Chapter 2

The next morning, Veronica sat halfway up underneath the bed sheet covers on her laptop wearing nothing except boy shorts and a silk cami. Hair tied up in a messy bun and dark circles under her eyes, Veronica had been awake since the crack of dawn collecting data. Her fingers tapped against keys while flying through article after article, soaking in as much information as possible.

She remembered meeting Larkin a few times in high school. A box-office mega star back then with a proclivity to drink sun tea and gamble thousands of dollars away in poker games. Veronica felt confident she knew the ins and out of his life. In the last three years alone, he met with scathing reviews and a lack of decent available jobs. Gia Goodwin was right, a pretty face (and body) could only get you so far.

Veronica was almost through a story detailing the behind scenes of a 2005 Iraq War film directed by Jeffrey Ellis starring Aaron Echolls and a young Connor Larkin. "Logan, you grew up with Connor, right? He used to live in Neptune until 2006."

Logan exited the bathroom fully dressed. His hair was slightly damp from previously taking a shower. "Back when I was still in elementary and junior high, in the years they remembered my birthday, mom would throw these ridiculous charades. The Larkins lived a few houses down. Aaron would invite them."

Loss in thought, Veronica had a flashback to Logan's last birthday. The big 3-0. Dick made him take kamikazes and a shot called a Flaming Asshole at the '09er. It was one of the rare occasions Logan with decreased inhibitions opened up about his time in the military. The emails sent during his deployments had been vague due to a confidentiality clause. A few of his navy buddies from San Diego also made an appearance that night recalling embarrassing stories of when Logan first joined. Lieutenant Echolls call-sign was Mouth, for obvious reasons and because his sarcastic wit had gotten him in trouble more than once.

Logan sat down near the corner of the bed. "What are you thinking?"

Veronica shook her head, trying to get back on track. "I have to consider all plausible outcomes." She held out a finger each time she counted another possibility. "A deranged fan, someone from his past, his doctor, his agent, another actor... If we are to assume there was foul play, the culprit could be anyone." Connor Larkin's estimated time of death had been recorded at 1:08 am. The last time Marcie received a text from Connor was 9:19 pm on May 13th. She called him twice at ten pm and twelve am to no answer. It wasn't until seven am that she stopped by the apartment and noticed Connor passed out on the bed in the clothes he wore the day before. The investigation the following morning stated clearly there were no indication of a break-in at his apartment. Nonetheless, too much time was held unaccountable.

Veronica needed to procure more details of that night. What had Larkin been up to just hours before his death? Marcie told Veronica she stayed at her own house in Beverly Hills believing Larkin had fallen asleep early.

Mac currently worked on gaining online access to Connor's medical records. Veronica's next step would be to interview Alex Webster, who conveniently lived in a mansion up in the hills in Neptune, then Greg Bua, and anyone attached to Larkin's last movie, the Husband's Revenge. She would need to attain any security cam footage from his Villa Royale penthouse apartment.

Logan could see the wrinkles between Veronica's brows forming as she bounced from theory to theory in her mind. This was her addiction, fitting the puzzle pieces back together. "If it helps, I know I didn't poison him," he wisecracked trying to infuse some lightness into the air.

Veronica sighed in relief as she playfully wiped her forehead with the back of her right hand. "Phew, I can scratch one name off my suspect list."

"In all seriousness. Promise me you will be careful if Marcie's suspicions do pan out..."

"I have my revolver just in case." Truth be told, she hadn't used it since the Dewalt-Scott case and one she rather never recall. Veronica preferred her taser above all else. The idea of hurting someone still made her heart clench. However, Veronica reluctantly practiced with Keith a number of times and eventually got pretty good at hitting the targets. Veronica surmised she no longer felt afraid to use it if under dire circumstances. Keith would never admit to being proud, but Veronica Mars had finally earned her spot in the grown up P.I. business world.

"That's still a scary thought." Logan grinned. "Remember to aim the barrel away from your face."

Veronica gave him a sarcastic look. "Ha-ha. Very funny. I might even have a better shot than you now."

He stood up. "Nonsense. I'm an excellent marksman."

She tried to not think about that statement on a deeper level. Continuing the banter, she put her laptop off to the side and folded her arms. "Let's prove it then."

"Just so I can see your face after I hit the bull's-eye five times in a row. Tuesday, at the shooting range. Let's say one pm. That is, if you can take a break from sleuthing for an hour."

