CHAPTER FIVE

"Ronnie? You do remember that Logan is off playing G.I. Joe on a boat, right?"

"Dick." Two nights sleeping on the sofa at the office was not going to turn into a permanent thing. She took a deep breath and tried to find her snark-free zone. "Can I stay here for a few days?"

He shrugged and took a step back, "me queso is sue queso."

"Queso?"

"God, and you're supposed to be the smart one; it means my house is yours."

Veronica bit the inside of her mouth to keep from smiling. Simple, uncomplicated Dick was exactly what she needed. He wouldn't care what she was doing, or how she was feeling. He wouldn't question her every move and push her to make choices he felt were best for her. "It will only be a couple of days, I promise."

"Whatevs. You look like shit Ronnie, rough weekend?"

"Something like that."

"Are you missing the Logan-loving?" His patented lascivious smirk appeared, "do I need to lock my bedroom door at night?"

"That might be a good idea just to stop me from killing you in your sleep."

"There's the Ronnie we know and sometimes like." He grabbed his surfboard and sailed out the back door, "later."

The bed, Logan's bed, was in an alcove on the sun porch that offered panoramic views of the Pacific. Two white Casablanca ceiling fans turned in the lazy breeze coming through the windows. Each window was custom-fitted with rollup bamboo shades and Veronica started lowering the ones surrounding the bed. A wicker trunk in the corner of the room held some of Logan's things. Veronica resisted the urge to bury her face in his clothes, but just barely. She grabbed a t-shirt off the top and made her way to the bathroom. Shower, food, and sleep were her only three priorities for today. In the words of the immortal Aerosmith, her get up and go, musta got up and went.

Friday night, after dropping off her dad and refusing to go inside, she'd contemplated sleeping at Mac's house, but that choice meant questions and conversation. Of course the sofa at the office meant tossing and turning and very little of the thing people called sleep. It made her so irritable and cranky on Saturday that the only things she accomplished were depositing Logan's check into her personal account and arranging a meeting at the local office of Reveal for Monday morning.

The shower was just as phenomenal as she remembered; a walk-in steam shower with an overhead rainfall fixture and acupuncture hydro-massage jets. The teak bench along the back wall conjured up a very vivid Logan memory and Veronica felt the slow rush of heat course through her body. Her skin tingled with the remembered sensation of his hands sliding their way slowly up her thighs and pulling her down to him. She shook her head to dislodge the thoughts and rushed through the rest of her shower.

One plate of scrambled eggs, a glass of milk and banana later she was snuggled deep in Logan's bed still thinking about him. If her math and endless calendar counting were correct, this is where they'd conceived their baby. They should probably never mention that anywhere near Dick or it would become some inappropriate joke he pulled out at every birthday party until this kid was an adult and maybe even beyond that.

Veronica frowned. Now that her father knew she wondered how long she could keep it a secret. It didn't seem fair for everyone else to know before Logan; he was the first person she wanted to tell and now he might end up being the last. She was afraid to tell him while he was away. She didn't want to leave him worried and distracted while he needed to be on full-alert and concentrating. And she had no doubt that he would be worried and distracted by the news. Keith worried if Logan would be a good father and Logan would worry the same thing. In the past he joked about it, "Good thing these shitty Echolls' genes get to die with me."

Not for the first time Veronica wondered if he would be happy. It was ironic. For all the ways she doubted him in the past and the countless times her trust in him slipped, there was no question in her mind about Logan being a good dad. She had more doubts about her own parenting skills. Lianne certainly wasn't the poster child for great moms. Keith's words Friday night had hurt. He'd cut right down to the core of her worries, that she would feed her addiction at the expense of her child- Lianne Mars 2.0.

She wanted this baby. It surprised her exactly how much she wanted this baby. Maybe it was a reaction to her longing for Logan; the idea that she was carrying a piece of him inside her and that for the rest of their lives, no matter what, they would be tied together. But she didn't think so. It went deeper than that and in the end it didn't matter what Keith or Logan or anyone else thought about it because she was going to have this baby. Her breathing evened and baby names tumbled through her brain as she drifted off to sleep.

Phone. Ringing. Veronica patted the bed then reached for a non-existent nightstand. The phone fell silent only to start its incessant ringing again. The haze in her brain cleared and she remembered she was at Dick's house. She reached over the side of the bed and grabbed her purse. Her fingers folded over the phone just in time for it to stop. Veronica fell back against the pillows, hand still wrapped around the phone and her eyes still closed. Again the phone started to ring. She pulled it out and blindly hit accept, "what?"

"Are you okay Veronica?"

She smiled and felt that last knot of tension in her body uncoil. "As a rule, I'd like to start each morning with a hot sailor calling me on the phone."

"Too bad you're stuck with me then."

"Well, at least you're a sailor."

"Why are you at Dick's house?"

She forced herself to remain upbeat, "Are you having me followed?"

"No, but maybe I should start." When she didn't respond he teased, "hmm, how much would a detective charge to get me hot, naked photos of my girlfriend?"

"Way out of your price range."

"I could take a loan. It would be totally worth it."

Movie critics would give them an A for the snappy dialogue and witty banter, but what they really needed were high marks for meaningful conversation and honest communication. Veronica decided to give it a try, "my dad and I had a fight. Wallace's apartment is still a crime scene and I didn't feel like talking about it with Mac so I came here."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Not yet, but I will. Let's just say he's not happy with the choices I'm making and I think he wants to be able to still tell me what to do."

