A/N: This chap is not Beta'd, to which I apologize to Lover159 and my readers. I just felt so guilty I wanted to speed it up. Really, I'm sorry.

Chapter 12- Our World Is Waiting for Us to Live

The next day I meet Logan at Dick's locker. I'm still pissed about what happened with Weidman yesterday. I just can't wait until I bring that man down a few pegs.

"If you drink it, you get a shirt," Dick says enthusiastically.

Logan sees me and kisses my forehead. "I don't know man."

"Drink what and get what shirt?" I ask puzzled.

"I don't think we want to know," Logan half jokes.

"It's a shrimp and he's saying 'Eat me.' It's awesome, we gotta go," Dick encourages.

"You know, when they lock you up, you might want your girl here to bring you cigarettes and toilet paper," a voice says from behind us.

Weevil comes out in front of us. "You are going to get locked up eventually, whit boy."

Oh Weevil.

"I've been acquitted. I didn't kill your tight leather buddy," Logan rolls his eyes.

And then jackass has to go and make it worse.

"Hey, he won't be the first murder," Weevil sneers. "It's in your blood."

Logan gets defensive but I squeeze myself between the two. "Weevil, just go. Logan didn't kill Felix, and you know it. Only a moron like Lamb would believe that Logan could stab someone while he was knocked out and bloodied up. It's your own damn fault for trying to kill him. You're lucky you didn't get charged with attempted murder. Just leave."

Weevil glares at me before leaving. I know that Weevil wouldn't hurt me, but I still can't help to worry sometimes.

"Whoa, little chick got fire," Dick compliments.

"How are you boys going to drink now? I thought Lamb found your fake IDs when he took you in custody?" I change the subject quickly.

"Enbom made us some new ones," Logan shrugs as we walk down the hall.

"He got 'em, I saw 'em, and they're awesome. But, I guess we're all from Rhode Island, so remember, we're tourists," Dick informs.

Wait! Bulb! Light on!

"You think it's a bad idea?" Logan asks.

"I think I could have gotten you better ones," I kid. "I have to go take care of some things."

I kiss him goodbye and run down to the Journalism room. I take out my phone and dial Dawn's number.

"Dawn, it's Veronica Mars. Um, so when you and Amelia went on the Booze Cruise last year she was only twenty, she must have had a fake ID," I hint.

"Uh, yeah, she did. I think she took her cousin's ID," Dawn tells me.

"What's her cousin's name?" I ask, pulling up the PryingEyez website.

Margot Schnell.

A list pulls up of her history. Her college, her previous address, student loan, a speeding ticket and……………

Bingo. Rented a car at the San Diego airport last week.

That Night

"Alright, what do I have to get and take to you, Dick, and Duncan down at Senor Shrimp?" I ask as I unlock the front door to Logan's house.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need a change of clothes……A waiter spilt tacos and nachos all over me," Logan replies into the phone.

"Tacos, nachos, that rhythms!" I joke.

"Ha ha. Could you please just get my clothes down here? I look like an idiot."

Just stand next to your bud Dick. He should make you seem like Einstein.

"I'll see you in a few. Bye!" I hang up cheerfully.

I walk upstairs and into Logan's room. I grab a duffel bag I know he keeps under his bed and take out a pair of jeans and a Tee from the bureau. All of a sudden, I hear motorcycles and a crash, like glass breaking. I move to Logan's window and see a burning bottle in the pool house. The sounds of the motorcycles fade away and the flames erupt. I reach for my cell phone again and call Phil, the fire chief.

"Phil, its Veronica. There's a fire at the Echolls Mansion. Hurry. I'm kind of in it," I tell him. I give him the exact address before stuffing some other things into the duffel.

If the house doesn't make it, Logan is going to hate not having some of his memories. Especially his mother's lighter.

After I finish I run outside and back my car down the driveway as the fire trucks roll in. I call Logan to tell him what's happening.

"You need to get home now," I tell him as soon as he says hello. "Someone set it on fire."

"Hang on," Logan urges. "I'll be there in no time."

Phil comes down to my car as his men try to extinguish the flames. It may be nighttime, but the flames are brightening the entire estate.

"Are you alright Veronica?" the chief asks through the rolled down window. "Why didn't you call your dad first?"

"Because he doesn't have fire trucks on call in an instant," I remind him as I step out of my Le Baron. "I called him after I called you."

