A/N: Thank you for your patience, everyone. This chapter plus my last week has equaled a slow posting schedule. Thank you, Bondopoulos, for your advice and long-suffering while I fiddled with the plot. And thank you all for the every review (good and bad) and follow and favorite. The numbers have surprised and pleased me. It keeps me going. Hopefully the longer chapter will make up for it taking a while to get this posted.
Chapter 33
Veronica numbly watched as Agent Krause-D'Amato peeled off the black wig from her head and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling the pins out that held it back at the same time. Deidre shook her head, and let her locks cascade down her back before she pulled it back and fastened the hair in a ponytail with an elastic that materialized from nowhere.
"What are you going to do?" Veronica's voice came out in a puff. "You never said anything about Sanders going in."
"Look, Veronica," Deidre said impatiently as she pulled out a tiny little gun out from the inside of her purse. "You've done your duty; you've done what we agreed to do. It didn't quite work out the way we'd hoped. You helped me get into the guy's place and plant the bugs—even though Clinton found the one you planted—"
Veronica drew back. "Well, God, Dee, it's not like he's a novice or something. Clinton would have been expecting the room to be bugged. You said yourself that he'd be suspicious. That's why you planted the extra one in the bedroom."
"It's done." Deidre snapped, removing the dangling earrings and all other baubles that might keep her from top performance. "It doesn't matter. The bug idea didn't work. Sanders will go in and plant another one."
"How does he suppose he'll be able to pull that off? 'Excuse me, sirs, while I attach a recording device to each of your suit jackets. Continue your plans of debauchery as if I'm not even here.'"
Deidre ignored Veronica's jibe. Instead, the agent looked one last time at her phone and read a text. "Sanders is almost to the eighth floor. Go down and meet your friends on the second floor or wherever the hell they are. Get them out of this hotel. It's time for you to go home and let us take care of this."
Veronica's retort about double-crossing agents died on her lips because Deidre's comment directed her thoughts to her friends. Dick and Mac hadn't called yet from the second floor demanding to know where Veronica was. They really should have done so by now. Fiddling with her phone, Veronica checked it for bars. It had plenty of service, but there had been no missed calls or unnoticed texts. Where were they? Why hadn't Mac called yet? What was going on?
Seeing no one in the hallway, Dick motioned for Mac to step out of the elevator. He tip-toed over the threshold and looked in all directions before he relaxed enough to beckon Mac to follow him. While watching Dick, Mac felt a strange wave of humor wash over her. She half-expected him to push his body against the wall and slink down the hallway while pressed against it the entire way. His movements were reminiscent of The Pink Panther. All he was missing was a rain-coat and hat. And a magnifying glass. And the swell of a saxophone in the background. Well, he was missing a lot to be able to compare to Inspector Clouseau. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, since the Inspector was a bit of a buffoon. But Dick reminded her of him anyway.
Her smirk grew wider when Dick turned back to her with a finger on his lips. He quirked his head twice towards the end of the hall and crooked his thumb in the direction of the stairwell door. He turned back and began moving again. His wide steps were exaggerated as he made his way down the hall, his head bopping forward goofily. Mac snorted. He grinned over his shoulder wickedly and winked, not missing a beat as he continued on, Mac close on his heels.
From her earpiece, Mac could hear Clinton still blustering about the room on a rampage. Kane continued his questioning, but his voice was steadily becoming odder still with each syllable. Kane's words were coming in quick succession, betraying his own anxiety. The whole exchange was fascinating to listen to, because both men seemed ignorant of what was really happening. Clinton was going on and on about how Veronica must be the one behind the bug he'd found in the suite. He was rambling about how Veronica was after Muldoon and wasn't going to stop just because the FBI was involved. Most interesting of all was that Clinton assumed Agent Krause-D'Amato was not involved. He even thought that Mac helped in some capacity.
Well, the bug had been planted by Veronica, but Mac had nothing to do with it. Mac was in no way guilty of entering the suite with her friend. Sure, she'd designed the bug that was now wrapping the proverbial noose about Clinton's neck, but inventing and planting were two very different beasts. And Agent Krause-D'Amato was nowhere near the idiot field agent that Clinton assumed she was.