"I'll be there."

*x**x**x**x*

Back at the office, Veronica called Alex Webster to set up an interview. He co-produced a serialized drama about twenty-somethings in college on the CW. The show developed a cult following despite it being trashy and poorly acted. Alex had a jammed pack schedule during the week with his precious Sundays left to relax. Yet, after much persuasion, he agreed to meet Veronica at his house at 3:30 pm.

Suddenly, her dad entered the office, surprising Veronica. In what was almost a week away in TJ, he came back successful. Keith held up a check for thirty-five hundred. "One less bail jumper walking the streets."

Veronica immediately gave him a huge hug. "Nice to have you back, Dad. An old geezer such as yourself can catch a runaway before any deputy even considers getting off his ass."

Keith squinted his eyes as he broke away from their embrace. "Hey there, you're only as old as you feel."

"And how to do you feel?"

"Exhausted." Keith took a few steps and slouched down in the chair behind his desk. A stack of files laid unopened on top. "How about you fill me in on this Larkin case over some coffee."

"Great idea except we're all out of fresh coffee. I can offer you some you some warm, yellowish faucet water."

The piping was just one of the few problems the office building suffered over the past year. Hideous taupe colored walls and furnished by thrift store couches and chairs that smelled like bleach, the waiting room, where Mac's desk situated, desperately needed a make-over.

"Hmm. How about if Mac runs..."

Keith got cut off by Mac yelling, "I'm not a gofer! Hire a real secretary if you want morning joe from Java the Hut." A few beats later, Mac again hollered. "Guys, you might want to see this!" She had been staring at her monitor for over an hour decrypting Dr. Magnusson-Lanza's online patient records.

Veronica quickly went over behind Mac's desk with Keith following suit out of curiosity. On one screen, it listed all the visitations and one medication. Hydrocodone was prescribed a month ago. There were no listing for Alphrazolam, Diazepam, or Doxylamine. "This is why I love you!" Veronica exclaimed.

"And to think, I thought it had to do with my sparkling personality and lack of people skills."

"Actually, it's the rockin' hair-cut. I'm a huge fan." Mac rolled her eyes while Veronica glanced back at the screen. "Ooh! That's interesting." She pointed to the bottom of the page. "He was taking Vicodin for his lower back."

Mac scrolled down. "That's all."

"So, it leaves three over-the-counter drugs unexplained for. We'll see what Mr. Webster has to say."

*x**x**x**x*

After Logan arrived home from his tour, the keys to the sleek BMW had been handed back to it's owner. Needing wheels, Veronica attained a good deal on a silver RAV4. A modest SUV, it didn't attract as much attention when Veronica drove to the more decrepit, impoverished areas of Neptune during stake outs. She parked the car along the side of a silver 2016 Lamborghini Huracan LP 610-5. Her car looked like a pile of rusted metal in comparison. Alexander Webster II lived in a gated community where homes were miniature resorts. Even before Alex became a successful executive producer for popular TV shows, he had always been filthy rich thanks to his trust fund.

She carried her signature studded black bag over her shoulder up the stoned pathway. The grass was neatly cut one inch above the ground. A garden of flowers were delicately managed and arranged by type. Veronica rang the doorbell twice expecting to see a butler.

A scruffy looking, dark-haired man no taller than 5'6 wearing a John Varvatos midnight blue t-shirt and jeans opened the door. The strong scent of cologne made Veronica's nostrils flare.

"Hi, I'm Veronica Mars. We spoke on the phone earlier? The private investigator Marcie hired. I was hoping to ask you a few questions about the night of May 13th?"

Alex tilted his head to the side and did a double take. Veronica wore a light green blouse and trousers and had her hair curled in a soft pinned half up-do. "Um. Right." He looked ill at ease, but gestured Veronica inside. "Come in, come in."

The house appeared straight out of a Pottery Barn catalog. The living-room walls were painted a muted yellow ochre; stained wood bookshelves, soft white couches with forest green plush pillows filled the space. A 60 inch 3D plasma HDTV stood on the back wall. Priceless art lined the hallway encased and protected inside embossed frames hung the walls. An Egyptian wool rug covered the hardwood floors. All the rich green curtains were pulled back. A glass chandelier glistened as the light hit its many flat facets.

