A/n: Thank you all for the kind reviews and follows. Despite my highly questionable google history, I remain mostly ignorant of police procedures, so feel free to call me out in case I cross over to the ridiculous. Rated for language and some sexy times with some not so sexy people (it had to be done!). Also this is the chapter where I deliver on a promise – I only hope it doesn't disappoint.

CHAPTER 3:

There was a reason Duncan Kane wasn't known for his morality. Blonde hair swung across his vision allowing him glimpses of a bony spine that arched and curved into the supple globes of her buttocks. His fingers dug into soft skin of her hips and he rolled his pelvis purposefully till he received a breathy moan in response.

He looped one hand to fondle a breast, his fingers reaching for its sensitive tip. "Like. That," she gasped out. He used the other hand to push forward, to manipulate the angle of his thrusts when she resisted. Using his knees as leverage, she slammed back into him, their little midday rendezvous picking up pace before ending in a tangle of limbs.

Sweat from their bodies clung onto his shirt, causing the material to stick to his skin. He scrunched his face in disgust as she collapsed on top of his chest. "I should get going," she said quietly falsely attributing his reaction to her.

Now that his more primal needs had been satisfied, her voice exacerbated the guilt in him. He grunted angry with himself for giving in so easily. This was his office, dammit, and any one could walk in anytime. Fifteen minutes ago, that had been part of the hook, an aphrodisiac even but now in the absence of lust he knew it had been a mistake.

Almost immediately, she jumped off his lap and Duncan disposed off the condom.

"Meg," he began.

He was slipping- he usually met her in the dark, fucked with the lights off- and he always pretended she was Veronica.

It wasn't hard; they were so similar on the outside.

"I know, I know," she tried to keep her voice light, but the little quaver at the end gave her away. They had dated briefly in high school- in an off period between the golden couple. It seemed as though Meg Manning had met her very own prince charming- one who would carry her away from the horrors of Neptune, except she hadn't banked on one very important fact. She wasn't the princess of this story

"You're married. I get it. You love her, I get it. Maybe we shouldn't do this anymore." It was hard for her to say no to the boy she had fallen in love with all those years ago. "Not unless you're planning on leaving her."

That was new. Meg didn't issue ultimatums.

Duncan smiled indulgently and mentally made note to have Clarence look into this new development. This was exactly why you never fucked with people you knew- both literally and figuratively. But after that last scandal where he had been caught leaving a Madame's house in New York City, he had had to be more discrete. He was an asshole for taking advantage of poor, sweet Meg but she was one of the few people who could keep a secret. Duncan absentmindedly fingered his mail on his desk as she stood there, when his hands rested on top of an envelope addressed to him.

A frown settled on his face. The name had been scrawled in cursive and the letter looked like it had been placed on his desk rather than delivered- it was missing both a return address and a postmark.

Meg cleared her throat and his attention was temporarily diverted. "I know, I know," he shushed her, speaking softly as he gathered her in his arms

"We will talk about this I promise, but I have a meeting in ten minutes. Rain check?"

Her wide mouth cracked into a smile, and her shoulders relaxed as the fight went out of her, "of course. Call me."

"Anyway I left Neptune, moved to LA, became the amazing person I am now," Logan had spoken non-stop through breakfast, the intricacies of the social hierarchy of Neptune, California dominating their conversation as they filed into the precinct.

"Echolls, my man, I've learned nothing other than the fact that Veronica Ka- Mars," Wallace looked to Logan for confirmation. "Mars was a saint. A stunningly beautiful reincarnation, innocent with a moral compass that allowed her to save bunnies and homeless people alike. Her husband, the current senator was a douchebag whose sister you dated and who just happened to steal the love of your life."

Logan raised an eyebrow before flipping his partner the bird.

"Yup. Except Veronica isn't the love of my life, and said sister also banged my dad before making a play at being the evil step mother II." So he had left out quite a few unnecessary details- Lilly flaunting her relationship with Aaron, Lilly making damn sure Logan caught them with Aaron's hands in her bikini, Veronica trying to shield him from Lilly's supposed secret, the embarrassment of being punished in front of Veronica, his intimate relationship with European leather, with the ashtray…with the concrete by the side of the pool.

"You tell yourself that enough times and maybe you'll believe it one day. Seriously though that's a lot of drama to fill a whole decade of daytime soaps. The good people of Neptune need no television!"

He didn't know the half of it.

Logan bobbed his eyebrows and smiled sweetly, "I have exclusive rights. I hope you're not planning on selling the story as your own."

"Not really. More importantly I still don't get why…" Wallace was interrupted by a wave from one of the uniforms. Logan vaguely remembered seeing him on scene the previous night- the one with the attitude whose name he had never bothered to ask.

"Guess what?"

"What am I guessing here? I'm going to need a little more to go on. Category, please! I'll go for the 1000$ clue."

