A/N: Thank you for your continued encouragement.
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Chapter 9 Soul Searching
INTERIOR MARS APARTMENT
As Veronica finished clearing the plates from the dinner she'd enjoyed with her father, he invaded her thoughts. "Did you give any more thought to selling your soul?"
"Dad," Veronica intoned exasperatedly. "You know I'm not actually going to sell my soul. Daniel Webster I'm not."
Keith wasn't convinced. "If this has anything to do with me, don't do it. It's not worth it."
"But you love being sheriff," Veronica reminded her father.
"Not as much as I love you." Keith smiled. "It's a dead end civil service job, where I have to wear a starched polyester uniform. Besides with Vinnie as Sheriff, I'm the only PI in town. Business is booming baby. Or haven't you noticed?"
"No I noticed. I was also thinking about dropping to part time next semester so I'd be around to help out more."
"You will do no such thing, young lady," Keith bellowed, more loudly then he intended.
"I'm not a young lady. I'm a fully licensed private investigator in the state of California. Just like you."
Keith shook his head. "I have 20 years of law enforcement experience and 100 pounds on you, kiddo. You are not just like me and you never will be. Your former professor, Landry, was right about one thing – you have what it takes to be more than just a crappy P.I."
"I would never be a 'crappy' P.I.!" Veronica pointed out. "I'm good and you know it." Keith frowned in that begrudging fatherly way so Veronica continued, "I just want to help, Dad."
Kissing his daughter on the forehead, Keith looked down at her solemnly. "Then go to school, study hard and make me proud. Let me worry about the business."
There was no use arguing with her father when he was like this. Grabbing a leash off the hook by the door, Veronica announced "I'm going to take Backup for a walk. It'll help me think."
"Okay but wear a sweater. I'll probably be asleep when you get back. I have a 5:00 a.m. flight; I got a lead on a bail jumper just north of El Paso."
"Go get 'em Dad."
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EXTERIOR NEPTUNE BEACH
BEHIND THE SUNSET CLIFFS APARTMENTS
Backup loved to walk on the beach. He'd run on the sand, bark at the waves and chase any seagulls or pelicans that dared cross his path. Because he was such a well behaved dog, Veronica always unhooked his leash to allow the mighty pit bull his freedom. She knew all she had to do was call and he'd be at her heel no questions asked.
The beach at night, especially in the shoulder seasons was one of Veronica's favorite places. There were rarely people about. Even if some brave tourist ventured onto the public beaches, the people who owned the ocean front homes south of her apartment didn't often come outside to mingle with the common folk. The rhythmic pounding of the waves soothed her troubled mind and provided her with the peace she needed to think clearly.
As they walked, Veronica obliged her favorite canine by throwing a stick or a ball for him to chase if they happened to find one in the sand. He'd gallop happily after it, jowls flapping and drool spraying from the sides of his wide doggy smile. That sight always made Veronica laugh.
Tonight was especially wonderful. It had been a gorgeous Indian summer day and the warmth continued past dusk. Despite the darkness, it was still about 68 degrees. Her hoodie was the perfect protection against the night air. She'd left her flip flops at the bottom of the stairs and rolled up the hem of her cargo pants to be able to walk in the surf. The bright half-moon glimmered off the shimmering water at the horizon.
Veronica was weighing the pros and cons of The Castle's proposition. While it should have been a dream come true, something about their offer to make her part of the elite, to help her reach her goal of becoming a full-fledged F.B.I. agent, maybe even a Special Agent In Charge didn't sit right with her. What about the concept of democracy, where people should rise and fall on their own merits, not simply because of their connections? She wasn't naïve; she knew the world didn't operate like that. Connections helped but it still felt wrong.
Jake Kane was able to wield his power to run her dad out of town on a rail, twice. Woody Goodman got away with molesting all those children. How long had that been going on? An ordinary pervert would have gotten the electric chair for murdering Lilly and trying to flambé her in a refrigerator but Aaron Echolls, movie star, action hero, got off scot free and she was relegated to the role of screaming psychologically unbalanced whore for trying to besmirch the Sexiest Man in America. Wouldn't it be nice to be the one with all that power for once?
The offer was very tempting, indeed. Her dad could be sheriff again. Logan would be safe. Nish and Wallace plus several other deserving women would have the chance to make the kinds of elite contacts it takes to excel in this world.
