Chapter 7: Logan
Fuck.
Logan hated how relieved Veronica's parting revelation made him feel. It's not like it changed anything – did it? Except the burning in his heart stung a little less, now that he knew she hadn't jumped into Piz's waiting arms.
His eyes fell on the bulging folder of photos and newspaper clippings Veronica left behind, and he swore again. His head hurt, and suddenly he was reeling, but he didn't know if it was from learning about a possible half-brother who could've been killed by their father, or being around Veronica again. Logan marveled when he realized that she'd been back in his life for less than 12 hours and was already wreaking havoc. Hell, there was even a corpse.
It was textbook Veronica Mars.
The thought made his head throb painfully. Logan was hunting for aspirin, when he caught sight of the blinking red message light on the hotel phone. He picked up to hear Cliff's booming voice reminding him of their 9 a.m. appointment. "Don't be late, kid," the attorney said.
Logan dry swallowed two pills and checked the time. He was late, a fact Cliff was quick to point out the moment he stepped into his downtown office. "Sorry. I had an unexpected pest to deal with this morning," Logan said.
It didn't take long to sign all the necessary papers, selling off the last of his parents' properties. The realtor had gotten top dollar, and Cliff urged Logan to consider buying a place of his own.
"You could easily pay cash and it would be an investment, unlike the fortune you spend to stay in the Presidential Suite of the Neptune Grande. You're rich, Logan, but not that rich."
Cliff handed Logan a set of keys to the storage facility, where his mother's art collection, and the few belongings that survived the fire, were being kept. "By the way, there was a break-in at the storage place and it looks like the thief targeted your parents' locker," Cliff informed him. "Probably some crazed fans. Luckily, the night guard managed to chase away whoever it was. It doesn't look like he got anything, but you might want to go through that stuff soon."
"Thanks. I'll take care of it … and I'll think about maybe getting a condo or something," Logan promised. "But, uh, there's something else I kind of need your help with. Remember that pest I mentioned?"
When Logan finished explaining Veronica's theory about the Hearst skeleton and his father, Cliff stared at him eyebrows raised. "You two must make a very – fun – couple. Seriously, Logan, for a guy who's mostly innocent, you've become my most lucrative client."
Cliff picked up the phone and poured on the charm. "Inga, it's so nice to hear your lovely voice again. How are those puppies of yours?" A few minutes later, Cliff had arranged a meeting at the sheriff's office. "If Lamb buys this story, you'll have to go down to the forensics lab to give a DNA sample," he said. "You shouldn't meet with Lamb alone. I'll meet you here and we'll go in together."
"Gee, between you and Veronica I'll have my very own entourage," Logan said, dryly, as he stood to leave.
Cliff's office was only a few blocks from Mars Investigations, and on an impulse, Logan pulled into an empty parking space across the street. It was still early for Veronica to be working, he guessed when he saw no one was there. He bent to slip a note under the door, pleased that he'd managed to avoid his ex.
"Can I help you?"
Logan jumped at the sound of Keith Mars' voice, but he quickly recovered and straightened, thankful that it was the father and not the daughter who'd startled him. "Um, hi, Mr. Mars. I was just leaving a note for Veronica."
"Oh, Logan. I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you. Come in." Keith unlocked the door and held it open, motioning Logan inside. "Veronica mentioned you were back in town. It's been a while. How's your summer going so far?"
Logan hesitated, unsure how much Veronica had told her father. "I'm okay. I finally sold my parents' house and had to come back to sign the papers. I was just with Cliff, actually."
"Well, it's good to have you back. I think Veronica is happy you're home."
Logan shrugged. "Yeah, well, she's kind of got her teeth sunk into a new case."
"That's not what I meant, but I gather she's told you her theory?"
"She was banging on my door at the crack of dawn. That's actually why I'm here. Cliff set up a meeting with Lamb for tomorrow morning at 8:30."
Keith was studying Logan carefully, his eyes sympathetic. "Logan, it's probably just some strange coincidence," he began. "But even if it isn't, whatever Aaron did has nothing to do with you. You're not your father."
