I DO NOT OWN VERONICA MARS! SUE ME AND I SUE YOU RIGHT THE HELL BACK!

Chapter 9- But You Force Yourself To Look Away.

Recap...

The next day, we did go to the concert. It was so utterly dull. The music was okay, I guess, but we left early. I had Meg drop me off at Logan's and she left for Duncan's suite. We both decided it was what we needed, and our parents were letting us miss Monday anyway...

And that's how I woke up the next morning next to Logan, my head on his chest, and his arms around my waist, pulling me tightly to him.

NOW

I shift slightly, my throat dry and raspy with that just-woken-up feeling in it. Logan tightens his grip on my waist, and I gulp to clear my throat.

"Logan, I have to go to the bathroom," I tell him, my voice groggy.

"That's Veronica-speak for 'I have to get dressed and bolt'," he informs me as I feel his mouth kissing my head.

Is there such a thing as Veronica-speak? Damn I'm good!

"That's Veronica-speak for 'I have to get dressed and pee'. No bolting."

"Promise?"

Why does everyone always think I'm going to run. I thought I was supposed to be fearless in the eyes of my peers.

"Promise," I assure him. "Plus, you're the one that should be getting dressed. You have school."

I move from his grasp and reach for a shirt of his and pull it over my head. I walk over to the adjoining bathroom, grabbing my duffel.

"Am I missing something? Last time I checked you went there too," Logan calls through the door.

"Not today. My dad and Meg's parents called us in sick. We are supposed to be driving home from L.A remember?" I call as I pulled on some fresh jeans.

"That's right. So wait, if your dad saw you pulling out in Meg's car, won't it be weird pulling up in mine?" he asks. "Oh wait, I forgot for a second. You're Veronica Mars."

Hell yes I am! I think my boyfriend would know me better than that. Of course I have a game plan.

"Yes, I'm sure you thought I was just another femme fatale that you picked up through your nightly ventures," I retort wistfully. "You are inviting Mike, Emmett and JB over today. I'm going to call my dad in about an hour, from the hotel, and tell him that Meg and I are grabbing breakfast at a diner before hitting the road. I managed to get the staff to allow us to check out over the phone."

"That's my girl. Can I guess the rest?" Logan asks as I put some Aquafresh on my toothbrush.

I spit. "Shoot."

"You call you're dad from a motel bathroom, traffic is horrible. You're going to stop for lunch a little later. You shouldn't be back 'til mid-afternoon, and Meg is going to drop you off here. You already texted me, and I'm fine with it. To back it up, you'll actually send me the text to show the guys, that way they invite themselves along. The beauty of them being over protective of you."

Well then. I guess he does know me well enough to know I have a game plan. Seems like he actually knows me enough to know my game plan.

"And if they don't, I'll text you saying something like 'Sure. We can have a little fun.' And then you'll text back, 'Nice try. I was thinking you could invite some people. Make it a party'. If they do, I'll just text you that they want to tag along. Then the guys drive you home, making your father think you are still his perfect little angel."

I lean against the doorframe, his back to me. He pulls his shirt over his head and I close my eyes.

Honestly, I have no regrets about what happened last night. I do love Logan, and I don't want to die thinking of what could have been. And with my track record, who knows when that will be.

My eyes snap open again when he snakes his arms around me again.

"The maids here all day incase you want anything. She'll be here around eleven." He kisses the top of my head. He starts to whine playfully. "Do I have to go?"

"Yes," I tell him.

"Why?"

The plan only works if you're at school dum-dum.

"Because I have work to do. Work that won't get done with you around."

"I have no problem with that," he laughs as he leans down to kiss me. I let him but then pull away slightly.

"But see now, I do. Besides, what fun will you be when you have a bullet in the most prized part of your anatomy?"

"Prized to me or you?" he waggles his eyebrows.

"Well, if you go to school, I promise you will get your answer. Later."

He kisses me again, salutes and leaves. I take out my laptop and get to work, making the calls as necessary.

It's weird. Okay, so Weevil gets a call that says Curly Moran staged the crash. Curly and Aaron are buddies, and Aaron would like to off Duncan and me. But he also has his son on the bus. And his friends. So what does he want with that? Play the grieving father like Jake Kane did? Isn't Logan a character witness? Aaron did beat Logan. He has the scars to prove what a violent psycho his "father", and I use the term loosely, is.

A shudder goes through my spine as I remember the scars I saw only a few hours ago. It would explain why Logan always wears a wetsuit top over his swim trunks.

The first thing Logan and I did after Aaron was in his cell, and Logan was cleared on bail, was burn all of Aaron's belts. Lilly must have known about it. She's seen, and felt, Logan's back before. And still she ... she had an affair with the ass.

Another shudder goes through me. I hate having to think of my friend like that.

