Title: Forty Miles from the Sun
Author: Wynn
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Veronica Mars. They are owned by Rob Thomas, UPN, Warner Brothers, etc. and are used for non-profit, entertainment purposes only.
AN: Thanks to everyone who left feedback for the first chapter! I didn't have time this week to respond back to everyone, but I did read all the lovely posts and very much appreciated them. Again, many thanks go out to Arabian and Mia for supreme betaing.
Chapter Two: Ned and Nancy Drew
By: Wynn
"You have got to be fucking kidding me."
"I wish I was," Veronica said, leaning back in her chair. "But I'm not."
Under the pretense of getting some real food into Veronica's unsettled stomach, she and Logan had gone to one of Tijuana's many restaurants so she could answer all of his questions. His five million questions. Not that Veronica blamed him for his confusion. She often found herself feeling like one of the Lone Gunman as she poured through her Lilly notes, uncovering conspiracy after conspiracy, cover-up after cover-up. It was enough to drive Fox Mulder mad, so she didn't expect Logan to understand it all right away. Still, she wished he would make the transition from confusion to acceptance a little bit faster. They had other things to worry about.
Other Weidman things.
Oh, yes, Veronica had spotted Weidman as she and Logan entered the restaurant, hidden partially by the growing afternoon crowd but unmistakable in that ridiculous Bogartian outfit of his. She counted on the hope that the Kanes would want such a delicate matter as the murder of their daughter and the disappearance of their possibly murdering son to be handled by Weidman alone and that he wasn't working in tandem with anyone else. She didn't have time to search for any other possible stalkers.
"All right. So the head of Kane security planted a bug in your room and used it to follow you to your mom, who was driven out of town by Mrs. Kane because Mrs. Kane thought your mom could destroy her and Mr. Kane's alibis."
Veronica nodded.
"And you think this Weidman guy planted another bug in your car and used that to follow us, hoping we'll lead him to Duncan, so he can get to Duncan before Duncan spills whatever it is he's remembered about Lilly's murder."
"Yes."
"Which, according to that traffic ticket you found, actually happened hours before everyone thinks it did, meaning that everyone except for you, me, and the fucking guy the state convicted for the murder could have done it."
"That's about the gist of it."
Logan popped a french fry into his mouth and slouched down in his chair. His gaze swept across the restaurant, and Veronica wondered if he was searching for Weidman. Maybe he was just looking for the nearest exit stage left sign so he could get the hell away from her and her crazy theories. But he didn't move. His gaze settled back on Veronica and he let out a deep breath. "You realize how fucking paranoid this is. Conspiracies and cover-ups and pay-offs."
"I know it sounds crazy."
"Crazy? Christ, Veronica, you think Duncan killed Lilly."
"It's not like I want to believe it," she said, preparing herself for the inevitable onslaught of righteous indignation. The big, bad Mars family once again targeting the poor, defenseless Kanes.
"You sure as hell haven't done anything in your little investigation to disprove it."
"I can't ignore the evidence, Logan! Someone paid Abel Koontz off in Kane stock so he would confess. Someone altered Lilly's official time of death to hours before it actually happened, to a time when Duncan had an airtight alibi. My dad found Duncan's soccer uniform in the dryer when he was questioning the Kanes that night, and if you think sitting down to do a load of laundry immediately after finding the dead body of your daughter is normal, then you're more disturbed than I thought."
Logan closed his eyes and ran a hand across the back of his head. He looked like she felt, sickened by what he thought but unable to let himself not think it. He mashed a fry into his plate, ground it down into the cream-colored china with fierce, fast swipes. His eyes, dark and troubled, found hers. "It's Duncan."
"I know."
"He wouldn't do this. He loved Lilly."
"Just like he loved his dad?"
Logan shook his head. "No. Not like that. Duncan loved Lilly like we did. Even if he was in some sort of seizure, he wouldn't forget that. He couldn't. There has to be some other explanation."
"Which is why we need to get to Duncan. To find out what he remembers."
Logan looked away. He shook his head again, his mouth twisted into a dark, rueful smile, and Veronica lied and told herself she wasn't panicking. What if she had misjudged him? What if he planned to tell the Kanes everything she just told him like he'd told Duncan about her files? What if Logan's opinion of her hadn't really changed at all and she let her emotions sway herself into believing, let his emotions sway her into believing that it had?
