CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Running the gauntlet of reporters outside the courthouse gave Veronica new insight into Logan. Cameras shoved in her face and questions shouted from all directions.

"Did you kill him for the money?"

"Are you sleeping with Logan Echolls?"

"Are you really pregnant?"

"Veronica, whose baby is it?"

That last question made her stumble. Dick wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pushed his way through the crowd. He scooped her up, put her in the passenger seat of his black Hummer and shut the door. He took a step toward them and the teeming, writhing mass of reporters backed up. Veronica was afraid he was going to punch someone. Instead, he circled around the hood of the SUV and climbed into the driver's side. The rear door opened and both Mac and Wallace scrambled into the backseat.

En masse the reporters converged on the car. Veronica averted her face, but not before they snapped their photos. She could see tomorrow's headline, Bonnie's Getaway, or Bonnie Makes Bail. Flashbacks of a similar ride with Logan plagued her.

Dick revved the engine and they wisely cleared a path. Veronica had no doubt that, in his current mood, Dick would've run over any stragglers. He was pissed. "Are you okay, Ronnie?"

"Where are my dad and Dottie?"

Mac piped up, "they're following us." Dick's driving reflected his mood, angry and aggressive. "That is if they can keep up. Uh, you might want to slow down, Mario Andretti." Dick didn't say anything, but he eased up on the gas pedal.

Veronica felt unsettled. She could practically hear Rod Serling intoning the words; you've just crossed over into the Twilight Zone. People actually believed she was a killer. How did Logan do it? She felt ashamed of herself for ever having doubted him. For even just a minute believing that he could have killed Lilly all those years ago. Standing on this side of the accusations was humbling. If she had to look into the eyes of the person she was in love with and see doubt, it would be her undoing. Knowing that, despite the evidence, Logan's faith in her would never waver made her feel worse.

"We're here Veronica." Wallace was standing at her open car door. She'd been so focused on thoughts of Logan, she'd missed their arrival. "Are you sure you don't want to go home?"

Veronica forced a smile, "Me? Miss a meal? We have not been spending enough time together." She shook her head, "I know it's my fault, but life on the inside is hard, man."

"You don't have to make jokes."

"Really? I'm pretty sure I do."

Mac and Dick were waiting across the street in front of the restaurant with Keith and Dottie. All four of them looked awkward and uncomfortable. Crossing the street was entering bizarro world where everything looked the same, but wasn't quite right. They were going to have lunch in a restaurant owned by Dick. Veronica wanted to travel back in time by about three minutes and tell Wallace yes, let's go home. Too late now.

The restaurant, Breakers, was right on the beach. Dick walked them through the main dining room, which was all glass with expansive views of sand and surf, to the back deck. Rattan chairs with thick blue and white striped cushions were grouped around expensive teak wood tables. Large white market umbrellas offered shade for those diners who didn't want to bake in the California sun. The railing on the outside patio mimicked the rails of a ship and life preservers with the name of the restaurant hung every few feet. It was like dining on a lavish yacht. Their table was the best on the patio with an uninterrupted view of the Pacific.

Keith opened a menu. "So Richard what would you recommend?"

Veronica nudged Dick, "he's talking to you."

"Uh, everything's pretty good, I guess." He leaned down to whisper in Veronica's ear. "Lunch with the 'rents? I don't think so. I'm out, Ronnie." Dick made some excuse about 'work to do in the kitchen' and disappeared. Veronica knew she was in trouble when she contemplated following him. She buried her face in the menu. When the waitress came to take their order she was ready.

For an appetizer she picked the artichoke frizzles; artichoke hearts coated in a seasoned batter and then deep fried before being served with a garlic cream and ranch dressing. As a main course she selected something called The Deckhand, a burger with bacon and smoked Gouda. She also asked for an order of tortilla soup, a salad, and for dessert a brownie ala mode.

Wallace was staring at her. "Was that order for the whole table or are you going to eat that by yourself?"

Veronica echoed his earlier comment, "you don't have to make jokes."

"Who's joking?"

Everyone else placed their considerably smaller lunch orders and the waitress collected the menus. Subjects not to discuss: the baby, Logan, current events. What's left Veronica? Maybe Weevil's right and you should learn to knit.

When Keith asked Wallace: "How was Beaverton?"

Veronica tacked on, "did you hear any juicy gossip for me?"

"Juicy gossip. Hmm, let me think." Wallace seemed to ponder her question. "Van Clemmons is conducting random locker…oh wait this isn't high school."

"Ah high school…those were such happy days, hanging out at Arnolds, drinking milkshakes with Richie and Potsie."

A slight smile teased the corners of his mouth and quickly faded. "The Piznarski's were disappointed you left early. They expected all of us to stay with them not just Parker." There was a slight emphasis on the word 'all.'

Mac nodded in agreement, "it was a full house. I don't think they wanted to spend the night alone."

Keith gave Veronica a meaningful look, "that's understandable."