They were halfway through the hall when Mac heard the scrape of a door opening. The sound reverberated off the walls. Dick responded by twisting quickly around to grab Mac. He pushed her hard against a nearby door, pinning his lower body into hers and burrowing his face into her neck. Mac went along with his ploy, putting up no resistance to his aggression, all the while keeping her eyes hooded to watch as a woman stepped out into the hallway from a room at the far end. After only one look at the woman and Mac had her labeled as Madonna. Madonna wore a short, tight, strapless green dress, with silver stilettos, her brunette hair styled in something straight out of the eighties. She wore garish makeup that totally didn't work for her complexion, and she looked ready to party hard. Madonna didn't give any indication that she noticed Mac and Dick at all. She merely kept her stare straight ahead while passing them to the elevator door. Once there, Madonna quickly punched the down button then folded her arms, causing the slender strap of her purse to fall from her shoulder while she waited for the door to slide open.
Mac was convinced that Madonna was no real threat to anyone unless someone lit a lighter too close to her overly hair-sprayed tendrils. Mac tilted her face away from Dick's mouth and pushed her fingers into his shoulders to signal him to loosen his hold. Not obeying, Dick's leg instead found its way between Mac's legs and anchored her more firmly against the wall while he rubbed his knee against her. It was all Mac could do to not gasp out loud from his talent—God, this man was amazing! –while his tongue threaded its way up and down her neck, his hands—mmm…-If Mac weren't careful, she might embarrass herself right here in the hallway. Mindlessly, she threw her neck back with a purr when his fingers ran up her rib cage to the underwire of her bra. His thumbs grazed over the tips of her breasts, shooting a zing of pleasure straight to her toes.
The ding of the elevator brought Mac back down to earth, albeit floatingly. Dazed, she forced her eyes open—somehow she had allowed them to flutter shut—belatedly recalling that they had an audience. She was surprised, however, when her eyes locked onto a room-service waiter's brown-eyed stare. The waiter pushed a cart past Madonna, rolling it through the open elevator door and out into the hall.
The server broke the gaze first, his attention returning to the numbers on each door, obviously searching for the correct one to knock on. Something about the attendant made Mac push Dick away from her to really look at him. He was wearing the typical uniform of the wait-staff of black slacks, white shirt, black vest, and tie under a suit jacket. There really was nothing remarkable about him except, perhaps, his age. In Mac's admittedly limited knowledge of the Neptune Grand's wait-staff, servers tended to be college-aged or just older. This server looked to be at least thirty; his straight brown hair was slicked back into a greasy coif and his build was more solid than that of a young kid.
She didn't exactly know what caused her to be suspicious. Maybe it was just her apprehensive nature, or the way Keith and Veronica had trained her, but the waiter just somehow looked off to her. Something wasn't right.
Rolling the cart closer to where Dick still had Mac pinned against a door, the waiter scrutinized their PDA—looking them both up and down. He simply gave a slight nod and said, "Good evening," as he approached and stopped before them. His attention was divided between the couple and the door directly across from them. Dick had slightly pushed his body away from Mac, his palms at either side of her head, flattened against the door she leaned upon, but his attention was now on the server and his cart of covered food. Mac peeked curiously over Dick's elbow. Her mind was still trying to distinguish what exactly was wrong with the server.
The waiter now had his back to them as he busily adjusted the flower sitting in a vase atop the cart and straightened the salt and pepper shaker. Mac thought his confidence was more than evident even with the nervous perfecting of the presentation of the cart. She surveyed the length of him, first focusing on his shoes—much nicer quality than what wait-staff would usually wear—then to the distinctive bulge under the back of his jacket. Her eyes jumped up to his ear—unsurprised to see an earpiece of some sort there, small enough that it was obvious to only the keenest of eyes.. Small enough that only someone like herself—trained by the best—would take note of. To her it was more than obvious that this guy was a fed.
The waiter, or Fed, or whoever, looked up to the door in front of him and pulled at the hem of his jacket. Mac swore she could see him mentally bracing himself for whatever was about to come. Her eyes jumped to the number on the door, and her suspicion was confirmed. 8028. The waiter/Fed knocked, calling out assertively, "Room service!"
It just wasn't fair. Here Mac was, trying to help a friend out, and to be honest, the degree to which she was helping out was questionable, but still, she was here attempting to be helpful. And whatever help she could offer was being ruined by a federal agent doing his covert operation right in front of them. Really, what had she been planning to do, kick the door in? Demand Kane and Clinton come with her and Dick to the lobby and turn themselves over to the FBI while Mac took all the glory? Deep down, Mac knew her act now, ask questions later motto was an indication of spending too much time with an impulsive best friend. She hadn't thought much beyond getting to Veronica and not letting her friend one-up her by giving out incorrect information, such as the wrong room number. Now Mac could see the error of that non-plan. Always, always think through a plan before execution, she chided herself silently. Always.
