A/N: Thank you all for your interest in this story of mine.

Chapter 14

Research

There was security posted at the gate when they returned to Carrie's house. The guards were watching for them and opened the gate before Bunk had time to punch in the code.

Veronica sat stiffly beside Logan in the back seat. They'd been riding in near silence since Logan had laid his head back in obvious exhaustion and fallen to sleep. She supposed that his years in the Navy had taught him how to get rest whenever and wherever he could find it, but he looked terribly uncomfortable. In the front seat, Bunk had been wrapped up in the GPS's navigation and she'd sensed that the older man wasn't in the mood for a chat.

So Veronica had stared out her side of the window, deep in thought.

Mostly, she thought of the case and everything she'd learned in the past few days.

Manny Rose was, according to the Daily Neptune, a small time drug trafficker who had given up the names of two other dealers. He had some sort of connection with the police; again this was according to the Daily Neptune. He was keeping company with Sean Friedrich.

Sean Friedrich, alumnus of Neptune High, was a drug dealer consorting with Manny Rose. The two men had some sort of working or casual relationship. They were together at the horse races today, although, from what she'd witnessed, though they had sat together, they'd barely spoken. That confused her. Certainly, Sean would know that Manny had ratted out other people to keep his neck out of prison. She wondered just how Manny had picked which dealers got put away in exchange for his own freedom. From the looks of things, Manny knew more than just two other dealers.

Which led to the big kahuna himself. Larry Morrison, billionaire, investor, and all-around sleazebag. From what Logan had told her of the man, the guy was out for himself and no one else. Sure, he'd invested in a biotech company; that was admirable at face value. But deeper, the truth was not so romantic. He'd made billions off of the discovery.

Living in Neptune, Morrison was a big fish in a small pond. The city was expanding; more money was coming in, new businesses and buildings were being added every day. It was no crime that he'd been buying up properties that would have a good return in later years. The crime wasn't in his savvy buying strategy. But knowing that a property was condemned and having records changed was. Paying off inspectors so that he could make more money was sickening to Veronica. Knowing that Morrison had done his damage to the people on Adams Street in the old Mars Investigations building made her even angrier. Just how many people did he have in his pocket?

Morrison was the problem. Take Morrison down, the rest would just fall alongside him.

But how?

***Break***

Veronica was out of the car and making her way to the back door of the cottage before Bunk had even thrown the car into Park. She wasn't worried at that moment about Logan needing help getting out because she knew that Bunk would help him.

On her mind now were on the eyewitness statement that Lamb had unwittingly sent her from the night Jerry Sacks had died. Vinnie Van Lowe had given his statement as if he'd planned to be in her father's neighborhood that night and just happened to be at the scene of the crash.

She would bet her bottom dollar that Lamb had needed a witness and Vinnie Van Lowe had received the assignment.

Her thoughts shifted to the case files that Cliff had sent over the previous night. They were all the lost cases that Cliff had had her dad look over. She'd only briefly perused the files earlier, not really thinking much about them at the time. But now that she'd just realized that the name Vinnie Van Lowe had been in at least one of those reports as the PI for the prosecution, she believed it might best to give them a second look.

Why would the sheriff's department need to hire a PI firm?

Many years ago, Keith had been asked to step in during an investigation and was contracted to work for the sheriff. Part of that reason was because Keith had once been the sheriff himself and had a reputation for being impartial and on task. But Vinnie Van Lowe?

The year she'd left for Stanford, Vinnie Van Lowe had been elected sheriff over Keith. So, she supposed it was possible that Vinnie had a working relationship with the department now.

How she hated that things had become even more questionable in Neptune over the years.

If Vinnie Van Lowe was the source for all the 'breaks' in the cases that Cliff had lost, that meant that all of the information he was supplying was likely false.

It was time to find Mr. Vinnie Van Lowe.

***Break***

Logan dragged himself out of the back seat of the rental car and staggered up the stairs and into the kitchen. The drive mixed with his pain meds had made him queasy. But those two things combined with too much exertion made Logan feel lethargic and dopey.

