CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Right before her release, Logan managed to extract a promise of one day from her. One complete day of resting in bed with no distractions. She was quick to point out that he was a very big distraction, but she didn't expect him to take her seriously. Now she found herself alone in an empty house with nothing to do. No rose on his pillow with a note, but he did leave a tray of food on the table, which he'd shoved next to the bed. There were also books, magazines, and Sunday's crossword puzzle. Clearly, he was serious about the all day in bed thing. She picked up an issue of Modern Bride and smiled. Okay, leaving me food, could count as a romantic gesture.
Veronica plumped up the pillows and tried to get comfortable. Now that she was no longer attached to monitors and under close supervision by the trauma surgeon and her ob/gyn, the strongest medication she was allowed to take was Tylenol. It was not working. Next time you get shot, do it when you're not pregnant then you can have all the painkillers you want. Logan's, that's not funny, Veronica, resounded in her head. But, hey, it only hurts when I cry. Actually, it hurt consistently. Her entire body felt like it went the full twelve rounds with Ali.
Lifting the food tray was problematic and hurt like a bitch. She left it where it was and grazed. Graze, like a cow, Veronica. Sometimes she wished she could turn off her own head. There were thick slices of Dick's famous French toast, a carafe of fresh squeezed orange juice, apples with peanut butter, zucchini walnut muffins, and a bacon and avocado sandwich. How long does he expect to be gone? She munched her food and flipped through the pages of the magazine.
An interminable amount of time later, or fifteen minutes according to her cell phone, she was done. Relaxing was for other people. In her head she compromised with Logan, she would stay in bed, but only if she could do something more interesting than the crossword puzzle. She found the case file and her laptop within easy reach on the floor next to his side. Veronica took this as his tacit agreement to her proposed compromise.
She grinned when she found his note was taped to the top of her computer. Sometimes I know you too well, Mars. Just stay in bed and I'll be home as soon as I can. I may even bring lunch. Love, L.
Her first call was to Norris. "Hey, it's Veronica."
"How are you feeling?"
Like a punching bag. "Good. Um, Logan told me you came to see me, thank you for the flowers."
"You're welcome." He laughed, "so how torturous is this for you? Exchanging pleasantries when all you really want to do is ask me if I have any information?"
"What's the phrase? Cruel and unusual punishment? That about sums it up."
He laughed again, "I thought so."
"Well, are you going to put me out of my misery?"
"The gun used to shoot Piznarski was traced back to Philip Dunn. He claims he no longer had it, gave it to his sister sometime last year when she was having problems with an ex."
That was nice and neat. Marjorie was the direct link from Veronica's sweater to the San Diego convention center. Then it was her car at the scene and now her gun as the murder weapon. All the clues were nicely laid out for Veronica to find. It was like a double bluff. Someone not only framed Veronica, but left a trail of bread crumbs to a convenient scapegoat. Two frame jobs for the price of one. When Marjorie Dunn came to Dick's house she was a wreck. She didn't look like a cold blooded killer, she looked terrified. We were friends, those were her last words, we were friends.
"Does that mean I'm off the hook for killing Piz?"
"You'd think so, but no. This is Neptune, Veronica. Lamb's theory is that she was your accomplice. He knows she was in your office a few days before the shooting."
"And I suppose I shot her and then myself to make it look good? What did I do with the gun? Take the time to bury it in the sand and build a sandcastle or two while I waited for the ambulance?"
"Either that or Dick Casablancas helped you."
"How exactly did I get all these people to help me on my killing spree?"
"It certainly wasn't your charm and personality."
Veronica sighed. "I'm sorry Norris; I didn't mean to take out my frustration on you. I really do appreciate your help."
"I'm just sorry I didn't have better news for you."
Veronica thanked him again and ended the call. Accomplice, Marjorie wasn't terrified of something, but of someone. She thumbed through the case files and pulled out the one labeled Marjorie Dunn. The financial information was sparse. Not because Mac wasn't thorough, but because Marjorie didn't own much. There was a small savings account with a thousand dollars and an equally small checking account. Sporadic deposits, the largest sums usually around the end of the month, which she then sent right to the landlord for her crummy apartment. The other checks were for her insurance and cell phone.
Her employment history was just as spotty. Marjorie and she were the same age so these early jobs at fast food restaurants were as a teenager. They lasted on average two months and then there was a long gap in between. Her next job wasn't until college at the Neptune Women's Clinic, which she managed to hold on to for almost a year. Then there was nothing until she turned up at Dunn BMW. The tax returns were all one page easy files and held no new information. Veronica tossed the file aside and picked up her phone.
"Smart Start."