If and when that door opened, both Kane and Clinton would see Mac and Dick standing in the hallway like the sitting ducks that they were. It would release a hail-storm of epic proportions. Internally, Mac was roiling with terror, how the hell do I get myself into these predicaments? The dread of the moment was made more imminent by the culmination of everything that had happened to her in the past seven days. Madison missing, Dick being attacked, meeting her bio-folks, seeing a sick Lauren, confronting Madison, being kidnapped, falling hard for Dick. What else could happen to her? Possibly a lot, if this didn't play out well. It was feasible to think that by having Dick by her side and having a Federal Agent between the two of them and that door her week could get worse still. The agent was armed. Mac knew it, even if Dick hadn't yet figured it out. But the waiter/Fed attempting to gain access into the suite had no idea that the two 'lovers' behind him were even remotely involved with the drama about to unfold. The waiter/Fed likely planned that upon entering the room as a room-service lap-dog, the door would shut behind him to leave the lovebirds safely in the hallway. In reality, Mac knew that his plan would not come to fruition.
Jake Kane's booming voice coming through Mac's earpiece pulled her mind from her racing thoughts. He complained loudly, "Room service, what the hell?" before unbolting the door. From her vantage point, Mac stood in frozen horror as the door to 8028 opened to reveal a rather agitated looking Jake Kane. Dick stood taut against her, his fingers crushing hers. In that infinitesimal second, he tugged at her hand, sensing the danger. She could tell he wanted to bolt and go running wildly down the hallway and into the stairwell screaming with his hands waving in the air. Part of her was ready to join him, but the other, more dominant, troublesome part rooted her to the floor, waiting to see exactly how this would play out.
Mac was relieved to realize that Jake Kane didn't see her and Dick, at least not at first. His eyes were cast down at the room-service cart when he opened the door Mac saw no reaction from him other than a sour expression on his face because of the interruption. Dick, on the other hand, reacted. He dropped Mac's hand that he'd been tugging at, and again began to ravish her. His hands roughly grabbed her arms, forcing her hands up and around his neck. Dick's mouth was hot against her ear. "Mackie, we're supposed to meet V. Let's get the hell out of here." Before she could whisper her agreement, Dick's arms wrapped about her, his hands cupped the fullness of her ass and lifted her up off of the ground. His fingers kneaded down the length of her thighs, encouraging her to wrap her legs about his waist. She melded into him immediately, becoming fluid in his embrace, and let her head tip into his neck.
Successful in picking her up completely, Dick moved away from where they had been against the door and stepped three strides closer to the stairwell before pinning her once more to the wall. "Act like you like it, Mackie," Dick demanded before nipping the pulse point at the base of her throat with his teeth.
Obeying, or at least letting Dick think she was obeying, Mac threw her head back and gasped in pleasure. He growled a loud satisfied growl and squeezed her ass with his fingers in response, his tongue still hot against her throat. She threaded her fingers in his hair and pulled, letting their show continue on for a moment while Dick kept them in motion. With Mac still in his arms he moved further and further away from door 8028 and closer and closer to the stairwell.
Throughout this display, Mac managed to keep her attention on what she could hear in her ear. Kane had begun to argue with the delivery boy, saying that he must have the wrong room. The server just as firmly argued back, saying Room 8028 had a standing dinner delivery every night at this very time. It was apparent that Kane wanted to continue his argument, but eventually he relented because Mac heard the cart being wheeled into the room.
Mac knew that Jake stepped out into the hallway to check them out. She and Dick were almost home free, only a few more doors and they would be out of harm's way. In her ear, Mac heard Kane mutter, "Someone needs to get a room," just as Dick's mouth caught hers again. She broke away, gasping and laughing at the same time when she heard the door to 8028 loudly shut—the noise echoing in both her ear and the hall.
Dick laughed too, a relieved kind of gurgle. He gingerly peeled Mac's legs from his hips and set her feet firmly on the floor. He then took her hand and began the sprint to the end of the hallway, taking no more time than necessary.
Finger to her ear, Deidre paced the five foot wide landing of the eighth floor stairwell. Veronica stared at her phone, a feeling of dread overtaking her. There was no noise in the stairwell at all to indicate Dick and Mac had made it across the second floor. At the very least, Mac should have made contact through texting by now. But it was stone silent.
