Chapter 25: Try My Hardest Just to Forget Everything

SUMMARY: Veronica, Lynn, and Meg head back to Neptune. Aaron's an ass (of course). So is Troy (also of course). Plans are carried out.

Conner took them to a snazzy sushi bar where he and Veronica got into a debate on martial arts. The actor had been taking eskrima lessons and had since become an aficionado of the discipline, while Veronica stood by Krav Maga, which she had been studying for eight years by this point. He was impressed upon learning she held a brown belt, but not sufficiently impressed to give up his position.

"Jason Bourne used eskrima."

"Jason Bourne is a fictional character."

"It's Jason Bourne."

"You're such a fanboy."

"It's Jason Bourne."

"Also, he didn't just use eskrima. He incorporated other disciplines into his fighting style."

"Still. Jason Bourne."

"I don't think repeating his name does anything to argue your point."

"Jason. Bourne."

"Veronica," Meg said, humor all but curling her vowels. "I think he's going to just keep saying that until you give up."

"Jason Bourne," Conner said, nodding.

"You're ridiculous." Silence. Veronica could hear Lynn stifling a laugh. "Fine. Eskrima is as badass as Jason Bourne."

He smirked. "Thank you."

The paparazzi caught up with them as they were exiting the restaurant, but Veronica thought they'd gotten lucky going six hours with two Hollywood celebrities without getting mobbed, so she counted it a win nevertheless. They ran the gauntlet and piled into the limo, where Lynn offered to drop Conner off at a hotel, club or other destination of his choice.

"I think I'll go home," he said. "I've got a place in Laguna Beach, so it shouldn't be too far out of your way."

"No, I think it's right down our route," Lynn agreed before having him give the driver his address.

They chatted as the limo made its way down south to Laguna Beach, pulling up in front of a hilltop house made of steel and glass.

"It's been wonderful seeing you again, Conner," Lynn said as he said his goodbyes to the group.

He grinned. "Sure thing, Auntie Lynn."

She rolled her eyes and swatted as his arm with a laugh. "When will you stop calling me that?"

"Never." Turning to Meg and Veronica, he shot them a wide smile. "Ladies, it's been a pleasure. I hope to see you again sometime in the future. Even if it's only so you can beat my ego down and make me follow you around carrying your bags."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "You volunteered for it. Plus you took us to that store where we ended up paying my shirt-debt to Logan."

"Hearing how you incurred your 'shirt debt' was worth it."

"Still, you could've just spent the afternoon flirting with fan girls or something."

He shook his head. "This was better." He got out of the limo and saluted them. "Ladies. Auntie Lynnie. Drive safe!"

They waited in the limo while he let himself in through his gate, then the driver pulled away from the curb and headed toward Neptune.

"Why does he call you Auntie Lynn?" Veronica asked curiously.

"Oh, Conner started his career when he was around four or five. His first job was on the soap opera where I caught my big break, After Sundown. He played the son of my screen sister, who had died tragically in a coma from complications from a car accident after giving birth to him. I had to fight my cruel socialite mother for custody, at one point losing my memory after I survived an attack from an assassin who later became my lover."

The girls laugh at Lynn's tone of exaggerated disbelief. "So Conner and Logan are sort-of cousins?" Meg asked, giggling.

Lynn smiled. "I guess you could say that! Anyway, thank you for letting him come with us. He's a nice boy, but we don't really do lunch or dinner anymore as the tabloids go wild speculating about me being a cougar and unfaithful to Aaron when we go out alone."

Veronica could just imagine how that came across with Aaron, and she bit her lip to keep from saying anything. They were halfway back to Neptune when Lynn's phone rang. She frowned as she checked the caller ID.

"Is it all right if I take this? It's my publicist."

"Of course!"

Lynn answered the phone. After a quick chat with the publicist, she suddenly stilled and grew very, very pale. Eventually, she just said "I see" and then thanked the person on the other end of the line before hanging up and staring blankly in front of her.

Veronica frowned. "Are you all right, Mrs. Echolls?" The woman didn't respond, so Veronica reached over and placed her hand on the other woman's hand. "Mrs. Echolls?"

Her head snapped back and she looked at Veronica. "Oh, yes, sorry. I'm all right."

"What's happened?"

The actress just shook her head. "Nothing, just some nasty tabloid gossip about Aaron and that woman you met earlier. You know how it is."