But none of this explains why Curly had my name on his hand. To discredit me? And who killed Curly? Weevil said they were stopped by headlights before they went that far.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts as my cell rings. It's JB.

Why on Earth would he be calling me? I just sent the texts to Logan. The boys invited themselves.

"Hey JB. What's up? We just stopped for gas," I lie nonchalantly.

"Right. Sure," he says disbelieving. "You're a big girl Veronica, it's fine with me. But that's not why I'm calling."

"What is it then?"

"I just met with this girl. She was having trouble with her voicemail right? She changed the password to random numbers like her carrier suggested, but she forgot it."

I scoff.

Typical 09er girl.

"So I fix it for her, listening to her voicemail to make sure I got it right. She said it was fine, and I forwarded it to you. Veronica, this girl got a call from her friend right before the bus went off the cliff. Her name is Michelle. The message was from her friend Rhonda. Madame Sophie from that show, uh, 'Answers from Angels', supposedly contacted Rhonda about it. I don't know, I'm no you."

"Sounds like you are. I'll check it out. What's so specail about this message anyway?" I ask, thinking it's just some ditzy message from friend to friend.

There's a pause. When JB speaks again, he sounds shaken up. "You'll know when you hear it Veronica. I'll see you later alright."

He hangs up and I check my messages. I listen intently.

"Michelle, why aren't you picking up, you big loser? I can't believe you bailed on that field trip without telling me."

JB this is nothing special. Boring even. What are you doin-

"Hey, about next weekend --"

BANG! Screaming. BANG!

"Oh God!" Rhonda screams.

I push the button to save the message and run to the bathroom. I start to heave, and I flush the toliet.

This is all the evidence we need.

I wash my face. I put the new information into my computer. I walk out of the room and sit on the lawn chair outside, letting the sun calm me. My phone rings again.

"Hello?" I answer irratably.

"Veronica Mars? It's Jackie Cook."

"How in the hell did you get this number and what do you want?"

"My credit card was stolen and someone maxed it out before giving it back."

Fine. Avoid the first question. I'll find out.

"And? Report it."

"I did. They erased the charges. But that's not what I'm worried about. I want to know who it was. My friend, Cora, borrows my stuff all the time. It's like she doesn't have clothes of her own and...well, I noticed my card was missing after I went shopping with her, then I found it in my car like someone had deliberately put it back. I don't want to just accuse her."

"Cora Briggs?" I ask.

I know that name. I used to be friends with Cora. Kind of.

"Yeah, that's her."

"When were the charges made?"

"Let me get the list." Paper shuffle. "Okay, the fourteenth of October, the thirteenth, tenth, fifth, and the first of this month."

I know where Cora works. I saw her one afternoon on her break a long time ago, getting dinner with my dad. On the tenth. She was working all day. She told me.

"She didn't do it. Couldn't have, I saw her on the tenth all day long. And why should I even help you?" I ask, finally realizing who I'm talking to.

"I'm Mike's lab partner."

"Goody for you."

"If I'm distracted, and I don't do well, then Mike doesn't do well. He's your friend. Don't you want him to get good grades?"

"Mike could carless about his grades."

"Colleges don't."

Damn.

"I'll look into it," I growled as I hung up.

I sleep the next hour before the guys pull up. I grab a bottle of ice tea and sit next to Logan as Mike and Emmett set up the video game.

"You aren't going to beat him. Just give up," I tell Logan as JB rests in his armchair.

"Aren't you supposed to be on my side?" Logan feigns hurt.

"Only when you're right."

"Listen to your girlfriend, man. We wouldn't want you to lose in front of her," JB mocks.

And the battle ensued. I laid my head in Mike's lap, my legs in Emmett's on the couch. It got down to JB winning by thirty points. The boys leave Logan and me to pull up the cars.

Awesome how I can get them to clear out for a little bit of privacy with my boyfriend.

JB drives me in his car and Emmett and Mike ride in the Hummer.

"You heard it?" he asks when we're alone.

"Yes." I answer shortly.

"You need Q on this mission, just give me a ring."

Well, there it is. I know, I'm drifting soooo far away from the plot it's not even funny, but whatever. My story, my rulez! I do love my Grayson boys though. See how I like to work them in? Lol. Q. Ahhh, Q. Has anyone seen that new James Bond? Who in the hell makes James Bond BLONDE? Are they cracked? Geez!

Anyway, luvs to my beta, Lover159. Give her the props. We won our soccer match Thursday, and I played foward. I can't play foward. I am a midfielder. But my friend found her perfect position, so all is good.

Magic Pie says: Review. It's good for your colon. Don't you want a good colon? Alright, so maybe not. But it does make sure the writer doesn't go on hiatus and finish her novel, All The Best Psychos Have Mommy Issues. Only about 5 more chapters and an epilogue left! Well, 5 until my scatterbrain comes up with a bigger and better way to end it. Or prolong.