"Lucy, right? This is Veronica Mars; I was in a few weeks ago and met with Jimmy. I was wondering if I might talk to him for a minute."
"I'm sorry hon; he's out at a show."
"Could you tell me where? I'm perfectly happy to go meet him and have this discussion in person." Except for the fact that Logan would lose his mind if he came home and found you gone.
"I'm sorry I'm not allowed to give out that information. Hold on, please." The refusal to hand out Jimmy's whereabouts answered Veronica's first question. "Was there something else Miss Mars?"
With an added boost of cheer, she said, "Please, call me Veronica," like they were destined to become fast friends. "Jimmy was working a conference on," she quickly dug her calendar from her purse and supplied the date, "can you tell me who hired him for that job?"
"No, I'm sorry I can't. You're going to have to talk to Jimmy." Veronica was just about to disconnect the call when Lucy added, "do you want his cell number?"
"I would love his cell number." She stuck her hand back in her bag and groped around the bottom for a pen. "Go ahead, give it to me." Veronica wrote it on the front of Marjorie's file, thanked Lucy for her help and hung up. She dialed Jimmy's cell.
"Kincaid."
"Jimmy, this is Veronica Mars, we met…"
"Of course, Veronica. How are you? Any luck tracking down my spouse Marjorie?"
If by tracking down you mean watching her die, then yes, I was real lucky. "No, not yet. I was wondering if you could tell me who hired you for that job at the San Diego convention center."
"You're going to have to be more specific. I do a lot of jobs there." Veronica gave him the date and waited. "I'm not good with dates, names and faces, only. This was the day your father was following me, right?" His bemusement told Veronica it was his new favorite story to tell around the water cooler.
"Right, he mentioned a private investigator's symposium."
"Hmm, I think it was a fashion show. If I remember, we had a lot of trouble doing the wiring for the big screens. Had to make sure none of it touched the stage or the runway, couldn't have any of the models tripping over them in their heels. Can't tell you the company name because it was French," an embarrassed chuckle, "and I literally can't say it, but I can tell you it meant something like head to toe. I know because I asked someone."
"Are you going to be back in the office later? Maybe you could check your records for me and get their contact information?"
"I'm going to be here late, what if I call you in the morning, say around nine, nine-thirty?"
"Perfect. Do you need my cell?"
"Nope. I'll save it in my phone as soon as we hang up."
Something was gnawing at her, but the harder she tried to focus on it, the more it eluded her. She picked up her laptop and started to type in French and fashion and then laughed at the ridiculousness of that search. She tried translate 'head to toe' into French and got 'la tête aux pieds.' No such company name. She was about to try another variation when Logan walked in carrying shopping bags. Veronica shut the laptop, "Where have you been all day?"
He grinned, "Nag, nag, nag- those aren't the wifely duties you should be practicing." Teasing flirt? Okay, I can play this game.
"Well, maybe if you didn't leave me alone in bed, we could've worked on my other duties."
"Hmm if I knew that was an option." Logan dropped the bags. He put one knee on the bed and leaned over her. The instant his mouth met hers, Veronica buried her fingers in his hair and drew him closer. Logan broke off the kiss. "I see," he put a soft kiss on her nose, "you have been hard at work, resting."
She shrugged, "I was bored." Her gaze moved over the black Henley shirt hugging his chest, down to the worn jeans. "And now I'm not."
"Veronica, stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like we're stranded on a deserted island and you haven't eaten in weeks and suddenly I'm food."
"Entirely your fault for being tempting." He backed off the bed, "don't leave. I promise not to behave."
"Veronica Mars are you trying to seduce me?"
"Is it working?"
"You may have to buy me dinner first." He picked up one of the bags and stretched out on the bed next to her. "I was helping your dad move your boxes into the house."
"And that took all day?"
"Three hours is not all day."
"Wait a minute, you were with my dad and you were moving boxes where?"
"Are you having a hard time following the conversation? Should I talk slower? Draw pictures perhaps?" She lightly punched his arm. "Your dad and I moved your stuff from his house to our house. He mentioned something about you taking it easy for the next few weeks, you know, buying furniture and decorating, being all domestic. Then we both had a good long laugh."
She made a face, "our house?"
'Is a very, very, very fine house." He kissed her nose. "And then we went shopping." He pulled out several boxes. They were all labeled the same, something called Drop Cam; Wi-Fi indoor video monitoring.
"You bought surveillance equipment?"
"It's a baby monitor."
Veronica grinned. "I don't think so. Baby monitors are these little plastic things that look like walkie-talkies from which you can hear if the baby is crying."
Logan frowned at her, "for other babies maybe, but not for Wyatt. These have sound and high-def video with motion detectors and night vision. They upload video to the cloud and you can check them from all your mobile devices. You can even get alerts when there's motion that shouldn't be there."