Veronica didn't, not really, since Lianne's affair with Jake wasn't exactly public knowledge and probably would never be, but she nodded along anyway.

Meg smiled weakly at the older woman. "You know most of the stuff they report isn't true anyway."

Lynn's lips twisted bitterly. "Yes, but I also know my husband likes his women looking like they're half his age or younger."

Veronica glanced toward the front of the limo, glad to see that the privacy screen was up. "Can my dad or I help?" she asked in a low voice. "You know what my dad does."

Logan's mom smiled. "Advise CEOs and senators on matters of security?"

"Among other things. 'Marriage' security is another type of security he helps with. He likes to say, 'If your partner isn't cheating, you get peace of mind. If your partner is cheating, you get leverage in case you wanna do something about it.'"

"I know. Thank you, dear."

Veronica's brow furrowed. "Will you at least think about it? I know Logan worries about you." I know he takes Aaron's blows for you.

"He shouldn't."

No, he shouldn't. "Tell him that."

"I do. It doesn't seem to help much."

Veronica snorted. "So will you think about it? Dad'll do it pro bono, for friendship. You don't even have to use anything he finds. It'll just give you something to fall back on, knowing you have it."

"Ah—all right. I'll think about it. Thank you."

Veronica smiled. "It's nothing, Mrs. Echolls."

The rest of the ride south was fairly quiet. Veronica updated the Fab Four, reassuring Logan that his mom was doing all right but probably could use a hug when he got home. He thanked her for trying to talk her into getting Keith to help with Aaron's infidelities, but warned her it would probably come to nothing.

His resignation, so clear even through a few lines of text, broke her heart.

It always did.

When they got back to the Echolls estate, Lynn bid the two girls goodbye, saying they should do it again sometime soon, maybe this time shopping for Meg. They assured her they would, and Veronica tried not to notice that Logan's mom went straight in the direction of one of the rooms with a liquor cabinet the moment they started out the door.

Veronica and Meg walked silently to Veronica's car; she'd offered to take the other girl home tonight. When they both climbed into her SUV, Meg turned to her. "What was that about, offering her your dad's help?"

"You know my dad runs MIS, right?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Well, that I stands for investigations. As in private investigations. And one of their most profitable areas involves gathering material for wives and other domestic partners or dependents to use in a divorce, custody, or emancipation bid. Although my dad is always quick to say his reports don't show bias one way or the other, regardless of who hires him, and he always does the legally and morally responsible thing."

"What does that mean?"

Veronica pursed her lips, trying to think of an example. Fortunately, one came to mind. "All right. No names, but a high-profile businessman suspected his much younger wife of cheating on him, so he hired MIS to follow her around and get the money shot if there was one to be had."

"Money shot?"

"You know, a kiss, or something more incriminating, to show that the other party is cheating."

"Got it. So what happened?"

"The investigator did get the money shot and delivered it to the client, but he got a hinky feeling and followed his gut like my dad is always telling his investigators to. He parked outside the client's house and caught the whole confrontation on camera, including the way the client started hitting his wife."

"Oh my God. What did he do?"

"Called the cops and hopped the back gate to restrain the guy. Said later he'd forgotten to hand over some paperwork or whatnot and ended up driving by the client's place to drop it off when he heard the wife screaming and crying. The camera turned out to be a tiny spycam in his lapel pin that he'd forgotten to deactivate, or so he said."

"That's great, Veronica, really great."

"Mmhmm. Dad gave the guy a bonus and a commendation for his file, so I'm pretty sure he's golden whenever he's next up for promotion. And with those gut instincts, he's a shoo-in if he applies for the special investigations team."

"What's that?"

"Oh, it's the team that handles cases that have to do with domestic violence, child abuse or neglect, that sort of thing. I interned with them for three weeks this summer; it was pretty eye-opening." And it had given her a lot of ideas for helping Logan deal with his situation in a way that might be admissible in court.

"I didn't know there were whole teams of investigators that did that." Meg's eyes were wide, but there was a curious note to her voice Veronica mentally filed away.

She shrugged. "Dad lets them do a lot of pro-bono and pro-rated work, especially working with certain government offices like the welfare department and that sort of thing. They don't bring in as much cash as some of the other teams, but Dad says they make up for it in what he calls 'soul capital.'"

"That's amazing, Veronica." Meg paused. "Hey, do you think your dad would let me interview one of the guys from that department for my term paper for Government class? I want to try a new angle, I'm sure everyone else is gonna be doing the same boring stuff."

