Chapter 2: Veronica
With a gentle push, Veronica eased open the front door and slipped into the apartment, a slight smile lingering on her lips. She closed the door and rested her forehead against the cool glass, letting out a long, shaky breath.
She could still hear Logan's voice, soft and unusually shy, his earnest words inciting an unwanted quickening in her heart.
Logan loved her.
The knowledge warmed her from the inside out, and she'd been on the verge of repeating the sentiment. But, as always, something held her back. Veronica couldn't remember the last time she'd said those words to anyone besides her father. It had probably been Duncan - the first time around, when Lilly was still alive.
What's wrong with you, Veronica? Sighing, she tip-toed across the living room, listening for signs her dad was awake, but pretending not to wait up for her. Satisfied he wasn't, she quietly shut her bedroom door and stripped off her sweater and jeans. She was nestled under the covers moments later.
But sleep eluded Veronica. She lay staring up at the ceiling, her troubled mind drifting through the night's events before settling again on Logan and his quiet declaration. A familiar panic began to creep over her, tempering whatever tiny flutters of joy she'd allowed herself to feel.
It had happened in New York, too. Some time between getting dropped off at the airport and landing at JFK, Veronica had begun to doubt the wisdom of rushing headlong into a relationship with Logan. He was all impulse and heat – traits that steered him straight into drunken fist fights and torrid affairs with married trophy wives. The image of sultry Kendall Casablancas wrapped around Logan kept popping into Veronica's head.
By the time her plane touched down in San Diego a week later, Veronica was convinced she and Logan were a disaster waiting to happen. So she had avoided him for the next two days, ignoring the message he'd left on her first night back. Logan hadn't called again and she'd pretended not to be disappointed.
But on the third day, she'd gone to the supermarket and there, at the check-out stand, was Logan staring up at her from a grainy photo on the cover of a trashy tabloid. His face was an expressionless mask and he was standing alone by a freshly dug grave. "Aaron Echolls buried today by estranged son in private service," the headline had screamed.
It had nearly broken her heart.
Veronica had remembered how Logan enveloped her safely in his arms the night she thought her father had been blown to smithereens, scattered across the night sky. Choking on sobs, she'd buried her face in his t-shirt, crying uncontrollably. "What's going to happen to me, now?" she'd asked.
Logan had drawn her closer to him, and, in a tone both gentle and resolute, said, "Veronica, I know everything is really fucked up right now, but I promise you'll be alright. I swear, no matter what, I'll make sure you're okay."
It was the worst night of Veronica's life, but somehow she'd believed him.
On her third night back from New York, Veronica had knocked on Logan's door. Her heart had twisted at the genuine surprise in his reddened eyes, and she'd tried to ignore the wary way Logan glanced at her, unsure of why she was there.
Later, when they'd settled onto the couch to watch "South Park" she curled herself into the crook of his arms, resting her head on his broad, comforting shoulder until she'd felt his body relax. In the morning, she'd woken up nestled in his arms.
Veronica eventually fell into a fitful sleep, in which she dreamed about a night she could only remember in her subconscious.
She dreamed of walking down a dark hallway, crowded with the gyrating bodies of people she didn't know, opening door after door until finally reaching the last room. Inside, Duncan and Cassidy looked at her expectantly as though they'd been waiting for her. Veronica turned in terror, running from the house into the cold night.
I need to find Logan, she thought as she passed through the familiar gates of the Echolls estate. But he didn't answer when she called his name and Veronica found herself wandering through another shadowy house. She approached his bedroom door and twisted the knob.
Logan lay naked on his bed with Kendall Casablancas writhing beneath him, their bodies crashing together in an erotic tangle of limbs.
He twisted and looked at her, smirking. "Are you going to answer that?" he asked, as a phone began to ring somewhere off in the distance.
The shrill ringing of her cell phone wrenched Veronica from the dream. She struggled to sit up, her heart pounding violently as she tried to shake the remnants of her nightmarish dreams. Veronica groped for her phone and checked the caller ID. She didn't recognize the number.
"Um, is this Veronica?" The voice on the other end of the line was young, masculine and unfamiliar.
"Guilty as charged," Veronica said, stifling a yawn. "And you are?"
"Hi, my name is Jason. Jason Halsey. You don't know me, but I guess you met my roommate, Brian, last night? He said you might be able to help me find my birth mother. I know it's early, but I was hoping we could get together and talk."