Logan tapped his hand against the table in a short staccato rhythm. His eyes cut over to her. Another beat of silence passed and then he leaned forward and said, "All right, Nancy Drew. I don't know about all this conspiracy crap, but I want to find Duncan. Before anyone else does. And I know you already have a plan for ditching this Weidman prick and finding him."
Veronica let out the breath she hadn't been holding and smiled. "Of course I do. Now, pay attention, Ned, because this plan of mine rests solely on your leather clad shoulders."
…………
They left the restaurant twenty minutes later. Veronica went left. Logan went right. And the official 'Ditch this Weidman Prick' plan went into action.
Veronica walked fast, like she had a destination in mind and little time to lose in getting there. She forced herself not to search the crowd for Weidman. She'd know soon enough whether he took the bait.
The crowd grew as Veronica approached the Avenida Revolucion. The strip of stores and booths stretching from the border to the center of Tijuana was packed full of tourists and locals alike, both enjoying a bit of bargain shopping on the warm spring day. Veronica slipped into the crowd, eased herself into the ebb and flow of the bodies, acclimated to the rhythm of the dense shopper sea. She drew in a deep breath, blew it out, drew in another, deeper, slower, held it, then exhaled.
Time to find out how good a spy she really was.
Veronica started down the strip, matching the crowd stride for stride. She stepped around, ducked behind, slipped between the crush of patrons, increasing her pace slowly as she went. She danced a nimble two step down the lane, thankful once again for being as short and flat as God made her. Faster, then faster again, darting like a hummingbird, quicker than a bee. Sliding. Smoothly. Causing no disturbance in this tiny Mexican pond. Veronica squeezed ahead of a pack of burly high school football studs heading for a pack of even burlier bikers and drew in another deep breath.
One pack went left.
One went right.
Veronica went right.
She slipped around the bikers, hiding behind their leather clad bulk, and fell into step with a family of five. She slid between them and the edge of the Avenida. Peering through a gap between the father and eldest son, she scanned the crowd for Weidman and spotted him a couple hundred feet ahead of her. He searched the spot where she had just been; his eyes darted from the football jocks to the bikers then shifted to the surrounding area. Veronica ducked back into one of the Avenida's alleyways. She sprinted down the lane, hung a right, and doubled back up the strip, this time on the outside instead of the in. Her heart pounded fast in her chest, thumping like Thumper on speed; air burned its way into her lungs as she sucked it in, one quick breath after another.
The edge of the alley appeared and Veronica skidded to a stop. She skirted along the wall of the first shop and stopped at the corner. Peeking around the edge, she searched for Weidman. She found him more than halfway down the Avenida, making his way back up toward her. He walked fast, but not as fast as Veronica had, his gaze still sweeping the crowd trying to spot her.
Veronica turned away and made her way over to the 1-D highway. She dug her green hat out of her bag and put it on, shoving her hair up underneath. Then she took off her jacket and turned it inside out, slipping into the pink courduroy, watching the sun gleam off of the black and white pinstripe lining. As she slid a pair of sunglasses on her face, she glanced back at the strip. She didn't see Weidman; she hoped he hadn't seen her.
She started off down the road, digging around inside her bag for her camera. She pulled it out and stopped to take a few photographs of Tijuana and California, trying to look like a casual tourist out for a scenic stroll. Then she continued walking, snapping as she went, keeping her eyes open for Logan and for Weidman.
A black blur streaked past her and screeched to a stop. She jogged over to her car and jumped in, Logan taking off mere seconds after she swung the passenger door shut. She glanced at him as she fastened her seat belt and said, "Well?"
"Mission accomplished, Nancy. The tires are toast." Logan reached inside his jacket pocket, pulled out her pocket knife, and tossed it to her. "He's not going anywhere for a while."
"Excellent." Veronica shook off her jacket and pulled out an untraceable cell phone from her glove box. She dialed the number for the local police department, waited for the desk officer to pick up, and when he did, she said, "H-Hello. My n-name is Celeste Weidman. I'm staying at the Hotel Palacio Azteca and I-I just found my car vandalized in the parking lot. It's just, it's just awful." Veronica sniffed and gave the officer a description of Weidman's car, keeping her voice suitably distraught. "I-I don't want to leave the car in case the vandals come back and try to steal something, but I can't get a hold of my husband. His name's Clarence and he's at the Avenida. Do you think you could send an officer to go get him? I just, I don't know what to do and I- You will? Oh, thank you so much." She described Weidman to the officer, thanked him for everything again, and promised to wait right by the car until the other officers arrived. Then she hung up.