Bunk followed him into the kitchen. Veronica had disappeared the minute they'd parked. Something was on her mind and she was on a mission. Logan wished only a little that he had more energy to care. When Veronica had suggested that he rest, Logan had balked, but now he realized she probably could see his exhaustion more plainly that he could.

"You're girl sure has her wheels turning," Bunk commented as he set the car keys on the island. "She's as sharp as a tack."

"Bunk," Logan said, trying his best to not sound irritated, "Honestly, you've got to stop that. She already told me that you think we're together."

"Don't you want to be together?" Bunk asked, his eyebrows raised. "Seems to me you've waited long enough."

"Long enough?" Logan shook his head, "Bunk, I haven't even talked to her in nine years! We don't even know each other anymore."

"Nine years ain't long in this world, Echo. As a fighter pilot, you ought to know that. Nine years ain't nothin'."

"Yeah, well, tell that to her." Logan ran a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes on the floor. He really didn't want to talk to Bunk about this right now. Veronica's actions all day had been a surprise, and to analyze it to death was more than he had energy for at the moment.

"You two can't see what someone looking in from the outside can see," Bunk said wisely, eerily echoing Logan's similar thoughts about not seeing his own exhaustion. "But nine years for you two is just a drop in the bucket." The older man paused for a moment when Logan turned around to look at him. "Do you know that some people wait their whole lives for the little bit that you already had with her? And to get it back…don't let it go this time, Echo. There isn't a good enough reason in the world to let it go."

***Break**

Five thousand dollars.

Mac had given Dick five dollars and he had turned it into five thousand dollars.

When the clerk handed over Mac's winnings, there was a moment where she'd almost tried to give the cash back. Dick had laughed at her, taken the cash for her and then led her out to the parking lot. He'd then taken her car keys from her hand and helped her into the passenger side of her little car. Numb, she'd barely noticed when Dick crawled into the driver's seat and started the car. He'd made her put on her seat belt ("Put me in the driver's seat, baby, you never know where you'll end up!") before pulling out of their spot and into the line of traffic waiting to exit the park.

"Where are we headed?" Dick's question broke Mac out of her shocked daze.

She blinked. "Uhm…"she took out her phone and read a message that had come in from Veronica earlier. "Toward Big Bear."

"Nice," Dick quipped and stepped on the gas pedal, neatly steering the little car around a line of cars and quickly pulling out onto the highway. Behind them, someone laid on a car horn and she heard some yelling. "I have to admit, your Power Wheels here can dodge and dart pretty impressively," he dragged the words out comically. "It's small enough no one even knows you were there."

"Yeah, well, be careful with it. It's the only one I've got," Mac said, holding onto the dash as he whipped around more traffic. "You don't have to make it so people remember us."

"No one will remember this yawner."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

Dick casually flicked his eyes over to hers and shrugged before looking back to the road. "I just always took you for a step above this, actually. This car is beige," he faux-gagged and she smirked, annoyed, "and boring. Safe. You never used to be safe. What happened?"

"Beige and boring happens to be a very adult trend."

He guffawed. "Who needs more of that in their life? Where's the green VW girl I used to know?"

Mac chewed her lip. "Why didn't you tell me that I could win that much money on a horse that you chose out of your ass off of five bucks?"

"Because the alternative was much more fun to watch."

**Break**

Veronica's phone pinged telling her that Mac and Dick were on their way.

She was staring at the Google search she'd brought up which contained information about the PI firm ran by one Vincent Van Lowe. After reading it, she'd opened the email from Cliff and went through the cases he'd sent over to her. She wanted to get a better understanding of the cases that the attorney had lost over the past couple years. Almost every case involved lower-class blue-collared men being charged with anything from theft to drug trafficking. None of the cases involved the accused being offered or taking any sort of deal. The book, as they say, had been thrown at them.