There was a sudden pounding of feet coming down the hallway of the eighth floor. From the other side of the doorway, Veronica could hear a steady rhythm like someone running. The growing dread she felt clouded over her, making her fingers and limbs feel numb. Someone was being chased down that hall. She knew it.
Pushing Deidre aside, Veronica yanked open the door, ready to create whatever diversion needed to keep the assailant of the pursued away somehow. Instead, she came face to face with Dick. Behind him was Mac, her eyes sparkling from exertion and adrenaline. Veronica held the door wide and ushered them through. She was so unbelievably glad to see them safe and sound that she was speechless. She let Dick past her and then grabbed Mac in a bear hug, tightly clutching her friend into her.
The door was slow to close, and Veronica, still holding Mac, looked over her friends shoulder and into the hallway. Her breath caught in her chest when her eyes locked onto Jake Kane standing there. Veronica saw recognition spark in Jake's eyes before the door swung lazily shut. Dizziness and shock almost overtook her senses.
It took only a moment for Veronica to snap out of it. She pulled abruptly away from Mac's returned embrace, dazed. She was so numb from the look she had just shared with Jake Kane that she barely heard Dick's snarky comment about wanting a hug, too, dammit. Her body seemed to react before her brain caught up as she swung Mac into Dick's arms and flung herself hard against the door, grabbing the door handle to see if it locked. No luck. Her companions shared a look of confusion at her wild response.
Under her breath, Veronica said to them, "He just saw me."
Mac paled, her eyes immediately going to the door.. "Who saw you?"
"Jake Kane." Veronica stressed his last name lest there was confusion. "Did he know it was you two?"
"I didn't think so." Mac's lips tightened in a straight line. "We were making out and he said we needed to get a room. I heard his room door shut and we thought he went back into the suite. We made a run for it."
"He didn't go back in. He was watching you." She expected Jake to break down the door any second. There was nothing, however, and Veronica relaxed a bit against the door but didn't move from her post.
Mac pressed a finger to her ear where Veronica could see an earpiece. She was concentrating on what she heard there. "I hear him in the room with Clinton. Maybe he didn't recognize you."
"Oh, he recognized me, all right." Veronica responded. "He had the same crazy look that he always has when it comes to me."
"That look isn't just reserved for you, Ronnie," Dick piped up. "He flew over the cuckoo's nest forever ago and I think he's still hovering, eating the dregs of cray-cray."
"Well, whatever level cray-cray he is, he knew it was me."
Deidre interrupted their bickering when she abruptly held her hand out to Mac and demanded, "Give me the receptor." She waited while Mac motioned for Dick to hand over the earpiece he'd been wearing before saying, "And please, please tell me that it's recording what's being picking up."
"You doubt my abilities? Ha, you've only just met me, I forget. Please, never fear. My tools of espionage ensure their own snare-age." Mac turned her phone to speaker. "The earpiece is moot if we just listen like this." They all crowded around the phone that extended out of Mac's hand and began to listen in to the conversation now playing out inside Suite 8028.
"…would just ask Mr. Muldoon, he would confirm his standing dinner order for the nights he is our guest." Came the waiter's voice.
There was a loud shuffling and then Clinton answered curtly, "Mr. Muldoon is unavailable at the moment."
"Ahaha," The waiter simpered conspiringly. "Mr. Muldoon is often…unavailable. Some guys have all the luck."
Footsteps followed, and the opening of the door was apparent. "Thank you, sirs, and on behalf of the Neptune Grand, have a wonderful evening." The door slammed shut.
"Where the hell did you go?" Clinton demanded.
"There was a couple in the hallway—making a huge scene. The guy turned just right—and I knew who it was. I talked to him down in the lobby, so I watched him. Things like this are never coincidences. He and his girlfriend dry-humped their way to the stairwell and when they opened it—I saw…I saw Veronica Mars."
"Veronica Mars?" Hissed Clinton. "What on God's green earth is she doing here?"
"It's obvious, isn't it? She and Dick Casablancas are conspiring against me."
"Dick Casablancas? That's who you saw? Let me guess, the girl he was sucking face with was a hot little brunette." There was an agitated silence. "That's proof enough that Veronica Mars planted that bug, She must have had Dick follow you up here. She had to have come in here earlier and drugged the idiot Muldoon. She's going rogue. We warned her not to go her own way and let the FBI handle it, and here she is trying to go around and be the hero. She's got her whole Mystery Van involved. She's going to be surprised when she's the one heading to prison." A pause. "What did you say to Dick Casablancas?"
