Chapter 4: Veronica
From her perch behind the help desk, Veronica restlessly drummed her fingers on the dark wood counter, scanning the nearly deserted. It was a few weeks into the summer and she was about halfway through yet another deadly dull work shift. Even with a computer terminal, there was only so much web surfing a girl could do when: a) she didn't have any classes and b) there weren't any cases to solve.
She considered checking her email for the two hundredth time, when a muffled noise prompted her to look up. The only person in the library was Moe, Wallace's resident advisor, sitting ramrod straight at one of the long study tables, reading a book and sipping from a thermos of hot tea.
And now, he's got his finger up his nose, Veronica thought, as she stared, mesmerized. I think I can actually hear him picking his nose. She suppressed a laugh, automatically reaching for her cell phone, fingers poised to call Logan. Veronica was still grinning when she remembered.
Logan was gone – and it was all her fault.
That disastrous night, after helping Piz to his feet, and making sure he hadn't broken any bones, Veronica had gone looking for Logan. Keith was waiting up for her when, hours later, she slipped into the apartment, exhausted from the fruitless search. Gently, he told her about breaking up the near brawl and delivering Logan safely to the Grande. "Let him sleep it off, honey," Keith had said, when he saw Veronica was about to leave again. "Why don't you wait until tomorrow to go see him."
She'd been regretting her hesitation ever since. The next morning, Logan was gone and all she'd managed to get out of a hung-over Dick was that Logan had split town. "Shouldn't you be used to it by now, Ronnie? You have a talent for chasing off rich boyfriends," he'd sneered.
Panicked, she'd called Logan's cell phone, but his voicemail picked up after several rings. Her tears finally came as she'd listened to his solemn, deep voice reciting the inspirational message of the day. "Love is a power too strong to be overcome by anything but flight. Miguel de Cervantes. Leave a message."
She'd sputtered something about being sorry and wanting to make sure he was okay. But that had been weeks ago, and was only one of many messages he ignored over the course of the summer. Then, abruptly, Logan had changed his number, effectively cutting off all communication. Of course, she'd already tracked his credit card purchases and knew he was staying at his parents' cabin on Elks Point at Lake Tahoe.
Dispirited, Veronica was wondering about the significance of the "sold" sign she'd seen in front of Logan's old house, when someone approached the counter.
"It's Veronica, right? I didn't know you worked here."
She looked up to see Christina, the tall, curvaceous brunette from Logan's psychology class. The one who'd allegedly been "hanging all over" him in Mexico. "Um, yeah. That's me. Can I help you with something?"
"Oh, no. I was just returning some books. Although … do you happen to know where Logan is? It's just that, I think I left my sweater in his car and I was really hoping to get it back," Christina said. "Oh god, that sounded …"
"Slutty?" Veronica supplied, cringing at the obvious jealousy in her voice. "I have no idea where Logan is."
Christina arched her perfectly plucked eyebrows, mouth open in surprise. "O-kay…" She paused, then quickly added, "Look, it's not what it sounds like. Logan and I were at the same party in Mexico a while back and I got totally wasted. He found me puking in the bushes, so he gave me a ride to my hotel. That's all it was, I swear."
An embarrassed flush crawled up Veronica's neck, and she mentally slapped herself for jumping to conclusions, yet again. "Wow, that 'slutty' comment suddenly seems wildly inappropriate. I'm sorry. I don't know what possessed me," she said.
Christina laughed. "Well, I wouldn't be too sorry if I were you. It's not like I didn't try anything. But, just so you know, he turned me down flat. Said he had a girlfriend. Of course, I should've known. The good ones are always taken."
Veronica was heartsick.
She'd been haunted by her own insecurities and so convinced Logan would be unfaithful that in the end, she betrayed him. Now, at night, when she tossed listlessly in her bed, it wasn't from nightmares. Instead, she couldn't stop remembering the terrible hurt in Logan's warm, brown eyes the moment he saw her kissing Piz.
Veronica sighed, glancing at the clock and noting her shift had officially ended fifteen minutes ago. She logged off the library computer and gathered her things to leave. Christina's revelation had brought a fresh wave of guilt, and made the ache of Logan's absence even more acute.
Feeling blue, Veronica decided to stop by Mac's house before going home. Hopefully, Mac would be back from her family's extended camping trip; maybe we could grab dinner and catch up, she thought. Mrs. Mackenzie let Veronica inside and gestured towards the hallway. "Cindy is in her room with a friend," she said. No one answered when Veronica knocked, so she tried again, a little harder this time. Moments later, the door swung open.