Nish was in. As long as they could get other women enrolled and remove the secrecy, the seductive lure of that kind of money and power won over the self-proclaimed outsider and feminist crusader faster than Dick Casablancas could chug a beer. Veronica couldn't say she was surprised. Her exposure to the seedy underbelly of life made her a cynic early. It was her experience that when given a choice most people would make the wrong one every time.
Could it really be that easy? Say 'yes' and her dream of becoming an F.B.I. agent would come true, just like that. Smirking she chided herself. What was she doing dreaming about being a mere S.A.C.? With what The Castle was claiming to offer, she could be the first female head of the F.B.I. Wouldn't J. Edgar Hoover like that? An agency head who was supposed to wear dresses. She laughed aloud at her own witticism.
The soft ocean breeze carried her laughter farther than expected to the ears of a fellow beachcomber heading toward her. "Care to share the joke?"
Veronica jerked her head up, surprised to hear another's voice and concerned that Backup didn't alert her to the interloper's presence. As soon as she saw him, she knew why Backup hadn't said a thing. The dog was barreling toward his old friend.
Logan squatted down to pet the dog. If he had remained standing, Logan knew from experience that in his exuberance Backup would hurl himself toward Logan and that 80 pounds of ballistic pit bull would have him on his back. "How ya' doin' boy?" Logan cooed at the dog, rubbing his ears and stroking down the sides of his powerful body.
"You lost?" Veronica regarded him wearily as she continued walking toward him, not taking her eyes off him. It was odd to find Logan this far north and outside of the 90909 zip code without a reason. She couldn't believe he'd been walking to her house alone at this time of night. That was disturbing on so many levels, not the least of which was the distance.
"Nope," Logan replied. "Just out for an evening stroll."
"You're pretty far from the Grande," Veronica began again.
Logan looked around, pretending that he was seeing the location for the first time. "Guess I am."
"You know, an 09er could find himself in danger in this part of town at this time of night," Veronica cautioned.
"I'll take my chances," Logan scoffed. "Besides, I have you and Backup to protect me. Don't I, Sugerpuss?"
Veronica rolled her eyes but didn't speak. She hated his sarcasm sometimes, particularly when he used what should have been a term of endearment as an insult.
Logan didn't want to fight. "I haven't seen you since you dropped in on me. So how's your semester, so far?" he searched for a neutral topic. He knew what he desperately wanted discuss with her, but he also knew that she had to start that particular conversation.
"Interesting," was the first word that popped into her mind although the description had little to do with her class schedule.
Interesting wasn't usually a good thing when it came to Veronica. "Tell me something 'interesting' about it," Logan braved the topic and plopped down onto the sand. When Veronica remained standing, Logan patted the area next to him, inviting her to join him.
Veronica did sit, crossed legged about three feet away from him. "Well, Mac and I may have saved a Drag Queen from his stalker aunt."
Logan wasn't surprised. "You and Mac do seem to have a fascinating array of friends."
When Veronica didn't respond to that comment, Logan changed tactics. "So what's new?" If he gave her an opening maybe she's talk to him. It was worth a shot.
"Same old, same old. . ." Veronica replied noncommittally but deliberately didn't follow up with a question about what was new with him. The last topic she wanted to discuss was his romantic escapades.
Hoping to keep the conversation alive, Logan inquired, "So how's . . . um. . . what's his name? Ahh, Bronson?"
"Bronson?" Veronica searched her memory to determine who Logan was talking about.
"Mac's boyfriend?"
"Oh. He's history, has been for a long time. She's dating Max, now, since the end of last semester."
Logan shook his head. He hadn't been part of Veronica's inner circle for a while and when he saw Mac it was to talk about the website, not their personal lives. "Why does that name sound familiar to me?"
Veronica snickered. "You remember Max – Wendy, the hooker? The girlfriend experience? Comic Con?"
"Wait that dweeb who paid $10-, no $11,000 to 'save' her from a life of prostitution only to dump her?"
"Exactly," Veronica agreed.
"Jeeze. I thought Mac was smarter than that. What's she gonna do next – date Dick?" Logan jested.
"Don't even joke about that," Veronica ordered.
Logan changed the subject. He had to keep her talking and this was a little closer to the truth. "What about your friend, Nish? What's she been up to?"
That's an odd question thought Veronica. She wasn't aware that Logan knew she knew Nish. Not wanting to get into it, Veronica simply skirted the issue. "We don't see each other that much anymore, since. . . .since she stopped being the editor of the Hearst Free Press," and Mercer and Moe went to jail, she didn't add.