Logan couldn't bring himself to look up as he stared at the floor, head bent. After several long moments, he nodded slightly to acknowledge the older man's words, even if he couldn't quite bring himself to believe them.
The door suddenly clattered open and a feminine voice belted out a greeting, making Logan wish he'd gotten away when he had the chance.
"Hey, Dad. Sorry I'm late. I had something I had to take care of …" Veronica called out, stopping short when she saw Logan.
Before she could say anything more, he quickly told her about his appointment with Lamb even as he started walking towards the door. "I'm meeting Cliff at his office so you don't …"
"I'll pick you up at eight," she said firmly.
"I don't need an escort, Veronica," Logan groused. But one glance at her crossed arms and pursed lips, a posture he knew all too well, told him arguing would be futile. He rolled his eyes, feeling like a chump for giving in, until, he decided he'd just leave the suite before she showed up. He pulled open the door, then hesitated, turning back to Keith. "Uh, Mr. Mars? … Thanks."
Logan ignored the puzzled look Veronica shot first her father, then him, as Keith smiled reassuringly.
"You're welcome, Logan."
The next day, in typical Veronica fashion, she showed up at the Grande forty-five freaking minutes early. He caught her trying to hide a small smirk and he could practically see "gotcha" flashing in her intelligent blue eyes. Clearly, I needed to wake up really early to beat this worm, Logan thought.
He evaded the smug look she gave him, silently brushing past her to exit the suite. The simmering tension between them was starting to feel very dangerous, especially when he could still feel the heat crackling just below the surface. Engaging in silent contests of will and verbally sparring with Veronica Mars could only end badly for him. Not only would he lose nine out of ten matches, he'd wind up right where he was two months ago – hopelessly in love with a girl who would never love him back.
For once, Logan was going to heed the warning bells sounding off in his head. The less interaction with Veronica, the better, he thought, saying little during the brief car ride and barely acknowledging her once they got to Lamb's office.
"Like father, like son," Lamb jeered as Logan and the others sat around a table in the interrogation room. "I knew I'd be locking you up again. So what crime are you here to confess?"
"Is that how you solve cases? Wait for suspects to walk in and confess on their own? Great strategy there, Sheriff," Logan retorted, earning a chuckle from Veronica.
"Excuse me, Sheriff Lamb. Mr. Echolls is here on his own volition to offer potential information regarding the skeleton found at Hearst College," Cliff said. "He's simply a good citizen trying to do his civic duty."
Logan had to hand it to Cliff. His attorney made him sound like a freaking boy scout. He grinned and arched his eyebrows, taunting Lamb.
The sheriff tipped back his chair, and considered the trio before him. "Okay. We'll play it your way. Tell me, Mr. Echolls. What information do you have that will break my case wide open?"
"Not me, her," Logan said, jerking his thumb towards Veronica. "I'm just here to give blood."
He sat back, giving Veronica center stage to tell her story. When she was done, Lamb threw his pen on the table letting his chair crash back down to the floor. "Is that it? You want me to launch an investigation into a 17-year-old case based on this so-called resemblance? You've gotta give me something else to go on, folks, because as far as I can tell, Aaron Echolls was living in L.A. at the time and didn't have a single tie to Hearst."
"Uh, that's not entirely accurate," Logan said, slowly sitting up, remembering the photo he'd found at the lake house. "Aaron never said anything about going to Hearst, or any college for that matter. But I found a photo of him that I'd swear was taken in front of the Hearst library."
"And you're just now saying something?" Veronica asked.
"I didn't remember until now."
"Wow, guys," Lamb interrupted, standing to leave. "It's a smoking photograph – or not. Thanks for wasting my time."
"'Cause you're so busy chasing down all those other tips that are just pouring in," Veronica said. "Well, how many others are there? Five, ten? Zero?"
Lamb glared at Veronica. "Fine. Get me a copy of the photo and I'll look into it. Meanwhile, I guess it wouldn't hurt to get a DNA sample from you," he said, nodding at Logan.