"Huh. Sure, I guess. I mean, I wouldn't think he'd have a problem with it. In fact, I can introduce you around sometime next week, if you like."

"You're a lifesaver, Veronica Mars!"

"Yeah, yeah. So everyone keeps saying. Monday or Tuesday, then?"

"Hmm. Maybe it'd be better for later in the week. I'm sure we'll be busy on Monday, at least."

"Huh? With what?"

Meg laughed at Veronica's confused expression. "Neptune High is gonna flip its lid when they get those paparazzi pics of us with Conner Larkin!"

"Oh. Right. Crap."

"Oh, yes. And when they find out we met Aaron Echolls too, that'll just add fuel to the fire."

Veronica frowned. "Why? He's Logan's dad. Most of us have met him at one point or another."

"But not in Hollywood! And not with Conner Larkin! Besides, a lot of girls think Mr. Echolls is really hot."

Veronica made a face and thought she might have puked in her mouth a little bit. "Why? That's so creepy. He's so old." Not to mention an abusive asshole.

Meg snorted. "I know, right? But you should hear Madison, Shelly, Caitlyn, and Kimmy talking about how hot Logan's dad is at lunchtime or before cheerleading practice."

"Pretty sure my brains would melt and exit through my ears if I had to listen to those four on a regular basis."

"Veronica, have I said how much I love this opinionated new you?"

"No, but do continue. In fact, go ahead and change the topic to anything that has nothing to do with Oscar-winning creepazoid Aaron Echolls or the skank squad who love him."

Meg's laughter lasted the rest of the way to her house.

When Veronica got home, she found her dad and a few of his Neptune cronies in the game room playing poker.

"Well I guess it's true what they say about what happens when the cat's away," she said, watching them from the doorway.

"Veronica!" All four men in the room turned to grin at her. She could tell that her dad and her godfather, Cliff McCormack, were neck and neck and Don and Bill were dangerously close to being down to their last chips.

She moved into the room to kiss her dad on the cheek. "How was shopping with Lynn?"

"Good. My credit card got a lot of exercise today."

He laughed. "That's what it's there for, honey."

Bill let out a shudder. "Please don't have a conversation like that when in the presence of my wife and daughters. It gives me chills to think of how much they would buy. A whole day's worth of shopping in LA is the kiss of death to a small-town fire chief's credit rating."

"Not to mention how your girls would react if they found out Veronica had dinner with Conner Larkin," Keith said smugly.

Don frowned. "Conner Larkin? What were you doing with him?"

"He's a friend of Mrs. Echolls', and he took all of us to dinner, but I think he just wanted an excuse to hang out with her. Apparently they go way back. How did you even know about it, father of mine?"

"A little birdie told me."

Cliff let out a deep chuckle. "The little birdie's name is Inga, because you know how much she loves the gossip channels. Apparently you were photographed and she recognized you."

Don's frown deepened. "Why does Inga tell you these things before she tells me?" he whined.

"Maybe if you chatted her up more?" Veronica suggested. "Or maybe if you brought her coffee and pastries sometimes. You know, asked about her dogs, her knitting, that kind of thing."

"Forget it. If I ask about her dog, she'll try to foist a puppy on me the next time it has a litter. If I ask about her knitting, she might take it to mean I actually want one of those god-awful sweaters she makes."

"The one she made me is pretty comfy," Veronica said. "Even if it was very, very pink."

"Count yourself fortunate," Keith told her. "The one she made me had stripes of puce and this distinct shade of yellow—"

"Like your pee after you've ODed on vitamin C," Don agreed, grimacing. "She used the same color on mine that one Christmas, but with red stripes instead. I looked like I was auditioning to be Ronald McDonald."

The men broke out into chuckles.

"You want in, sweetie?" Bill asked, gesturing to the table in front of him.

"Oh dear god, do not invite Veronica to join. I'm actually winning for once."

"Cliffie, you're so mean," Veronica said in her best "Amber" voice, scrunching her face into her cutest pout. "At least Bill offered."

"Veronica, I'm not mean, I just have a healthy sense of self-preservation. You're a fucking shark."

"Hey," Keith said mildly. "No swearing at my daughter."

"Thanks, guys, but I'll sit this one out. I may yet have to go out and rescue Logan Echolls from strangling someone."

