CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Siobhan.

Veronica had Logan show her the video. Twice. On the way to Karen's the car was a blur of blue, speeding down the residential street. But leaving the apartment, the car was easy to identify as it slow-crawled away from the crime scene. Interesting. Was Siobhan afraid of drawing attention to her car? Maybe she was worried that someone would look out their windows after hearing the gunshots? Or maybe they'd switched drivers? Siobhan drove on the way there and… Dominick behind the wheel as they left?

Next-door-neighbor Millie was positive the murdering-duo was a man and a woman, so Siobhan and her boyfriend, Dom? Did he betray his uncle for his girlfriend?

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Logan said, abandoning his stool. "You keep thinking your deep thoughts." He planted a quick kiss on the top of her head, then retreated from the room.

Her thoughts weren't all that deep. Giving a copy of this tape to Sam, along with the recording from the bug in Karen's apartment, would be enough to clear Pam of the theft. Sam would be able to hear Karen blackmail Siobhan for a cut, then see Siobhan's car at the scene the night of the murder. One plus one still equaled two, and Veronica had no doubt Sam would be able to follow the logic.

The only problem was timing. She needed to make sure Leo got the evidence first and arrested Siobhan before Sam could get to her. Veronica frowned. None of this answered the how. How did Siobhan smuggle out the cash? And where was it?

"Earth to Mars," Keith said, hanging Partner's leash on the hook next to the pool key.

"You know, that line was corny the first hundred times you used it, and it's still weak. Besides, I'm an Echolls now, so it's both cheesy and inaccurate."

Keith chuckled. "Can't blame a guy for liking cheese. And speaking of which, what's for dinner?" He patted his stomach. "I like coming home to find a hot meal waiting for me after a long, hard day at the office."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "I would say something about you never working hard, because as your partner, I know you don't, but I need a favor." Before he could make some wisecrack about her needing help, she plowed ahead. "Will you take the girls to the zoo tomorrow, and then do a sleepover at your house?"

He hesitated; a deep frown appeared on his face. "Not that I don't love uninterrupted time with my granddaughters, but I thought we were all going to the zoo on Sunday?"

Logan re-entered the kitchen in time for Keith's question and now they were both staring at her, waiting for an answer. Guilt niggled at her. Tomorrow was her alone time with Wyatt and Veronica had promised her sea lions. How did she explain that the zoo and sleepover were bribes designed to make Wyatt forget the original plan?

Move over Lianne, you've got competition for the Worst-Mother-Ever award.

"It wasn't a definite," she hedged. "It was only if I wrapped up my case in time." Veronica turned away from them, busying herself with the dishes in the sink. "And I need a few more days."

"A sleepover it is then," Keith said, without further argument.

Her relief didn't temper the guilt, but she pushed it aside. When they picked up the girls from Keith on Sunday, she and Logan could take them to La Jolla Cove for an hour or two. Wyatt could get her fill of sea lions, and all would be forgiven. Veronica gnawed her bottom lip as she washed the cutting board.

Five staccato alarm beeps signaled the opening of the front door. It was followed by Wyatt's loud singing as she erupted into the foyer. "Tum Up! Bow Back!" She marched into the kitchen, paused at the threshold to size up the adults, and then ran to Logan. "A Tooty-Ta, A Tooty-Ta, A Tooty-Ta-Ta," she shout-sang.

Recognizing the tune, Veronica's eye twitched, and she directed a baleful stare at Dottie. "I thought we agreed to never play that song anywhere near Wyatt."

"Pam—" Dottie started.

"Only taught her the dance," Pam interrupted, as if the caveat would save her from Veronica's wrath. "You were in control of the radio."

"Both of you are now on my list," Veronica said, pointing two fingers at her eyes and then at each of them, the universal I'm-watching-you gesture.

"Ouch." Logan winced. "That's not a great list to be on. I know because I spent most of junior year on it." He twirled an invisible mustache. "Constantly being accused of evil."

"Daddeee!" Wyatt tugged on his pants. "Wash me." Watch me. Logan smiled, nodding to confirm she had his full attention, and she resumed her singing. Only this time she added her dance moves. "Feet 'part, bottom up." Wyatt leaned forward, sticking her tush in the air, and wiggling.

"See, I told you it was cute," Dottie said with a smug grin.

