
"Why can't you tell me?" Veronica asked. She feared the answer because she knew it wasn't going to be good. "It could help him."
Logan looked away. Veronica's stomach dropped. Whenever Logan wouldn't meet her eyes, something was very wrong. "I just can't."
"Are you protecting Mercer or yourself?"
Logan looked up at her then, "Does it matter? You've already sentenced me for a crime I may or may not have committed. Case Closed. That's what you should rename your business. Mars Investigations makes it sound like you actually look for proof first."
Veronica flinched at his words. When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse. "Logan," she cleared her throat and continued, "I just need to know so I can verify his alibi."
He shook his head. "He didn't rape anyone. That's my word. You can take it or leave it."
As he said the words, Veronica knew that he'd already known what her choice would be. And she almost regretted walking out the door.
Since then, the real Hearst rapist had been captured and Mercer had been cleared. She'd seen Logan around a few times on campus. He was usually escorting some pretty young thing to or from class. And that hurt which was an unexpected feeling.
Finally, she saw him stroll into the cafe, instantly garnering the attention of more than one PYT. Veronica was happy to note that he didn't seem to care. He found a table and sat down, producing a book from which, Veronica assumed, he was going to study. He was actually studying! And, here she was, skipping economics class to stalk him. They had really swapped universes.
Veronica gathered her things and stood. She walked to his table and plopped down across from him.
He lifted his head and just as quickly, turned back to the book in front of him. "I don't supposed 'we don't want any' will work?"
"I just need to ask you something," Veronica said, quietly. Being so close to him and feeling like there was a wall between them set her on edge. She wanted to scream.
"I probably did it. So, I'll save you the trouble. I'll slap myself around a little later for you. I have a quiz in communications in an hour," he came back, still not looking at her.
Veronica sighed. "It's about Mark Nestopolous. Do you know him?"
Logan looked up at the name, his eyes registering shock and confusion briefly.
"I'll take that as a yes."
"By all means. Jump to conclusions," he threw back acidly. When she didn't retort, he added, "I used to know him."
"Well, I think he has something to do with the disappearance of a girl whose family works for his. I think he might have abducted her."
Logan snorted, almost choking on his can of Skist. "That's a surprise," he explained once he stopped choking, "The guy got sent away to some Von Trapp boarding school for the Criminally Homosexual or something when I was, like, seven."
"Come again?" Veronica asked, her brows knitted together.
"You mean to tell me that your super sleuth kit didn't come with this mystery card? Or, are you just picking someone local to pin the crime on? Not that that isn't you usual MO."
"I just thought you might be a useful character witness since you were neighbors. But, obviously, I was wrong," Veronica stood and headed for the doors.
She felt a hand on her elbow before she made it very far. Logan was connected to the hand.
"Look, I can help. I'm just," he paused and ran his hand through his already mussed hair. That gesture used to make her swoon inwardly. It didn't fail to set the butterflies a-flapping this time, either. She hated herself a little for it. He continued, "I've been meaning to talk to you, anyway."
Veronica lifted her brows and they walked together out into the sunshine.
"You left some of your stuff at the suite, is all," he hurried on.
"Well, why don't I meet you there after your class? I can get my things and we can discuss this Nestopolous guy. I have to stop at the library anyway."
Logan nodded and started toward Benedetta Hall. He'd walked a few paces before he stopped and called after her. "Veronica?"
She stopped and turned toward him.
"Don't do anything stupid until then, okay?"
She nodded. "I leave all my stupid decisions for when I'm around you," she muttered under her breath.
o0o0o0o0o
Almost three hours later, Logan was pacing the length of his living room. Veronica hadn't showed up yet. And, damn it all if he wasn't beginning to worry about her.
He was holding his cell in both hands. Every three steps or so, he'd look at it to make sure she hadn't called.
Finally, he pressed the '2' key. Veronica's name appeared on his screen. She was still in his speed dial. He hated himself a little for not changing it. He thumbed the 'Talk' button. He'd almost depressed the key when he was startled by a light knock at the door.
He whipped it open to find Veronica standing in the hallway, fiddling with the strap on her bag.
"What the hell, Veronica?" Logan managed.
Her eyebrows lifted. "Hello? You asked me to come, remember?"