"Always good to prevent murder when you can," the Balboa county sheriff observed, eyeing his cards and his small stack of chips.

"If it's Troy Vandegraff, I think your Uncle Cliff here can get him off with justifiable homicide," Keith added.

"What's this now?" Cliff was frowning.

"I'll leave you guys to it," she said, smiling. "Dad can fill you in. By the way, will you be in tomorrow, Donny?"

"I dunno, Ms. Mars, will I have reason to be?"

"Possibly, possibly."

Keith raised an eyebrow. "Make that a 'probably,' Don."

The sheriff sighed. "Fine, Mars. But not before nine. I know you're one of those freaks who gets up with the sun even on a weekend, but there are limits to how far I'm willing to bend for you."

"Sure, Donny. In fact, why don't I go over to your place and you can decide if it's worth leaving home for?"

He flicked a suspicious look her way and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Will there be doughnuts?"

"Yup! Who do you take me for?"

"And does this have anything to do with certain birds in a bush you mentioned before?"

"Yep." She popped the P.

"Fine. But coffee and doughnuts are a requirement."

"Got it."

Cliff and Bill were watching the exchange with identical expressions of bemusement. "What's that all about?" Bill asked.

Cliff turned to Keith. "If my capacities as a lawyer should be required, you'll call me."

"Absolutely," Keith said. "You know I have you on speed dial and I made you her godfather for this very reason."

Don turned to his former mentor. "You don't want to know what this is about?"

"Nope." Keith popped the P just as his daughter had. "Veronica knows to call me in before she can get in over her head. Anything she can and wants to handle on her own, I'd rather not know about."

"Why not?" Bill was obviously baffled. But then again, the fire chief was notoriously protective of his daughters.

"Plausible deniability," Veronica and Keith said together. Veronica laughed. "See you in the morning, Pop!"

"Drive safely, sugarplum!"

As she left the room she heard Don say, "I swear I'm gonna turn gray or go bald prematurely and that girl will be the reason for it."

Her father replied, "Plausible deniability, Donnyboy. It's what's saved what little I have left of my hair."

"You're practically bald!"

"Yes, but 'practically' is not 'completely.'"

She smirked all the way up to her room.

She showered and changed and then settled at her desk to check her emails. Just then, her phone pinged.

Rescue me, please. Troy has bitched about you all day and even my vaunted self-control is starting to fray. Logan, of course.

Down, boy.

They exchanged text updates. Upon learning they weren't set to leave Tijuana until at least midnight, she decided to take a nap, setting her alarm for 2 AM. He wished her happy dreams, and she was out like a light in the next instant.

When she woke up, she texted him to ask where they were.

Remind me never to visit Tijuana without a Ready Lane Pass. We've been stuck in the regular queue at the border crossing for an hour.

She didn't even have time to reply before another message came in.

Luke's about to jump out of his skin. He could use some tips on lying. Or at least looking less guilty.

She laughed, picturing the other boy's face. I can imagine. Is it his puppy-peed-on-the-rug look?

Yeah. You listening in?

She put on her earphones, pulled up the feed from the bug she'd planted in Troy's car, and started listening. Now I am.

"Logan, I swear to god, if you hurl on the leather, you're paying for it to be detailed cause my dad will flip."

She could hear Logan dry-heaving in the background. You okay? she texted. She couldn't make out if he was acting or actually drunk.

I may have turned to liquid therapy. But I'm not as bad as I sound.

"Who are you texting anyway?"

"DK wants to know what he missed."

"Tell him nothing but Luke buying that lame-ass piñata and you getting lovesick over Veronica freaking Mars—let me tell you, that's not an ass you're tapping anytime soon. Bitch is frigid."

"Watch it." There was venom in Logan's tone. Veronica was tempted to remind him to tone it down, but she sighed and just kept listening.

"I know, I know, I'm not allowed to badmouth Little Miss Perfect."

"Well, Veronica's pretty badass. She does martial arts, you know? Some of the guys mentioned it. Plus she's taking cases just like her dad. She helped some chick find her dog just last week. And I hear she was the secret informant on that dognapping ring the cops busted." That was Luke. Veronica was surprised he was so dialed into the goings on at Neptune High. She'd felt sorry for a classmate and helped her find her dog, which had turned out to have been dognapped by some of the guys who worked at the pound.

"I get it. She's a regular Nancy Drew. So what?"