Veronica agreed to meet Jason at his dorm after laying out her fees and terms. An hour later, she was perched on the only clear surface in the tiny room – a corner of a twin bed – sipping a soda. Veronica took in the cluttered surroundings. It was a typical college boy's room. Clothes were strewn about on the furniture while empty pizza boxes and beer bottles littered the floor.
"My dad would have a conniption if he saw this place," Jason said, apologizing for the mess. "He's a career Navy man and our house was always ship shape, hospital bed corners and all. As soon as I went away to school, I became the world's biggest slob."
Veronica laughed, setting the soda can on Jason's desk where an Apple notebook stood next to one of the few personal effects in the room – a single framed photo. A woman in her 50s with wild red curls, round face and kind smile stood next to a cherry blossom tree in full bloom. She was flanked by two lean, fair-haired men, who looked remarkably alike despite what must have been a 30-year age difference.
"These are your adopted parents?" Veronica asked her voice tinged with surprise. "You look a lot like your dad."
"Yeah, I know," Jason said. "It's an old family joke. My parents probably could've passed me off as their biological son, but I've known I was adopted ever since I can remember."
Jason's parents had married young, when his father was still a lowly Navy seaman and they'd spent the first decade of their marriage trying unsuccessfully to conceive a child of their own. Then, as a chief petty officer, Charles Halsey was stationed at the Coronado Naval Base near San Diego, where a family friend, an attorney who specialized in adoptions, found a baby boy for the childless couple.
It was a closed adoption. What little Jason knew about his past came from his birth certificate and the sparse facts his parents' attorney was willing to divulge. Jason was born at Neptune Memorial Hospital on September 12, 1988 to an unwed college student who hadn't wanted any further contact with her newborn son or the couple who adopted him. Within a year, the Halseys had moved yet again, this time overseas.
"Well, I can start with your birth certificate and go from there," Veronica said. "Do you know the name of the attorney your parents used to adopt you?"
Jason promised to get Veronica copies of his birth certificate and adoption papers as he jotted down the attorney's name. He thanked her as she started to leave.
"I could've gone to UCLA, or even Cal, you know? But I chose Hearst because it's in Neptune and my birth mother might've even been a student here," Jason said. "My parents don't know I've been looking for her. I don't want to hurt their feelings, but I just want to know where I come from."
Veronica left Jason's room and crossed the campus quad in search of Mac. It took several loud knocks before the computer whiz answered the door. "Late night?" Veronica asked, trying to suppress a grin.
Mac smiled sheepishly, a faint pink tingeing her cheeks. She offered Veronica a bottle of water before sinking cross-legged onto a futon couch. "We were at The Hut until it closed and afterwards we sat outside the dorms and talked for hours," Mac said, pausing as she chewed her lip. "I think … I actually like this guy. I mean, he's smart, funny. He may be a jock, but he actually knows a lot about computers … Not more than me, but no one's perfect, right?"
Veronica chuckled and punched the other girl playfully on the arm. "You go girl," she said. "Speaking of computer skills – what do you know about hospital record keeping? Would birth records from say, 19 years ago, be on some kind of database you could hack into?"
Mac considered for a moment. "Most physicians and hospitals have all their current records online to streamline everything they do. For example, doctors can access patients' test results or x-rays in mere seconds with just a click of a mouse, instead of waiting for someone to send over the paperwork," she explained. "But I doubt those records go back more than a few years. Why?"
"Brian's roommate called me bright and early this morning and it's not going to be easy to track down his bio mom," Veronica said. "The good news is he was born right here at Neptune Memorial. I was hoping you could work your magic on their system, but now it looks like I'm going to have to come up with a plan B."
The room phone began to ring and Veronica waved a quick goodbye as Mac answered it. The rest of Veronica's weekend passed in a blur. She picked up an extra shift at the library and wound up spending ten mind-numbing hours re-shelving Hearst's entire Russian literature section. In between, she squeezed in a quick b&e at the offices of Stuart M. Giles Esquire to sneak a peek at Jason's adoption file, then spent a few hours studying with Piz. Afterwards, she tumbled exhausted into bed forgetting she'd promised to call Logan.
That night Veronica dreamed about the rape again. When she woke trembling with fright, she couldn't shake the fuzzy images of Duncan, Cassidy and … Logan … looming threateningly over her. She hugged her arms to her chest and took several deep breaths to slow the thudding in her chest.
Logan's regular appearance was a disturbing new twist to her nightmares. They'd started again in the fall, when she was deep into the serial rapist investigation. Only now, seven months later, they seemed to be growing in frequency and intensity. Veronica realized with a start that Logan's part in her nighttime terrors began when the dreams had resumed – on Halloween.
