CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Last night she'd explained it to Logan- Five trips to the bathroom, one for each kilo of cocaine. Flush the product, stash the duct tape inside a toilet paper roll, then rinse off the plastic wrap and hide it in plain sight with the food garbage. But this morning, Veronica was still puzzling out the why. If they were only going to destroy the coke, why not leave it be, and just steal the cash? Maybe they thought—
"Me eat?" Wyatt asked, banging her feet against the chair, and pointing at the frying pan.
"Sorry, sweet pea." Veronica quickly finished buttering the toast, and cut off the crusts before carrying it to the table along with Wyatt's scrambled eggs. "Do you want more melon?"
"B'own milk."
Not really an answer to the question, but okay. Veronica fixed her a sippy cup of chocolate milk, then added more cantaloupe chunks to her pink, daisy-shaped bowl. She gently stroked Wyatt's hair, pushing it off her forehead. "Maybe when you're done eating, we can snuggle on the sofa to watch Peppa?" And you can go back to sleep.
"Fancy party!" Wyatt shoved a fist of melon into her mouth, and with her other hand dipped eggs in ketchup. Her feet continued to beat a steady rhythm on the booster seat while she ate. Despite the time—two hours earlier than her usual breakfast—Wyatt didn't show any sign of still being tired. Jake was NOT kidding when he'd said she contained enough energy to power a submarine.
Yawning, Veronica rested her head on the table and closed her eyes. It was still dark outside, and she hadn't been to bed yet. She'd made it home from the club fifteen minutes before Logan, but she'd stupidly decided to read an email from Mac, which is why HE was sleeping, and SHE was feeding a wide-awake Wyatt.
"Mama eat?"
Veronica pried open her eyes and smiled at the squished, dripping piece of melon Wyatt was trying to share. It was easier to take the proffered piece of cantaloupe than to explain she wasn't hungry. She chewed and swallowed and stared at the Keurig. Not hungry, but a jolt of caffeine sounded good.
She brewed a cup, splashed in a decent amount of cream, spooned sugar into the mug, and then took a long, slow sip.
Maybe the thief thought stealing both the cash and coke was a good cover? If they'd left the coke untouched, it would look like Sam or one of his men had robbed the dealers, but stealing from both sides of the table increased the suspect pool and diverted attention.
Veronica smiled at Wyatt. "More melon?"
She frowned at her empty daisy bowl, head tilted in contemplation. "Cheese?"
Veronica was beginning to have a good idea of why it required several plates for Logan to feed their child. She glanced at the uneaten toast and neglected eggs as Wyatt dunked her hand in ketchup and started to lick her fingers. "Swiss or cheddar?"
"Yes," Wyatt answered, nodding her head.
Veronica took both from the fridge, along with a ham steak, and cut everything into cubes. To discourage the ketchup-as-food idea, she put hummus on yet another plate, and garnished it with slices of sweet bell pepper. Balancing the multiple dishes, she carried it all to the table, and was rewarded with a wide grin from Wyatt. "Fank you."
"You're welcome, sweet pea." Veronica reclaimed her seat, picked up her mug. "What are you going to do with Nana Dot today?"
The question was enough to unleash Wyatt's chatty gene, and she started listing all her favorite things to do, concluding with "-mud pies."
Veronica's eye twitched. Creating mud pies was a Logan idea. He'd introduced the activity to Wyatt over the summer, and it quickly reached number one on her hit parade. Shocker. It ticked all her boxes - alone time with Logan, water, getting dirty, and making a mess. For days the lawn was a boggy swampland, and it took forever to get the mud out from beneath Wyatt's finger-and toe-nails. "I don't know, Wy… Daddy might be sad if you make those without him."
Her tiny face scrunched as she considered the dilemma, then she nodded and grinned. "Daddy too."
And, knowing Logan, if Wyatt smiled at him like that, he'd be unable to refuse. Which might not be a bad thing (except for the grass), because it would keep him homebound instead of trying to play detective, and Veronica had a stop she needed to make solo.
She glanced at the clock, calculating how long it would be before another adult woke up, and how many hours she'd be able to sleep. Might not be worth it. Maybe if she finished her to-do list, she'd have time to nap later before going into Shenanigans. Deciding she could fuel her morning with caffeine and vengeance, she brewed another cup of coffee, using Logan's extra-dark roast.
