To Jacedes: Her resolve may last longer than you think. Which is not to say that it will last forever. There is one more piece of Mars vs. Mars dealt with in passing here, and then we're on to the gap between Mars vs. Mars and Russkie Business. It may be a long gap.

Disclaimer: It belongs to Rob Thomas. I'm just borrowing them for the moment.

X X X X X

"Logan Echolls?" Wallace asked in disbelief at lunch the next day.

"Uh-huh," I said between bites.

"Has a crush on you?"

"Uh-huh."

"And he swears to 'make you his'."

"Uh-huh." I couldn't help myself; I started laughing.

"You're enjoying this way too much."

"I don't think there's any such thing as enjoying this too much."

"You're not tempted, are you?"

"By Logan? Not a chance. But I'm glad we've been able to come to a sort of truce. It's also good to know that my womanly charms are so powerful that I can ensnare even those who hate me, without even trying."

"God knows I've never been able to resist you."

I laughed again, knowing exactly what he meant. "And you'd better never start."

Logan appeared behind Wallace just then carrying a pizza. "Are my ears burning?" he asked in his typical tone. "Are you two talking about me?"

"Yup," I said. "But don't worry," I whispered. "Your secret's safe with Wallace."

"You don't have to keep it a secret. I'm not planning to." Logan moved around, put the pizza down on the table, and said, "Wallace would be you, then. I'm sure Veronica's told you all about me. Most of it's true." And then he held out his hand. Wallace, a little bemused, shook it. Then Logan sat down. "Want some pizza?"

"Uh-oh, Veronica," Wallace said, "He knows your weaknesses."

"Yes," I said, fluttering my eyelashes and using my best faux-Southern accent. "I just go mad for any man who buys me cheese-covered bread." I did take a slice, though. So did Wallace.

Of course, it did occur to me that just by sitting down with me in public Logan was making a pretty big statement. Which I appreciated.

It occurred to Dick Casablancas and Madison Sinclair, too, as they passed by. "Didn't realize you'd taken up charity work," Madison said. "You know, feeding the skanky."

Dick chimed in with, "Yeah, dude, what's up with this?"

Logan said, "Madison. Never a pleasure. And Dick. What is up with this is that I'm having lunch with a friend. A friend who can do more than discuss video games, surfing, and whose ass they plan on tapping this weekend. Not that those aren't a few of my favorite things. But it does kind of get monotonous."

"This is Veronica Mars you're talking about, right?" Dick said in disbelief.

"Right. Veronica Mars. The tiny charming blonde woman right in front of you. Wave to the nice folks, Veronica." I waved enthusiastically. Madison looked like she'd just been told to go muck out the stables. Though she always looks like that.

Then he made a production of turning to Wallace and said, "So. What do you do for fun?" When Dick started to protest, Logan made a dismissive gesture with his hands while continuing to stare directly at Wallace. "Shoo, shoo."

They left. After he and Wallace talked for a minute, he looked at me and said, "So. How's the campaign going so far?"

"A good start, Echolls. Still not going to work, though."

"Mmm-hmmm." We kept eating the pizza.

X X X X X

That day after school, I dropped in on Abel Koontz and let him know that I was in on his little secret. Then I headed home.

Over the course of the day, I'd tried to come up with a stratagem for getting a look at dad's evidence file. He'd no doubt changed the combination again; I didn't know any safecrackers; and he was smart enough to see through any fake reason I might come up with.

So I decided to ask him flat out.

Novel plan, huh?

I wasn't planning on telling him the truth. Not the whole truth, anyway. Logan was innocent, I was convinced of it, but this would make him look guilty.

I was in the middle of preparing dinner when dad got home. Tacos, this time. My cooking skills are all over the place. I can't make a cake hold up to save my life, but I can bake the best damn snickerdoodles this side of, well, wherever it is they make better snickerdoodles. A simple dinner isn't out of my league.

We discussed our days -- I explained what I'd been doing for Logan, having never gotten around to giving him the complete details. He spat out his water when he heard about the Aaron Echolls Playhouse. I told him Logan was planning to burn the place to the ground with the tapes inside.

"Good," he said. "I never really liked Aaron Echolls, sweetie, even when I was trying to track down who was stalking him. He seems to have fit the definition of 'not a nice person.' Did he ever, um, try anything --"

"Seeing as you're not on death row, I'd say not." I was exaggerating, but not by much. Dad might not have killed him, but he would have beaten him up, movie star muscles or not. It was one of the reasons I'd never confided to him that I'd been raped. The murder of a police officer is a serious offense, even as contemptible a human being as Don Lamb.

We ate for a bit longer and then I brought up the shot glass, and explained that Lilly had collected them. "This is just something I heard around school, without even trying -- that there was a shot glass and a note left in Lilly's car by someone who may have some connection to what happened."

"Or may have killed her, or may have had nothing to do with it at all," Dad said.

"True. Which is why I'm not making a big deal out of this until I know whether there's anything to it. If there is, I'll find out who it is and tell you flat out. And you couldn't do the investigation as well as I could because you don't know these people. And --"

"Okay, you can see the list."

"I can?"

"Sure." He stood up, came over and put his arm around me. "See how much easier these negotiations are when you tell me the truth?"

After we cleaned up, we headed over to Mars Investigations, where he made me stand outside his office with the door closed while he opened his safe. "Feeling the trust," I yelled through the door.

"I'm sure you are, honey," he shouted back. He came outside and showed me the list.

The shot glass was on it. The note wasn't. "That doesn't surprise me," Dad said. "If there had been any kind of note I would have found the writer."

"If you'd had the chance," I grumbled.

"I wasn't fired the next day," he said. "Anyway, you'll tell me what you find out?"

"You know it," I said. If Lilly had hidden the note, I knew where it would be. Getting to it was another matter.

After I got home, I called Logan and told him I was coming over.

"Giving up already, Machiavelli? Maybe I was wrong about you being a challenge."

"I'm not raising the white flag this soon," I said.

He said in mock triumph, "That means you will raise it someday. I'm winning you over!"

"Hardly," I said, laughing. "I just want to see the tape drawer."

Logan greeted me at the door when I got there and escorted me straight through to the poolhouse.

The fan had been ripped from the ceiling, and the bed and the statue were gone. "Love what you've done with the place," I said.

"Yeah, I was thinking of putting in a dog racing track, but darn those pesky zoning laws."

I went to the drawer and opened it. It started in April 2003 and ended in January 2004, with only a few breaks. He must have been taking a vacation from moviemaking then.

Let's see now, what dates were the missing tapes from? The first one before the gap was dated early September, 2003. The next one after the gap was the second week of October . . .

Oh my God.