It was adorable, but it wasn't enough for Veronica to let the infraction slide. They didn't have to listen to A Tooty Ta-Ta, screamed at them in a never-ending loop, forever. "You're still not forgiven."

"Will ice cream change your mind?" Dottie held up a bag with the MooTime Creamery logo. "We brought back Moo tacos." The waffle shell, shaped like a taco, was filled with ice cream and cookie dough, then dipped in chocolate and topped with sprinkles, nuts, or mini chocolate chips.

"Bygones," Veronica said, reaching for the bag, and Logan laughed. She stuck her tongue out at him and withdrew the clear plastic container, seriously contemplating the idea of introducing Wyatt to the Mars family tradition of ice cream for dinner. "Did you have a good time?"

Pam nodded. "We went to the library and the park near-"

"Ferry!" Wyatt shouted. She had yet to meet an exclamation point she didn't like. Do all toddlers speak in Loud Capital Letters, or just mine? Of course her level of excitement (and volume) was proportionate to how much she loved things, and she really loved the ride from the convention center to Coronado Island. On Wyatt's scale of peas being zero and Logan being a ten, the blue-and-white boats rated a solid seven.

"Where's Bailey?" Logan asked, bending to lift Wyatt from the floor to his shoulders. She leaned over his head to give his forehead an upside-down kiss, and he smiled.

"Outside with Nick and Tyler. She fell asleep in the car, and I didn't want to move her." Dottie scrunched her nose. "She was very C.R.A.N.K.Y. today."

Pam's expression said 'cranky' was too mild a descriptor, but she didn't contradict Dottie, and Veronica sighed. Three adults watching three children seemed fair and reasonable until you factored in the Mars-Echolls gene combination, then the math became a little fuzzy. Two were already too much, and now they were contemplating having more. If they expanded their brood, Wallace might not be the only one who quit babysitting.

Logan volunteered to get the fusspot. When he was gone, taking Wyatt out of earshot, Keith asked Dottie about the zoo/sleepover plan. Veronica transferred the pizzas from the fridge to the oven, pretending not to listen to their discussion. It wasn't the words so much—she wasn't worried Dottie would say no—it was the tone of the conversation that concerned her. She wanted to know if Lianne was still making trouble for them.

"Do you need me to do anything?" Pam asked, gesturing toward the dinner fixings.

Veronica glanced at Keith and Dottie. Their body language said they weren't fighting- Keith's hand held hers on the table, and their heads were bowed close together. Veronica nodded, satisfied all was well. "You can help me set the table," she said to Pam, as she took a stack of dishes from the cabinet. "And we can talk about Karen."

Their ensuing chat was short. Veronica only had time to ask if the police had questioned her about Karen's murder (yes), and if they'd taken copies of the surveillance video from that night (also yes), before Logan and Nick walked in with the kids. Then all talk of the case was silenced with pizza and ice cream.

Sometimes it was frustrating, having to sublimate her desire to ask questions and pursue her case in favor of being domestic. The split focus made her feel like she was failing at both being a detective and a mom. Veronica compensated by letting Wyatt have fingerpaints in the bathtub, and then convincing Logan to read her an extra story at bedtime. He obliged, but he raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

With an apologetic shrug, she slipped from the bedroom and headed to her own in order to get ready for Shenanigans. Fingers crossed tonight would be her last night of stripping. Her plan was simple. Confront Siobhan, get her to finger her accomplice, and then give her a choice- the police, or Sam. But it had to be done with a certain amount of finesse. Or she risked a fate like Karen's. Frowning, Veronica turned off the water.

A shirtless Logan was leaning in the doorway when she exited the shower. "Do you really need more time with the case, or were you just trying to get out of going to the zoo?"

"Well, you know how I feel about the zoo." She tugged a towel off the heated rack and wrapped it around her body. "And why are you always lurking around the bathroom while I'm in the shower?"

"Are you naked when you shower?" His grin was wolfish. She gulped before nodding, as Logan stalked across the floor to her. "Then you have your answer." He unbuttoned his jeans. "But I didn't want to lurk, I wanted to join."

"Hmm…" She hooked a finger in the loop of his pants, pulling him closer. "Then maybe you shouldn't have read Wyatt three bedtime stories."

