Chapter Fifty-Five
That evening, Logan and Veronica had decided to stay in and make an early night of it. They'd realized by early afternoon that there wasn't anything more that they could do until they had some answers from forensics. It was eating at Veronica that they were only two days from standing in front of the judge and they still had nothing. She couldn't stand the thought of Logan going back to jail to await trial. That couldn't happen. He wouldn't make it there. Or at least, it would eat away what was left of his soul after his dad had been done with it. She couldn't let that happen. She just couldn't.
All through Easy Rider and Big Lebowski, she'd snuggled him and he'd held her close. She'd barely been paying attention even as she'd quoted every line just like they used to do. Instead, her mind was wandering and she was sure he could tell how restless she was.
Kissing him on the cheek, she finally gave up the fight and asked, "You mind if I go take a walk along the beach? I could use some time alone just to think."
Giving her a look of understanding, he squeezed her, kissed the top of her head, and then released her. "Go ahead. Wandering the beach at night is definitely one of the perks of living beside the water."
Getting up, she smiled at him and leaned down to give him a soft kiss before saying, "I'll be back in a bit."
But she didn't come back. She couldn't come back. Before she'd made it more than a quarter mile toward the pier, someone bumped into her and she felt a pin-prick. She turned to see who had stumbled across her or what had happened. She saw no one she recognized, nothing that looked suspicious. Her vision began to blur, though, and she blinked her eyes in confusion. Her knees felt weak and her arms were heavy. She fell forward and was barely able to catch herself. The feel of sand against her face and hands was her last memory before everything went black.
When she awoke, she was in a dark, dank, musty little bedroom that must have been in a house that should have been condemned. There was a single metal-framed bed in the corner of the room that looked like it should be infested with bedbugs to match the roaches crawling across the floor and wall. She nearly gagged at the smell but choked the bile back down.
"Hello?" she called as she tried to move her hands but found them cuffed over her left shoulder to a wall furnace.
She received no answer. If she was alone, she thought, then maybe she could pick the lock on the cuffs and get out of there on the run. Of course, the fact that she had no clue where 'there' was could definitely be a deterrent but it was worth a try, wasn't it?
Focusing on the lock and then looking around her to see what she had to work with, she exhaled in frustration. Nothing. Not unless she could manage to use her tongue to get the lock open. She snickered to herself when she thought, 'Well, Logan has always told me I have a talented tongue. Somehow I don't think this is what he meant, though.' She nearly decided to try it for lack of other options when she heard the hinge on the door squeak slowly as it opened. She stopped and turned toward the door, trying to see something, anything about her captor.
The person who entered was of medium height, average build, and kept a fedora pulled low over the eyes to keep the face in shadows. Veronica couldn't find anything particularly distinguishing about him but she kept studying the stance, the movements, the walk trying to look for something. Any little thing could make the difference in identifying her kidnapper once she got away.
And she would get away, she thought. There was no doubt about that.
At least, there wasn't. Not until the man turned silently and opened the door for another. The second man who entered the room was more distant, disconnected. They stayed near the door and spoke in hushed tones that frayed her nerves.
"I told you it wasn't time yet but you took her anyway. What happens now is on you. I'm washing my hands of the matter," said the second man who had entered quietly.
"It was never 'on you' to begin with," the first man said irritably, "It's been 'on me' since the moment things went bad. I only brought you in to help clean up the mess."
"Which I was doing," the second said calmly, "Until you screwed up. Now I'm out. Do with her what you will but none of this had better link back up with me."
"Of course not," the first responded hastily, "That was never the plan. You know that."
"I know we've pulled a lot of shit together. Made up a lot of lies," agreed the second, "But this one got personal. For us both. I get wanting to make Echolls pay. I even get your little vendetta against the Mexican biker. But why bring the girl into it? You know she's trouble."
"With a capital 'T'," the first snorted derisively. Then he added cruelly and coldly, "Which is exactly why. She can't create problems if she's hidden away," he paused to sneer, "or dead."
"Use her as leverage," ordered the second, "don't kill her. At least the first was accidental. This would be murder one."
"I'll do what I want with her," the first said angrily. "If you can't handle that, get the hell out."
The second held up his hands and backed toward the door. "You're on your own now, man. Just remember, I tried to help."
When the door closed behind him, the first appeared to glare toward her while thinking. Finally, he said to himself, "Time to check back with Lou. See if he's all in or ready to hit the road." Then, with a louder and more gravelly voice that sounded vaguely familiar, he taunted, "I'll only warn you once. Don't move, Veronica." he paused to give a wicked laugh, "But I sincerely hope that you ignore that advice. It would make things much easier for me," he added ominously.
Veronica's jaw clenched as her heart jumped to her throat. She tried very very hard to not let on how scared she was but she feared it didn't matter. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, unable to avoid the images of loved ones that flashed before her eyes. Unable to help herself, she jumped and gasped when the door swung open and then slammed closed all while her eyes were still shut.
This wasn't the way she wanted to die. She wouldn't die this way. She couldn't. Not when she'd finally found what she'd thought she had lost.