"Just saying you don't wanna be on that girl's bad side, man," Luke said. "Especially since she's back to being friends with Logan and Lilly."

"Heard," Logan muttered, then continued to dry heave.

"Dude, get a hold of yourself. Don't be such a fucking lightweight."

"To be fair, he drank more than either of us did."

"Fuck fair. He just better not puke in my dad's car."

Veronica could make out muffled sounds from the outside.

"No, no thank you," Troy could be heard saying. Vendors, maybe?

"These border checkpoints, man, they always freak me out." Luke sounded really, really nervous. And well he should be.

"Maybe you shouldn't volunteer for the full cavity search." Veronica rolled her eyes. Of course Logan would snark even when drunk.

"Morning." The greeting was terse, official-sounding. They must have reached the checkpoint.

"Morning, sir," Troy said, all chipper and innocent.

"You, uh, fellas have a good time in Mexico?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wanna go ahead and hand over your contraband?" Veronica chuckled at the officer's attitude as the silence in the car grew tense. "It works sometimes. Pop the trunk."

Luke sighed loudly enough to be picked up by the bug when the officer checked the trunk then presumably waved them through.

After a while, Troy asked, "Anybody else hungry?"

"Sure," Luke said. "And Logan could probably use a break."

"Yeah." The disgust was plain in Troy's voice. "I know a diner not too far from here."

Miles away, Veronica smiled. Gotcha, she thought.

After that, things moved pretty quickly, at least on Veronica's end. The boys went into the diner for some late-night chow, and not long after, Weevil texted that the package and the car were in his possession. He confirmed that the piñata in the backseat contained no steroids and was instead filled with candies. He asked if Veronica wanted it, because if she didn't, one of the guys at his uncle's shop wanted it for his daughter's birthday party.

Tell him to take it, and happy birthday to his kid, she texted him. Your uncle have a problem with taking the car?

You kidding? It's a BMW 740i. He'll make big bucks from parts, your boy Troy's looking to downgrade to something 'nondescript.'

She took that to mean the car would be a medium-range sedan far below the value of the Beemer. She made a note to cover for Weevil if Lamb asked where Troy's father's car had gone. She trusted they knew their business enough to deactivate the Beacon system, or at least toss the device someplace far, far away.

Shortly after that, her phone rang. It was Logan.

"Ah, hey, Ronnie, did I wake you?" She could tell from the ambient noise he had her on speaker phone.

"Logan? It's… what? Four in the morning?" she grumbled with faux crankiness, hoping she sounded properly sleepy.

"Just about."

"What do you think, Echolls?"

"Listen, I need a favor."

"What could you possibly need from me at 4AM? Aren't you in Mexico or something?"

"Yeah… About that. We decided to head back tonight and ran into some trouble. We stopped at a diner and when we came out, Troy's car had been stolen."

"What?"

"You heard me. So can you come pick us up? I'd rather not call DK. You know how Celeste gets."

"Fine. But you'll owe me one, Echolls."

"You know I'm good for it."

She got the details from him (as if she didn't know them already), then dressed and headed out. She made good time on the highway and rolled into the parking lot where the three boys were sitting on the curb.

She stopped her car in front of them and rolled down her window. "Dude! Where's your car?" Troy scowled at her, and she bared her teeth at him before obviously faking a guileless look. "Too soon?"

"Thanks for coming to get us, Veronica," Logan said, smiling tiredly.

"Your monkeys are gonna have to ride in the back."

Logan gestured for them to climb into the back seat before getting into the front passenger seat himself. She passed him one of the Gatorade bottles she'd brought with her, and he took it gratefully.

Troy got in behind him, really doing up the doom and gloom. She would've fallen for it if the Fab Four weren't better actors than he was. Or, well, if Lilly, Logan and she weren't better actors than she was; Duncan was admittedly kind of crappy at disguising one emotion for another.

Finally Luke climbed in behind Veronica. "Thanks for picking us up, Veronica."

"Yeah, well. You're lucky I'm such a nice person."

Troy snorted at that, making Logan turn in his seat to glare at him. "What the hell is your problem, man?"

"A nice person wouldn't make fun of a guy whose life is on the line," Troy said after a moment. He'd obviously had to choke down harsher words after remembering whose car he was sitting in.

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Oh please. Ride a bike or something. It won't kill you, and it's good for the environment."

"I don't know. Outdoor activities might actually kill me, in Albuquerque."

