Chapter Thirty-Five

Carrie's apartment was impressive. The outside of the building looked almost like a castle. It exuded elegance and wealth, posh high society and class. It didn't surprise Veronica one bit when they got inside and found that the unit belonging to Carrie had the inside architecture of one of the turrets as its living room. It was enormous with six windows letting in the morning light from the circular portion of the room. The furniture was classic but modern at the same time and arranged to highlight the beautiful view seen from the spired garrett.

"Did I ever mention that money is wasted on the wealthy?" Veronica asked caustically as she looked around. It was beautiful but she'd seen the price tag on the place and couldn't help but think of all the ways that much money could be used to benefit others.

"This is nothing," Logan said with a grim snicker, "You should have seen some of the places she'd stay when she was on the road."

Shaking her head, Veronica moved through the immaculate living space and made her way through the dining area and into the kitchen as she asked curiously, "How often was she actually here? And for how long? It looks more like a model shown for tours than somewhere anyone actually lived."

"I don't know," Logan answered honestly, "I mean, we crashed here on occasion but I was always more comfortable at my place. We hung out there or whatever function she was attending that night. The only part of this place I was ever in for more than a few minutes was the bedroom."

Inwardly, Veronica cringed and forcibly shut down the inevitable twinge of anger and jealousy. Reminding herself that it was her own fault that she hadn't been with Logan at the time, Veronica clenched her jaw and her fists several times before saying sharply, "Then the bedroom is where we concentrate. If we're going to find anything to help you, it'll be in there."

Logan followed her into Carrie's bedroom and winced when he looked around. The king-sized bed with its plush black and red microfiber comforter with silk trim was rumpled. Looking closely, it appeared that it had last been used for sex as there was at least one, possibly two, indentations that were more or less body-shaped. Knowing that Veronica was doing her damnedest to emotionally distance herself from the scenario, Logan's heart ached with guilt and regret at the pain he knew she was putting herself through for him. He closed his eyes and sighed, slipping momentarily back into the self-loathing that was so familiar. How could he do this to someone he loved so much?

"The night of the reunion," Veronica said, her voice breaking into his reverie, "You came to pick her up and had sex here before heading out?"

It was a question that was more or less clinical in nature but neither was comfortable with the subject matter. Logan turned to her and hated himself for the mask he saw her wearing. It was her form of self-preservation. He knew it well. "We did," he answered shortly, wishing this whole experience was over with and hoping their fragile re-created bond would hold up through it.

"You said you wore a condom. And that it didn't break," Veronica continued, inspecting the bed from afar and refusing to look at him. "Where did you dispose of it?"

"The bathroom trash," Logan responded quietly, his eyes never leaving the tortured blonde.

She moved to the en suite master bath and checked out the trash can, frowning when she saw it was empty. She picked it up anyway and planned to take it with her. Somehow she doubted the sheriff's department had bothered to swab it down or check for evidence in a trash can. Holding it under her arm, she finally faced Logan and asked, "Any idea when trash day is?"

"Not a clue," Logan replied, then added as an afterthought, "But I remember her saying that her maid came by every Thursday to tidy up and check on things whether she was staying in town or not."

"So she would have come two days after the reunion," Veronica commented, "Except that the sheriff's department had things blocked off." Thoughtfully, she added, "Do you know who she is? I'd like to talk to her, confirm when the last time she was here was. There's the possibility that whoever killed Carrie stole her trash to help set you up."

Logan eyed her scrupulously and asked, "How would anyone manage that? You saw the security on this place. It's as tight as Fort Knox."

"I don't know. But we'll take one thing at a time and once we know if that's what happened or not, then we can try to work out how," Veronica said.

Unable to help himself, Logan closed the distance between himself and Veronica. Wrapping her in his arms, he didn't allow her to protest or push him away. He simply held her there, aching at how stiff and unmoving she was. He trembled almost imperceptibly when she finally began to relax and respond, placing her arms around his waist to cling to him as he was doing to her. His voice was gruff with emotion when he spoke, saying barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry to be putting you through this."

The regret and raw pain she heard made her tighten her hold on him, squeezing him fiercely in her embrace. Her own voice was breathy and hitched on her words as she said in response, "I know you are. This sucks balls," she admitted, but added with vehement determination and a tenacity that knew no bounds, "We'll get through this. Together. I know we will."