A/N –The characters you know and love aren't mine – but you knew that.
Chapter 10
The alarm clock started beeping.
Logan groaned, but rolled out of bed. Veronica whimpered. "I am sorry Bobcat, but I have to go to work." He leaned in for a quick kiss.
Veronica started laughing as he stood back up, "Words I never thought I would hear Logan Echolls say, 'I have to go to work.'" He rolled his eyes at her and turned to walk to the bathroom, sparing one last glace at her naked form spread languidly across the bed. He groaned again. Veronica smirked, "I hate to see you go flyboy, but I love to see you leave."
She heard Logan mutter something about a cold shower, before he closed the bathroom door. Veronica stretched again, feeling better with the past couple days just from having seen Logan. She rolled out of bed, pulling on a t-shirt he had discarded on the floor and a pair of gym shorts.
When Logan got out of the shower, he found Veronica in the kitchen wrapping sandwiches in wax paper. She smiled at him, "I didn't know if you had time to eat or if you had to run. So brown bag?"
He nodded gratefully, "Thank you. I really should hit the road. Step is crazy punctual, and 15 minutes early is late by his standards." Veronica followed him to the door. He pulled her in for a quick kiss that built in intensity, until he had to physically back away. "Try not to worry today, have some fun maybe?" When she nodded, he risked another fast kiss. "Ok, I will see you in the morning." With that Logan was gone, and Veronica closed and locked the door behind him.
She looked around her condo: Chet was sleeping on the sofa; Logan's duffle was on the floor by the bedroom door; the table cloth from their first meal had a small soup stain on it. Veronica sighed to herself, "Laundry it is." She flipped on the national news channel while she worked. The field reporter was interviewing the family of Sophia Ceres, she had gone missing on spring break in Myrtle Beach. Veronica paid no attention as she separated her whites and colors.
Veronica then took to cleaning. She knew that Logan and M.B. had gone through her condo, but that didn't shake the unclean feeling she had from Sandeep's invasion of her privacy. She started small, vacuuming and scrubbing the tiles. Before she knew it, several hours had passed and she had multiple bags to take to Good Will. Every knick-knack, item of clothing or item that Sandeep had bought her or left over the years was ruthlessly removed from its spot.
She hauled the bags to her garage and put them in the trunk of her second car. Veronica smirked to herself. Logan obviously hasn't been out to the garage yet, or he would have made some crack. There was a note on the windshield from M.B. though: Veronica, swept the car, found and removed a tracker and a bug. She's clean now, cherry ride. Her smirk widened. Cherry indeed!
Going back into the condo, Veronica verified the front door was locked, grabbed Chet's leash and gave a sharp whistle. Chet followed her to the garage and jumped into the passenger seat. Veronica hit the garage door opener and turned over the ignition on her 1956 Corvette hard top convertible. The vintage roadster roared to life, and she backed it out.
It was artic blue with white bodyside coves, white wall tires, and blue leather interior. Veronica loved it, to the point of having gotten custom plates GMSH0E. Her father laughingly referred to it has her Nancy Drewmobile. When Veronica had finally made her peace with Lianne's death, she had bought the vintage car, the extravagant purchase made possible with the proceeds from her mother's life insurance policy. Driving it and listening to classic rock'n'roll she felt closer to the mother of her youth, still happy and carefree, before she had descended into infidelity and alcoholism, it always lifted Veronica's mood. After a quick drop off of the Sandeep tainted housewares, Veronica headed to the dog park for the afternoon – much to Chet's delight.
~~~In Phoenix, AZ~~~
"As a rookie, he was one of the best, but he got sent into deep cover too soon; was left there too long. He is more thug than agent, I don't know why you want him." The Phoenix Section Chief handed a paper file to Clarence Wiedman. CW slipped it into his brief case without looking at it. The Section Chief continued, "To be honest, with his attitude problems, we had been thinking about terminating him for a while."
CW smiled coldly. "Well then, I think my proposal will benefit us all. Is he in the office today?"
The man looked at his computer, clicking a few keys. "No, he is currently on suspension for roughing up a fellow agent. Here is his home address." He scribbled a few lines on a sticky note. "Do you want me to call him in?"
CW stood, "No, thank you. I am sure I will be able to track him down. Assuming he agrees to my offer, the transfer paperwork will go through immediately. I will strongly suggest that he burn his vacation time between now and then, to keep him out of your hair."