"Veronica. Hi." A breathless Mac stood before her, hair mussed and blouse slightly askew. Veronica took in Mac's disheveled appearance, puzzled. Until she noticed Brian, scrambling off the bed.
"Oh my god," Veronica began. "I'm so sorry. Your mom said you … Um, I should go."
"No wait," Brian said, an embarrassed smile on his face. "Stay. I have to get going anyway."
She looked away as Brian kissed Mac goodbye, turning to her friend as soon as the gangly basketball player had gone. Mac was grinning and Veronica couldn't help laughing. "I thought you said you weren't going to see him anymore," she teased.
"I wasn't, but then a funny thing happened on the way to the forum. I ran into Logan. He gave me some advice – really good advice, actually and it basically totally changed my mind."
"Why? What did he say?"
"Just that if you have a chance to find happiness with someone, you shouldn't turn away," Mac answered. "Absurdly simple, yet utterly profound, don't you think?"
Veronica stared at Mac. "Logan said that?"
"I know! Who knew Logan Echolls - the Himbo of Neptune High, voted Jackass of the Week - would turn out to be a … romantic." Instantly, Mac realized her mistake. "Oh god, Veronica. I'm such an idiot. Sometimes I forget that Logan is your boyfriend."
"Was my boyfriend - we sort of broke up. It was my fault." Veronica shrugged at Mac's surprised expression and let out a dismal chuckle. "It's okay. It couldn't have lasted, right? I mean, in what alternate universe do Logan and I make sense? I've lost track of how many times we've broken up. Not to mention he's my dead, best friend's on-again-off-again boyfriend and my fugitive ex-boyfriend's best friend. Crazy, huh?"
Mac smiled wanly and put a comforting hand on Veronica's arm. "Well, anyway, who am I to talk," she said. "I'm a computer hacker and I'm going steady with the basketball team's shooting guard who can write coding almost as elegant as mine. And I still don't know what a 'shooting guard' is."
"Do you care?" Veronica asked, chuckling.
Mac laughed. "Not really, no."
A couple of weeks later, Veronica was in line at the food court, trying to grab a snack before work, when she spotted Piz. He was alone, slouched in a chair, scarfing down a slice of pizza. She hadn't seen him since the night they kissed. She considered slipping away while the getting was good, but figured an explanation was long overdue. Resigned, she paid for her food and strode over to his table. "Shouldn't you be in Brigadoon for the summer?"
"Oh. Hey, Veronica," Piz gulped, sitting up and quickly wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Um, yeah. I should be. But I got this sweet internship for one of the local radio stations, so I decided to stick around for the summer. What are you doing here? I haven't seen much of you lately."
"I have a shift at the library in, oh, about eight minutes." Veronica paused and steeled herself before continuing. "I owe you an apology, Piz. I'm so sorry if I led you to believe there was something between us, but – there just isn't. I know it's no excuse, but I had a little too much to drink that night, and what happened … It was a mistake."
Piz shrugged. "Yeah, well, I kinda figured. Girls always go for the bad boys. And from what I hear about Logan …"
"You don't know anything about Logan," she interrupted. "It's not like that – he's not like that … Look, I'm sorry. I hope we can still be friends."
He nodded and smiled. "You know, Mars, this means the next time someone steals my stuff, I get the official friends rate and not just the friends-of-friends rate. Right?"
"Deal." Veronica grinned, waving as she walked away.
It turned out to be another excruciating day at work. The campus was virtually deserted and so was the library, which meant Kafka stayed where he was and no one came to Veronica looking for him. She was leafing through a new photography book when she heard men shouting outside. She glanced around at the empty library and quickly slid off the stool, exiting the building to check out the commotion.
A small crowd had gathered around a roped-off construction site, watching as men in hardhats stooped over something buried in the ground. Veronica squinted and was barely able to make out a pale patch contrasting against the dark earth, when she heard one of the men yell. "Someone call the police. I think these bones are human."
It didn't take long for the media to descend on Hearst College. That night, stories of the grisly find filled the evening news. According to the authorities, the tiny skeleton uncovered by the construction crew belonged to an unidentified boy, no more than a few years old, who had lain buried under an old classroom building for roughly two decades.
Three days later, the Sheriff released a forensic artist's facial reconstruction of the skull – a painstaking, three-dimensional portrait in clay – hoping someone would recognize the dead child. Veronica felt a chill the instant she saw the boy's face. His long, straight nose, broad forehead and angular bone structure were eerily familiar.