What seemed interesting to Veronica was the lack of physical evidence in every case. Somehow, these men were picked up mid-law-breaking and thrown straight into the slammer. Cliff was their court-appointed attorney in the fifty-dollar suit who was supposed to happily collect his paycheck and move on with his life, no questions asked.

Instead, Cliff was documenting every strange case that came across his desk and filing it away with red flags,while biding his time.

Veronica picked up her phone and dialed, waiting for the call to connect.

"Talk to me," Cliff's deep voice came through.

"Cliffie."

"V."

"These cases. I don't like 'em."

"Too true, V. I knew you wouldn't. I've got more news you're not gonna like."

***Break***

She came out of the office in a stupor. Cliff had told her that Eli "Weevil" Navarro had been shot the night before. Even more unsettling was the fact that he was being charged with assault with a deadly weapon by none other than Celeste Kane.

Veronica sighed. She just couldn't seem to get away from the Kane's, no matter how hard she tried. Of course they were involved. Why wasn't she not more surprised?

From down the hall, she could hear the sound of the television blaring loudly. She made her way to the family room where she found Bunk sitting in the easy chair watching the evening news. Logan was nowhere to be seen, and Veronica hoped that meant he had gone to lie down.

Veronica sat down heavily on the couch.

"They just played your pictures." Bunk took a sip from a bottle of beer she hadn't realized he was holding. "If I didn't know better, I would think you enjoy making enemies out of the fine men in blue."

She smiled. "Only on odd numbered days. And only in Neptune."

"Aha. There's the clincher. Must live in the 90909 zip."

"Enemy is a strong word."

"Would you dispute it, though?"

"Probably not." Veronica made herself more comfortable. "What did the report say?"

"Well," Bunk dragged out, "Martina Vazquez reported that Sheriff Lamb has no further comment at this time, but that she would have more from him on the nine o'clock news."

"Hmm…her charm didn't go over quite as well as it did earlier in the day? I can't imagine why he wouldn't want to talk to her about this."

Bunk grinned. "She did say that Lamb insisted he hadn't been…'apprised' of the situation or the pictures and wanted further investigation about whether the photos had been doctored. He's still searching for Echo as a 'person of interest.'"

"Speaking of Logan, were you able to talk him into resting?"

Bunk nodded and gestured to the floor above them. "He said he was going to shower and then maybe lie down. But…he looked ready to keel over on the kitchen floor."

"Have you checked on him?"

In answer, Bunk pulled his phone out and frowned. "Nope. But I need to go talk my guys and figure out the plan to pick up your friends. Mr. Casablancas texted not too long ago and said he and your friend were on their way." He stood up. "If you could check on Echo, that would help me out. We've got to make sure no one's following your friends and get them and their car in here without anyone noticing."

***Break***

Logan stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel off the hook. He gingerly patted himself dry and then wrapped the towel around his waist. In the mirror, he could see how worn out he looked. There were dark circles under his eyes and there was a slightly pinched look around his mouth that betrayed the pain he was actually in.

Bunk had mentioned that Logan had seen worse than this shot to the arm. Thinking of it now, Logan opened his towel and eyed the angry looking scar that graced his upper thigh. During his first few practiced ejections out of the cockpit, there had been a malfunction and a piece of the frame had ripped into his suit and into his thigh. He'd been extremely lucky that it hadn't severed the artery and though he'd recovered quickly, it had left Logan with a battle scar and a story to tell. Not many people outside of the Navy knew about the injury, mostly because there had been few to tell. Only Dick and Carrie; now Carrie was dead. Thinking of it made him feel very alone.

A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts. Logan wrapped the towel tighter around his waist, and rubbed the hand towel through his hair as he headed to the door.

"Patience never was your thing, old man," he said as he swung the door open. "I told ya I'd be fine, and I am."

"Well, that's a relief," Veronica's breathless voice responded and Logan stopped running the towel over his head in surprise when he opened his eyes to meet her blue ones.

