Chapter 10
The sun shone brightly in the sky. No clouds. The breeze rolled in gusts allowing the office much need fresh air. It was a beautiful day out like all the others. Yet, there would always be a darkness to Neptune. A black hole amongst the breathtaking scenery. Most never got out and some only escaped by the skin of their teeth. Veronica realized many of her disfranchised classmates stayed in their disreputable hometown. Survivors, she called them. Elite 09ners returned after college only to live in mansions with five-car garages and act like they walked on water while the rest of the inhabitants suffered. Veronica stood somewhere in the middle associating with both classes seamlessly when necessary.
Sean was different. Years of deceit and climbing the social ladder, he finally succeeded in what he always tried to make others believe. The pompous ass earned his status and now truthfully resided in the 90909 zip code.
Sarah McCauley-Wakefield was a definite dead end. Sean Friedrich became a new prospect. Last she checked, Sean had done well for himself directing music videos for mainstream DJs and pop princesses. After all, he did direct Bonnie DeVille's top singles. A dealer since high school, Sean could distinguish the cokeheads from the pill poppers. He would have a plethora of connections especially from working in Tinseltown.
A monotonous routine, Veronica searched again for any other information she could unearth on Katelyn Renner. A paranoid, high-strung workaholic, Katelyn was her prime suspect. The director's relationship with the actor did not end amicably. It made sense if Katelyn knew Sean as well. He had a scandalous public affair that made tabloids and a reputation. Factoring in Leah Vance created confusion. Veronica had a feeling Connor and Leah were set up as accidents for more than one reason. The motive to kill Connor made sense from a twisted, demented perspective. Why Leah? What did she witness?
Questions flooded her conscious. Veronica swiveled her leather chair to face Keith needing his opinion. Having been so immersed in articles and photographs, Veronica forgotten her father left an hour ago to meet with a client who believed the CEO of the company where he worked embezzled multiple times to fund personal vacation trips. The office all to herself, she let her mind wander deep in thought. She leaned back and placed her feet on top of the desk. Sean Friedrich would hardly be forthcoming with information. Veronica needed leverage. Blackmail.
Veronica devised a surefire way to get what she wanted at the club. She took out his business card and called the number listed.
A little while later, after orchestrating the plan, a few floorboards creaked announcing the visitor. "You look constipated." Mac indicated as she took a seat across from Veronica's desk. "I hear daily fiber intake will sort that all out."
Frustration was evident on her face. Veronica sat upright, smoothed out the wrinkle that formed between her brows, and let her shoulders relax. She drew a long breath. "Prescribe me some answers instead, Doc."
"Bad news, I'm all out of those until next shipment, just a dose of some speculation will have to do."
Veronica snapped her fingers. "Darn."
"Just thought you should know I hacked into Katelyn's private Twitter account." Mac grinned quite merrily. "Found it hard to read. So many hash-tags."
"And?" Being hated by half the town usually didn't lend itself to a lot of Facebook friends and followers. Veronica stayed clear of social media even during her years in New York. Although she'd made up plenty of fake profiles for cases, the appeal of hash-tags was loss on her. "Anything suspicious?"
Mac pulled out her phone, opened the application for Twitter, and began scrolling. "On May 13th at four pm, she tweeted, 'Laying by the pool reading an amazing script. #blessed #lifeisgood #liveandletlive.'"
Veronica shook her head, irritably. "That's the only thing she wrote?"
"Yeah. Nothing on any other social platform or within the days that followed. However, on April 29th..."
"What?"
Mac cleared her throat. "1:34 pm, 'Men: Pinocchios with nose jobs #tired #movingon,' and then again at 3:13 pm, 'I will ruin your chances of success. Stars fade,' and finally at 6:02 pm, '#thedontcomebackstory.'"
"April 27th..." Veronica's eyes widened. "It would have been about two weeks before Connor's death. Marcie told Connor she was two weeks pregnant when she came into the office for the first time. He must have told Katelyn that day."
"So, she passively took out her aggression online of course."
"It's not enough to take it to Langdon, but it is something. If I could've just made that damn picture less pixelated then by his standards, it might've been enough to bring her into questioning." Who was she kidding? Veronica needed a flashing sign with a big, fat arrow pointing to the smoking gun with a taped confession attached for anyone in the Sheriff's department to move a muscle. Marcia Langdon was more helpful than Lamb, but only when Veronica handed her solid proof.
Even Mac knew it was a stretch. "You think it was her in the shot?"
"Katelyn's small. 5'4. That could have easily been her in the video. The problem is she has a bodyguard and I don't think she wants to speak with anyone outside her little film willingly."