"What does Dick Casablancas have anything to do with anything? How does he fit into this?" Jake asked. "He hasn't changed in ten years; he's just like his dad, philandering and plowing whatever walks."
"He's her little lap-dog. She says jump and he jumps, and while he's in the air, he's asking if it's high enough. She's got him by the short curlies."
"Now that's just mean." Veronica mumbled. "We all know whose curlies I've got a hold of and it's not Dick's."
The other three just looked at her.
"Wait, no, that came out wrong." Veronica amended awkwardly, embarrassed, quickly backtracking "Let me rephrase."
"No, I think we got it." Dick murmured with a grin. "From your lips to my ears."
"Shut up, Dick," all three women whispered in unison.
"She's after me, I know it." Jake was saying. "She has her damn camera and she's setting me up. I won't let her get away with it. I won't!"
"Jake, she's after Muldoon. She knows this is his suite—"
"She followed me here. She's setting me up! I have to get that camera. I want that camera. I know-"
"Jake, Jake, you need to calm down!"
"Calm down? Calm down? You're telling me to calm down when Veronica Mars is in the Neptune Grand with all her scheming and ploys to set me up? I won't have it! I am going to find that woman, and I don't care what I have to do. I'm finding her and she will give me back everything she has on me, if it's the last thing I do."
"Get the hell out of here," Deidre demanded, suddenly whipping around to face them. "That man is half-way manic, and he'll go crazy if he sees you again. Agent Sanders and I will take care of it from here. Get out of the hotel and we'll meet back up at MI or your apartment later." She pushed Veronica gently toward the stairs when Veronica began to object, "You're not safe here right now. The best thing to do is to get out of their line of sight and we can reassess when the danger's passed. We almost got 'em, we're just waiting on a little more." Dick and Mac didn't question the agent. Mac pulled at Veronica whose eyes were still locked on Deidre's set expression. After a moment, Veronica nodded her acquiesce. She spun around to join the other two and began the rush down the stairs.
Eight flights took a long time to navigate, especially in the stilettos Veronica still wore. Mac and Dick stayed ahead, Veronica straggling behind because of how the shoes were slowing her down. Finally giving up, Veronica flung them off, leaving them on the fourth floor's landing. With a wistful glance at her fancy, girly shoes, Veronica quickly caught up with the other two just as they rounded the third floor's landing and continued down the next two flights.
They broke out of the doors and into the lobby. Disoriented, Veronica looked around, trying to discern where exactly she was. Every other time she'd been here, she'd only ever used the elevator. Emerging out of a doorway she was unaccustomed with and being in a rush overwhelmed her enough that she felt lost.
Way more people were in the building now than had been earlier. Veronica looked around, her panic slowly evaporating now that they were close to an actual exit. She smiled confidently at a man that walked by who upon seeing her did a double take. He looked her up and down appreciatively. Only then did she remember how scantily clad she must look with her chest heaving and the hem of her dress riding up her thigh. She tugged at the edge of it, her eyes still searching the lobby.
Her gaze froze on the sight of Jake Kane emerging from the opening elevator. Without a thought, she grabbed Dick's arm and pulled him with her as she headed to her right and away from the elevator, confident that Dick would grab Mac. She prayed Jake hadn't seen them. They ran down a hallway that had conference rooms on both sides. The end of the hallway opened to the ballroom. There were people milling about, heading that way. They pushed their way through, still rushing.
The ballroom door was open. A black poster board with bright neon lettering sat on an easel announcing: "Midnight Madness Craft Fair! One Night Only!" Veronica only just glimpsed at it as the three of them pushed through the throng of people and into the room.
"He's right behind us!" Mac whispered loudly in her ear. "He saw us come in here!"
Veronica didn't chance a look back. Instead, she searched above the crowd for an exit sign. "Well, we'll just have to blend."
"Blend?" Dick responded. "With the scarf thing you are wearing you'd blend better at the Seventh Veil, Ronnie. I doubt you'll get very many complaints, but still. Blending might not go the way you want." He winked. "Logan would be so proud."
They kept walking, Veronica edging them to the wall. The room was filled with booths. They were lined against the wall with a row to walk, and more booths in the center. The goods being sold ranged from canned jellies to ornamental swords. Her eyes focused on a green exit sign on the far end of the room. She made a beeline for it, keeping a tight hold of Dick's sleeve so as not to lose him in the crowd. She had full faith that he wouldn't let go of Mac.