Veronica eyed Lamb, smiling slyly and lowering her voice to a confidential whisper. "By the way, I heard the coroner found a bullet hole in the skull. I don't suppose there was a bullet to match?"
Lamb scoffed. "And you think you're so clever, Ms. Mars. You might want to double check your sources. The boy wasn't shot, he was …" Lamb stopped mid-sentence, his face chagrined.
"Nice try, Veronica. Folks, I'd say it's been a pleasure, but I'd be lying. Inga will tell you how to get to the lab. It'll take a few days for the results to come in. I'll let you know when I hear something."
Twenty minutes later, Logan was fidgeting in a vinyl padded chair that was uncomfortably small for his lanky frame. He slouched low in the seat, one elbow resting on the chair's arm, his cheek propped against his closed fist. Next to him, Veronica's head was bent over her laptop as her fingers flew over the keys.
Linda, the receptionist behind the window at the forensics lab, had warned them it would be a long wait since they didn't have an appointment, and Logan was already losing patience. Somewhere in the building, the small, frail bones of a boy who could be his brother, were lying in some cold, sterile storage drawer. It made his stomach churn.
Logan never would've noticed the receptionist abandoning her station if it weren't for Veronica, who suddenly sprang up from her seat. He watched in bemused irritation as she slipped into the vacated office. Moments later, he heard metal drawers opening and, wearily went to retrieve his ex-girlfriend before she got them both arrested.
"Why the hell hasn't someone locked you up and thrown away the key?" Logan hissed in a low whisper.
"Because I'm too good at what I do," she answered, rifling through files. "And I'd be even better at it if you'd get with the program here, Logan. You're supposed to be my lookout. I need you outside, keeping watch."
"Sorry. I didn't see the memo. Must be that darn invisible ink. Are you looking for something specific, or just snooping around for fun because Mac and Wallace got tired of IM-ing you?"
"Were you not paying attention earlier? Lamb let it slip that the coroner finished the autopsy and came up with a cause of death. I need to get my hands on that report. Now would you get out of here?"
"Fine. I'll practice my bird-calls. If you hear a Canadian honker, you'd better skedaddle. But you're in the clear if it's just a snow goose. Got it? Should we synchronize our watches, come up with code names?"
Shaking his head, Logan retraced his steps back into the lobby, sinking into a chair seconds before a head of auburn curls appeared from around the corner. He coughed loudly and jumped up, putting himself between the attractive, young receptionist and her office door.
"Uh, excuse me. It's Linda, right? I was hoping you could help me," he blurted, raising his voice so Veronica could hear. "You know that short, skinny girl I was with? She went looking for a bathroom a while back and I'm afraid she's gotten lost. She's a little slow upstairs, if you know what I mean. One of those dumb blonde types."
Linda flashed him a smile and clucked her tongue. "Now, that's not a very nice thing to say about your girlfriend."
"Oh, she's not my girlfriend. Believe me. She's – my personal assistant. But she's been stalking me, so I'm gonna have to fire her. In the meantime, would you mind hunting her down for me? I think she stole my Blackberry."
"Sure, it's no problem. But you should be careful around her. People like that can be dangerous."
"You have no idea."
After Linda disappeared back down the hallway, Veronica poked her head out of the counter window glaring at Logan. He smirked. Score one for me, he thought, completely forgetting his resolve to avoid their squabbling tête-à-têtes. She left the office, stuffing a stack of papers into her bag. By the time Linda returned, Veronica was sitting quietly in the chair next to Logan, legs crossed and hands folded in her lap.
"Oh good, you found her," Linda said. "The nurse is ready for you in Room 3, Mr. Echolls."
"It's Logan, and thanks for all your help."
"You're more than welcome," Linda smiled brightly, glancing a little warily at Veronica.
It took the medical examiner less than five minutes to get a sample of Logan's blood, and although he wasn't normally squeamish, he felt queasy afterwards. As they left the building, Linda handed him a business card. "Call if you have any questions," she told a slightly dazed Logan.