At 33, he had a wife who was out shopping all day. The maid left half an hour ago. It was just Veronica and Alex. The two sat down at the dining-room table. A bowl of fruit acted as the center piece with two vases full of flowers cut from the garden on either side.

"Would you like anything? Some tea perhaps?"

"No, I'm good. Thank you. I just want to say first I am so sorry. I lost my best friend a long time ago." Veronica sometimes wondered what her life would be like if Lilly were alive today. So much of her anger and need for justice rooted itself in her from that incident over a decade ago.

Alex nodded briefly, showing sincerity with his eyes. "I knew Larkin since I first started out in the biz. I'm in denial." He paused and straightened up a bit. "What did you want to know that Entertainment Weekly didn't already publish?"

Veronica got out a notebook and pen. She crossed her legs. Jotting down a few notes, she inquired, "As mentioned, Marcie asked me to piece together the night before on May 13th. Where were you that evening?"

"Connor and I made plans to go to a club in downtown LA on Friday. We normally don't like those scenes, but my wife pleaded for a night out. I couldn't get a hold of Connor and by eleven, I gave up. I figured he was with Marcie and she just didn't want to go."

"What else can you tell me?"

He rubbed his chin a few times, contemplating. "The following morning, my phone went berserk. I had at least thirty missed calls. Marcie stopped by the house, slapped me right across the face. Then my wife turned on the TV. It was a mess. I never thought he'd go down that way, but I guess you never know... I just wished he'd given us all some indication of his problems. We could have helped him." Alex began chewing on one of his cuticles.

Veronica processed the information and moved on. "So, you think it was an accident?"

"What's the alternative? No note. There's no way he'd off himself not with the prospect of becoming a dad."

"Is there anyone you can think of who might have had a qualm with Connor?"

"No." He stated firmly. "None at all."

"Marcie believes what happened to Connor was homicide."

"Yeah, well she probably feels horrible for not being there Friday. Honestly, their relationship was always on and off. That's why they hadn't moved in together after all this time. I know she is devastated, but I think she feels guilty the most. Marcie would be the one to drive him away each time." Alex took a deep breath and exhaled. He had on a poker face masking his true emotions. Although, Veronica could easily tell underneath Alex felt quite disquieted by her presence.

Veronica abruptly dropped her pen and got up. "I apologize, mind if I use your bathroom?"

It caught him off guard for a moment; he simply opened and closed his mouth. He double blinked, "Second door on your right."

She didn't actually have to go, but Veronica's intuition led her to believe Alex was hiding something. She knew the guest bathroom would have nothing. She sneaked around and up the stairs to the master bathroom.

Unexpectedly, her phone buzzed. As she pulled it out of her pant pocket, she noticed Wallace sent her a text.

*Find today's newspaper. Look in the obituaries.*

That's cryptic, Veronica thought. Another victim? Connor's death notice? It would have to wait though. Veronica slipped her phone in her back pocket and opened the cabinet above the sink. The inside contained shaving cream, two razors, toothpaste, band-aids, and a few pill bottles. On the bottom shelf was Unisom Sleep, over-the-counter sleeping pills which have 25mg of doxylamine each.

Veronica crept down the stairs. Alex had been distracted by his phone. He updated his twitter account with a new tweet, #onlythegooddieyoung.

As she reclaimed her seat, Alex hadn't realized her return. "Thanks," Veronica said trying to get his attention. "Now, where was I? Oh right, I have proof that his doctors never prescribed him medications that were found in his system which confirmed Marcie's theory. Have you given him any medications, maybe Unisom? Do you believe Connor would resort to pipelines?" Veronica was spit-firing questions at him now.

"Shit. Really..." He looked dumbfounded. His left hand still grasping his phone tightly. "No. I mean, my wife uses Unisom. She has trouble sleeping sometimes. I know there's a bunch of ways someone could potentially score painkillers, though; I've never tried. Everyone is abusing them these days." He exhaled sharply. "I don't think I can help with what you're looking for."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Webster." Veronica could tell that time was up. "If you think of anything else, please don't hesitate to call."

Veronica headed toward the front door until Alex stopped her.

"Hey, wait. For what it's worth, there's is one more thing."

Veronica turned around. She met his eyes. "I'm listening."

"Connor had been seeing someone on the side."

She froze in place. "He was cheating on Marcie?"