He looks like … Logan.
At first, Veronica thought she's finally lost it. Logan was never far from her thoughts, anyway, but lately, she especially missed the little things; their playful banter, the pleasure of his embrace, the kisses that started sweet and left her burning. Once, she thought she'd spotted him in the supermarket and ended up chasing down some kid who didn't look at all like Logan. So, she thought it was entirely possible she was just imagining the resemblance between him and that poor, dead, little boy.
But, then, she remembered a photo she'd seen countless times, sitting in a crystal frame on the grand piano in Logan's house. It was a family portrait taken by a pricey, professional photographer known for shooting the rich and famous. In the picture, a two-year-old, grinning Logan was sitting on Lynn's lap, Trina and Aaron on either side of mother and son.
Veronica needed to get her hands on that photo. Sneaking into Logan's hotel suite wouldn't be a problem because she still had the key card, but she doubted it would do any good. The photo had probably gone up in flames along with the rest of his house, since she couldn't recall ever seeing it in the suite.
She was at work when she realized the answer was right there in the library. Veronica spent several hours pouring through old celebrity gossip magazines, until she finally found what she was looking for, in a 1989 edition of People. After using the library's color copier to blow up the photo, she rushed home and laid it on her desk next to the facial reconstruction.
Carefully, Veronica examined their noses, lips, cheek bones and jaw lines, comparing every feature one by one. The resemblance was undeniable. Even Keith reluctantly agreed there were similarities. "I guess it's not that far-fetched," he mused. "Aaron certainly got around. I'd be surprised if Logan didn't have any half-siblings out there. But, honey …"
"I know, Dad. There's no way to prove they're related until Logan comes home - if he comes home."
A week went by, then another, and soon Veronica was contemplating what classes to take in the fall. It was already the beginning of August and Logan had been gone for nearly two months. If Logan didn't come home soon, he'd miss fall registration. Well, we just won't let that happen. She was Googling driving directions to Elks Point when Wallace called.
"Hey, Superfly. Cancel whatever wallowing you had planned for tonight, we're taking you to a pah-tay."
"I'm not wallowing. I haven't wallowed in weeks."
"Right, V. That's why Logan's baby picture is tacked on your bulletin board next to that dead kid's. It's not like you're obsessing over some creepy bones 'cause you miss him or anything."
"I'm a detective, remember? It's an interesting case, and I'm just trying to solve it."
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," he said. "I assume you're free tonight? A brotha from the frat I might rush is throwing a house party while his parents are in Europe. We gotta go, V."
"I don't know, Wallace. A glorified frat party? Not exactly my scene."
"That's my point. Your 'scene' is the four walls of your bedroom, hanging with a drooling dog, and photos of dead people. You gotta get out more, girl. Piz and I will pick you up in two hours, so be ready."
Wallace hung up before Veronica could protest further. She sighed and looked around the room, her gaze sweeping over Backup, snoring loudly from the bed, and the bulletin board littered with photos, newspaper clippings and post-it notes. I guess it won't kill me go to a party just this once, but first things first, she decided. After packing a week's worth of clothes in a duffel bag, Veronica glanced at the clock and jumped in the shower.
An hour into the orgy of booze, loud music and drunken college boys artlessly trying to cop a feel, Veronica was nursing a soda and standing alone in the corner of the living room, wishing she'd stuck with Backup and her four walls. Two minutes after they'd arrived, Wallace had gotten friendly with an attractive coed, and was no where to be seen. She was wondering where Piz had run off to, when he suddenly materialized before her.
"Care for some food?" Piz held out a paper plate of crackers and Cheez Whiz. "And, believe me, I use the term loosely."
Veronica smiled, reaching out to take a cracker. "How's the internship going?" she asked.
Piz launched into a story about his perpetually stoned boss, who'd accused him of stealing the last bag of microwave popcorn. "He literally took apart my desk looking for it, Veronica. I swear, he was this close to a full body cavity search. I think it's time to activate my new status as a friend of the Mars family. I need you, Veronica Mars, to solve The Case of the Missing Popcorn."
She was laughing when she noticed a tall figure looking her way. Veronica glanced up, her gaze meeting a pair of familiar, chocolate-colored eyes from across the room.
Logan.
Stunned, Veronica sucked in her breath as she stood riveted. But her initial joy was quickly overshadowed by the flash of pain she caught in Logan's eyes, just before his face transformed into an expressionless mask and he abruptly turned his back to her.