Wallace rolled his eyes, his voice lowering several pitches. "Rosa Jimenez packed her bags and fled for Mexico yesterday afternoon."

"Mrs Kane, in the kitchen, with a revolver- that was easy. Pull up the paperwork, Fennel," Logan said with false cheer. He should be happy- Veronica and Duncan weren't involved in some giant conspiracy. Disappointment punched him in the gut – it would probably be another eighteen years before he saw Veronica again.

Logan was convinced he was officially ancient when he had to make a ridiculous amount of effort to swing his legs out of the car. His daily commuter clunker, a standard issue Lincoln while faithful was turning to be a real pain in the ass, and his back groaned at having been folded in cramped quarters.

Too fucking old for this, Echolls. He rubbed his achy muscles with promises of a relaxing swim, and a quiet night in when he heard a rustle by the trees.

Instinct and reflexes had his weapon out within seconds. "Who is it? I'm armed," he called out, carefully treading the distance between his car and the door. While Logan did not have a trust fund that would cover the daily spending habits of a Kane, he had continued to live in the house that his mom had chosen. A surely demented and emotional way of holding onto Lynn that damn near sucked all of his meager government salary. He didn't need the circular driveway, the gardens that constantly needed tending or the five bedrooms, but the pool definitely came in handy after a long day of rolling in the dirt and grime of the city. Plus the garages were turning out to be real handy when storing Aaron's 'gifts.'

Fuck. He should've gotten that security system or those attack dogs. Better yet a moat with crocodiles- they apparently worked wonderfully well in the middle ages.

"Hey," a soft voice called and his breath caught in his throat. He knew that voice anywhere; had it perfectly memorized so he could replay it on the nights he was alone and feeling like shit. Veronica stepped into the dim light that emanated from the front porch, her eyes hard, and her hair soft. She was dressed in a simple white dress, the material billowing at her knees in the cool night air.

How did she even know where he lived?

"Hey," he whispered back, holstering his gun. Why was he whispering? Fucking Wallace- fucking with his mind with talks of the past and feelings that probably didn't exist.

"I was hoping you still lived here," her hands were clenched at her sides.

Right. Keith knew, had even visited after they had moved here.

"Are you in trouble? Uhh… not sure if Duncan told you but we found your maid. She confessed to giving Abel Koontz the code to your security system- we spoke to her when one of our contacts in Mexico caught up to her. You could charge her- but it might be complicated. I don't think it had anything to do with your dad," he tried to reassure her.

Ignoring the initial part of his question, Veronica shook her head and walked closer. " It's not her. The code only allows access to the biometric scanner- his prints would have had to be in the system. Besides it doesn't stop the cameras from rolling," she countered.

His breath grew ragged with each step- why the fuck did he even care? She stopped a few inches away and he would later swear that she smelled exactly like she did all those years ago. Like marshmallows and promises. Would she taste just as sweet?

"Veronica?" his voice was high and cracking.

"Do you see him?"

"Who?" He asked, bewildered.

She leaned in closer and his nostrils flared, his body reacting to her presence despite his best efforts. "The man across the street, three houses down. Tall. Dark hair. Leaning up against that pick up truck."

Logan peered in the dark and caught sight of a large figure lingering in the shadows. A lanky man with a bomber jacket stretched his limbs and grabbed his crotch. Classy.

"That's Vinnie Van Lowe," she spoke quietly. Was he supposed to know the name? Logan was about to ask Veronica the same when she explained, "PI extraordinaire- has a business card with the tag line 'they'll never know what hit them.' And his latest target?" she jabbed her thumb at her chest, "me."

"Wha..why? Do you want to come in?" his voice rose several octaves in surprise and Veronica hushed him harshly her hand cold against his lips.

"No, I can't. I have to go. He doesn't trust me. He knows I know."

Logan babbled beneath her palm and when she didn't move her hand, his tongue reached out to lick at her skin. As though burned, Veronica withdrew her hand, "what did you do that for?"

"Can't talk with your hand in my mouth babe. What is it that you know? What can I do? I want to help," he didn't care that he was begging.

Veronica wrinkled her nose, the gesture making her look like the twelve year old he remembered, "don't call me babe. I think my dad was investigating Duncan before he went missing. I've been trying to re-trace his steps but not even Eli, his partner could help track his movements the night before he went missing. I must be getting close or else they wouldn't have sent Abel Koontz."

"OK…" Logan drew out the word, trying to wrap his mind around what Veronica was trying to say. "And what would Duncan have to do with Koontz?"

"Duncan processed one of his appeals a while ago. Also no one but Duncan could possibly know that I kept the gun my dad gave me under that kitchen counter. The drawer has a trick bottom, slightly hidden." She was starting to get more agitated- she wrung her hands in front of her, eyes darting furiously.

"Fuck. And you didn't think to mention it before?"