Tapping the spacebar on her laptop, she woke up the computer and went to Google. How much coke will get you busted for intent to distribute? Veronica read the first search result. More than reasonable for personal use. Hmm. Sentencing could be up to four years in state prison and a twenty-thousand dollar fine. "That'll do, pig."
"Babe!" Wyatt clapped, smooshing hummus between her hands.
Veronica's head jerked up to glance at her. "You're too little to understand pop-culture references, kid." Wyatt shrugged, and squeezed her hands into fists to watch the hummus ooze through her fingers. Veronica frowned. "Are you done eating?"
"No, Mama." She swiped her tongue across her palm, then picked up a piece of cheese, and took a big, showy bite.
"Maybe acting is in your blood."
"Wow, not only are you cranky when you're tired, you're also delusional." Logan leaned over her shoulder to peer into her cup. "Unless you're drinking something stronger than coffee?"
She frowned at him. "Why are you awake?"
"Because you didn't come to bed." He inclined his head toward Wyatt, who was gobbling down a slice of bell pepper. "Of course now I see why. You're up early, Jellybean."
"Hunee." She held out a cube of Swiss, making it unclear whether she was telling him why she woke early, or asking if Logan was hungry. He snagged the cheese with his teeth, then pretended to eat her fingers, causing her to giggle and snort.
Logan smiled. "I can stay up with her, if you want?"
For a beat, Veronica considered the offer, then shook her head. "Go back to sleep. We're going to watch Peppa when she's done."
The mere mention of Peppa was enough to make 'permanently-traumatized-by-a-cartoon-pig' Logan, retreat. He kissed the top of Wyatt's head, then gave Veronica a quick peck on the lips, before backing from the kitchen with a salute.
Veronica watched him go, then turned back to her computer. She accessed her Accurint account, typed in the name Casey Gant, and hit enter. The search yielded five separate addresses. One was for Gant Publishing, three were scattered across the country in places like Martha's Vineyard and Manhattan, and the last was right here in Neptune. She put the address in her phone, closed the search engine, then sent a text to Weevil with a request.
"More?" Wyatt held out her plate Oliver-Twist style.
"Sure, sweet pea." A quick scan of the table said she was out of cheese, fruit, and peppers. Veronica refilled all three. "Are you having a growth spurt?" She tickled Wyatt's side. "Working to get tall like Daddy?"
With an exaggerated nod, Wyatt chomped on a cheddar wedge.
Veronica sat and took a sip of coffee, then helped herself to Wyatt's eggs. They were cold with too much ketchup, but it was better than nothing. She stole the side of toast. "Should we go see the seals tomorrow?"
It was her Saturday with Wyatt, and the Children's Pool was always a big hit. They could walk along the sea wall, watch the sunbathing pups, then meet Logan for lunch at Bubba's Smokehouse.
"Yesss," Wy replied around a mouthful of cheese and hummus. "Tea lions."
Her daughter was excited by the idea of marine mammals, while Veronica was thinking about the food afterwards- pulled pork, ribs, and brisket. Were there any barbecue joints on her way to Weevil's? Apparently, yesterday's visit to Becker's Catering had ignited a craving that needed satisfying.
Becker's…
Putting down her mug, she stood, and went to retrieve the pan carrier from the hall-tree bench. The insulated, hard-resin container was designed to hold up to five food trays, and was very solid. Veronica lugged it to the kitchen table.
There were no obvious hiding places inside. She frowned at the nearly seamless interior. If someone wanted to use the carrier to smuggle the stolen money from the party, they would've needed prior access. And, even then, Veronica wasn't sure it would work. The bottom and sides were definitely thick enough to stash the cash, but there was no way to cut them open without leaving visible damage.
She sighed. The caterer theory was dead in the water, but the basic premise was still valid. She just needed to figure out the 'what' and she'd have the 'who'.
"Done, Mama," Wyatt said, tugging on the strap to her booster chair, and spreading hummus all over her pajamas. "Peppa now?"
"You bet." Veronica got a washcloth from the sink to clean Wyatt's hands, face, and shirt, then freed her from the seat. Wyatt disappeared into the living room at a speed slightly slower than light, and had the DVD out of the case before Veronica crossed the threshold. She scooped the box off the floor. Twelve episodes. She scanned the titles for the least annoying, gave up at the fourth episode. "Want to watch Ballet Lesson?"