"I guess..." Mac trailed off noticing a tall figure out the corner of her eye.
"What are we talking about?" Dick asked as he approached the girls. He stood with his hands his pockets.
In a dead pan manner, Veronica replied, "Mensies."
Dick's face scrunched up. He took a step back. "Don't mean to interrupt that but I need my laptop back."
Mac nodded, remembering she sent him a text a while ago. It literally took her all of five minutes to remove the unwanted software, but she made him wait an entire day. "Yeah." Mac rose out of her seat and entered into the waiting room. Once she grabbed the laptop from off her desk, she added, "I downloaded an anti-virus program for you. Use it."
Dick booted up his computer right there in his hands. Happy as a clown, he was able to access all his files again. He turned to Mac. "Ah, I could kiss you!"
Mac furrowed her brow. "Please, resist that urge."
"Pssh, I was just kidding. Thanks, though." He paused, recalling something to mind. "By the way, you two are invited to my Memorial Day Barbeque Bash on Sunday."
"If you paid any attention in school, Memorial Day is Monday, Dick." Veronica retorted with no intentions of RSVPing. Dick's bacchanalian parties usually consisted of an over abundance of top shelf booze and drunk 09ers. Memorial Day would be no different.
He gave her an annoyed look. "Did I mention it's for two days straight? Where's your pride? Logan's going. Really though, you two should come."
Mac glanced over at Veronica. She sighed vociferously. "My plans originally involved Logan, so I guess I'm there already." Logan's grandfather had been in the Navy and served in the Korean War. Logan also unfortunately knew another sailor who had died, a close friend. The idea was to spend time at the graveyard to pay respects and later on, Logan would cook some steaks on the grill for dinner. She assumed that would continue to happen and then the lighthearted party on the beach afterwards.
"See my Memorial Day plan involved me, Wallace, and a marathon of NCIS," Mac began to say, "but that works, too."
"Excellent. I'll put you two and Wallace on the guest list..." Dick trailed off, "I almost forgot, it's Americana theme. Free red, white, and blue shooters. Dress code for women. Bandanas, bandeaus, and bikinis are the only acceptable tops."
Veronica double blinked. "Yeah, that doesn't work for me."
"It's going to be strictly enforced. Those not following the code will be turned away."
"Ah, the day to commemorate fallen soldiers, and you throw a gigantic party to get the ladies in skimpy bathing suits trashed."
He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Wear a potato sack for all I care. See you both later."
Dick shut the door behind him.
"I think his heart is in the right place."
Veronica eyed Mac with a confused expression. "Come again?"
"At least he's acknowledging the day. Some people just think it's day off from work."
"That's probably what Dick told his conscience, too." Veronica took a sip of her lukewarm coffee out of habit. She made a displeased face. Veronica suggested a run to Java the Hut before they dug deeper into the relationships between Leah, Connor, Katelyn, and Sean. She was in for a long day of connecting the dots.
Her office at home now had a newspaper-clipping, threading people together type wall. The only difference was the pictures and information came from the internet and only covered a medium size bulletin board. Veronica found herself stuck. There was nothing else she didn't already know. Leah had filmed five movies in her life. Four were listed on her IMDB. The other one was done during her last year of high school. Not much else was found. Connor had been in over a dozen and not one had Leah featured in the cast. Connor would have never met Leah, but they both knew Katelyn through filming. Sean probably knew everyone in some capacity. He had supplied the drugs. Veronica was one hundred percent certain of that.
*x**x**x**x*
On Friday, most joints would be packed. Good reviews and rated four stars, Logan called prior to make reservations. They arrived at a little Italian restaurant right outside of West Hollywood.
A crowd of young people hovered outside the doors. Logan and Veronica pushed to the front. At the door itself, the aroma of tomato sauce and fresh baked garlic bread greeted one's nose, promising a whole range of pleasures. The hostess directed them to their table leaving two menus behind. Two smartly dressed waiters welcomed them with broad smiles. One filled up the glasses with water while the other placed a basket of freshly cut bread and a small cup of dipping oil. The overall atmosphere was nice, high beamed ceilings and deep burgundy walls painted to look cracked with gold peeking through beneath. A very intimate setting with soft lighting. The tables were closely arranged, but the wine crate stacks, which served as decor, helped to keep a little privacy.
Veronica folded her hands after placing the napkin on her lap. "This is nice."
"You can thank Zagat for the recommendation."
Hectic schedules didn't allot time for them to really enjoy a date outside of their usual places. Veronica's excitement grew as she looked at the food choices.