"I don't think she knows. Connor ended it once he found out Marcie was pregnant. Like I said, Marcie and Connor were on and off. They always fought about their careers. They loved each other, but maintaining relationships in Hollywood is tougher than dealing with paparazzi." He paused. "The other woman, Katelyn something, is a writer and director. She has won tons of indie awards this past year and begins filming a new movie here in Neptune this week. Katelyn was going to have him star in it until Connor broke it off. If Marcie wasn't with him that night, she could have been."

*x**x**x**x*

Later in the evening, Veronica pushed through revolving doors. At six pm, Marcie had scheduled another meeting with Veronica at the Neptune Grand. Marcie wanted updates on every step of the investigation.

Veronica entered into the new tower which was recently built in the past couple years. Marble structures, gorgeous tiled floors, phone charging outlets every few feet, couches that felt like sitting on a cloud, and a glass-sided elevator, the updates to the reception alone were made especially to please those with a bottomless bank account. Not to mention, even tighter security measures.

Veronica took the elevator to the very top. Marcie Jacob's stayed in the one of the most expensive suites out of the entire hotel. She knocked on the door once and immediately it swung open. Marcie had just hung up on a phone call when she welcomed Veronica in. "I am so glad you're here."

"Really?" Veronica asked as she took a few steps into the luxurious apartment. Marcie hid behind her heavily applied makeup. Veronica knew if she hadn't come over, Marcie probably wouldn't have gone through the trouble.

"Yes, of course, especially after having the longest conversation with Connor's mother on where to have the funeral and other arrangements. She's a wreck. I can't handle that aspect, yet." The two plopped down on the couches in the middle of the room. "Anyway, how did speaking with Alex go? Give me the run-down."

"There's a lot of time not accounted for during the night Connor was at his apartment supposedly alone. Alex gave some helpful tidbits, but nothing I could really go on except..." Veronica hesitated. Should she be the one to tell a pregnant woman her late boyfriend cheated on her a mere week or so ago?

Marcie stared at Veronica with pursed lips. "Except what?"

"Do you know a director named Katelyn or something?"

"Yes." She said matter-of-factly. "I know what you are about to disclose. I'm fully aware Connor made some mistakes, but I got even."

Veronica's eyebrows raised. Did she just hear a confession?

Marcie shook her head catching on. Her brows furrowed. "Oh please, you know what I mean. I made out with his friend, Greg Bua, in front of him and then took Greg back to my place."

"Oh." What a little incestuous group, Veronica thought. It oddly rang a bell. "Do you think Katelyn would have motive?"

"She's talented on paper, but in real life her mental state is debatable."

Veronica had a lot to mull over. The two continued to chat for a few more minutes. Marcie, truthfully, enjoyed Veronica's company and the pain of losing Connor abated marginally.

She was gathering her things when Veronica remembered Wallace's message from earlier. "Marcie, you wouldn't by chance have today's paper?"

"Actually, I do. Picked it up downstairs." Marcie ambled toward the the nightstand in her bedroom. She came back and handed it to Veronica. "What are you looking to find?"

"Not sure exactly." Veronica opened up the newspaper and turned over a few pages. After she reached the Obituaries, her eyes shifted around scanning each name until she found what Wallace had implied. She gasped audibly. No fucking way..., She re-read the specific obituary one more time.

...

On the way down the glass-sided elevator, Veronica, distracted by what she just read, bumped straight into Trina. She had a script in her hand.

"Ver-on-i-ca," Trina announced sounding out every syllable. "What do I owe this pleasure?"

Veronica responded irritably, "Trina, hi. I was just speaking with Marcie Jacobs."

"Oh my God. Marcie Jacobs?" Trina's eyes widened in shock. "The Marcie Jacobs? Get out, she's staying at the Neptune Grand?"

"Yeah..." Veronica's voice trailed off. A new thought popped into her brain. "By the way, Trina, the film that you've been cast in, who's the new up-in comer-director attached to the project?"

"Katelyn Renner. She's fab. A true visionary."

The cosmos must have aligned today for Veronica. "You know, we should catch up while you're in town. Maybe, I can meet up with you on set for lunch?"

"That would be so great!" Trina gave Veronica the location and a time for tomorrow.

Veronica smirked. Just like that, a few pieces to the jigsaw puzzle started to come together.