She feigned a look of confusion. "Huh?"

"My dad is going to send me away, he's going to track me down and he's going to kill me. He's out of town right now and thinks the car is still safely tucked in the garage."

"If the cops find it before he gets home, you can always run with the no-harm-no-foul approach?"

"That assumes the cops would even be looking for it. It's-it's probably on a cargo ship to Jamaica right now, anyway."

She fought the urge to smirk and schooled her face into an expression that hopefully conveyed curiosity. "Why wouldn't the cops be looking for it?"

"Like I said, my dad doesn't even know it's gone. If I report the car stolen, the first thing the cops will do is contact him about it. So going to the cops is out of the question. And without a police report, I can't get the anti-theft homing device activated."

"He's gonna have to come home sometime, though. Might as well get it over with while there's a chance the car can be recovered. Leave it too long, and you might find pieces of it, if that."

"Then I might as well roll over and prepare to die—or rather get sent to Catholic school in Albuquerque like he's been threatening."

Logan started to snort but managed to turn it into a cough. "Harsh, man."

"Tell me about it."

Veronica might have believed his woebegone tone and expression if she hadn't heard him plotting to ride into the sunset with a bag of steroids and his girlfriend Shauna not too long ago. She looked over at Luke via the rear view mirror. The poor guy was pasty white; he looked like he was about to hyperventilate or something. It solidified her anger against Troy, not that she agreed with Luke's drug running, but she'd found out a thing or two about Hank Zigman and his methods of persuasion, so she had a modicum of sympathy for the boy.

She'd initially planned to just bring Lamb into it when Troy made his getaway then pay Zigman back his "investment"—as well as pay him a visit to make sure he laid off Luke—before sending his mug shot to border patrol, but now she decided she wanted Troy to suffer a little.

"You know," she said slowly, "there are ways to find a stolen vehicle without going through the police. Hypothetically speaking."

She watched Luke snap out of the daze he was in, saw Troy narrow his eyes at her. Three, two, one.

"So, Veronica," Luke said. "Hypothetically speaking, what would you do to find Troy's car?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Ah, tricks of the trade, my friend. There are some databases you can access to track stolen goods—I learned to work some of them interning at my dad's company. A little finagling and wheel-greasing might convince the Beacon folks to turn on the GPS on the car if Troy can find his dad's paperwork citing the Beemer's VIN number. That sort of thing."

"Is this a rescue or is this you holding us captive so you can advertise that little PI business you've got going on?" Logan asked with faux annoyance, his hand over his eyes as if he were hungover. Actually, it was possible he was hungover, if not quite as badly as he was acting. He and Lilly both had a tendency to overindulge when she and Duncan weren't around to rein them in.

"Why can't it be both?"

Luke turned to Troy. "Dude, I have an idea."

The other boy failed to look suitably grateful. "Does it involve a time machine?"

"No, but you could totally ask Veronica for help finding your car. Maybe you can get it back before your dad even finds out what happened to it."

She watched the annoyance flash over Troy's face, then the realization that he would have to appear to grasp at straws, any straws, to really sell people on the idea he was upset about the situation. "You could pay me to look for it, but recovery is never a guarantee, especially with grand theft auto."

"Still, it wouldn't hurt to try. I mean, what do you have to lose?" Luke was drenched in the desperation Troy struggled to convey. Veronica was tempted to roll her eyes at how bad both boys were at acting.

"I appreciate the suggestion, but I think this is even beyond Detective Mars's super powers."

Oh, well, now. She couldn't let a comment like that pass. "You don't know half of the tricks I've got tucked into my utility belt. Besides, haven't you heard? I've got friends in low places."

Logan apparently had decided to put in his two cents' worth. "Just try it, man. Not like you've got a bevy of alternatives here."

Finally, Troy gave in. "Will you do it?"

She shrugged. "I guess I could take a shot at it. I'll do a few searches on my dad's system, make a few phone calls, and see where we can go from there. It's a Sunday, so the earliest we could go to the local Beacon office is tomorrow."

"What's it going to cost me?"

"I suppose I could give you the friend-of-a-friend rate. Five hundred, payable in cash, cashier's cheque or a pre-agreed upon exchange of goods or services."

"Aww, we're not friends?"

She bared her teeth at him, much like a shark might. "What do you think?"

"I'm wounded, I tell you. Wounded!"

"Wounded enough to pack your bags instead of asking me to give it a go?"