When they were outside, Veronica snatched the card from him, flipping it over to read the back. "Your new friend gave you her home phone number. Oh look, there's even a heart. How precious."
Veronica's reaction - could it possibly be jealousy - brought a grin to Logan's face. "What can I say? I'm hard to resist. But you wouldn't know, would you? That was never a problem for you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Can we get going, Jeeves?"
As Veronica drove along the Pacific Coast Highway, Logan stared at the passing ocean, absently playing with the cotton swab taped to the crook of his elbow. For the hundredth time since he watched his blood flowing into a test tube, he wondered what kind of fucked-up genetics ran in his veins. And when would they finally kick in?
"Stop." Veronica commanded softly. "I know how your brooding mind works, Logan. You're nothing like him and you never will be."
Pushing aside thoughts of burning pools and bloodied faces, Logan dodged the subject. "So other than a skeleton under the classroom, what else did I miss while I was gone? This is Neptune, after all."
"Well, let's see," Veronica considered. "Mac seems to have found true love. She patched things up with Brian earlier in the summer and they've been making googly-eyes at each other ever since. It's pretty revolting to watch, but … she's happy. And I hear you had something to do with that?"
"Me? I didn't do anything." But Logan was pleased, despite his protest. A small smile curved his lips at the thought of the computer wizard walking off into the sunset with her gangly, basketball star boyfriend.
"Right. You couldn't have done anything, because you weren't even here at the time." Veronica said, playing along with him.
"Is that all you've got, Mars? A fluffy love story about a techie and a jock? If that's the best gossip you're offering, then I'd say you're slipping."
She huffed. "Okay, how's this for you? Right after you left, the president of Hearst was caught doing the hokey pokey with his barely legal student aid during 'office hours.' Turns out he'd been sleeping with coeds for years. The board of trustees threw a fit and demanded his resignation."
"Puritans," Logan remarked.
Veronica chuckled. "Remember that assistant dean who helped you get into school? Rumor has it the board is on the verge of naming her as his replacement. If she gets it, she'll be the first woman president of Hearst College."
"First Nancy Pelosi becomes Speaker of the House, now Morgan Kennedy takes over Hearst. What is this world coming to?"
"Move over bacon, it's time for something leaner."
"… and meaner?" Logan quipped.
"I am woman, hear me roar. Grrr…"
They laughed, and just like that, Logan felt himself slipping into their old, familiar pattern: first the banter, then laughter followed by an easy, comfortable silence, which usually ended in the bedroom with their bodies feverishly entwined. Logan's mind drifted over memories of Veronica's soft skin, the way she shivered under his touch and the hazy cerulean of her eyes when she came apart beneath him.
Logan groaned silently and shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling cramped. He turned to stare out the window again, wishing the ride would just end already. She was driving him crazy. Veronica's subtle scent of lavender-spiced vanilla tickled his nose, reminding him of the last time he'd kissed her.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Veronica said.
"Vanilla," Logan answered hastily – it was the first thing that popped into his head.
"What?"
"It's a spice, Veronica. Comes from a bean. Some cultures believe it's an aphrodisiac, but here in the states, we put it in baked goods like cookies and cakes."
"Is that what you were doing in Tahoe, Logan? Learning to bake?"
He blinked, momentarily confused. But as realization sunk in, a lack of sleep combined with the frustration and near constant heartache of the past few days finally boiled over. "God damn it, Veronica! You spied on me?"
"I didn't spy on you. I just tracked the charges on your credit card."
"That's got to be illegal, and besides, you invaded my privacy. It's none of your fucking business where the hell I go, what I do, or who I do it with. We. Broke. Up. Remember? It's what you wanted."
"Logan, I never said I wanted to break up."
He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Please. I'm not stupid, Veronica. I can follow the clues, too, you know."
Veronica's Saturn turned into the hotel driveway and slowed as she started to park. "Logan …"
"Thanks for the ride." He got out of the car, slammed the door shut and walked away.