"VERONICA!" my dad shouts as he runs up to me. He grabs my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah Dad, I'm good."

"What happened?" he asks, switching to Sheriff Mode.

"Logan asked me to get a change of clothes for him; he was at a restaurant as a waiter spilled some food on him. I was just sticking some clothes in a bag when I heard motorcycles and glass breaking. I went to the window and saw the pool house burning down," I explain. Not soon after Logan's Xterra pulls up.

He runs up to me and hugs me tight as Dick and Duncan getting out of Dick's truck.

"Are you alright? He asks worriedly.

"Yeah, no I'm fine. I grabbed a few things for you while I was in the room. I figured in case the fire got too bad-"

"You should have gotten right out Veronica," he scolds me.

"Well, I'm fine. I was out before the flames got too bad."

He kisses my forehead and hugs me tight again. The flames are pretty much gone, but I could tell the damage was going to be pretty bad.

"We got to the flames early enough. The smoke detector in the pool house had a dead battery, so if Veronica hadn't been here, the house would be gone," Phil explains. "Not everything in the pool house was destroyed, but a good deal of it is beyond replacing."

At least the house isn't gone.

"That's good," Logan nods. "I moved all my dad's stuff into the pool house anyway."

My dad comes over and gives me a hug before patting Logan on the back. "Why don't you two go back to the apartment? I'm going to take care of all this. I'll get someone to drop off your car Veronica."

Logan and I nod before turning away. Dick and Duncan join us at Logan's car.

"Are you alright Veronica?" Duncan asks me, concern evident in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired," I brush him off, leaning against Logan.

"Man, this is messed up," Dick says.

Dick Casablancas everyone, blunt and to the point.

"Nicely put my friend," Logan rolls his eyes. I walk around to the car and open the passenger door.

I watch as the gray smoke, evident even at night, flooded the sky. There are still some flames, but the firemen seem to have it under control. The air is thick with heat, and the police lights flash through. I close the door and take a breath.

Logan gets into the driver seat and starts the engine.

"Oh crap," I say tiredly.

Logan looks over, worried. "What's wrong?"

"I left your bag in my car."

He lets out a sigh of relief and continues driving. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go back to the apartment and sleep."

"You realize you'll be on the couch right?" I smirk lightly.

"Are you sure? How can you spend the night away from my hot body?"

Oh, don't worry. I have more control than what's in your pants.

Next Day

I woke up the next day smelling like smoke and my muscles sore. I push away the covers and move to brush my teeth. I take an Advil for my slight headache. When I go back into the kitchen, Logan is cooking and my dad I fixing a pot of coffee.

"See, I told you the smell of coffee would wake her," Logan jokes, never taking his eyes off the pan.

"I don't know," Dad shakes his head. "I'm thinking it was the eggs. She loves scrambled eggs."

Someone call Agent Mulder. I think an X-Files moment is occurring in my kitchen. My dad and my boyfriend are, dare I say it, getting along.

"I'm thinking I should pinch myself, because obviously I'm still asleep," I joke moving to sit on the stool. I reach for a piece of toast on the other side of the island.

"And yet you eat the food," my dad teases. "Veronica Mars, never able to resist food."

"Well, I learned that I can't order Italian anymore. Have you ever seen her with manicotti?" Logan quips.

"Are you kidding? I've seen her the day after."

"Hey! It's too early for the mocking of my eating habits," I protest as my dad puts a mug of coffee in front of me and Logan puts the scrambled eggs on a plate. "But thank you for the breakfast."

"Your welcome," Logan smiles as he sits next to me.

It's a little off putting how comfy this all is. Nothing in Veronica – Land is comfy for long.

"So Logan," My dad says casually as he takes his share of eggs. "What's the plan for today?"

"Uh, my parent's estate lawyer or whatever called, and I'm going down there to asses the damage with him. Then I either rebuild the pool house or just destroy it. I also have to grab whatever was salvaged," Logan explains, eating his breakfast.

"Good, good," Dad nods. "I'll be bringing in Eli Navarro for questioning. I'm also talking to some of your neighbors."

"Sounds fun," I snipe.

"What are you doing?" Logan asks me.

"I'm going to spend sometime with someone normal. Emmett and I are just going to have an 'us' day. It's been awhile," I explain.

Yeah, and we'll be stopping by the car rental place Amelia went too. Pull a good once over before heading over.