Pushing through a crowd of people when in a hurry wasn't easy. Gawkers made it even more difficult as people stopped abruptly to check out the goods at each of the booths, making it next to impossible to get through them very fast. Every few steps, Mac would announce how Jake was only a few booths behind them. It seemed very slow compared to how urgently they were trying to get through the people.
They were one booth away from the exit. Veronica could just see over a black canvas of a booth the green words 'EXIT' lit up. She looked at the next booth over. They were tied together. The only way to get to the exit would be to get through the booth that abutted it. Somehow they would have to sneak through the booth without creating a scene.
How were the three of them going to be able to do that? She silently worried. She eyed the table and tablecloth that covered it. Maybe they could climb down and through it….
"Veronica Mars?" Veronica heard his voice before she saw him, but she recognized his slightly doped-up sounding voice. Her eyes connected with his over the table she'd been contemplating sneaking under, only now seeing that it was covered with wallets made of assorted colors of duct-tape.
"Corny?"
"I can't believe you came to my show! You got my invite!" Corny stood across from her, a goofy smile on his face. "I have to admit that I'm a little shocke—"
"Listen, Corny," Veronica blustered over him, "We're kind of…" she looked back to see that Jake was not even two booths away now. She looked back. "On a case thing. We need to get to that exit," she pointed, "And we need no one else to follow us."
Corny grinned. "You need a Corny Distraction, no prob. Anything for the girl that designed my most famous of all useful artwork. Just say the word." Vacantly he grinned at her.
The three of them stared back for a moment. Veronica shook her head. "Um..catch up here, Corny. I kind of just did."
Corny blinked. "Oh, right." After a second, he nodded and drew back, gesturing to the side of the table. "Come on back, ladies and gent…" He looked twice at Veronica's companions and paused on Dick. "Uh, and, uh…man, come get an inner working of the way I design and propagate my wallets and purses. We've moved up production and are really making a fair profit by expanding globally…"
When all three were behind the table, Corny silently pointed out how the booth's fabric wall zipped down to permit entry from the back, all the while yammering on about his profit margins. They slipped through and as Corny zipped it up, Veronica looked back at him. "Thanks, Corny."
"Yeah…where are you headed? Here," Corny said, pulling a set of keys from his pocket, "My van is three cars down. I can get a ride. Take it. The green Astrovan."
"Really?" Veronica grinned, reaching out to grab hold of the key chain, "You're seriously saving us."
"Eh, happens all the time. You can get it back to me tomorrow." With that, Corny finished zipping the canvas up and turned back to his booth.
Veronica stared at the wall of fabric in wonder. Corny was definitely one in a million. She listened for a moment as he greeted his next customer:
"Hello, sir, care to look at our specialty wallets? Just for tonight, we've made an exclusive wallet for the midnight flash sale. It comes in your choice of neons: green, yellow, or pink. And might I suggest green for you. It features glow-in-the-dark taping, so there's no way to lose it in any situation. And might I show you the exclusive design of the card slots? A Black Amex would fit per—"
"No, no thank you," Came Jake Kane's harsh reply. "I really just need through your booth and to that exit behind you."
"Well I'm sorry, sir, but only booth members are allowed through the back."
Veronica snorted with laughter as the three of them opened the exit and toppled out into the night. Dick slammed the door shut behind them before they set out on a dead run down the sidewalk.
Anxiously, Dick called out, "Where are we going?"
Corny hadn't lied about his van. It sat waiting for them in a parking spot against the building three spots down. "Right here," Veronica motioned to the van, running up to the driver's side.
"A Shaggin' Wagon?" Dick asked in awe, his eyes roaming the length of the van as he came to a stop. "Freakin' Corny's my hero if there's a bed in the back."
"We're running for our lives and Dick's looking for a place to get laid, of course." Veronica snarked, pushing the key into the lock and turning it, "Tell ya what Dick, you get in the back and take care of yourself while Mac and I save your ass." She hit unlock and hopped in while the other two ran around to open their respective doors, Mac in the passenger seat and Dick in the back. Dick sighed his supreme disappointment when, instead of a bed, he found boxes of duct-tape wallets and bags to sit amongst.
From the rear view mirror, Veronica saw Dick wince. He pulled a huge roll of duct-tape in purple-leopard print out from under him. "Are you sure this guy doesn't secretly wear heels in his spare time?"
Veronica turned to check her blind spots as she backed out. She looked at Dick for a moment. "What do you wear in your spare time, Dick? Maybe you run in the same circles and haven't realized it. Nice purse."