"Thank you sir." The other man had risen and was standing by the door, ready to escort CW out.
CW programed the address into the rental car's GPS. It took him into a surprisingly rough part of town. With an agent's salary, there was no reason for the man he was looking for to live in a neighborhood like this. The desert landscaping in the yards of the small houses was more dirt than artfully designed stone and cactus. Random free range chickens, and stray cats vied for dominance on the sidewalks. Brightly colored murals and graffiti decorated the walls of strip malls. The only well maintained buildings, the churches that seemed to be prevalent. IT was the type of neighborhood favored by the working poor, at least until hipsters and the Nuevo rich realized its convenient location to downtown and its quaint charm. When the GPS told him he was close, Weidman parked the conspicuously new car a block away from the address and proceed afoot.
A sleek motorcycle was parked in the driveway, a ramshackle chain link fence across the drive giving it scanty protection. CW let his eyes drift over the house: one story, white board with peeling paint, door centered in the middle of two windows, battered blinds closing off view of the interior. A heavily tattooed man walked around from behind the small house, "I've hospitalized people for less than what you're doing right now."
"What? Admiring your paint job?" CW stared down the younger man.
Unfazed, he responded, "I know what you are doing, and admiring my paint job isn't it."
CW merely stared at him, wondering how long it would be until he asked why he was there. The man came to the gate and pushed it open. He led CW around back, where a smoker was giving off delicious smells. He pulled a beer out of the cooler and wordlessly offered it to CW. CW took it, and he pulled another out for himself before sitting.
He made a big show of popping the top, stretching out his legs and taking a drink. Not bothering to make eye contact with CW, the man continued to drink and survey his small patch of dirt. CW smiled, and wished he had more time.
"Santiago Toombs, it has been a long time." From the side of his eye, he saw the other man nod his assent, but otherwise remain impassive. CW's smile widened, he had handled Santiago's initial recruitment and training before the young man had been transferred to Phoenix and placed undercover. He was pleased that he had continued to maintain such a cool façade. It gave lie to the reports that Santiago had developed into a loose cannon, and confirmed CW's conviction that he was recruiting the right agent. "I am here to offer you an opportunity."
At this, Santiago snorted. CW continued, "Fine, I am telling you about your transfer. New unit, based out of Quantico. You report in five weeks. Take vacation until then, pack up and move." CW handed him a business card, "Use the login instructions on the back and you will get the details you need to know for relocation."
Santiago pulled out another beer and popped the top. "Transfer or termination? I knew the Section Chief didn't like me, but moving me across country, that seems extreme even for a dick like him."
CW offered, "Actually, I came to recruit you. Fortunately for me it seems you are relatively unpopular."
Santiago grinned, "What can I say, I am an acquired taste." He took another long swallow of beer.
CW stood, "So, I will see you soon. If you need me call."
"I didn't say I would take it."
CW stared down at him, "You didn't say you wouldn't."
Santiago raised his beer in salute, and CW walked back to the front yard. He drove off feeling satisfied with the recruitment.
CW waited until he was back at the hotel to make the call. "Toombs is on board."
"Good," the melodic voice answered, "but it seems to me you are concentrating too much on the field agents. Have you secured the profiler yet?"
"No, I haven't identified the right asset yet."
"You know who I want."
CW was silent, he ran his hand across his face.
The voice continued, "I don't care what your personal opinion is on this one Weidman, make it happen. She is the best in the business and I want her. I trust you to be professional about this. Also, you need to bring on at least two technical assets, what is your progress on that?"
"I have identified the assets, one is currently based in Seattle, the other in Minneapolis. They are both hungry for advancement, want to prove themselves. It won't be difficult. After I get the situation in Vegas under control, I will arrange for their transfers. Everything is on track to have your team in place in five weeks as planned."
"Ok Weidman. They found a second body. One more and they will declare it a serial killer. I want the team in place and ready to go when they do." The line went dead and CW was alone in his quiet hotel room staring at the night lights of Phoenix as they twinkled.
CW sighed, he reminded himself that he came back to the Bureau to atone from some of his past sins, but he wondered to himself if recruiting the profiler his boss wanted would be worth it. He also wasn't sure Mars was going to be so easy to convince. It was going to be a long few weeks.