Veronica looked away, seemingly entranced by a speck of dust, "Duncan was around and I didn't want to bring any attention to it. When I walked into the kitchen that night, I knew that man was there for me. I thought maybe if I pretended to not know anything Duncan wouldn't rush out another hit on me. I checked on it after you guys left; it was still there."

"Hey, look at me," he grabbed her by the arms steadying her. It made little sense that Duncan would want to get rid of Veronica- wasn't she the love of his life? He kept the panic at bay wanting to talk her off the ledge first. "It's going to be ok. I'll call Wallace. We can fix this. Do you need a place to stay?"

She bit her lip as though seriously considering the idea and in that second he wanted nothing more than to keep her safe. On lockdown, in his home, wherever he could keep his eyes on her. "No, I can't. We have this thing at the country club."

Logan held her firmly as he searched her eyes, "you sure? Do you have to go back to him tonight?" His voice had grown softer.

Veronica nodded and Logan felt the bile rise up the column of his throat. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Try and see if you can get one of your friends to come over—keep you company. Don't stay alone. I'll give you a call as soon as I run this by the Captain."

"The Kanes know people," she sounded jaded.

"I do too, sweetheart," Logan promised. He had moved in closer, his hands hovering over her as though waiting to pull her against him the moment she couldn't hold it together – she looked so fragile. Except one touch would probably never be enough. Her gaze matched his and her tongue flicked out to wet chapped lips. The universe most certainly wasn't planning on making things easy for him.

"Logan?"

"Yeah?"

She didn't give him the chance to react as she pulled him in closer, her hand curling around the back of his neck causing gooseflesh to pimple over his skin. Her mouth barely brushed against the corner of his and he felt her breath puff against his lips as she whispered, "I'm not your sweetheart either. Now smile for Vinnie."

Something was seriously fucked up in that household if she'd rather have Duncan think she was having an affair than know what she really was up to.

He watched her awkwardly mash herself against him- the pretend kiss causing his knees to tremble and hold onto her waist for dear life. "Be careful, Veronica. Please just be careful."

"I'm sorry, you did what?" Wallace had been on edge all morning. They had had an early start, a homicide call coming in almost as soon as they walked into the station. This was their job- this was what they signed up for. Still, it didn't mean they had to be happy every time a dead body showed up.

"Veronica thinks it's Duncan. Duncan's the guy who turned off the alarms, cut the video feed, and added Abel Koontz to the list of people allowed to enter the premises."

"And she came to your house yesterday, told you this, and snuck away? "

"She promised she'd be safe. You're not listening Fennel," Logan shouted over the ruckus as his partner weaved through traffic, the sirens parting the flood of cars that rushed through the morning commute.

"And why would the Senator want to kill his wife?"

Logan was beyond impatient at this moment. "Because she knows he had something to do with her dad!"

"Move up asshole, do you not see the fucking lights? What are you deaf and blind?" Wallace cut off a particularly aggressive driver before taking in a deep breath. "Logan. Are you fucking insane? Do you hear yourself? You sound insane."

"Veronica wouldn't lie," Logan was adamant.

"You mean the part when she told us there were another handgun in her kitchen? Oh wait.. so if Duncan really is the bogeyman, we could check up on the security tapes thing, and maybe look into a connection between Koontz and the Senator. Quite frankly, I don't think we will find anything on him." The police cruiser came to a screeching halt at the warehouse district. A portion of the sidewalk and the street had been cordoned off with yellow tape, policemen and CSI techs swarming the place.

"'Cause we weren't looking at Duncan. We were too busy nailing Jimenez to the wall, Logan muttered with a dark look. "Sorry, you didn't deserve that" he apologized immediately, carding a hand through greasy hair as they walked towards the scene. He was frustrated to say the least.

"White male. Thirties. Cause of death- probably the bullet to the chest. I'm going to need to get back to the morgue before I start throwing out a time of death. The cuts on the face- those were done post mortem, possibly to prevent any identification or personal or both," the ME's voice remained calm, collected- he dealt with death every single day and it was best to be impersonal. The victim's face looked like the perp had taken a grater to it.

"Any identification?" Logan inquired as he walked around the Maserati. The guy had to be someone important for him to drive an expensive car. Also, given that the vehicle hadn't been jacked in this neighborhood, the murder had to have been recent. The cuts had been deep enough to shred the victim's face. He peered into the windows, his eyes catching sight of a flash of white wedged between the cushions.

"Found something," the forensic tech announced as he fished around the trunk of the car.

So the dude pissed someone off.

With practiced gusto, Logan snapped on the gloves and reached for an evidence bag to pick up the swatch when his brain made the connection. He knew the fabric well, had placed his hands on it merely thirteen hours ago. His heart dropped to his feet and he braced himself for the inevitable.

Wallace didn't disappoint when the tech handed over a wallet to him. "Well I'll be damned. Duncan Kane. Better get this done before the media gets wind of it boys."