"Still? I don't think anyone, anywhere has ever been able to tell you what to do. He's just concerned, you know that right?"

"I do, but maybe he could show it with fewer words and buy me a pony instead."

"I love you Veronica Mars."

"I love you too."

"There it is. I was afraid I dreamed our last phone conversation."

"You don't get off that easy. So," she dragged the word out, "how did you know I was here?"

"Dick sent me an email. And for Dick to notice anything, but himself, I figured it must be important."

"That's really prompt service. How come when I send you an email, I don't get a call within a few hours? Is there something going on between you and Dick? Do I need to be jealous?"

"Prompt? I suppose for the Navy you might call twelve hours prompt."

"Twelve hours?" A quick glance at her phone said eight a.m. "What day is it?"

"Monday."

Veronica scrambled out of bed. "I can't believe I slept so long, I'm going to be late. I'm sorry Logan, I have to go."

"Listen V, it may be awhile before I can call you again. I'm flying tomorrow; I don't know how long I will be gone."

The coiled tension was back in her stomach. "Fly straight."

"Always."

Her body must have needed the sleep, but she felt disoriented. The intent was a nap, not to sleep away a day. Now she was going to be late to meet the people at Reveal and she didn't have any clean clothes. Plus she was starving and she'd already eaten the last of what was edible in Dick's refrigerator. "Dick! Where are my clothes?"

He strolled down the hall, "that's not exactly how I pictured hearing those words from you, but what can you do?" He pointed to the table, "cleaning lady washed them."

Veronica scooped them up and rushed for the bathroom. She dabbed some toothpaste on her finger and followed the makeshift "brushing" with a healthy swig of mouthwash. Then washed her face, pulled her fingers through her hair and donned her clothes in record time.

"Where's the fire Ronnie?"

"I have to be somewhere in forty…no, thirty minutes."

"So no quickie then?"

Veronica rolled her eyes at him before leaving. Today's meeting was with one of the content coordinators for the public radio station that was working to produce the Reveal program. The woman Veronica spoke with on Saturday morning was full of assurances that if Veronica wanted to know what Piz was working on this would be the person to speak to. She certainly hoped so. The Center for Investigative Reporting had their offices in the San Francisco Bay area and Sacramento. If this woman she was meeting with today wasn't able to help, Veronica might have to take a long drive up the coast.

She was only fifteen minutes late for her appointment and when she arrived she was escorted right to Cara Murphy's office. "Can I get you anything?"

"Decaf coffee would be great, thanks."

"No problem, Cara will be right in."

There were no photos or degrees on the walls. The desk was a shining, spotless glass affair with no drawers and nothing on its surface. There weren't any filing cabinets, or even a briefcase. Nothing for a natural born snoop to snoop through. The secretary returned with a tray bearing coffee and its accoutrements along with a stunning, willowy brunette who Veronica assumed was Cara Murphy. "Veronica Mars, it's a pleasure to meet you finally."

That made things awkward. Cara Murphy obviously knew who she was and yet Veronica had only just heard her name for the first time on Saturday morning. "It's nice to meet you too." The secretary backed out of the room to leave them alone. Veronica used the next few minutes to fix her coffee and assess the brunette.

"I apologize for the Spartan offices; we are borrowing some temporary space from Kinney Broadcasting."

Veronica's gaze narrowed. How much did Cara Murphy know about me? Was the reference to the empty space a polite way of saying she knew I would have peeked through the contents of her office if given the opportunity? "Can you tell me a little about Reveal?"

Cara leaned back in her chair. "Newspapers are dying. More and more people are getting their news from television and the Internet. Unfortunately, it seems like both of those mediums are more about entertainment than real news. Reveal is Woodward and Bernstein in the heyday of the Washington Post only on the radio instead of in print."

"And you hired Stosh Piznarski with no experience in investigative journalism?"

Cara smiled and shook her head, "we didn't hire Piz. He got an interview with us because a mutual friend asked me for a favor."

"A mutual friend?"

"Parker Lee. We went to Hearst together."

Veronica almost dropped her coffee in her lap. When was Piz in touch with Parker? Had they been in contact all these years and Veronica just didn't know it? How out of touch with Piz was she? To cover her surprise, Veronica moved on with the interview. "Walt Matthews from the station where Piz used to work was under the impression he'd gotten the job with you."

"I shouldn't say we didn't hire Piz, that's a little disingenuous. He had a solid resume with lots of radio experience, but like you, we worried about the lack of investigative skills. Fortunately for Piz he had a great pitch. We liked it so much we gave him a chance to put together the story for us. A stringer if you will. If he could nail down the story with facts that could be checked and some reliable sources, he would get the job and it would be our next pilot episode."

"What was this great pitch?"

"Neptune, California. Piz called it a kleptocracy, literally a government that is ruled by thieves." Cara picked up an empty cup from the tray and poured herself some coffee. She waved the carafe at Veronica, "more?"

Veronica nodded just to have something to do. She was stunned. Piz was planning to take down the corruption in Neptune by himself. For what reason? To get a new job near you Veronica. To help clean up the town you couldn't bring yourself to leave. She felt responsible for bringing him here, responsible for causing his death and the weight of that responsibility felt paralyzing.