"Speaking of which, I need to get dressed. He should be here soon."

Later

"So what, you're going to case the joint and I go in there guns at the ready?" Emmett bites after I tell him the plan.

See, why can't he be this great when other people are involved?

"Well yeah, pretty much. Sans the guns of course; you're too strong for that," I snark back.

"Fine. Go work your womanly wiles," he rolls his eyes and I leave.

"Hi. I'm hoping you can help me," I say approaching the desk.

Taking a good look at his name tag reveals a Douglas.

"Well, the good news is, that's what I'm here for," he makes an attempt at a bad joke.

I note the "Employee of the Month" plaque behind him. "Looks like I got the right guy." He grins smugly.

So Doug-y here smells like a kiss ass. Just my luck.

"Okay, here's my thing: my friend, she rented the coolest car from you guys, and some of us were going up to see the Staind show, and I wanted to find out what it was so that I could rent one for us to road trip."

"The name?" he asks starting to type already.

"Margot Schnell. Margot with a t. Schnell is-" I begin to explain but he cuts me off.

"It means fast in German," he stops. "They got a Le Sabre."

"And what did they call that awesome color? It was..."

"White? That's called white."

"Right," I nod.

"Yeah, that particular car is rented right now, but I can get you a Regal with moon roof in teal for two-fifty a week, not including tax and liability, which'd be a great way to go and see Stain."

"Duh. Stain-duh," I roll my eyes. "Never mind."

Well, Emmett heard all of that. Time for the tag team to come into play. It use to be me and Wallace, but he's AWOL now.

I walk outside and he goes in, just as Douglas leaves the counter. He's dressed in a business suit, something that doesn't suit Emmett, and goes to a girl with spiky red hair.

"You have to help me," he tells her frantically.

Who does not love the invention of the audio bug? Handy, useful, small, and very high quality.

"What's the problem, sir?" she asks calmly.

"Well, to begin with, my colleague is an unbearable Nazi who couldn't find his own ass with a mirror and a miner's hat. Kinda like that guy, you know?" he points to the plaque on the wall. "Long story short, I'm doing this big presentation, I'm about to crush him for the promotion, and I realized I left my laptop in the rental, and I'm totally screwed. You have to help me."

"What car?" She asks him.

"It's a white Le Sabre. I turned it in last week."

She taps on the keyboard and looks back up at him. "It's rented out. I could be anywhere…."

"You have to have some sort of satellite tracking," he looks around and at the mat on the counter. He points to something. "OnStar! Don't you have some sort of button or something?"

"We're really not supposed to do that sir…."

Don't give up Emmett. Come on. You can do it….

"Please? This kiss ass can't get this promotion," he pleads. He looks back at the plaque and to her.

She smiles and looks round before picking up the phone. "Hi, I'm calling from San Diego, uh, I'm trying to locate a car, code is nine-two-three-four-seven."

I knew that boy had his uses.

"They're not getting a signal. It usually means they're in a parking garage or something," she tells him.

"Is there anything?" he asks?

"Has there been activity on...oh, can you give me that?" she asks into the phone. She listens and pulls out a map. "They did a remote unlock, which means they have GPS co-ordinates from that." She turns back to the fun. "Okay, thank you very much."

She hangs up and shows Emmett the map. "Okay. So two days ago, they were right here."

Where Emmett? Where?

"Waverly. California?" he says a little unsure. "Okay, uh, thanks. Please call if you find anything out." He hands her a card and walks out.

"I hope your boss gets canned."

He turns back with a grin plastered on his face. "Yours too, Stacy."

He walks out to me and hands me the bug. "Did I do good?"

"You did very good." I grin.

Later

I dropped off Emmett at his place, but then Mike insisted on coming along. I think I would have wanted Emmett instead. At least he stays silent.

"So, you're sure you're okay?" Mike asks for the millionth time.

"I wasn't even around for the blunt of the fire," I tell him.

We get out of my car and walk inside of a motel. Compared to that place, the Camelot looks like the Four Seasons. The guy is typing "knotty schoolgirls" into the Google search engine. He turns to us, looks me up and down, and asks if we want a room.

I think I just threw up a little.

"Actually, I'm looking for a friend. She probably passed through here a few days ago," I explain, keeping my cool, holding up a picture. "Have you seen her?"