Startled that it was Veronica and not Bunk, Logan said nothing when she moved purposely past him into the small, cramped bathroom and looked around. "Bunk said you were probably going to need help with your bandages and I was elected seeing as," she raised her hands up and air-quoted, "'he needed to go and figure a way to get Dick and Mac here safely and without compromising our location' or some such nonsense." She shrugged and turned back to face him, and he noticed right away that she wasn't averting her eyes from his bare chest like she had only two nights prior. In fact, he could have sworn he saw female appreciation flash across her face before she turned to the counter. She cleared her throat. "Now, where is the ointment?"

"On the dresser in my room."

Logan led her out of the bathroom and into the room he'd taken over, tightening the towel at his waist as he walked. He could feel droplets of water running down his neck and creeping underneath the hand towel he'd left slung casually around his neck. Taking hold of the towel, Logan dried the nape of his neck better and motioned to the dresser where the ointment and bandages sat.

"I kind of perfected the one-handed application."

She smirked but didn't meet his eye. "Well, that's good. Are you saying you don't need help?"

"I've never refused the help of a lovely lady."

***Break***

Was Logan flirting with her? Veronica opened the tube of ointment before turning back to him. The bandages he had were attached firmly to his skin and she could tell he'd probably had help dressing it earlier from Bunk. One handed, her ass. She'd watched him struggle to apply his bandages the first night they'd spent here and knew there was no way he could do this alone, not yet.

Bandaging Logan tonight was completely different than the first night she'd helped him. Both of their defenses seemed a level lower since they'd arrived at Big Bear. Today's events alone had taken Veronica's own defenses down a few notches and she felt as if she were seeing Logan in a completely different light than when she'd first arrived back in California. He was more human than she'd let herself remember him being. He did things for other people rather than for self-serving purposes. He genuinely seemed concerned other people's needs.

She was humbled by his giving nature. He'd turned everything that he once was into something positive and useful. What did she have that could compare to that?

Not much.

***Break**

Mac had to pee.

They'd been driving for over an hour in stop and go traffic and the pressure on her bladder was well past the brink of misery.

"Is there any way you'd be willing to take the next exit and hit a gas station?" she finally asked, her voice tight.

Dick didn't even glance at her before he started merging over. "No prob."

Not even a question or a barb. After ten more minutes, they were parked and out of the car. Mac didn't say another word before she rushed inside the Chevron's door and darted to the restroom.

When she finally emerged, feeling refreshed and much better, Dick was perusing the junk food aisle, eyeing the beef jerky. She sidled up beside him. "You know that stuff will kill you, right?"

"How would you know?" he shot back without looking at her, "Ever tried it?"

"Well, no…"

"Jerky is a lot like a raisin, you know." He grinned at her dubious look. "No, seriously!" His grin grew wider. "Look, see, jerky is dried meat; a raisin is a dried grape…" he laughed when she blanched. "All I'm saying is that the texture is similar."

She regarded the tubes of jerky doubtfully and then gave him a tiny smile, holding back her laugh. "Hmm…I'm thinking not."

"Now, you say that like you know from experience. But my knowledge of you says you're gonna march your cute little butt over to that old fruit sitting in the fridge case and grab a melon cup and pretend it doesn't make your stomach heave with every rancid bite." He quirked his brows and unscrewed the cap of a jerky container to grab out a few sticks. "Honestly, there is no good choice here but I don't see much more for options, so you might wanna try one. Protein is a good thing." He waved a stick near her face and she stepped back.

"You can't offend me with that stuff, Dick. My brother tries all the time with no success."

"I don't think it has anything to do with offense. You're too skinny and I think you might enjoy it."

"I…think I'm gonna go check out the fruit cups."

His chortle followed her all the way to the open fridge case. Sure enough, all the 'fresh' fruit cups looked about ten days past their prime and nothing appealed to her as palatable. She finally settled on a very ripe banana and a V8. Dick waited for her to join him at the checkout counter before buying the food over her weak protests.