Dick looked down to see that a purse in bright neon-pink with yellow cats sprinkled upon it had made its way onto his lap. He shook his head in disgrace. "Corny really makes money at this?"
"He's upped his production line; didn't you hear him back there?"
Pulling the van into drive, Veronica pushed the throttle down and sped through the parking lot. She looked out her side window and saw Jake Kane rushing out the exit with Corny right behind him, arms flailing in his attempt at a diversion. Jake began running after them, straight down the middle of the row, sprinting for all he was worth. Veronica didn't even stop to look as she approached the road, turning the steering wheel hard to the right, careening on two wheels out onto the road. Her last visage of Jake was as he reached the road, his fists shaking in anger and frustration.
"Mac, can you hear what's happening in the suite?"
"One moment." Mac pressed the speaker and once again, their attention was fixed on the happenings inside Suite 8028.
A phone rang. " 'Lo?" Clinton answered and after a short pause, said, "They were running? They didn't want you to see them….I know, I know. They have to be taken care of. Tonight. There's a way. But…right. Yes. Get your ass back up here. Muldoon waking up."
Silence.
Veronica made her way to the freeway, lost in thought. Finally, she said, "Call Dee. Find out why they haven't moved to get Clinton. Something's up."
"Hello, Agent Clinton. This is Agent Krause-D'Amato. I just was calling for an ETA on your arrival again. I see online that your flight might be delayed another hour. You're probably in the air as we speak…but I have news about the case. I was going to wait until we met in the morning, but I don't feel like it can keep. Something's up with Veronica and her team. I did a little research on her…and she has a history that makes me think that she's going to try something, something on her own. She was too quiet during our collection of information at her office, like she wasn't being completely forthcoming with the evidence, I don't know, call it intuition. She was jumpy. I went to her apartment as requested and met my partner there. We went in and she started acting fishy, you know the way. She'd stated earlier that there was another list of the one that you confiscated from Ms. Mackenzie—the one she claimed was so important? Anyway, when we arrived, Veronica insisted there's no physical list but that it was on her computer. She then informed us that she wouldn't hand it over without a warrant. I don't know what her deal is; it's like she doesn't trust me all of a sudden. But she knows her rights, and we need to do this all the legal ways or it could be inadmissible in court. So I had to relent. Since it's a Friday and it was near five o'clock when she pulled that, we just…well we had no other choice but to tell her Monday was when we would take the computer. Monday is the soonest we can get it. I told her we would place them all under arrest until she handed it over, but she wouldn't budge. I could put some heat on all three of them if you think I should…we could hold them for the night…it's up to you and how important that list is to you. It seems that since we already have it…maybe it's not that big of a deal. You've looked at it, though, and you know the value. I think it's very important at least that you meet me in the morning so I can turn all this other information over to you. You can determine where to go from there."
In the suite, Clinton listened to his voice mail. So the little private eye was demanding the FBI go through the proper channels. Hadn't he told her to cooperate or there would be consequences? He hadn't been bluffing. If Ms. Mars thought she could pull something over him, she had another thing coming. He had to get into that apartment and find that list. He couldn't wait to take the little bitch down a notch. The message eased some of his tension. Agent Krause-D'Amato was just a patsy who Clinton could manipulate until he had everything he needed to keep the Castle out of the public's eye. He chuckled when he erased the message and checked the time. He still had an hour before he technically should respond to the other agent's call because he supposedly was on a plane. When he did call, it would be in a huff that Veronica Mars was not being forth-coming. He'd demand that Agent Krause-D'Amato hold all three of them until the FBI went through every shred of evidence. They would be charged with tampering of evidence, withholding evidence, whatever, he'd charge them with everything under the sun to keep them out of his way tonight. Then he would take care of the Veronica Mars problem on his own.
Now, Clinton eyed Jake Kane, who had returned from his little jaunt downstairs in pursuit of the little witch and her monkeys. He was now pacing in front of the picture window, a look of pure hatred on his face. Many times, Clinton had heard the legend of the great Jake Kane, but in the flesh the man couldn't be any more different than what the rumors had led Clinton to believe. They'd been different years at Hearst and had never met face-to-face until tonight. But Clinton had to admit that he was a little disappointed. The guy was skittish, his eyes roaming about the room suspiciously. His nervous energy was almost like that of a drug-addict. The mere mention of Veronica Mars made a vein stick out on his forehead, and now, after chasing her through the damn hotel, a vein was throbbing under his jaw. If he hadn't met Veronica himself, Clinton might think Jake Kane was delusional. Hell, he probably delusional, but Clinton didn't question why Veronica Mars, Dick Casablancas, and the hot little Cindy Mackenzie had been snooping around the Neptune Grand tonight.