Veronica tossed the phone back into the glove box. She took off her hat and shook out her hair. She caught Logan staring at her mid-shake, but he looked away as she looked at him. He scratched the tip of his nose, rubbed a hand over his mouth. Then he cast another look in her direction and laughed.
"What?" she snapped.
"You're like a Tinkerbelle-sized Sydney Bristow. It's-" He broke off and shook his head. His laughter melted into a delighted smile, and Veronica felt some of her irritation slip away.
"It's what?"
Logan tapped one finger against the steering wheel. His gaze flickered from the road to her face. He cocked a brow and said, "Do you really want to know?"
"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."
"Yeah, but do you really want to know?"
There was a challenge in his eyes and temptation in his voice. She couldn't not know, not now, that would be like letting him win and Veronica couldn't do that. She couldn't ever do that. So she said, "Yes."
Logan beckoned her closer. She leaned in and didn't think about kissing him. He slipped her sunglasses off of her face, looked her straight in the eyes, and said, "It's without a doubt one of the sexiest things I have ever seen." He held her eyes and Veronica's heart stopped, started, kicked up a notch at the passion she saw there in the green and the gold.
His mouth curved up into a smile as he finally looked away, and Veronica could breathe again. Well. Now she knew. Now she definitely knew. She rolled her window down and let the cool breeze wash over her. Let the cool, cool breeze wash over her. How many miles did they have left to go? Whatever the number, Veronica knew it would be entirely too many. She slipped her sunglasses back on her face and attempted to focus. Thinking Logan thoughts right now wouldn't lead to magical journeys to second star on the right. They already had a decidedly less enchanting destination in store for them, so she tried to push all thoughts of Logan and his hazel eyes out of her mind.
Far, far out of her mind before he drove her out of her mind.
God, how she wished they were there yet.
…………
"Take the next left."
"Yes, drill sergeant."
Veronica rolled her eyes at his mock salute. "If you drop and give me twenty, I'll throw in a pretty please next time."
"Would that be with or without the sugar on top?"
They'd been on the road an hour, taking the 1-D further down into Baja. Veronica had kept one eye on the road behind them, but she hadn't spotted any suspicious cars following them since their bat out of hell blast out of Tijuana. Still, she watched. Just in case. There were already too many unpredictable variables in this foreign equation for her liking, and she didn't want Weidman springing any more on her and taking her by surprise. Watching helped her stay sharp, stay focused, and staying focused on anything other than Logan Echolls was of the good.
She threw him a sidelong glance. He radiated sin like sunlight, so bright it almost blinded her. He smiled at her, and in no way did she feel like a helpless little moth drawn to his flame of lustful gazes and dirty phrases.
"Or you could just tell me where we're going," he said, bringing her back from the more gutter-oriented places of her mind.
"Yeah, so you can ditch me next to some stretch of absolutely nowhere and take off after Duncan by yourself. I don't think so, Private."
"Okay, one," he said, shooting her a look from over his sunglasses, "if I planned on ditching you, I would have done it already. In Tijuana. After you gave me the keys to your car of your own free will. And two-"
"I had-"
"And two, what would be so bad about me finding Duncan by myself? He's my best friend. I've known him longer than you have. And you are the reason he decided to go all Running Man on us in the first place." Logan paused and looked at her. His hand tapped against the steering wheel, indicating he had slipped into deep contemplation mode. Great. Nothing good ever came from that.
A minute of inspection and introspection passed and then he said, "Maybe it would be better if I talked to him first without you."
"Um, no."
"Why not?"
Veronica stayed silent. Nothing she could say would smooth Logan's rapidly ruffling feathers, so she chose to say nothing at all. She'd heard that method worked occasionally and prayed it would now.
"Veronica?"
Of course, Logan didn't subscribe to the old 'silence is golden' philosophy, so her refusal to answer him would probably piss him off as much as the answer itself would. Veronica flashed him a tight smile and said, "I just don't think it would be a good idea, all right? Can we drop this before we say something we'll regret later?"