They got back in the car and Mac checked the GPS on her phone. "Surely we don't need to get back on the freeway and into that mess again. There's got to be another way to Big Bear."

"There's always a scenic route. And, by the way, my name's not Shirley."

***Break***

His towel was nearly falling off. Veronica had just finished with the bandage at his back and when he turned to face her, Logan realized his predicament. In an effort to reclaim his dignity, he grabbed the edge of his towel and tucked it tighter into him and then leaned against the edge of the dresser to keep the blasted fabric in place.

Not noticing, Veronica's fingers peeled the bandage from his arm. "You really worked to make sure this didn't get wet," she commented as she tugged. "It's quite stuck."

She bent closer to the wound making it so that Logan's chin was mere inches from the top of her head. "I had Bunk help," he agreed, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. He closed his eyes and tried to gain his composure, gripping his towel more firmly. She smelled just like she used to—like marshmallows and a touch of something else…

"What was that?"

Startled, Logan opened his eyes and was greeted with a question in hers. "What?" he responded dumbly.

She gave him a humorous look. "You said something."

"Uh…no, it was nothing." Thankfully, she shrugged and went back to her work at his arm. He had a feeling, though, that he knew what he'd said aloud and figured she knew he knew what he'd said as well.

The bandage suddenly roughly gave away and Logan flinched back in surprised pain. "Ouch."

"Ooh, sorry."

"You don't sound sorry."

"Well, you're a tough guy." She winked at him and he grinned back at her. "Buck up, I hear you can take a lot."

"Bunk needs to shut the fuck up," he grumbled.

"Bunk tells me a lot more than you do," she told him, reaching around him to grab the ointment she'd set back on the dresser. She dabbed a bit on her finger and then applied it to his arm. "This looks a lot better tonight."

"I can tell its healing. It's starting to itch."

"Logan." Veronica stilled a moment before replacing the ointments cap. She took a step back. "What other injuries have you had?"

Her expression was neutral, as if the question was commonplace and something she didn't care whether he answered truthfully or not. But her eyes were insistent. She really wanted to know.

Looking away from her, Logan mumbled, "I've had some near misses. Nothing too serious."

Veronica drew in a shaky breath. "Somehow, I'm thinking you're being modest. Near misses means near death."

He thought of the scar at his thigh and winced. "I've never been shot until now; that's a plus."

"Boastful of dodging literal bullets," Veronica murmured. "But the Navy must have its share of danger. Especially for a pilot."

"Mostly, it's deciding whether to wear flip flops or a parka." Encouraged by her smile, Logan told her, "You know, one day you might be somewhere damn hot and then the next it could be snowing. Weather on the carrier changes every five minutes."

"What's the carrier like?" Veronica applied the bandage to his shoulder and began taping it up. He was glad for her more comfortable tone tonight and that she was allowing easy conversation and not pressing the subject of his injuries.

Again, he tightened the towel at his waist. "It's large. Like a city on water. There are different areas, you know, so you don't know everyone. There'd be no way."

"How long are you gone from home?"

Her voice was small and Logan glanced quickly at her and then away. Softly, he said, "Normal deployment is one-hundred and eighty days. Half of that is at sea; the other half is tied up somewhere ashore. I live near the base, so I can fly when I'm home here in California...they know I don't have a lot of family and so I spend most of my time there."

"Six months, huh? That's not too bad, I guess." She pressed her fingers against the edge of the bandaged arm. "All done."

"Thank you." Logan tipped his head down to look at his newly bandaged shoulder. As he looked back up, he had to pull back a bit so that he didn't bump into Veronica, who had also leaned closer to look at the wound. Her hair was tucked back behind her ears, and she was biting her bottom lip. His breath caught when her eyes met his and she straightened.

She cleared her throat, and Logan felt his own throat tighten at the look in her eyes. Her pupils had dilated from the dimness in the room, and there was heat coming from the hand that she'd placed on his forearm. Without thought, he set his hand on her other arm, so that they were each touching one another.