Logan's mouth dropped open. "But you're the one who-"

Standing on her toes, Veronica silenced him with her lips. His hands smoothed down her back to her thighs and he lifted her from the floor. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, but then she pulled back, breaking the kiss. "We don't have time for this." She planted another quick kiss on his mouth, then returned her feet to the floor. "But let's reconvene, tonight after the club, our room at the Holiday Inn?"

"Reconvene? That sounds more like a business meeting than an indecent proposal."

"If you're not interested…" She stepped back, dropping her towel on the tile. "There are some case files I could read."

"Oh, I'm interested." Logan's gaze traveled over her skin. The slow, lazy perusal was the definition of indecent. "I definitely want to… listen to you read."

She rolled her eyes at the blatant lie. "Great, then we can just come straight home and you can watch me fold laundry too."

"Okay." With the backs of his fingers, he stroked her cheek. "But will you do it naked?" He glanced at her feet. "And in heels?"

"Only if you're wearing the same thing." Veronica kissed his knuckles. "Now shoo, I've got to get dressed and head to the club. I want to talk to Siobhan before she goes onstage." She moved as she talked, yanking a brush through her hair, then piling it atop her head in a haphazard bun held together with an elastic band and a hair stick. Her eyes found Logan's in the mirror. "I want to give her a chance to confess."

He smirked. "What you actually want is for her to tell you how she did it." Veronica stuck her tongue out at him, and his grin turned genuine, but then quickly faded. "You think she killed Karen." It wasn't a question, but Veronica nodded anyway. "And you're going to confront her?"

Logan started shaking his head, and she cut off his objection. "Give me a little credit. It's not like I'm going to do a Sherlock Holmes reveal in the middle of the dressing room. I'll just drop a few subtle hints so she knows that I know, and we'll see what happens."

From his expression, she could tell the plan did not fill him with confidence. This is why she liked to keep the finer points of investigation to herself, so Logan couldn't try to thwart her machinations. She waited for his protest, but he remained silent. Her eyes narrowed. The lack of warnings, stipulations, and conditions was very suspicious and not at all like her husband. Obviously, he was hatching his own scheme.

"Cat got your tongue?" she asked.

"Nope." He kissed the top of her head and walked from the bathroom with Veronica in pursuit.

"That's all you have to say?"

"Don't forget your gun." The reminder was nonchalant, as if he were telling her to bring an umbrella because it might rain. He disappeared into the darkness of the walk-in closet, then re-emerged a few seconds later carrying his boots. "Aren't you going to get ready?"

Veronica growled in frustration. "Whatever you're thinking about doing- don't."

"The only thing on my mind is getting dressed," he said, opening and closing dresser drawers in search of something. "Have you seen my black Henley?" She was about to remark that he owned a gazillion of them, when he clarified, "The v-neck one with the buttons and the long sleeves?"

"Bottom drawer, on the left." Without waiting for him to find it, she joined him at the dresser and hip-checked him out of the way, getting the shirt herself and shoving it at his midsection in a fit of ill-temper.

Logan only grinned at her frustration, then tugged the shirt over his head. "If I promise not to do anything but stand there and look tough, will you promise to not be alone with her, or Dominick?"

Without agreeing to his offer, she said, "So you think it's Dom too?"

"Makes sense," he said with a shrug. "They are sleeping together, but…did he really betray his uncle for Siobhan? I'm just not seeing it."

Neither was she. The one time Veronica had witnessed their interaction, Dom didn't seem all that into Siobhan, calling her 'babe' like he'd forgotten her name and walking one step ahead of her. Was he really going to turn on the Carlucci family for a stripper and two hundred grand?

The question stayed with her while she got dressed, kissed Wyatt goodnight, checked on Bailey, and then drove to the club. By the time Veronica parked in the lot, the question still seemed as far-fetched as the first time she'd asked it. But if not Dom, then who? Another dancer?

Lacey, perhaps?

The other girls derisively called Lacey 'Siobhan's Shadow' because she was always following her around. And when asked about the theft, Karen herself had said, 'I thought it was Lacey or Siobhan.' So why not Lacey AND Siobhan?

Lacey was also much shorter. The disparity in their heights could be enough for Millie to think the two people leaving the crime scene were a man and a woman, but Veronica had a hard time believing anyone would mistake Siobhan for a man. It wasn't that dark outside the apartment. It wasn't that dark anywhere.