"No."
"Way to take the mature approach, Logan."
"You're the one indulging in the silent treatment. That's not exactly the paragon of maturity, Mars."
"And getting in a fight over something stupid is?"
"Oh, so now I'm stupid."
Veronica sighed. "I didn't say that."
"No, but you did say you think it's a bad idea for me to talk to my best friend without you. What, you think I need supervision to hold a conversation?"
"Possibly. You're not exactly doing a bang up job of it now."
"Not for lack of trying, which is more than I can say for you."
"If talking to me is such a burden, maybe you should give it a rest."
"And let you off the hook? I don't think so. You can't say something like that and then try to brush it all under the rug. So what is it, Veronica, that bothers you so much? Is it the me talking to Duncan part, the me talking to him without you, or the me talking to him first that bothers you?"
"Right now, it's just the you part that's bothering me."
"Well, you-" Logan broke off as he caught sight of her face. Evidently her desire to say nothing at all didn't extend to non-verbal communication because something in her eyes clued Scooby onto the answer to this mystery of the week. "It is the me part. You don't trust me." He shook his head. "Unbelievable."
"Logan-"
"You don't trust me with my own best friend."
"It's not that-"
"Then what? What is it, Veronica? What is it about me that you-"
"I don't trust you with me, okay? You don't exactly have the greatest track record when it comes to loyalty. Especially to me."
Logan stared at her for a few beats, mouth open in shock. Then he said, "Is this about the file? Because what the hell was I supposed to do? You were investigating Duncan behind his back. He had a right to know that his ex-girlfriend, the fucking love of his life, suspected him of murder."
"And you had to be the one to tell him?"
"You sure as hell weren't."
"Because I knew something like this would happen! That he'd freak out and do something stupid and his parents would try to figure out why he did what he did, which would lead them straight back to me. Again. It's hard enough trying to find out the truth about Lilly's death without the people involved in cover up knowing my every move. And, yes, they were involved, Logan. They covered up Lilly's death, probably because of whatever Duncan remembers, and I am not going to let them get away with it. Lilly deserves better than to have her murderer go unpunished because something about her death wasn't to her parents' liking. So, no, Logan. I don't trust you. I don't trust anybody. Not with this. Not when practically everyone involved has something to hide and all the money in the world to hide it with."
An edgy silence followed her last heated words. Veronica crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head to stare out the window. Goddamn him. Why did he have to push and push and push all the time? Shouldn't he have learned by now not to push her, that he wouldn't like the consequences?
Logan laughed into the silence, but his laughed lacked any trace of humor. It was hollow, a nothingness tinged bitter from their latest knock down, drag out. "Veronica Mars, avenging angel. So what does that make me? Someone for you to use along the way to liberty and justice for all?"
Veronica sighed. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against he seat. "I don't know."
"You don't know."
"No. I know this may come to a shock to you, but Veronica Mars doesn't know everything. Especially not things that concern you."
"I thought I've made it pretty damn clear where I stand with you. Or have you forgotten what happened at the Camelot?"
She hadn't forgotten. She couldn't forget. As much as she tried to push the memories to the back of her mind, they stayed prominent, a permanent reminder that things had changed. He rescued her; she kissed him; he kissed her back. Stated like that, it all seemed so simple. But it wasn't. It was messy and complicated and new and different and made Veronica feel five million different things at once, and she didn't know how to deal with this new wrinkle in the patchwork of her Lilly-less life.
"No, I haven't forgotten, and yes, you've been very clear. You're always clear. I know exactly how you feel about me at any given moment of any given day. That's not the problem."
Logan looked at her, exasperation clear on his face. "Then what is the problem? Veronica-"
"The problem is I don't know what you're going to feel five minutes from now. Sure, you like me now. We might even be friends again. But I thought we were friends before, and look how wrong I was about that."
"We were friends before. Until you-"
"Until I what, Logan? Stood by my father when nobody else would? When I had nobody else left?"
"You still had me, and you still had Lilly. You didn't have to turn your back on us. On her."
"I didn't turn my back on her! I have never turned my back on her. What you never understood was that me standing by my father didn't mean I was betraying Lilly. If anything, I stood up for her, too, by believing my father was right about her death. And, look at this, he was. Jake Kane is involved somehow."