Wyatt shook her head. "Fancy party."
Veronica's eye twitched again, but she slipped the disc into the player. At least it was only a five-minute show and not a feature-length film. She shuddered. Please don't ever let them make a Peppa movie.
"Cozy," Wyatt instructed, climbing onto the sofa, and Veronica smiled. She'd watch all twelve episodes for cozy-time with her daughter.
Before lying down, Veronica grabbed the remote and pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa. She waited for Wyatt to snuggle against her, then wrapped them both in the navy fleece and pushed play.
As Peppa's friends arrived in their costumes, Veronica closed her eyes… and didn't reopen them until she felt Wyatt patting her cheek. "Play 'gain?"
Veronica blinked. The end credits were scrolling across the screen. She must have fallen asleep-a quick glance at the clock-over an hour ago. Shit. Shaking her head in answer to Wyatt's question, she sat up. "I think a gazillion episodes of Peppa is enough TV for today."
The answering pout was instantaneous.
Before she could resort to a toddler tantrum, Veronica distracted. "Let's go wake up Partner." And, fingers-crossed, Grandpa and Nana Dot too. "We can take him outside."
"Me walk Pardner." Wyatt slid off the sofa. "No run stairs, boo-boos," she whispered the reminder to herself as she marched toward the guest room. When she banged her palm on the door in lieu of a knock, Veronica almost considered stopping her, then changed her mind. Wyatt twisted the knob, and flung open the door. "M'up, Pardner, we go walk."
On cue, the dog started barking and raced from the room accompanied by a loud groan from Keith and a soft, "I'll go let him out," from Dottie.
Veronica smiled. Other adults were now officially awake. She took her time unlocking the French door to the yard, and patted her thigh to summon Partner. The dog bounded over with Wyatt on his heels. "You two can play in the yard." She kept her voice low, hoping Dottie wouldn't hear and decide to go back to bed.
By the time Dot stumbled from the guest room, Wyatt and Partner were through the door, across the deck, and halfway down the steps to the lawn. Dot spotted Veronica and stopped walking. "I didn't realize you were awake," she said, tightening the belt on her robe.
"I was dozing on the couch while Wyatt watched Peppa." The half-truth was a ready-made excuse for not stopping Wyatt from waking them. "Do you mind watching her while I go shower? She's already had breakfast." Veronica started toward the hall. "I have a few errands I need to run this morning."
Dottie didn't agree to babysitting detail, but she also didn't protest, and Veronica used the silence to make a hasty exit, rushing down the hall to the master bedroom. She opened the door with deliberate slowness to avoid waking Logan, who was sprawled on his back, taking up most of the California King. Clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs, he made an enticing invitation. Veronica was tempted to crawl into bed and curl up next to him. But she resisted.
Time was tight. She needed to stop at the store before meeting Weevil. Stores. Luckily there was a Walmart, Rite Aid, and Dollar Tree all in the same three-block radius. No one-stop shopping for her, but the boric acid, baby laxatives, plastic wrap, and small Ziploc bags were all necessary.
She hurried through a shower, twisted her wet hair into a hasty bun, and tossed her towels in the hamper. Naked, she exited the bathroom. The breeze from the ceiling fan cooled her heated flesh, and goosebumps puckered her skin. She shivered and grabbed clothes from the dresser, quickly donning a bra, underwear, and socks.
"Are you coming to bed?" Logan asked the question without opening his eyes.
Veronica pulled on a soft cashmere turtleneck. "No" —she gave him a quick kiss— "I'm going to talk to the girls who quit Shenanigans."
He pried open one eye. "What about sleep?"
"I'll nap later." She leaned in for another fast kiss, but found herself lingering as Logan caressed her cheek and parted her lips with his tongue. He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her down onto the mattress. Veronica sunk her fingers in his hair and tugged, wrenching their mouths apart. "Logan, I have—"
"To stay here with me." He reclaimed her mouth, and Veronica surrendered, molding her body to his. Making out with Logan was definitely a better way to spend her morning than doing chores. His hand skimmed over her hip, slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, and smoothed its way up her spine. When he reached her bra, his fingers stilled. "Wyatt?"