Veronica left behind the debate along with her car and went in search of the actual woman herself. Siobhan could name her accomplice, and she could tell Veronica how she'd carried out the theft, because, like it or not, Logan was right when he'd said Veronica was itching to know how it was done.

She gave Bart a casual upward nod-a silent hey-as she slipped past him into the club. The hallway outside the dressing room was deserted, but the room itself was its usual frenzy of activity; however, there was no sign of either Siobhan or Lacey. Veronica gave the white board a quick read.

Lacey was dancing first on the main stage, which explained her absence- she'd probably rushed through getting ready so she could spend some time on the floor before her performance, but Siobhan wasn't scheduled to go on for almost an hour. Veronica frowned, then looked for Amber's name. She was next up after Lacey. Shit.

Her eyes searched for and found Pam across the room near the lockers. Veronica made her way over, weaving through the cliques of other dancers. It was like navigating the high-school cafeteria: the popular group who only danced the main stage, the 'extras'-dancers willing to do more in the VIP rooms for the right price-and then the private party girls. Maybe it was impossible for a large group of people to not splinter off into narrow little subsections of humanity? Veronica shook off the thought as she approached Pam. "Are you dancing tonight?"

She started, whipping around and staring wild-eyed at Veronica. "No," she said, her voice a tense whisper. "Joey and Sam are both here and they want a meeting." This explained the hunted look on her face.

"Can you put them off for an hour?" Veronica asked, unzipping her hoodie. In order to save time, she'd worn tonight's costume-black lace boyshorts with matching shelf bra-beneath an old Neptune Pirates fleece and the sweatpants she wore to clean the house. She dropped the pants and stepped out of them. "I need you to fill in for me. One set, so I can talk to Siobhan."

Relief smoothed Pam's pinched expression; she now had a valid excuse to avoid the despicable duo. "I can do that."

With a nod, Veronica moved away, stopping to remove her makeup case and boots from her bag before shoving it in a locker. Thankfully, the seats on either side of Bridget were taken because Veronica wasn't in the mood for an earful of gossip. She chose a spot at the far end of the counter and rushed through the routine- foundation, shadow, blush, mascara, liner, lipstick. Ten minutes, start to finish, and she was in the club searching for Siobhan.

When I lay in bed I touch myself and think of you, Lady Gaga sang over the pulsing electronic drumbeat. Last night, damn you were in my sex dream. You were in my... doing really nasty things.

In a sheer babydoll nightie, Lacey was onstage splayed across a mattress, enacting the nasty things only hinted at by Lady Gaga. All eyes were riveted by the performance, which made it possible for Veronica to glide through the audience mostly unnoticed. She made it all the way to the front door and Logan without seeing Siobhan.

"You look disappointed," Logan said when she drew closer.

"Really? You can tell I'm disappointed by staring at my thighs?" His gaze was leveled low, somewhere near the tops of the black lace-up boots.

"Mmm-hmm." A lazy smile spread across his face. "Your body tells me all sorts of things."

"Oh? What's it saying right now?" The sudden heat in his eyes made her pulse skitter. Time and space narrowed to just the two of them- the rest of the club forgotten under the need to be closer. She swayed toward him as the DJ welcomed Pixie to the stage.

Logan frowned down at her when she made no attempt to leave. "I think you're missing your cue."

The moody guitar and throbbing bass of the music started. Hot night coming. Keep the car running. As he recognized the song, his gaze darkened. It was the smoking hot 'I want you now' stare.

"Pam's dancing for me; I guess she didn't have time to switch the music." I fell into your spell, The Cathedrals sang, and Veronica knew exactly what they meant; she'd been under Logan's spell for a long time. You had me howling.

Logan moved forward-his eyes never leaving her face-until there was no space between them and then touched her cheek. Come lay your weakness down, on the floor in the backseat.

He lowered his head to kiss her and Veronica snapped out of it, remembering where they were. "You're going to blow our cover."

"I don't give a fuck," Logan breathed, catching a loose tendril of her hair and gently tucking it behind her ear. "You're the one who wanted to pretend we were strangers."

"Because you're playing Pam's boyfriend."

He shook his head. "No, I'm just her friend from Vegas." When she started to protest, he lifted her hand. "Which one of us stopped wearing their wedding ring? Because it wasn't me."