And you were worried that he'd be overprotective. "Uh, don't you think that's a little extreme?"
"This is us Veronica." Good point. "Where's your phone?" She handed it to him. He got out of bed and disappeared from the room with her cell and laptop. When he finally returned, the laptop was open and he was tapping on the keys. He tossed her the phone; a clear view of Dick's kitchen was on the screen.
"The kitchen might not be the best place to put the camera. Do you know Dick keeps his porn in there?"
Logan nodded, "he gets hungry afterward. Says it saves him time."
"Do I even want to know how you know this?"
"Dick is pretty much an open book, Veronica. You know, the kind that's easy to read with big pictures and small words, but not intended for children." He looked up from the computer, "speaking of Dick, what's up with him and Mac?"
"You noticed that too? I'm pretty sure they had an actual date the other night, an all night, stumble home early in the morning, date."
"Do tell."
Veronica shrugged, "that's all I know."
"Really? No surveillance photos and bugged phone conversations? You're slipping Mars." He tapped one of the boxes, "we can always put one in Dick's room. They plug right in to an outlet, twenty second installation."
"Eww, no. Now that you've completely turned me off, what are we going to do with the rest of our day?"
"Completely?" The one word was enough. You're like a light switch, Veronica. Logan slowly removed each of the Drop Cam boxes from the bed and stacked them on the table, his eyes never wavering from her.
"Now who's food," she murmured. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it over the boxes before undoing the snap on his jeans. Veronica swallowed, "uh, Logan." Her eyes were riveted to his hands as he lowered the zipper. He shucked his jeans and joined her on the bed, stretching out on his side facing her. Her eyes devoured every inch of him and her fingers longed to do the same, but if she touched him she wouldn't be able to stop.
Logan didn't have the same reserve. His hand skimmed over the curve of her hip and drew her closer. He nuzzled his face into her neck and kissed her throat. "I was reading," his mouth moved lower, "that during pregnancy," he pressed his lips against the base of her neck. Veronica wondered if he could feel the staccato beat of her pulse. "Some women are insatiable." Did he have a direct pipeline into her thoughts?
"Logan we can't, I can't…"
He lifted his face to look at her, "Veronica as much as I want to, and believe me I want to, I'm not going to take advantage of you in your weakened condition, but," he lowered his head, "that doesn't mean I can't help you with your frustration."
His words elicited the desired response and her belly clenched in anticipation. The instant his mouth moved over her, all coherent thought fled and Veronica gave herself up to the sensations. Her fingers dug into the mattress, clutching the sheets and her hips arched toward him. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, but not before a soft moan escaped. So close. When it came, the release rippled through her body in waves and she fell back against the mattress. Woof.
Logan kissed his way up her body, and spooned her. Veronica closed her eyes and relaxed against him. "I feel like I should return the favor."
"This was all about you." He brushed back a stray strand of her hair and kissed her temple, "besides you can always return the favor when you're dressed in your Catwoman suit."
She smiled, "I don't really want to wait that long." Logan wrapped his leg around her, slid his hand over her belly and kissed her neck. She wiggled closer and he groaned.
"I'm going to take a shower," he rolled away and climbed out of bed, "do you want lunch first?"
"A shower?"
"Yes, a very cold one."
She inched toward the edge of the bed, "I'd like a shower."
"Veronica you're killing me. I'm going to shower and you're going to stay here."
"Spoilsport." She watched him go, enjoying the view. Her phone chimed with an alert that sounded like a breaking news bulletin. This just in, Logan Echolls is sexy. Veronica grinned and patted the sheets in search of her cell. An image of Logan standing naked in Dick's kitchen chugging down orange juice was on her screen. All hail the new baby monitor. She watched until he left the room. Voyeur much, Veronica.
She really did want a shower and more Tylenol, not necessarily in that order. Using the table for support, she pulled herself out of bed and padded into the kitchen with her Tylenol in hand. She took two pills and downed a glass of water. A late lunch wasn't a bad idea. There was a platter of hummus, crackers, and cheese in the fridge. She set it on the counter and munched while she perused her food choices, picking as she went. A foil wrapped bowl looked interesting.
"I would've gotten you…" Veronica jumped and dropped the bowl. It shattered against the tile. Its contents splashed against her legs and she froze. "It's okay Veronica, you're okay." Her eyes found his. Logan uttered a soft, "fuck." He circled around the island, avoiding the glass, and slowly slipped his arms around her. He picked her up and carried her to the couch. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you."