Veronica had been running late that morning and to make matters worse, she'd left some notes she needed at Logan's hotel suite. She'd dug in her bag while hurrying out of the elevator and down the hall, grunting in triumph when her fingers finally grasped the smooth plastic of the key card he'd given her weeks before.
She'd called his name before remembering that he had a 9 a.m. English comp class. She had taken it as a good sign that Logan wasn't there and quickly located her notes scattered alongside the bed, where they'd been abandoned in favor of less academic pursuits.
Just the memory of Logan's tender touch had made Veronica's body thrum.
The night before, she'd gone in search of a study snack and found, to her delight, a pint of Phish Food in the mini-bar fridge. Absently, she'd considered the irony; when she'd dated Duncan, he'd stocked the suite with ice cream for her, too. But as she plunged a spoon into the frozen treat, little details had clicked into place and realization had slowly seeped into her consciousness.
She'd given Duncan too much credit – and Logan not enough. It was Logan who'd quietly left pints of her favorite ice cream in the suite, even while they'd been at each other's throats, taking verbal swipes at each other every chance they could.
That night for the first time, as Logan stroked her skin and trailed heated kisses up and down her body, Veronica had dared to think that she could be falling in love with him.
She'd left the Neptune Grande with her notes and was still smiling hours later, when her wake up call came in the form of a stocky, former bike gang leader. She'd bumped into Weevil coming out of her sociology exam and he hadn't minced words when he learned she was dating Logan again.
"What makes you think you'll be any different than Lilly?" Weevil had asked. "You're the detective. You should know, once a cheater, always a cheater. Haven't you ever wondered why she kept dumping his ass?" Weevil had walked away after that parting shot, leaving Veronica standing in the campus quad, a terrible dread settling in her heart.
Later, while sipping beer at a Halloween party in the dorms, Mac had broken the news that the campus rapist had struck again. The nightmares had come back that night, and with the ensuing uproar over the latest rape, Veronica had completely forgotten about her run-in with Weevil.
Veronica was sitting on a bench in the quad, reading Professor Landry's book and enjoying the warm spring sun, when a shadow darkened the pages. She looked up to see Logan, towering above her and suppressed a chill as the image from her latest nightmare came to mind unbidden.
"Hey, gorgeous," Logan said, plopping down next to her and planting a quick kiss on her cheek.
She turned and smiled at him, feeling absurdly pleased by his casual endearment. She snapped her book shut and replied, "Hey, yourself. Sorry I didn't call the other night. I was pretty beat so I crashed early."
Veronica met Logan's worried gaze, silently wishing she hadn't mentioned her exhaustion. He reached over and gently stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "More bad dreams?" he asked.
She nodded and glanced away. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?" Logan was silent, but Veronica knew he would try to prod her into saying more so she quickly cut him off. "About Saturday, I was thinking we could get to the museum early. Then we'd have the rest of the day to hang out in L.A. What do you think?"
The concerned look on Logan's face turned to confusion then guilt. "Oh shit, Veronica. I totally forgot. The thing is, I sorta promised Dick and Mercer I'd go with them to Mexico this weekend and we're supposed to leave Friday. Can we do the museum thing some other time?"
Veronica rolled her eyes, but said nothing, the irritation showing plainly on her face. "Don't you have classes on Friday?" she said. Logan shrugged making Veronica's temper flare.
"By all means, forget useless courses like econ and psych. Clearly, you're bound and determined to major in millionaire playboy with a minor in gambling. Seriously, Logan, you might as well throw your money away." Veronica stood and stalked off before Logan had a chance to respond.
Veronica had cleared her schedule to spend the weekend with Logan, so when Sunday rolled around she found herself with no papers to write or exams to cram for, and plenty of free time. Might as well try to make some headway on that adoption case, and I can't do that without my trusty sidekick, she thought, heading to the dorms.
Wallace, however, was nowhere to be found. Instead, Piz appeared to be rocking out in front of the television, a fake guitar grasped in his hands as he bobbed his head violently. "Indulging in those rock star fantasies again, Piz?" Veronica greeted Wallace's roommate.
"Oh my god, I'm having a total blast. Have you ever played this thing? You should definitely check it out. It's like being a rock star without having to possess any talent whatsoever. Totally cool," Piz gushed.
Veronica looked at him skeptically. "Let me get this straight. You're in a band that plays on actual guitars in front of a real live audience, right? So why play a computer game that only simulates something you are actually capable of doing?"