A waiter came back to take their orders. Veronica chose four-cheese and spinach manicotti while Logan selected pork chops stuffed with proscuitto alongside parpardelle pasta. As they waited, Veronica thought about Sean. Veronica had yet to tell Logan that she set a plan in motion to photograph Sean dealing drugs to a client and use it as coercion to get him to spill anything involving Connor. Veronica had no idea how Logan would react. This was the same Sean who had repeatedly slept with Carrie when the two were still together. There were pictures of Carrie snorting lines of coke on the internet because of Sean. Video clips of them smoking from a bong. Her downfall was what would be remembered postmortem. Sean had been Carrie's enabler while Logan acted as a default sponsor during that turbulent time. Logan had an innate desire to save and defend the women he cared deeply about. He couldn't save Carrie and despite moving on, that little fact ate at him.
"I should mention I have the I.D. on the dealer." Veronica broke the silence. "The one that makes the most sense in conjunction with Connor."
Logan sighed. "You mean Sean Friedrich?"
His response was unexpected. "How did...?"
"You leave your laptop open, Veronica."
Her mouth formed an O. "And you put two and two together?"
"I have been known to jump to conclusions on some occasions." Logan's jaw clenched. "Putting me in close proximity of him might not be such a good idea, but I'm here with whatever you need." Logan learned to keep his aggression under control. He would have never made it through the first year of training without his ability to compartmentalize. Starting out, his smart mouth alone had gotten him in enough trouble. In the back of his mind, though, he wanted to beat Sean up. Some things never change.
"I'll do most of the talking."
"It's obvious, isn't it? When I told you about Carrie's spiral?" Logan stared off into space. "Whether it was alcohol, coke, E, or anti-depressants to mask the pain. The trail led back to Sean. He knew all those circles. Musicians, actors, assistants, publicists..."
"Sorry I didn't just tell you straight out the gate."
"Don't be. Watching you hassle Sean will bring nothing but my happiness."
"If I have any say in the matter, the worm's finally going to get what's coming to him tenfold."
The corners of his mouth curved upward. "I expect nothing less."
Veronica craved the excitement of solving a case, but nothing made her more satisfied than being the one to hand out payback. She got off on it. "The need to dish out karma, it's hardwired in the Mars' DNA."
"Like blue eyes and sleuthing prowess."
"Exactly." Veronica nodded, grinning. The steaming plates of food had arrived. Her mouth watered. "Also comes with the ability to eat my weight in Italian food..."
"That's undeniably one of your many talents." Logan still found Veronica adorable like in the way she got giddy over the simplest thing as a nice cooked meal or the way her lips pursed when she tried to suppress a smile. Her tenacity only added to her charm in his eyes.
The rest of the time they resumed their talk from before. Among other things, yesterday also saw Veronica looking up information on California bar exam. Out of curiosity, not that Veronica put much thought into it. The webpage displayed July 29th, 30th, 31st as next dates to take the exam. She felt she wouldn't be able to meet the deadline. Some of her preparation for the bar seemed surprisingly still fresh in her mind; however she knew she would need to brush up. Veronica rarely had time in between her P.I. cases. Entertaining the idea was ludicrous. It would never happen. A purveyor who balanced cases and practiced law to save the depraved citizens of Neptune from corruption? There was no cape with a magnifying glass emblem or Eye of Providence in the back of her closet. Veronica wouldn't be caught in tights or metallic bustier. She was no superhero. Yet, she had bookmarked some tabs and let the notion of doing both sit on the back burner.
When they finished dessert, the waiter brought out the check. "So, everything is on me as long as you grant me one dance tonight," Logan announced.
"Mm-hm, I thought that was if you behaved like a gentleman."
"You'll have to then, twice."
The truth was Veronica had other ways of getting into the club. Her mission could have been done without Logan easily enough. The choice was made mostly out of her desire to be around him. Someone to watch her back. It was her attempt at letting him be more involved. Instead of turning into a pumpkin when the clock strikes twelve, Veronica would alternatively begin to enjoy her night or so she hoped. "Okay. After I find out everything I can, I'd like that."
*x**x**x**x*
Logan pulled up to valet parking. Once inside, not much about the hotel changed since the last time Veronica was there. The last time, she remembered, had been when Logan found out Trina was the one who used Logan's mother's credit card to book a room, solidifying the fact Lynn Echolls committed suicide. Veronica remembered the snobby concierge who had a stick up his ass. Fortunately, he was not behind the counter.