"So, what, Veronica? You want me to apologize? Beg for your forgiveness? I didn't know the truth then-"
"And you still crucified me." The fight drained out of her, sudden, like quicksand. She felt tired, so very tired of constantly fighting. Fighting for the truth. Fighting against the lies. Fighting Weidman and Duncan and Logan and everyone else Neptune that wanted their shot at Veronica Mars. "I'm sorry, Logan, but I can't forget that just because things might be different between us. Because you've chosen to like me again. It doesn't work that way. I don't work that way."
"Then why did you kiss me if you're having such a hard time forgetting? If you hate me so goddamn much?"
"I don't hate you," she said, her voice soft and thin like paper.
"But you don't trust me."
"I can't. I'm sorry."
"No. Not can't." His words were thick with betrayal. "You won't. There's a difference. All the difference in the world."
He switched on the radio. Coldplay came on, singing of yellow stars and beautiful bones. He was right. There was a difference. She wouldn't trust him because she couldn't, couldn't let herself trust him, not with this, not with her, not with Lilly, not now. She wished there was another way, but she didn't have any other. She only had hers, for better or worse, and right now, Veronica was knee deep in the worse and sinking fast.
Suddenly confronting a possibly homicidal ex-boyfriend didn't sound so bad. It didn't sound so bad at all.
…………
San Quintin. The fishing capital of Baja Mexico, at least according to the online brochure Veronica looked through yesterday after she tracked Duncan here to this growing tourist town. Logan swung the Le Baron off Highway 1 and drove down a short gravel road to the Old Mill Motel, one of the many tiny lodges dotting the three bays in and around San Quintin. She inspected all of the cars in the Old Mill's parking lot, searching for the grey Taurus Duncan had rented three days before.
She didn't find it.
Veronica tried to convince herself that it didn't mean anything, that Duncan could be out to dinner and that's why she didn't see his car, that he might have ditched the Taurus somewhere along the way and arrived here by some other method. Still, dread pooled cold and heavy in her stomach, and she knew they were already too late, that Duncan had moved on sometime during the night.
Logan parked before the motel's main entrance and got out; he slammed his door shut so hard he rocked the car. Veronica let out a shaky breath and followed a few moments later; if they somehow survived the night without killing each other, it would be a miracle.
They entered the lobby, a clean, comfortable relic from the 1970s. Logan headed for the concierge desk, but Veronica cut him off at the pass, sliding in front of him and placing a hand on his chest. He glowered down at her and Veronica half expected him to growl at her and bare his teeth.
"What's the problem now, Ronnie? I can't even ask what room Duncan's staying in?"
"No, not when you look like you want to kill the nice lady behind the desk and anyone else unfortunate enough to get in your way. Just try to look a little less homicidal and let me do the talking, okay? Okay?"
Logan flashed a manic, saccharine smile her way, looking even more mass murderer than he already did. "How's that? Harmless enough for you?"
Veronica didn't say anything. She just turned and walked over to the concierge desk, summoning forth her best easygoing, nothing to worry about smile. The woman behind the desk, Sophia according to her name tag, looked up from her computer and said, "May I help you?"
"Yes. I'm looking for my brother, Andy Dufresne. He's supposed to be staying here, but he forgot to tell me which room he'd be in."
Sophia keyed Duncan's Shawshank alias into her computer. She looked back up at Veronica and said, "I'm sorry. Your brother checked out this morning."
"Did he say where he was going?" Logan asked from beside her.
"I do not know. I only just started my shift. But Pedro, the day man who checked out Mr. Dufresne, will be back in tomorrow at 6. You could ask him then."
"But-"
"Thank you very much, Sophia, for all of your help," Veronica said, sending another winning smile her way. Then she grabbed hold of Logan's arm and pulled him away from the desk and out of the lobby. Logan wrenched his arm out of hers as they made their way back over to her car. He spun around and took off for the lobby again.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Logan flicked a hand over his shoulder as he said, "Away from you and that fucking car. I'm getting a room. Do whatever you want. I don't care." He disappeared into the motel, and Veronica sank down onto the hood of the Le Baron, tired, hungry, and frustrated beyond belief. Their best hope in finding Duncan lay with a guy named Pedro who wouldn't be in for ten more hours.
Wonderful.
It was going to one hell of a long night.
…………