"You're late!"
She raised her hands in mock surrender as she pushed past him. "I didn't know there was a statute of limitations on your invitation."
"I was-" Worried about you. He'd caught the words before they could slip past his lips. Damn it! He'd spent almost an entire month not worrying about her and within just three hours of talking to her... Damn! "What if I had plans?"
Veronica shrugged, "Do you?"
Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Beside the point."
"Do you need something, Logan?" Veronica asked.
Logan blinked and stared at her, afraid to ask what she meant. And more afraid not to.
"Like a Xanax?" Veronica finished with a quirked eyebrow.
Logan shook his head and gestured for her to sit on the sofa. She didn't. Rather, she walked to the television and proceeded to connect a video camera to it.
"How many time do I have to refuse to video tape us having sex? It never turns out well. Remember that Paris Hilton thing?"Logan's attempt to joke fell flat, as his voice was too shaky.
Veronica didn't even turn around. "If I recall, it made her a star. And I have something marginally better than homemade porn. This was on the hood of my car when I left the library this afternoon."
Veronica turned and sat on the smaller sofa, delicately keeping her knees from touching Logan's.
The tape began to play.
It showed a handsome young man with curly black hair dressed in a ridiculously frilly shirt and breeches. He was reciting Romeo's monologue. "But soft! What light through yonder window breaks..."
At the end, he took a short bow and addressed the camera directly, "Marcus D. Nestopolous. October 16, 2000. The Juilliard School for Drama application. Dramatic Monologue."
Logan clapped half-heartedly. "That was sure... invigorating."
"What were you saying about him getting sent away?"
Logan shrugged. "Duncan and I were to forced to invite him over when we were little. He was pretty awful to us at first, because we were so much younger. He never wanted to play sports or anything, but we all got along eventually. Then, one day when Duncan and I were seven or eight, he told us he was going away." Logan paused and looked at the frozen image on the screen. "I remember Aaron saying he was being shipped off to fruit camp."
"Did you really just say 'fruit camp,'" Veronica asked.
Logan shrugged, "The words of a murderer, mind you. I'm just repeating him. Anyway, I guess Duncan and I remembered it or something because when we saw him a few years later, we thought he was gay."
"Well, I did some checking. He went to this ritzy summer drama camp out in the Catskills. And, basically, he never came back. He went to some academy for the performing arts in London until he was eighteen. The, he made this audition tape for Juilliard. He graduated from there and has been performing in stage shows in New York ever since."
"Whoop-dee-doo. What does it all mean, Basil?" Logan intoned in a faux-British accent.
Veronica rolled her eyes, "It means that Arienne lied to her friends and that she never had any relationship with Mark."
"Who's Arienne?"
Veronica explained the situation quickly and it was Logan's turn to roll his eyes. "So, a sixteen-year-old girl made up a romantic story to tell her friends and then split. This isn't exactly earth shattering. I mean, her mom's the maid and he's a rich kid. Have you even met Sean Friedrich? 'Delusions of grandeur' ringing any Veronica-alarms?"
Veronica fixed Logan with a glare, "You know, contrary to popular belief, not everyone is just dying to get into your little country club."
"Sure," was Logan's reply. "Is there anything else, Mars? Why don't just search my room for a missing sixteen-year-old. I might have one laying around."
Veronica bit her lower lip. "Well-" she began.
Logan lifted his eyebrows. "You're actually going to ask me for a favor? Should I be surprised?"
"What I'm going to ask complete negates the very valid point I just made, but I need it anyway," the blonde confessed.
Logan opened his hands charitably, "I can't wait to hear it."
Veronica looked over Logan's head, "I need you to get me into the Nestopolous house."
Logan grinned slowly. "Should I consider you dying or already dead for that?"
Veronica just fixed him with a glare.
"Why bother if you already know that Arienne lied?" Logan asked.
She shrugged. "Well, it's only been a month. There is the possibility that Mark is back in town."
"So, you're actually going to pin the crime on someone who is probably 3,000 miles away? That's bad, even for you."
"No, I'm going to do that crazy 'investigation' thing you're so hep on. I'm into 'benefit of the doubt' these days. And, if I doubt that Arienne told the truth, I'd better get proof."