"Did you not hear me say it's a total blast?"
"I will never understand boys and their video games," Veronica said. "Do you know where Wallace is? I'm working on something and need his help."
"He had a study date with a cute sister he met last weekend. What do you need? Are you working on a case? I can help. Use me. I insist."
Veronica considered for a few moments, before saying, "Well, I do need someone to create a distraction, and you're definitely - distracting."
A half hour later, Veronica pulled into the Neptune Memorial parking lot, choosing a space close to the rear exit. The appallingly thin adoption file she'd procured from the attorney had produced a single name – Jennifer Grant. So far, Veronica had found 89 Jennifer Grants in Neptune alone.
But something had been a little off about the file she'd found in the attorney's office. All the other cases in the file cabinets, even the closed adoptions, had been much thicker, stuffed with medical records for both mother and child, receipts for doctor visits, and hospital stays as well as insurance information and copies of cashed checks. The only document in Jason's file was a 10-page adoption agreement with his birth mother's name and age.
Veronica knew she needed to get a look at those hospital records. Lucky for her, Mac knew a nursing student who volunteered regularly at Neptune Memorial. Getting information out of her had been a snap. Now, Veronica just had to sneak past the security guard and she'd be golden. That's where Piz came in.
"So you know what you're supposed to do, right?" Veronica quizzed as they slipped into the hospital and made their way to the basement.
"Yeah, sure. Piece of cake. This is gonna be – "
"I know, a total blast," Veronica finished for him, shaking her head and smiling. She slipped into a nearby restroom and cracked open the door, as Piz made his way to the security office guarding the entrance to the records room.
Veronica gave Piz a few minutes to launch his cover story and draw the security guard away from his post, then eased out of her hiding place and headed towards the locked door at the end of the hall. She keyed in the security code she got from Mac and quietly shut the door behind her, quickly locating the ancient computer in a corner of the basement. "Piece of cake is right," Veronica said under her breath, typing Jennifer Grant's name into the electronic catalog.
Moments later, she was frowning as she examined the results of her search. There were plenty of Jennifer Grants who'd been patients at the hospital, but none of them had given birth to a baby boy on September 12, 1988. Veronica tried another search and found that three babies had been born at Neptune Memorial that day – a girl weighing 6 pounds 2 ounces, a boy named Vincent Chang and an unnamed, Caucasian male.
Bingo, Veronica thought, as she located the paper records in a nearby file cabinet and quickly scanned the pages. She soon realized why she hadn't been able to find anything under Jennifer Grant. Jason's hospital record listed a completely different woman as his birth mother – a 19-year-old named Maya Nyland.
Veronica went back to the computer and after finding Maya Nyland's records, made copies of both files. She pressed her ear to the door, listening for Piz or the security guard. Hearing nothing, she retreated hastily and made her way back to the parking lot where Piz was already waiting by her car.
"That was freaking awesome" Piz said, later, his mouth full of pizza. They'd stopped at the campus food court, where they'd been huddling at a table for a couple of hours, talking, laughing and swapping Wallace stories. Veronica found herself enjoying the easy camaraderie with Wallace's affable roommate. Piz was sweet and laid back and so uncomplicated.
"So did this little covert spy game of yours do the trick? Have you solved the case?" Piz asked, interrupting her thoughts.
"I'm not sure," she said as she reached for one of the files. High pitched giggles from a table next to theirs caused Veronica to look up. Two girls wearing work-out clothes were slurping smoothies and squealing about some party they'd gone to Friday night. Veronica rolled her eyes and started to turn back to the file when she heard a familiar name.
"Did you see Christina hanging all over Logan Echolls?" one of the girls asked.
"Noooo! Oh my god! He is such a hottie. I had, like, the biggest crush on his dad when I was in junior high and Logan is way cuter than Aaron," the other girl said. "So did she hook up with him?"
"Well, I don't know for sure, but he did leave the party early, right around the time I lost track of Christina …" her voice trailed off and the pair burst into another fit of giggles.
Veronica stood abruptly, ignoring the startled look on Piz's face as she rapidly gathered the files and stuffed them into her bag. "I've gotta go," she said. "Thanks for your help."
For the next few weeks, Veronica threw herself into her studies and the case, leaving little time to spend with Logan, which suited her just fine. Her first impulse had been to track down her wayward boyfriend in Mexico and confront him, until she realized how thin the evidence was. And hadn't he just told her he loved her? Still, Veronica refused to believe love was blind. She'd sworn long ago that she would never be one of those clueless women who blissfully ignored all the signs of infidelity.