"Hmmmm," Logan pondered the indirect response but decided to go on the offensive. "You mean you haven't moved into the Lillith House yet?"
Veronica dismissed his lame attempt at a dig. "I don't hate all men, Logan."
"Oh, it's just me, then?"
She was taken aback by his presumption. "I don't hate you. Why on earth would you say such a thing?"
"You didn't call me at all – not once – while you were away. Not a text or an e-mail. Nothing. Just radio silence."
"You were out of the country," Veronica explained.
Logan stared at her with disbelief. "I took my phone."
"How was I supposed to know that?" Veronica snipped. "Besides, I had a boyfriend. It would have been wrong for me to be calling my ex-boyfriend."
Logan frowned. He hated his status as Veronica's ex-boyfriend but he hadn't figured out how to change that.
An uncomfortable silence hung over the two of them like a wet wool coat. Both had more to say but neither wanted to begin. Veronica innocently tucked a strand of wavy hair behind her ear. The ocean breeze had been playing havoc at her fruitless attempts to keep her hair out of her face.
After a few agonizing moments, Logan decided to be a man. "So . . . did you . . . didya know Duncan's back?"
Veronica was surprised that Logan knew. She guessed that Duncan must have contacted him. They had been best friends at one time. It made sense. "He's up at Stanford."
Logan wasn't surprised that Veronica knew details. He always suspected that she knew more about Duncan's disappearance and whereabouts than she ever let on. He ventured forward nonetheless. "He's married." Finding out his old friend was no longer a free man had been a huge relief to Logan. Duncan was an honorable man who would never break his marital vows so that meant he was no longer competition for Veronica's heart.
"Yeah," Veronica affirmed. "To Astrid. That must be making Celeste crazy."
Genuinely smiling at Veronica's dig against the austere Kane matriarch, Logan agreed. "Ironic. Celeste hired her to do Donut's laundry and now the laundress is doing him instead." He laughed at his own bawdiness but stopped suddenly when he realized Veronica wasn't amused. "You're not still carrying a torch for him are you?" Logan thought he would be sick if she said yes.
"What?" Veronica hadn't been paying attention to what Logan was saying. She's been studying him, searching for signs of bruises or permanent damage. The cover of darkness was thwarting her attempts to be circumspect in her assessment of his body for continuing injuries.
"Duncan . . . .you're not still in love with him, are you?" Logan waited not daring to breathe while she answered him.
"Still in love with Duncan?" Veronica wondered where he got this stuff. She leaned forward and sniffed but didn't detect alcohol on his breath. "Did you get hit on the head by your surf board or something? Give me a break. No, I am not still in love with Duncan."
Logan exhaled. "Well I don't know. You didn't mention him but you clearly knew he was back . . . from wherever and you knew he was married."
"I ran into him, okay," Veronica noticeably paused, not knowing how much of this she wanted to tell him. "End of story." She opted for a sin of omission.
When Logan's cell phone rang, Veronica took a moment to glance at hers. As he was finishing up his brief call, she stood up to leave, calling to get Backup's attention from where he was playing in the surf about ten yards up the beach. "I didn't realize it was so late. I've got early class tomorrow and I have to finish the reading."
Logan stood and brushed the sand from his pants before extending his hand to help Veronica up. She accepted his assistance but immediately broke contact once she was upright.
Logan kept waiting for her to say something more. When she'd mentioned Duncan, he'd hope she'd tell him the whole story. Veronica notice that Logan looked like he wanted to say something else but was holding back. "Yeah, well," he fumbled for words but since she'd encountered him, Veronica thought his movements were fluid and there were no signs of injuries from the beating he took this summer. She wanted to keep him that way – healthy.
"Yeah, well," Veronica parroted, not sure what to say either.
"Maybe, I'll see you on campus," Logan offered lamely.
"Sure," Veronica replied unconvincingly
"Don't be a stranger."
"You either, Logan."
Veronica set off toward her apartment. She willed herself not to look back but lost that battle. They were about 100 yards apart when she finally turned around to see Logan shuffling along kicking sand as he dragged his feet and making a trail rather than picking up his feet and leaving individual footprints. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his khakis and his head was bent in defeat. It was one of the most heartbreaking silhouettes she had ever seen. At that moment, Veronica knew what she had to do.