"I was hungry." Logan rubbed her back. This was not good. If she was going to jump at every noise or every time someone entered a room, she was going to be a basket case. It was too much; Dad's accident, Gia, Piz, and now this, she needed a break. "I'm going to take the Bar exam." His hand stilled. "In February. I've already registered and signed myself up for a prep course."
"Okay."
"That's it? Just, okay?" Her words were harsh.
"What do you want me to say Veronica? You spent three years in law school; I'm thinking it wasn't just for something to do. Oh hey law school, that sounds like a fun way to pass the time."
She shifted in his lap to face him, "are you mad?"
"No, worried." He cupped her face, "you're not exactly in the best place to be making life altering decisions."
"Life altering decisions like you're reenlisting?" Logan frowned at her. "Dottie told me. She said in two years when your initial commitment is up, you're going to reenlist."
"If you're spoiling for a fight, you're going to be disappointed. Fighting with me is not going to make you feel better, more like your old self. I was going to reenlist, but things are different now. I wouldn't make that decision without you."
Her anger dissipated. She buried her face against his chest and started to cry. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Nothing is wrong with you," he stroked her hair, "you're perfect."
"A perfect mess," her words were muffled.
"My perfect mess." He carried her to the bathroom and helped her shower. His jaw clenched when he removed her bandages and saw the stitches, but he remained silent. Veronica sat on the bench while he washed her hair.
She was capable of showering on her own, but she found his tender ministrations soothing and she suspected it was the same for him. It was always something she withheld from him, denied him; the right to take care of her. This was a very new feeling for her. She didn't hate it, but it felt strange to be this exposed without her wisecracks as a shield.
Logan wrapped her in a towel and kissed her, "thank you." She stepped in closer and rested her head on his chest. His arms slipped around her waist. "You need to put a new bandage on."
"Let's just stay like this a little longer."
"It would be more comfortable if we were lying down."
Veronica smiled, "laying down gets us into trouble."
"You underestimate me. I could get us into a lot of trouble right here." His hands slid lower, "should I demonstrate?"
"You have no idea how much I want to say yes."
"You're wrong." Simultaneously, they both took a step back. Logan patted the stitches dry with the edge of her towel, then smoothed on the antibiotic cream and reapplied a fresh bandage. "Now let's get you something to eat."
"I should get dressed first."
He grinned, "I think you should stick with the towel. I'm into it." She started to walk away. At the door, she turned back to him and dropped the towel. He lunged for her and she skittered away. A wide grin spread across her face when she heard the shower start. That's just mean, Veronica.
She got dressed and sat on the edge of the bed. The shopping bags called to her. Her dad and Logan baby shopping. Forget bugging Dick and Mac, I should've placed full time video surveillance on the two men in my life. The first bag contained something called an Ergobaby carrier. An image of Logan with the baby nestled against his chest made her mushy. Veronica Mars you are a marshmallow. A musical play mat, educational toys, and the entire DVD collection of the Baby Einstein videos were in the next bag. The handle of a baseball bat was sticking up from the last bag. She pulled out the bat and peeked in the bag, a baseball and a child's size catcher's mitt. Veronica grinned.
Logan's laughter made her look up. "You like?" She'd covered herself from head-to-toe, socks, sweatpants, a long-sleeved t-shirt, gloves and a hat. "Will this help? If not, tell me now, because I'm hot."
His eyes darkened, "yes, you are."
"No help at all then." Veronica tugged off the hat and gloves. She shed the sweatpants to reveal another pair of his boxers. Then she gingerly peeled off the layer of t-shirt to the tank top underneath. Logan was leaning on the wall intently watching. If she didn't want the man to suffer through yet another cold shower, she needed a distraction. Her hands closed around the bat. "A baseball bat? I thought you were convinced she's a girl?"
He frowned at her, "little girls play baseball too Veronica."
"I know, but it seems unlike you."
"You know me so well; your dad bought it. Me? I know nothing about baseball; I'm going to buy her a surfboard." He grinned, "but I can see it now. Wyatt Echolls, pitching for…uh, the Yankees? Dodgers? Those are teams right?"
Veronica chuckled, "it might break her grandfather's heart if she doesn't sign with the Padres."
"She'll be a pioneer; first woman in professional baseball."
"She's not even here yet and you have her off playing baseball and surfing," Veronica shook her head, "next you'll have her going to medical school in her spare time."
"Hmm, Doctor Echolls, that's pretty good, I like it."
Veronica put everything back on the floor and burrowed herself under the covers, "You know what I would like? Food."
"Was that a hint for me to get you something?"
"Too subtle?"
"We can watch movies while we eat."
Veronica groaned, "please tell me you're not going to make me watch Easy Rider again?"
Logan started to walk away, "Freedom: That's what it's all about. But talkin' about it and bein' it, that's two different things."