"With Dot." Veronica toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. "But I've got things to do." It was a mild protest neither of them took seriously.
"Mmm-hmm," he murmured against her skin. "I certainly don't want to keep you from your very important things." His fingers stroked her belly, pushing her sweater higher.
"Good." Veronica yanked the turtleneck the rest of the way off and tossed it on the floor. "Because I'm very busy."
"I know." Logan unsnapped her bra and slid the straps down her arms. "Suspects to question." His tongue flicked over her nipple. "Bad guys to catch." He gently nipped the tight bud, then sucked it into his mouth to soothe the sting.
A ripple of pleasure shot through her, arching her hips off the bed. "Yet you're wasting time with all this chatter, when you should just get to it."
Logan lifted his head. "Anyone ever accuse you of being bossy?"
"Not today."
He smiled as he brought their lips together in a kiss. At first tender, it quickly escalated into a need so raw it left them both gasping for air.
Veronica blinked. "Wow."
"That's an understatement." Framing her face in his palms, he kissed her nose, and rolled her onto her back. "I love you, Veronica." He hooked his thumbs in the waist of her bikini briefs, tugged them over her hips and slowly down her legs. His mouth and tongue followed in their wake, nibbling and tasting the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.
"Logan." It was an impatient plea.
And he readily complied, burying his face between her parted legs. His tongue teased her clit with languid, lazy strokes and then slipped inside to taste her. Veronica moaned as his fingers joined his mouth, working in concert to bring her to the edge. She braced her feet on his shoulders, and buried her hands in his hair, pressing him closer.
Her breath quickened into short, shallow pants, and her heartbeat pounded in her ears as he sucked her clit into his mouth, and slid his long fingers in and out of her in a steady rhythm, curling and stroking her core.
He knew exactly how to touch her. The right pressure. The precise spot. Their years together had perfected this dance. But it always felt different. Exciting. He could turn her on with a look. With dirty words whispered in her ear. A gentle caress. And he always made sure she was satisfied, like his pleasure was dependent on hers.
Toes curling, Veronica's body convulsed, her orgasm ripping through her in hard waves. Logan drew it out, circling her clit with his thumb and watching her come. "Beautiful," he whispered, kissing her belly.
Veronica fell back against the mattress. "If that's the preview, I can't wait for the main event."
"Aren't you glad you didn't rush off?" He pushed her knee up to her chest, making room for his hips, and settled himself on top of her. Brushing the hair back from her face, he kissed her forehead, and reached for his nightstand.
Her eyes followed his movements, watching as he pulled a condom from the drawer. "Very glad I stayed. Getting off is infinitely better than rushing off." She trailed her fingers along the length of his arm to his hand and plucked the condom from his grip. "We don't need that," she said, letting it fall to the carpet.
Logan arched an eyebrow.
Instead of answering his silent question, she cupped his face with her palm and kissed him. With her other hand, she reached between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock, gently guiding the tip inside her sex. Logan growled into her mouth, and with one swift thrust he buried himself deep, making Veronica gasp.
He smoothed his hands up her arms, laced their fingers together, and pinned her arms above her head as he withdrew and then slammed back inside. Veronica balanced the heel of her foot on his shoulder, and rocked against him, taking him deeper.
"Fuck," Logan hissed, letting go of her hands to grip her hips.
Free to touch him, she explored the hard contours of his chest; brushed down his arms, enjoying the play of muscles beneath her fingers as his biceps bunched and flexed. Logan lifted her other leg onto his shoulder, raising her ass from the mattress, and tilting her forward before pounding into her.
"Ooh," Veronica moaned, digging her nails into his arms as he thrust into her over and over, the head of his cock hitting her g-spot. Closing her eyes, she tossed her head back as the tension coiled in her belly. She was going to come again. "Don't stop."
"Bossy," he grunted as he continued to pummel her. "Come for me."
So close. Her legs went rigid, hips bucking against him as her orgasm hit, hard and fast. Logan chased his own pleasure, pounding her into the mattress, his thrusts wild and erratic. He bit her shoulder as he came, and collapsed on top of her.
Veronica curled around him, holding him close, savoring the feel of his weight pressing against her. Their ragged breathing slowed. Logan nuzzled her neck and kissed behind her ear, then rolled onto his back, taking her with him. "I love you, Veronica."