He let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine. I need help, Detective Mars."

She nodded. "You do, actually." In more ways than one. She watched Luke breathe a sigh of relief, and she figured he would be approaching her at school on Monday, if not sooner.

"Now that that's settled, can you guys shut up so I can sleep the rest of the way to Neptune?"

"Go right ahead, Logan." She fiddled with the radio, put on some easy listening music and hummed along as she drove, ignoring the boys behind her and casting occasional fond glances at the one beside her. Who had definitely indulged because she could tell he actually had fallen asleep.

Sunday morning traffic meant they made good time, but it was already bright out by the time they got to Neptune. She dropped Troy off first, stopping the car across the street from the wide gates of the 09er McMansion she knew his family was renting.

He climbed out. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. Don't forget to text me the details of the Beemer: model, license number, VIN. Plus anything you can remember like what time you last saw the car and whether there was anything unusual about the place you parked it. If you saw anyone nearby."

"Got it." He paused, gave her a shit-eating grin. "Since I'm your client, does this mean you're gonna play nice now?"

"Walk in front of the car, we'll see."

Behind her, Luke let out a laugh. She was glad to see he'd chilled out a little. As Troy crossed in front of her SUV, she revved the engine. When he gave her the finger, she smiled to herself and eased up on the brakes then slammed her foot back down on them after just enough time to let the vehicle jerk forward a couple inches, making Troy jump, let out a yelp, and then curse a blue streak.

Logan moaned, having been woken up by the movement of the car, just in time to hear Troy yell, "Logan, man, your girlfriend's a psycho!"

"She's not my girlfriend," he grumbled back. She thought she was probably the only person who heard the unspoken yet tacked to the end of it.

She barely waited for Troy to get clear before pulling back out onto the road. A few minutes later, they were at Luke's house. But the other boy stayed in the car. She frowned.

"This is your stop, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but…" He looked at the house and then at her and Logan. "Hey, Logan, can I stay in your guest house? I just don't want to wake my parents up this early."

"No can do, dude. Apparently there was some news about my dad and his latest floozy that broke last night. M'house is bound to be surrounded by paps. I was gonna ask Veronica to drop me off at DK's."

"My pleasure," she said. "Guess I might as well bunk in with Lilly and catch some Zs if that's the plan."

"Can I come with?" Luke practically begged.

She shrugged. "You'd better ask Duncan. It's not like Logan or I live there."

"I'm texting him now." He started tapping furiously at the keypad of his phone.

"I'll give you 10 minutes. If he doesn't say yes by then, you're getting out of my car."

"Deal." Finally he flipped the top closed, smiled at her. He was really kind of a puppy dog, if you forgot the whole drug trafficker thing. "Have I told you yet that I'm really glad you guys are all friends again? It was super stressful when you guys were doing the whole Cold War thing."

Logan smirked. "I'm pretty sure a Cold War would've meant non-engagement. Madison got a bong planted in my locker, I got accused of drug possession, and Lilly got dye-bombed. Seemed like all-out warfare to me."

"Please, the drug charges were not on me. I would never be so plebeian. And while I will neither confirm nor deny the others, I'll at least laud their creativity. Just be glad you and Lilly saw the error of your ways," Veronica said.

"Oh I am," Logan assured her. "And I will forever treasure the image of Lilly Kane looking like something someone drew at kindergarten art class."

They both started snickering. Luke smiled. "Yeah, that was a pretty epic prank, Veronica."

She raised her hands. "I plead the fifth."

"Like anyone else would've had a hope in hell of pulling that off," Logan said.

"Six months ago, I would never have believed it of Veronica," Luke admitted.

"Six months ago, I didn't think it would be worth churning up the waters," Veronica said, feeding him the "company" line. "Then I decided I was just as much at fault if I did nothing and just let my best friends act like jackasses."

"Well, I like the new you," Luke said.

"I liked the old you too, but the new you is definitely more my speed." There was an intensity in Logan's voice that had her frowning at him in warning, even though she had to fight the urge to blush.

She was spared having to answer by the bleeping of Luke's phone. He snapped it open. "Duncan says I can come over!"

She started the car. "Well then, let's get this show on the road. I gotta go pay off my sleep debt, thanks to you suckers."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A bit of a weightier, if talkier, chapter here. And, hey, I posted on time for once! Thanks as ever to the awesomeness that is Irma66 for beta reading!