Veronica looked at both her bare finger and the platinum band still on his. She'd never bothered to notice before, assuming he was leaning into the 'Tyler's father' ruse simply because of the dressing-room gossip. "Logan, I-"

A loud crash pierced the music followed by screams. Chairs scraped across the floor. Veronica glanced over her shoulder. Men were rushing toward the front door, scurrying away from the center of the club. She dropped Logan's hand and pushed her way through the crowd, returning to the area in front of the main stage.

There was no more music. The DJ abruptly stopped Brodie Jenkins mid-sentence. I fell into your skin, on the night-

Sprawled in the middle of the floor was the twisted and broken body of Siobhan. Veronica halted at her feet. The heel of Siobhan's right shoe was cracked open, and the position of the body indicated she'd fallen, or been thrown, from above. Veronica scanned the dark recesses of the second floor. The shadows seemed to move, but they didn't fuse into a recognizable form- just ephemeral whispers of smoke.

She turned her head to find Logan. "Did you see her go upstairs?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Either she was there before the club opened, or she used the outside entrance. And before you ask, no one else went up there either."

Veronica frowned at the body, then at the balcony. There was no way that fall killed her. Statistically it was possible, but not likely, especially if she were conscious and tried to break her fall. And would she land on her back? Maybe?

"Veronica, we have to go," Logan urged in a fervent whisper.

Her eyes scanned the crowd. Most of the men had scattered from the club like rats leaving a sinking ship. Pam was no longer on the stage, but standing off to the side with some of the other girls. There was no sign of Lacey.

Joey and Sam were both supposed to be here tonight for the 'meeting' with Pam, but neither of them had made an appearance since the start of the commotion. It was reasonable for Sam to disappear-he'd hidden his involvement in the club behind multiple shell companies so it would take a long time for the police to make any sort of connection to him, if they ever did. However, it wasn't so easy for Joey to flee. As one of the owners, he'd need to be here for questioning.

"Veronica," Logan hissed in her ear as he took hold of her arm. "We need to get out of here- do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars." He started to pull her away from the body and the crowd, trying to lead her toward the hall and the dressing room beyond.

She refused to budge; instead, she stared at Siobhan. There was something …

Siobhan was wearing a variation of the outfit from her Facebook profile-boy shorts and lace-but that wasn't what drew Veronica's attention. 'We were instant besties- double dating, borrowing each other's clothes.' That's what Siobhan had said when Veronica asked her about Karen.

"I know how they did it."

"Great. Tell me about it at home." Logan's voice was pitched low enough for only her to hear. "They called the police- the dancers on their cell phones. If we don't leave, Lamb is going to walk through that door and blow your cover."

But it wasn't Lamb who walked through the door ten minutes later. The men were dressed in the tan Balboa County Sheriff uniforms, but Veronica didn't recognize any of them save for the person in charge- Special Agent Gil Townsend. He was failing at his impression of Lamb because he was actually competent.

Townsend had the men start by separating the witnesses to interview them individually. Good luck with that, Veronica thought. Pam had already corralled the dancers together, getting them robes in preparation of the police arrival, and Joey had magically appeared from his office, trying to convince the onlookers it was an accident by asking- 'who saw her fall?' -several times. Gil wasn't going to get straight answers from anyone.

Before a fake deputy could separate her from Logan, Gil approached. "Go interview the other bouncer," he said, dismissing the junior agent with a nod toward Bart. The man immediately followed the command, leaving no doubt that Townsend was the SAC of this operation.

"Nice uniform," Veronica said, squinting at the brass nameplate. "Deputy Jones."

Gil grimaced, running a finger along the inside collar of the tan shirt, trying to pull it away from his neck."I miss my suit," he muttered and jerked his chin toward the dead body. "Tell me what happened."

"We didn't see it, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't an accident." Veronica hesitated. Conversation here was difficult. They'd already strayed too close to familiarity and she needed to pull it back. Siobhan's murder had changed things, making it important to keep the Amber charade intact until she could figure out her next moves.

Gil seemed to understand her reluctance. Lowering his voice, he said, "Why don't I come by the house tomorrow" -a quick look at his watch- "later today, and we'll talk?"

"Make it after one," Logan said. "We need to get some sleep."

Veronica nodded in agreement, adding, "And I have something to do first."