Time seemed to stand still. There was no sound except for their breathing. The air felt heavy even though they'd left the windows open during the day to let in the fresh mountain air. Their eyes were locked on one another; neither blinked.

He licked his dry lips as he brushed his fingers up Veronica's arm to the base of her neck. He was surprised when she stepped even closer to him and tilted her face up toward his.

God, am I ready for this? His thoughts were betraying his insecurities. He searched her face. There was no trace of anger or distrust reflected there. All he could see there was something that he could only describe as longing. He was sure that she probably saw the same longing written on his own.

Logan bent closer to her just as she bent closer to him.

They were no more than an inch apart now. Her lips parted into a slight smile and Logan tipped his mouth to hers, capturing her mouth in a fluid motion, hungry and carnal. This kiss was different than last night's. It was warm and full of purpose. He cupped her jaw and drew her into him, tracing the fine bone with his fingers as he lazily slid his tongue into her mouth.

From far away, Logan heard a moan and realized it was Veronica as she slid her arms up and around his neck.

"Echo!"

Veronica pulled away from him, her eyes wide. There was the thumping of feet up the stairs that was progressively getting louder and again, Bunk called out, "Hey, Echo!"

His hands still cupped Veronica's face and he tipped head just enough so that their foreheads touched. "Duty calls." With that, he placed a gentle kiss against her forehead and set her away from him, tightening the towel as he did so. Logan then strode to the half opened door and looked out. Seeing Bunk in the hall, he called out, "Yo, man, what's up?"

Bunk had just cleared the stairs and was walking purposefully toward Logan's room. The older man took in the sight of Logan, clad only in his towel and bandages. "Oh, sorry, I thought you'd be dressed by now. Casablancas called, and they're awful close. We're meeting him and his girlfriend and then ditching the car."

"Okay, man, let me get some jeans on…do you want me to come with you?" Logan turned back in the room just as Veronica slipped past him and out into the hall.

**Break**

Bunk was sneaky, Veronica decided.

"You're a sick old man, you know that?" she hissed when she met Bunk's sly grin as she passed by him in the hallway. Bunk didn't look the least bit surprised to see her in Logan's room. Which, why should he? He'd sent her in there.

"Wouldn't want you to get too carried away, now would we?" he murmured low enough that only she could hear him. "I don't think that makes me sick. But what do I know?"

Ignoring him, Veronica headed down the darkened hallway and let herself into her room at the other end of the hall.

The guest room had slowly begun to feel like her own after three days of living there. Though none of the clothes were hers and the bed was more like a hotel room's, being alone in the confines of the four walls of the room felt like a safe haven to her now.

She still felt flushed from Logan's kiss and his fingertips on her skin. She relived the feel of their lips touching, the slow lazy heat that had started rising up through her belly that had been so rudely interrupted by Bunk's blasted yelling.

Why hadn't she stopped Logan? She'd seen it coming; she'd known the entire time she'd been changing his bandage that the unspoken heat between them was building and building. When she'd looked into his brown eyes and seen the familiar look he'd given her, she'd been lost. A total goner. There was just something about Logan that Veronica had never been able refuse.

Opening the bathroom door, Veronica flipped the lights on and pulled out a towel, readying herself for her own shower. She turned on the water and stripped out of her little racing day dress. When she stepped under the hot water, Veronica plunged her face directly into the spray of water and let the warm shards of liquid hit her face, gasping from the shock of it.

She ran her fingers through her hair and breathed in the warm, humid air that was now filling the shower, grateful for how the heat enveloped her.

Her mind wandered back to Logan and his brown eyes. What was she going to do? For the first time in a long time, Veronica felt powerless and it didn't even bother her.

A/N: Thank you for reading, and if you have the time, a Review is always welcome.

A/N: A special thank you to Bondopoulos, because you know that your advice, critiques, and suggestions are always welcome, even when I whine. Thank you for your continued efforts in this story, even when I'm sure you've wondered if I would finish this; you know I won't leave us all hanging, so there's that.