She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I love you, too."
A kiss landed in her hair. "Want to tell me why—"
"I have to leave the house instead of staying right here with you?" she interrupted, kissing his shoulder and rolling away. She ignored his troubled look, and clambered from the bed. "Mac was only able to find one of the girls who left the club; she's got an apartment in Mission Hills." Veronica scooped her discarded turtleneck and bra from the floor. "Then I'm going to pay Casey Gant a visit- see if he can tell me why his father helped push the zoning variance for Shenanigans."
"I'll get dressed and come with you." He sat up, swung his legs off the mattress. "We can talk in the car."
"Can't." She carried her clothes into the bathroom, and left the door open so she could hear him while she got ready. "Wyatt is planning on making mud pies with you today, and Dot needs to leave. She still has to help Nick find a new apartment."
To drown out his reply, Veronica turned on the water, and used the handheld showerhead to rinse off. But her reprieve was short-lived; she exited the shower to find Logan leaning in the doorway. "I'll stay here with the girls, but call me when you're done. I'll meet you at the Holiday Inn."
"Ready for another round? A little afternoon delight?" Turning her back on his pleading, talk-to-me face, she dried, then rehung the towel on the heated rack. "It's probably going to take me all day, so… raincheck?"
His somber eyes followed her movements as she got dressed. "Are you coming home in between your day of sleuthing and your evening of stripping?"
"And miss dinner? It's like you don't know me at all." She buttoned her jeans, flipped the toilet seat closed, and sat down to put on her boots. "If you don't want to cook, I can bring something home. Maybe even something healthy-ish?"
"The ultimate sacrifice- healthy food." With his shoulder, he pushed off the doorframe and met her in the center of the room. "You must really love me."
Veronica tilted her head and smiled. "I do."
Logan kissed her nose. "What about a compromise- I'll make chicken for me, and I'll cover it with a rich cream sauce for you."
"Hmm." She curved her palm around his cheek. "And maybe stuff it with some ham and cheese?"
"Should I wrap it in bacon too?" Logan slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.
"Only if you want to."
His lips quirked with amusement as he leaned in to kiss her. "Bacon, it is then."
"While you're being so agreeable…" Veronica slid her fingers along his forearms, reaching behind her back to separate his hands, and free herself from his embrace. "I need to use some of the money Tomás brought over."
"Okay." He dragged a hand through his hair, scratched his scalp, and yawned. "Mud pies, huh? Think I can get an hour of sleep first?"
She frowned. "That's it? I tell you I'm taking the cash and you just say okay? What if I was going to blow it all at the casino, or give it away, or—"
"I don't care what you do with it, Veronica, it's your money too." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "But if you're planning another Thanksgiving trip, can we go somewhere more adventurous than New York? Maybe Cloudbreak or Manu Bay?"
Her nose wrinkled. "Family holiday vacations aren't surf trips."
With a shrug and a grin, he exited the bathroom. "But they could be… if you'd ever learn to surf." He flopped backwards onto the bed and plumped the pillow under his head. "Don't forget to shut the door on your way out."
Eyes closed, legs splayed, hands behind his head; he looked so comfortable it would serve him right if she left the door open, and sent Wyatt to find him. But she'd do neither. It wasn't his fault she was passing on the opportunity to sleep. Even if he was the reason.
"Hey, Logan?" He popped one eye open to stare at her. "Try not to flood the yard this time, okay?"
He smiled. "I make no promises."
Which meant it would look like a scene from The Day After Tomorrow, but hopefully without the freezing temperatures and wolves. Shaking her head, she exited the room, and shut the door with a thump.
The quiet said Wyatt was still outside with the dog and Dottie.
Veronica made her way to the kitchen, removed the locked pouch from the freezer, and withdrew fifteen thousand dollars. Her Google searches had revealed the average price for a kilo of coke in San Diego was between fourteen and twenty-one thousand dollars. She didn't know how much this was going to cost her, but she'd asked for the highest grade he could find. She took another five thousand just to be safe, then returned the bag.
Committing one… two… maybe three felonies before noon. She shook her head and filled her travel mug with more coffee. Fingers crossed she wouldn't get caught because the prison visiting room at Chowchilla was probably not what Logan had in mind when he suggested a more adventurous family vacation.