"Yeah, yeah, she got a room a couple of days ago," he says nonchalantly.

"Can I see the room she stayed in?" I ask.

He points to a sign. "Thirty bucks a night."

You've got millions of dollars and you've been partying all across Europe. What brings you here?

Mike and I rifle through the room, careful not to leave fingerprints, when my phone rings. The caller ID reads Dad.

"Hey Pop," I answer calmly.

"Where are you?" he says urgently.

"What? I'm-"

"Where are you right now?" he repeats.

"Mike and I are in a little art gallery downtown," I say looking around the room. "Say hi Mikey!"

"Hey Sheriff," he calls from across the room.

"Show me," he demands, slightly less scary.

"Dad, I don't know how I'm supposed to-"

"Take a picture, send it to me, then I'll relax. And when you come home, you can tell me about the dead guy on the beach. How could you keep this from me?" he asks hurt.

I hesitate to answer, and Mike looks at me funny.

"I didn't want you to worry." I tell him.

"About what? What did you find?"

So I tell him about it. And about how Aaron might have wanted me dead, along with a few others. He still insists on the picture. Mike and I take the pictures off of the wall and place them on one wall.

"I hate lying to your dad," Mike comments as I set up the camera.

So do I.

A few minutes later I'm sending the pictures from my laptop and Sidekick.

Is this what they imagined when they invented all this technology? A digital leash for a nervous parent?

After I send the email, entitled Digital Leash, a Bluetooth signal is found on Amelia's Palm.

And speaking of technology, my Bluetooth connection is detecting Amelia's Palm Pilot. Maximum range, thirty feet.

Cut To MUCH Later

After wasting ninety dollars, and a lot of my night, I'm getting a bit tired. Mike and I have searched through 3 different rooms and haven't gotten much of anything.

We're walking out of room 111 and I hear the ice machine turning. Leaving a confused Mike to follow me, I head over to it and open the door to the machine. I rummage through the ice and feel something, pulling it out. It's a hand.

I drop it back in, letting go of the door, jumping back. Mike heads into our original room, with me in tow. He takes his phone and starts dialing when we hear "I thought I told you to mind your own business."

We both turn to see Clarence Weidman. I start telling him that my dad knows where I am when he interrupts me.

"I'm guessing that was her. Amelia? In the ice machine?"

Mike dials some more numbers.

"Wait," he urges. He turns to me. "I wasn't entirely upfront with you, the other day. Amelia signed her papers and disappeared, just like I said. I considered the matter settled, until..."

"She made the call from across the street?" I suggest.

"No, that was the second call to arrange for the pickup. The first call was to extort an additional quarter-million from Kane Software."

"She wanted more money? She got three million six months ago!" I cry out.

"Money burns fast when you're being a moron and a jackass," Mike puts in stonily.

Weidman nods. "I gave her the money, marked bills, under the condition that she disappear until the Kanes' legal issues were settled. But a week after she's supposed to be on a plane, marked bills started showing up here."

And that's how I ended up at the reception desk, yet again, with two really angry, really big guys next to me.

"Was anyone else in here two nights ago, did you see anyone with her?" I insist.

"Why?" He nods to Clarence. "He missin' a friend too?"

"Answer or I'll break your fingers," Mike threatens.

"J-just the guy she come in with." I throw him an offended glare. "What? You didn't ask!"

He gives us a description and we head over to Mike, Amelia's boyfriend's dorm. I knock on the door, and he opens it to see only me.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" he greets smoothly.

Weidman comes out of nowhere and grabs him by the neck, stuffing a rag in his mouth.

"You said you were just going to ask him a few questions!" Mike Grayson yells as he enters the dorm too.

Weidman pushes him out of the window and he dangles half in half out.

"I'm gonna ask you some yes or no questions, do you understand?" He doesn't answer. "Do you understand?"

He nods.

Have you seen Amelia DeLongpre in the last two weeks?"

He shakes no.

"Did you conspire with her to blackmail Kane Software?"

A "what" is muffled by the rag.

"He doesn't know anything!" Mike yells out.

"If he falls, he's gonna break his neck!" I scream.

Weidman repeats the question, and he shakes his head. He asks if he killed her, and gets another no.

And then we stroll right out as if nothing happened into the hall.

"Wow. Where'd you learn that interrogation technique?" I ask.