It had always been said that when there was a problem that couldn't be contained, call Jake Kane. He was the top-dog of the Castle, the alpha-male, if you will. But in the flesh, it wasn't apparent. Maybe the guy played crazy and then surprised everyone when he took charge of the situation. Clinton wasn't holding his breath for that to happen.
Shaking his head in disgust, Clinton set to work. He booted his computer up and googled Veronica Mars' home address as well as the location of Mars Investigations. He wanted to get into her apartment tonight, with or without Kane's assistance. Clinton figured it that his night would run more smoothly if Kane wasn't involved any more than he already was. But he needed help with someone, either Kane or Muldoon. Kane seemed set on doing more harm than necessary, and Clinton wasn't convinced it was totally needed. If he could gain access to Veronica Mars's computer and sabotage it, he would be able to plant evidence there to prove that she was withholding information about the case. He could and he would make her life a living hell.
The information on his screen popped up just as Jake Kane strode by. "What are you doing?"
"We've got to get that list for the good of the Castle. I want to get into Mars' apartment to wipe her computer clean. If I plant information about the Utah case, she'll be charged for withholding evidence."
A smile broke out on the other man's face. "Genius. Send her away for life, dammit. That's why you're where you are at. Get rid of our problems. One. By. One. I'm sick of my run-ins with that bitch."
"Oh, we will. But I need your help. Get Muldoon out here. We've got a job to finish."
Their little apartment had never looked so inviting to Mac. She flipped her shoes off and pushed them under the little bench next to the door, pretending for a moment that it was just a regular day after work. She hadn't felt this tired in a long time. If only she could just order some take out and veg.
That wasn't possible tonight. They were so close to the end of this thing that Veronica's edginess was starting to seep into her. Or maybe Mac had been edgy all along and it was seeping over to Veronica. Either way, Mac was definitely on the brink. She stepped to the side to let Veronica, on her phone, texting rapidly, follow her in. Deidre had called when they were halfway home with news. There was a new plan in the works now, a plan that would involve some more craftiness from Mac. She needed to get to work.
Veronica pushed past Mac and headed straight for her room. Mac had a feeling that Veronica was trying to get a hold of Logan and that was why she didn't stop to talk before bolting to her room. Dick entered the apartment last. He took his time pulling his jacket off and hanging it on the hook. Eventually he shut the door and turned to look at her, his back against it.
Dick looked exhausted. He let the back of his head thump against the door panel while he kept his stare on hers. "Do you think this will work?"
"Well, at least it's more than just the three of us this time."
The picture was clearer than normal. Veronica felt like she could almost touch him. Logan seemed so close but he was far away. Like normal. Would this ever change?
Logan's frown broke into a radiating smile when the video call connected. The laugh lines about his eyes were prominent and that much more tangibly Logan. Veronica made no effort to hid the fact that she touched the screen, wishing it was his skin instead of the cool plastic.
With her other hand, she covered her mouth. "Hi." It had only been since last night, but God, it felt longer. Way too much was happening with this damn case. Soon. It would be over soon.
"How was your flight?" Logan innocently asked, and Veronica realized that he had no inkling of the lengths she had gone to today.
Talking to Logan was always so therapeutic to her. But these Skype calls were hard at times. There was always a barrier of some sort; something that both were aware of but neither knew how to break down. She frowned. "How was yours?"
"Score one for Mars." Logan retorted drily. "That bad, huh?"
"The flight was fine. Ask your pal Dick how his flight was."
Logan's eyebrows rose. "Sounds like the work week ended on a high note at least."
"Yeah, maybe Dick's. But actually, the work week ends in about…oh…let's say, maybe, five more hours?"
Logan tilted his head. "What's happening in the next five hours?"
"Oh, just a little B and E."
A/N: I have to admit this was a hard hard hard chapter to write. I hope you are all satisfied with what I came up with. For those of you who are wondering, when I wrote a few chapters ago 4-5 more chapters. This was more a safe guard for me to not over shoot this story. At this time, it looks to be around 2 more chapters of the mystery plus whatever happens in Hawaii. I am working at wrapping this up but
Thank you again! Leave me a line if you have some time! I would love to hear what you thought of this chapter!