Veronica mentioned the Sunset Regent yesterday and how she took up Marcie's offer of a two-night stay. She now felt uncomfortable. Out of all the hotels, this just happened to be the one Marcie won? Logan didn't say anything, maybe he had forgotten. Veronica took a deep breath as she checked them in. They took the elevators up and entered their suite.
"It only took a decade to finally see a room." Logan remarked surveying his surroundings. The suite had marble counter tops, a nice kitchen nook, a crystal chandelier, and a large living area with comfy couches. He seemed unimpressed. "It's decent."
Veronica stopped dead in her tracks. "You remember?"
"That was a rough week." He didn't say more on the subject.
"It it helps, it was an offer I would've refused if not for Marcie."
"Why?" He smiled reassuringly. "If memory serves, for the most part we have a great track record when it comes to hotel rooms." Logan tried not to dwell on the past. The last time he was here in this specific hotel, he couldn't feel anything but numbness. The pain of losing his mother had overwhelmed him. Not now, not when he was standing next to Veronica. He took a couple of steps toward her. Logan gently tilted up her chin and gave her a quick kiss. "It's just a place. It's who's there that matters."
"If that's your subtle way of saying you want to—"
Logan gave her a sideways glance as he cut off. "Not even in the slightest." There was a glint in eyes.
Yeah, right. "In any case, we should get ready."
Almost an hour later, Veronica finally walked out of the bathroom in a skin tight, revealing red dress that hugged her hips. Veronica's blonde hair fell below her shoulders in soft curled waves. Flawless skin, smokey eyes, red lips, she looked incredible. Black high heels and a simple diamond drop pendant finished out the costume.
Logan usually wasn't left speechless. No one else, not Lilly or Carrie, had that same effect on him. Unable to form words, his mouth hung slightly open. He could only think of one thing.
Ever since junior year of high school, Veronica ceased giving a shit about what people said about her. She had no more grand allusions. She became self-assured all on her own. For someone who knew how to use her looks for a case, something about the way Logan was staring at her made her anxious, embarrassed even. It was as though he saw right past the dress and makeup. He made her genuinely feel naked.
Veronica thought back to a quote from 1984, "Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood."
Logan Echolls had always understood her, what made her tick, even when she didn't know it herself.
She glanced down at the her garment. "Too much? I don't want to look like your high-end escort." Veronica quipped instead of just being honest with her feelings.
Logan, dressed in a navy button down shirt and form fitting dark jeans, shook his head. Words escaped his mouth, "I want to tear you out of that right now and lift you on top of the bed and—"
"With that response, I guess so?" Veronica interjected, half smiling. "I should start charging."
Logan's senses came back to him. "Let's just say for the benefit of mankind, if looks could kill...you know the rest."
Veronica rolled her eyes, but it was exactly what she wanted to hear.
There was that magnetism which drew Logan to her. He grabbed her hip and pulled Veronica closer to his body. Her cheeks flushed crimson. A shot of adrenaline pulsed through his veins.
A few minutes to kill, she anticipated his move allowing his tongue to lunge inside her mouth. The kiss passionate and relentless. A devilish grin flashed across his face. Their lips parted. They both stood staring at each other.
"You're not so bad, yourself." Veronica placed her arms around his neck and reciprocated. He deepened the kiss. Her hands reached into his hair as he cupped her cheeks. His mood was infectious. "Okay, okay," Veronica caught her breath. She gathered her hair to one side and pointed to the zipper. "Help me hook the back so we can get moving." Veronica had a job to do. Although, this was a detour not necessarily unwanted.
Logan captured her hand and spun Veronica around. His hand gently slid over the little hook and down the small of her back. Instead of listening to her request, he began to unzip.
"Stop, we'll going to be late." Her heart thudded like a drum.
Logan knew how unreadable she could be to most people. Her infamous poker face could not be beat. Yet, it only took him some careful consideration before he sensed precisely what she wanted or didn't want. They understood one another without dialogue; banter was just foreplay. Logan watched her reactions. Veronica expressed better through touch than words and Logan knew her body language went against what she vocalized. She was pressing up against him, wanting more unable to resist. He pursued.
"No one shows up before eleven to those types of places, anyways," he whispered in her ear.
"I thought learning to follow orders was something they taught you on day one?"
Logan froze. "You want me to stop?" Veronica didn't answer and a second later, she felt his lips against her neck once again.
The dress now fully unzipped, she faced Logan. "It's already ten thirty," Veronica meagerly stated as her defense.
"I'll be quick." He gave her a mischievous, lopsided smile.
"Really?" She chuckled and responded playfully, "How unlike you."
"I meant driving."