Meanwhile, she had an actual case to solve. On a hunch, she did some digging and managed to wrap up all the details just days before final exams started. She called Jason and told him she had news, arranging to meet him at his dorm.
"Your birth mother's name is Maya Nyland Whitcomb," Veronica said. "She's an artist, a pretty successful one at that with a gallery right here in downtown Neptune. She's happily married to a history professor at San Diego State and they have two young children – a boy and a girl."
Jason gaped at her. "Oh my god. This is great. I can't believe you came up with all this stuff."
"There's more," Veronica said, softly. "Did you know you and your adopted father have the same, extremely rare blood type? Then there's the startling resemblance."
Jason stared at Veronica, puzzled, so she pushed ahead. "You were right. When Maya Nyland got pregnant, she was a student at Hearst. To make ends meet, she worked in the student activities office. The same office where Navy recruiters from Coronado had a cubicle. Did you know your dad was a recruiter?"
Jason shook his head slowly. "What are you saying?" he asked.
"I'm saying, I think Charles Halsey, the man who adopted you, is actually your biological father," she said. "He had an affair with Maya Nyland and when she got pregnant, he offered to adopt the baby. His family friend, the attorney, helped him hide your mother's true identity in order to cover up the affair."
Jason stood and paced the small room, stopping suddenly when his gaze fell on the framed photo of his family. He picked it up, staring at it for several, long moments. "I should've known," he finally said. "I can't believe I didn't see it."
Veronica gave him a sympathetic look and placed a file on his desk before slipping out of the room. With a sigh, she made her way to the food court hoping to get a bite before her next class. She was surveying the crowded dining area when she spotted Logan. A girl with long, perfectly curled brown hair sat across from him, picking daintily at a salad as she chatted excitedly.
Taking a deep breath, Veronica walked over. Her hardened gaze faltered slightly as Logan looked up, his face breaking into a wide grin when he saw her. "Hi, babe," he said, standing to kiss her. "Christina, this is my girlfriend, Veronica. Veronica, meet Christina. We were just trading notes for our psych final."
Veronica smiled half-heartedly, nodding at the curvy brunette. The next half hour consisted of stilted conversation punctuated by awkward silences. Veronica forced herself to eat the turkey sandwich she'd bought even while her stomach burned. She checked her watch and said, "I have to run to class. It was nice meeting you, Christina."
Later that night, Veronica was alone in her apartment when she heard a knock at the door. She immediately recognized Logan's tall silhouette through the bamboo shades and let him in.
"Is your dad home?" he asked. When she shook her head, Logan reached up to cup her face in his hands and kissed her hungrily. "Where have you been? I've missed you," he whispered, his lips leaving hers to press light kisses along her neck.
"Really? I'm surprised. From the look of things, you've managed to find all sorts of new friends who seem more than willing to keep you company."
Logan sighed wearily. "Veronica, Christina is just a friend. I'm not the least bit interested in her. You know you're the only one I want to be with." When she didn't respond, he gently brushed stray hairs from her face and asked, "What's been going on with you lately, Veronica? For weeks you've either been picking fights, or avoiding me. Does this have anything to do with those nightmares you've been having?"
"I – I don't know," she said, startled.
Logan stepped back and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Maybe … you should think about talking to someone about them, someone professional, like a counselor or something."
Veronica huffed and rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to spend good money to see a shrink, just so you can get laid, Logan." Instantly, she regretted her harsh words and she looked up to meet his gaze.
Hurt and anger sparked in his eyes. "That's not what I meant and you know it," he said in a cold, low voice as he left the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
The silent stalemate lasted for days, neither one willing to make amends. In the end, Logan was the first to reach out. But with Christina's buxom figure still fresh in her mind, Veronica ignored the message he left on her cell phone.
The night she and Piz took their European Art final, they ended up at a party in the dorms. It was her last exam and she felt a little celebration was in order to commemorate surviving her first year of college. Veronica realized she was probably celebrating a little too much when couldn't stop giggling at something Piz said.
He was standing close, his face just inches away and before she knew what was happening, he bent his head and pressed his lips against hers. At first, the kiss was sweet and pleasant, and Veronica reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.
Almost immediately, she knew she'd made a horrible mistake, but the alcohol slowed her reflexes. She'd barely begun to pull back when someone wrenched Piz away, a sharp crack sounding as a fist connected violently with Piz's face.
"I guess we broke up," Logan said, before storming out into the night.