"Turning over a new leaf, then? Well, I'm happy to help," Logan said with a wide grin.
"Then you must be turning over a new leaf, too," Veronica threw back as they left the suite.
o0o0o0o0o
"Mr. Echolls, Ms. Kane, right this way," the butler... buttled?
Logan and Veronica followed. Logan whispered to her, "Kane? Really?"
"His name is Jeeves, for crying out loud. I was thrown off," Veronica answered out of the side of her mouth.
Logan stifled a laugh as they were shown into a parlor. 'Grandiose' would be a mediocre description. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting gods and goddesses. There were also a creepy assortment of busts on pedestals that Veronica fully expected to erupt into song at any moment. Logan actually picked up Medusa and held it next to his head.
Veronica snickered. She knew Logan would get a kick out of this place.
When he rejoined her, he noted, "It wasn't this bad when we were kids. Or maybe my youthful exuberance appreciated its wackiness."
"You can't even put the word 'wacky' in a sentence describing anything you like," Veronica responded.
"I liked 'Pee Wee's Playhouse.' That was sort of wacky."
Veronica giggled loudly just as Mrs. Aphrodisia Nestopolous was shown into the room. The tall blonde fixed Veronica with a suspicious look before rushing (no easy task in three inch, marabou-featherd slippers) to Logan.
"Oh," she gushed, pulling him into a hug. "You poor thing! All that's happened to you... and now this! Oh, and you were always such a peach."
Logan pulled a face at Veronica over the woman's shoulder and Veronica held back another bout of laughter. She'd never make it through the interview at this rate.
"Yes," Logan answered once he was finally released, "I can't believe they let the arsonist go either. But, anything you could remember from that night would surely be helpful."
"And who is this adorable little thing? Yours?" Mrs. Nestopolous cooed, appraising Veronica.
"Yes," Logan answered. He shook his head and added, "She's my lawyer. Marilyn Kane."
"Kane?" Aphrodisia tapped her upper lip.
"No relation," Veronica provided.
"Oh, hmmm. And you look so like little Petunia."
"Lilly," Logan and Veronica corrected at the same time.
"Yes, yes. That's it. Now, the night of the fire, let me think," the older woman pondered.
"Mrs. Nestopolous, I'm so sorry, but may I please use your bathroom?"
The woman looked confused for a moment, as though thinking about two things at once didn't come naturally. They probably don't teach that skill at Trophy Wife School. Veronica thought cruelly.
"Oh course, Mary. Just go back through the foyer and one of the staff will help you."
A forgetful one, this Aphrodisia. Veronica thought as she smiled graciously and ducked out through the door. Logan should be able to occupy her for awhile.
Veronica had just started up the stairs when she saw a pair of big brown eyes watching her from between the rails of the banister. Maria Varisco.
"Hi, Maria," Veronica said, stopping down to her eye level.
"You lied to Missus. You said your name was different."
Veronica nodded, "Spy stuff. Code name, you know. Don't you have one?"
Maria's eyes grew large with knowing. "Oh! I don't have a spy name! Can I get one?"
"Sure, but a spy has to give it."
"Like you?"
"Yep. What do you want it to be?"
"Judy Garland! She's my favorite!"
Veronica grinned. But, her smile faded with Maria's.
"Did you find Arienne yet?"
Veronica shook her head to the negative, "Not yet. But I'm trying. That's why I'm here."
Maria pressed her lips into a thin line a peered around. "I'm a spy now, right?" she asked.
"Yes, just as much as I am."
"So, it's okay to share spy information, right?" Maria came back.
"Of course. We call it 'intel.'"
Maria grinned and whispered, "Arienne didn't run away-"
"Maria!" Cristina's voice called out from the landing above. "There you are! Mom has been looking for you! Oh, hi, Veronica. Any luck?"
Maria looked at her sharply and blinked furiously. Veronica took that as spy code for 'don't tell.'
"Nope. But I am trying."
Cristina smiled and placed her hand on Maria's shoulder. "Well, bring her home safely. The sheriff hasn't done a damn thing."
"Ooooh! I'm tellin' mom that you swore!" Maria chimed in with a smirk.