"What if Sean leaves before..." As she kept talking, her hands began to unbutton his shirt.
"You worry too much."
"Someone in this room should."
Although, Veronica didn't remember the steps getting there, they were already in the bedroom. Her dress somewhere on the ground, his shirt by the door. Finally succumbing to the yearning in her gut, she tugged on his belt, slid it out of the loops of his dark washed jeans and pulled down the rest. He unclasped her bra. Their breathing shallow. Logan and Veronica both collapsed on the fluffy mattress before he could finish his thought.
"My hair will come undone." Her legs straddling him, Veronica gave him another peck on the lips. "They won't let in a hot mess and it took an hour for my hair to look this good."
"I like it either way."
"You're also bias."
He left a lingering kiss. An insatiable mixture of love and lust between them. Their heartbeats racing in tune with each other.
"Mm-hm, you're a bad influence."
"Guilty." He placed his lips softly against Veronica's skin near her collarbone which finally shut her up. He rolled over on top of her, breathing in her intoxicating strawberry and marshmallow scent.
She gave in, admitted defeat. Passion winning over reason.
Time slipped away. Taking a huge breath for air, Veronica finally noticed the alarm clock. "Shit, it's 11:05. We gotta go." She shot up and scrambled to put her dress back on. Veronica smoothed out her disheveled hair. "Shame on you!"
"Shame on me?" Logan chuckled, bemused. His arms behind his head, he lay still on the bed half under the sheets. A smirk clearly etched on his face. "I'm positive you enjoyed that twice as much."
Veronica threw his shirt at him though not without getting a glance at his tone abs. There were a few superficial things she could thank the Navy for. "Get dressed, Casanova." She tried to act nonchalant, but her blushing cheeks and wry smile gave her away. When her brain began to think rationally again, Veronica still had to force herself out of that bed.
Logan gradually sauntered over to pick up his pants which were now wrinkled. He flipped up a hand to salute, mockingly. "Yes, Ma'am."
*x**x**x**x*
Vintage Nightclub in West Hollywood was best on Fridays. A few posters with a Polaroid camera and the acronym, FBF covered the back wall. Flashback Fridays, a night where the elite could go dance or lounge while listening to throwbacks and sipping on overpriced drinks.
Logan sighed. "Get your game face on, Mars."
Veronica checked the rear view mirror one last time. She placed a few fly-away strands behind her ears. She examined Logan. Inching closer, Veronica rubbed lipstick residue off his neck. "It's showtime."
Logan exited the car first, opening the door for Veronica. He offered her a hand. Veronica took it and swooped up her purse with the other. He then put his arm around her waist and gestured her away from the flashing lights.
The first thing Veronica noticed was a sharp-eyed doorman who glanced up and down the ladies in line. A few cameras were snapping pictures. Veronica ignored them and whatever they were shouting at Logan. He led the way to the rope on the left. They wandered down until they met with a tall, tattooed guard with a clipboard and a list of names. After speaking with Greg, he helped them get VIP. Once the two were inside, Veronica soaked it all in. As she entered the joint, her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Bright spots of neon wired bulbs blinking different colors stood out, illuminating faces while others disappeared.
An immense hall enveloped by old-world charm, towering velvet curtains and dark wood. A sophisticated lounge with stylish couches and chairs; there were intimate areas to dine. In the main room was a large dance floor with an elevated DJ booth spinning a remixed song from the late 80s. Multiple over sized bars, constant chatter at booths with bottle service. This wasn't what Veronica was expecting until she recognized the private, VIP rooms sectioned off by curtains and guarded by men in all black with ear pieces. These areas anyone could easily get away with using drugs and have the rest of the club be none the wiser. Sean Friedrich was behind one. Veronica got out her iPhone.
*Here. Finally. I'm gonna go with curtain #1?*
Almost instantaneously, Greg messaged back, *Not sure. Bouncer looks like a deformed Channing Tatum.*
Veronica couldn't spot the bouncer fitting that description. The sectioned off areas were spread out. "Okay, lets split up. The goal is to see who can find the Channing Tatum look-alike standing by the VIP sections first."
Logan nodded, happy to comply. "One of the guards?"
"Yeah, do you see him?" Logan had a good foot over Veronica's short stature. He could see above plenty more heads than her. Logan scanned the spots illuminated with some light.
He grabbed her hand again and led her over to the one side near the lounge couches. "No, but there's someone else I recognize." Logan kept his eyes on him. The man stood, fidgeting with his hands. He was in the middle of a conversation with a waif-like woman with spiky short brown hair wearing a sequin dress. It didn't take good lighting to notice the man was high.