"Harvard. That's a pretty convincing hysterical routine you got. Where'd you learn that?" he asks amused.

"Watching cheerleading tryout results," I answer smugly. "Do you think he did it?"

Clarence shakes his head, but Mike's the one to answer.

"No one is that good a liar."

Next Day

I skip lunch to hang in the Journalism Room with my laptop.

I usually digest a week like this a little help from Wallace. I still do, but now the conversation is a bit flat and one-sided.

Dear Wallace. Me again, with the latest news you've been missing. Keith Mars wins Sheriff's race by a nose. Logan Echolls escapes a jail cell with the help of Emmett…

Suddenly a message pops up on my laptop screen. It's an invitation to video chat. I hesitantly accept, and a blonde woman pops up on my screen.

"Are you Veronica?" she asks with an accent.

"Yes…"I say slowly.

"I saw your post on Ibiza forum. Is this the girl you're looking for?"

One New Email.

I get a picture of Amelia, Mike, and some other people on the beach.

That's her, but actually, um, she's been found, but thanks—""

"Tell me that she's not still with her boyfriend?" she asks a little worried.

"The guy next to her in the picture?" I ask.

"Yeah, he seems cool, but I've never seen a guy lie right into your face and you'd never guess."

I give her my thanks and end the conversation. I pick up my phone and call the motel.

"Palm Tree Lodge," he greets dully.

"Hi, remember me? The blonde?"

"Holy crap! You know the cops were just—"

"I know. I'm guessing you're on email right now. What's your address?"

"Nightman one-twenty-two at aol dot com."

I forward the picture to him. "The guy in the white Buick, the night the redhead was there, is he in that picture?"

"Yeah, that's him. But he didn't have that beard thing and his-his hair was a lot shorter."

I hang up and take up a conversation with EnriqueFreaque69.

"Hey, it's me again. Did Amelia's boyfriend have a little beard thing?"

Affirmative. Mike didn't have a beard, but the guy in the sunglasses did.

"Do you remember his name?" I urge her.

After ending two stressed conversations, I get to call Clarence Weidman. Fun.

"The killer, his name is Carlos Mercado," I tell Clarence as soon as he answers.

"Good." Pause. "Some of the marked bills showed up in Caesar's Palace. Now we have a name and a place."

"All you need, but Clarence, he's a diplomats son. He'll be extradited to Argentina."

"That depends on what happens at the casino," he answers coolly.

"What are you gonna do?" I ask.

"You know the drill Veronica. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."

Night

So, I did what Abel Koontz asked. But how do you tell a dying man that the daughter he was looking for is gone? That the millions he sacrificed his own life to give her only led to her death?

Answer: you don't.

So I sat by Abel Koontz's death bed, and lied. In a family full of well-intentioned lies, one more won't hurt.

Okay, so, this hiatus started as writer's block, but then I had this Grad Night thing at Animal Kingdom, and this really sweet guy got jumped (attacked, beat up whatevr u wnna call it.) and I really didn't WANT to write. Like, at all. I mean, I was standing there, waiting to get on the bus, and I was around my great friend, Matt, and he was crying, and a bunch of other guys that are really sweet and I'm friends with were crying, and it was just so weird. It didn't even hit me until I was huggin Matt and crying with him. I mean, when he said I want to kill who did this, all I thought was, Ima be right there wit you. And well, I felt like garbage. And it was really sucky, cuz I made a bunch of new friends there. And I guy took off his shirt, and I started to dance with him, much to my friends discomfort. And well, he got hurt in the last half hour of the trip.

So that was the reason I didn't work on what little chapter I had up. And then the weeks after was Send-Off week, and I tried writing a little bit. And then it was Dead Week, so all I did was study and review. And that week I was also packing up, because I moved into a new house just a few days ago. And so, I decided rather than unpack my boxes while I'm stressed out, I'll write a chapter, relax, unpack what I can, and just do whatever. I had to throw away all my old furniture, because I've had them for the last 8 years. So I have my mom's old desk, I stole a dining chair, and I have my trusty old computer, Ryan. I'm shopping for new furniture Wednesday and my grandma comes to visit in a week. Then I'm probably going to be going back with her to Brooklyn for a month as a vacation and a birthday trip. My dad owes me.

I ♥ u guys and I'm soooo srry. I'll try to do better. All of that is the reason for my chapter title, along with the fact it's a song lyric.