Cristina pinched her sister's shoulder. "Come on, rug rat. You'll tell ma no such thing." She smiled at Veronica and marched her sister down the steps. As they exited, Maria launched into a loud rendition of the refrain of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."
Veronica froze on the steps. Suddenly everything fell into place. She raced down the stairs and out the door. She skidded around the garage and down the garden path to the Variscos'.
There were muddy footprints on the plastic threshold of the shed. Not unusual for a gardener. But, the aroma of fresh lasagna coming from within, coupled with a dry laugh track from a television sitcom was.
There was a large padlock on the door, so Veronica turned to walk around the shed in order to find an alternate entry. But, instead, she walked straight into Mr .Varisco.
"Veronica Mars! What a pleasant surprise," the large man said with a grin that didn't quite meet his eyes. He grabbed her arm and held her tight while he unlocked the door with his free hand.
"Sweetheart! I have company for you!" he called out. He thrust Veronica in ahead of him.
Curled up on a pile of blankets lay a lithe girl who looked almost identical to Natalie. She wasn't chained or shackled, but her eyes were dull. There was a plate of partially eaten lasagna on the floor near her little nest and a rerun of "Roseanne" blared obscenely from a small television set. She barely made the effort to look as Veronica was dumped unceremoniously on the floor.
Veronica sprang to her feet the moment she was free. She made to attack him, her hands curled into claws, but he stuck her hard. She stumbled back and felt her head knock into a wheelbarrow. The world melted to an inky black.
o0o0o0o0o
It could have been minutes or days later when she woke again. Time didn't seem to matter much while one was unconscious. She awoke to a low mechanical hum and a steady beeping. She was afraid of what she might see when she opened her eyes, but she did it anyway.
Instead of the dirty interior of the gardener's shed, Veronica found herself in a dimly lit hospital room. There was an awkward weight on both of her arms. When she mustered the energy to look down, she wasn't surprised to see her left arm bound in a cast. She was surprised, however, to see Logan on her right arm, holding her fingers loosely and resting his head on her forehead. His even breath tickled the sensitive skin on the inside of her elbow and she fidgeted.
Logan's eyes opened. When he saw that Veronica was awake, he shot up. "You're up! I should get a nurse!"
Veronica smiled wanly. "Stay," she croaked out.
Logan as torn, glancing between her and the doorway. Veronica won out and he sat back down on the uncomfortable plastic chair. He took her hand again and peered up at her. "You know how to scare a man, Mars."
"Water?" Veronica asked, her throat scratchy.
Logan leapt to his feet and poured her a glass of water. When she tried to sit up, he pressed her back down. "Let me," he said. He cradled her head and fed her the water. If she wouldn't have drowned, Veronica would have laughed at his serious expression.
Finally the Dixie cup was drained and Veronica refused his offer of more. "How long was I out?" she asked, her voice sounding stronger.
"A few hours. I called your dad. He should be here soon." Logan searched her face and added, lamely, "He had to rent a car."
Veronica smiled. "Thanks."
The looked at each other for a beat. Logan realized he was still grasping her fingers like he was the one drowning. He let go. Veronica reached for his hand and took it back. Logan smiled and sat back down.
"What happened, anyway?"
"Well, I got tired of listening to Mrs. Nestopolous go on about the horrible way the rich and famous are treated in this town. And, when she tried to kiss me, I had to make an escape." At Veronica's curious eyebrow, Logan laughed. "I know. It was just as scary as it sounded. I might have let her if it hadn't been for all of those heads watching." Veronica pulled a face at him and he smiled back at her. "And, so I went looking for you. Lucky for me, I chose to go outside instead of further into the house."
"Lucky for me," Veronica interjected. Logan all but beamed.
"Right. So, I caught sight of that guy leaving the shed and I ran down to ask him if he'd seen any blonde detectives running around the lawns and I saw you laying there in the shed. So, I decked the guy and grabbed you. I called the sheriff and explained what happened while I drove us to the hospital."
Veronica looked alarmed, "So, you don't know what happened to Arienne? He might have killed her or worse." She tried to sit herself up.
He pushed her back down, "Calm down. I looked through your phone and found that Natalie girl's number. I called her because I knew you'd freak out when you woke up."
"And?" Veronica pressed.
"Lamb came to save the day, of course."
Veronica snorted, "And he couldn't be bothered to help in the first place."
Logan raised an eyebrow, "That's what I thought. But, apparently, the sheriff's department was never notified. Varisco lied about meeting with Lamb and about going to the department."
Veronica was now completely confused. "But, why did he kidnap his own daughter in the first place?"
"This is where it gets Neptune-grade weird. Apparently, one Giacomo Varisco was a an opera singer back in Italy. When he came to the States, he couldn't make it. So, he became a gardener, married the maid, and they had a whole passel of kids. But, he couldn't let his dream go. He began voice lessons for the Nestopolous' son, Marcus when he was young. And, as we all know, Mark is now set to be a famous actor. He came home to give the family the good news that he'd gotten a part in an opera in New York. And, then the love at first sight thing happened with Arienne. He went back to New York to begin his show, but promised Arienne he'd be back for her."
"So, when daddy dearest found out, he locked her up? That doesn't make sense. Why wouldn't he be happy that his protégé had succeeded?"
"I guess he was too happy. He didn't want his daughter to spoil Mark's chances. And, apparently, she's a gifted singer as well. He didn't want them to fritter away their talent on one another."
Veronica cocked an eyebrow, "So, he'd rather lock her up and drug her that let her date someone. You should be glad my dad isn't that crazy."
"I guess I should ask how crazy I am, then," Keith asked from the doorway.
Veronica grinned as he moved to her bedside. "Crazy enough to put up with me on a regular basis?"
Keith nodded and rapped lightly on the cast, "That's right." He bent down to kiss her forehead. When he straightened, he nodded to the other man, "Logan. Good to see you."
"And you, Mr. Mars."
"Thanks, again, for saving my daughter's neck. I'm glad she has you to count on."
Logan ducked his head, abashed at the praise. "I need some coffee. Mr. Mars?"
"Thanks, Logan," he came back, turning his attention to his daughter.
"'I'm glad she has you to count on?'" Veronica repeated, questioningly. "Did you get that from your Big Book of Fatherly Quotes?"
"No. The Big Book recommends that I add a clap on the back and the word son to statements like those for them to qualify as fatherly. That was just my stock 'thank you' to Logan."
Veronica smiled up at her father.
"So, are you two... you two again?" Keith asked, cutting his eyes away from hers.
Veronica did her best approximation of a shrug considering the confines of a narrow hospital bed and a tangle of tubes and wires.
"All right, well, one of the nurses was giving me the eye when I came in. So, I might have to mack on her before I go home and get showered. Unless you want me to stay?"
"No. And first, never, ever say 'mack on' again. And, second, you should always shower pre-macking." Veronica tossed back.
Keith grinned down at her. "Hey, your little concussion-broken-arm combo cost me my weekend of debauchery."
"Ewww on all fronts. Now scoot."
Keith leaned down and kissed her once more before turning to leave. He met Logan in the doorway. As he took the Styrofoam cup of hospital sludge, he nodded back at the patient. "I hope you don't mind pulling a double shift with her tonight. I need to wash Las Vegas off of me. I'll be back first thing."
"No problem. I would have stayed anyway."
Keith just smiled and patted Logan's shoulder before he exited. "Thanks, son," he murmured under his breath once he was out of Logan's hearing.
"So are you planning on playing nurse all night? Because I'm starving," Veronica implored from the bed.
Logan quirked his lips into a grin. "What do you have in mind?"
Veronica lifted her eyebrows, "Anything but Italian."
Logan laughed and went back into the hall to see what could be done about his hungry girl.
Veronica dozed while she waited for Logan to return. She dreamed of a vibrant field of lilies and petunias and lazing happily among them, her head cradled in Logan's lap. It was snowing.
XxXxXxX
A/N: Okay,there's a lot more stuff I have to disclaim: The Wizard of Oz, Microsoft Power Point, i Pod, Purina, Rubbermaid, Once Upon a Mattress, Cosmopolitan (though I made up the article title :), Romeo and Juliet, The Sound of Music, Xanax, The Juilliard School, Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me, "Pee Wee's Playhouse," "Roseanne," and Dixie. Whew...
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