Veronica added parental concern and potential jail time to her ever-growing list of taboo subjects. "Did you ask them about Neptune and Piz's story?"

"They didn't even know he quit his job," Wallace responded, "and they had no idea he was in Neptune until you called." Another dead end, if Veronica didn't get a lead soon, the only time she would see her daughter was through three inches of Plexiglas on visiting days. Daughter? Great, now Logan has me calling the baby a girl. Next thing you know, I'll be agreeing to Wyatt.

When the waitress brought their food, Veronica asked for a milkshake and Wallace shook his head. "What? It sounded like a good idea."

Silence fell over the table while everyone ate. Mac made an 'mmm' sound as she bit into her veggie burger, "did Dick really cook this?"

"I know right? Hard to believe there's another side to Dick Casablancas."

"Whoa, slow down, Veronica. Just because he can flip a burger doesn't actually add depth to…"

Veronica grinned. "Depth to Dick? Is that what you were going to say?"

"To his character, depth to his character."

"I knew what you meant." She gave her an exaggerated wink and Mac rolled her eyes. Keith was frowning across the table at her. "Not even a little bit funny?"

"It's not that." The familiar 'I'm worried' expression was back on his face, "why don't we drive you home now so you can get some sleep?"

"Sleep sounds great, but first I have to make a stop at the office." Dottie ducked her head, Mac and Wallace exchanged a guilty look and Keith sighed. "What are you not telling me?"

"Dick's house wasn't the only one searched last night. Deputies executed warrants at my house and the office."

"We need to go there right now."

"It can wait until tomorrow. You've had a long day and you need…"

Veronica was shaking her head before he finished speaking. "I need to know what they took." There was no need to add that her freedom was hanging in the balance; everybody at the table was already aware of the stakes.

A somber pall descended on their group and the drive to Mars Investigations was a quiet one. The office was a wreck. All the filing cabinet drawers were pulled out, their contents strewn across the floor. Ditto for the desks. One of Mac's monitors was broken. The sofa was upended and its cushions ripped. And everything was gone; the computer hard drives, the emails, her case files, every piece of information on Piz's murder- all gone.

Her first thought was Mac, "am I going to have to bail you out of jail once they have a look through your hard drives?"

"Please, like they're going to find anything."

"Good I was worried." Veronica paused, "on the plus side we could be cellmates…" Shit, Norris. She sat on the edge of the desk and called the Sheriff station. Her case files were gone, which included the police and autopsy reports. Lamb was an idiot, but even he could piece together where she'd gotten them. With her best Texas twang she asked to speak with Deputy Clayton.

"Who's this?"

If you can't beat 'em. "Bonnie, Bonnie Parker."

It was a long wait before Norris picked up the phone. "Clayton."

"Hey, it's Veronica. Just a heads up, Lamb has my files. All my files."

"Okay."

"Don't you get it? He's got the case file and autopsy reports."

"Thanks for thinking about me, Bonnie, but remember I have keys to the evidence lockup."

"Gee, if only I knew someone with keys…hey, I don't suppose you…"

"I'm hanging up now."

It was worth a shot. Her eyes traveled over the chaos trying to decide where to start and came to rest on the ransacked closet. Jackets and sweaters were pulled from hangers, which were broken and tossed on the floor. Obviously Lamb and his merry henchmen got off on the destruction. Veronica could only imagine what they'd done to Dick's house. She knelt on the floor and sorted through the clothes. One small, grey-marbled cardigan from Abercrombie & Fitch was missing. She racked her brain, trying to recall the last time she'd seen it. Definitely before Piz's murder.

"Mac, when Marjorie Kincaid was here, did you leave her alone in the office at any point?"

Mac shrugged, "maybe?"

Marjorie was the reason she was at the SDCC that day and if her missing cardigan was the one they found covered in Piz's blood, Veronica had a pretty good idea how it got there. With Keith temporarily out of commission, business was slow. The only traffic in the office in the days leading up to the murder was Marjorie. But what did she have to do with Piz? Could she be the elusive new woman in his life? Plotting his murder and executing a plan to frame Veronica did not exactly shout- heat of the moment, passion.

She headed into the office. Keith and Dottie were kneeling on the floor, their heads bent together as they tried to organize what little paperwork remained. "Hey, have you had any luck finding Marjorie Kincaid?"

"Not yet." His gaze narrowed, "why do you want to know?"

"Curiosity?" Veronica yawned. She bent down to pick up one of the visitor chairs.

Keith reached out an arm to stop her, "let me get that." He righted the chair for her and she slumped into it. "Will you please go home now? No, no will you, I am insisting that you go home now and get some rest."

Dottie stood, "I'll take you and come back; we'll have this cleaned up in no time."

They were right, she was exhausted. She stopped to say goodbye to Mac and Wallace. Mac's laptop was open on the desk and she'd hooked it up to the printer. "I've started with the emails. I'll bring in better equipment tomorrow and reconstruct the background checks. Oh and the Caltrans footage…I should make a list."

"Thank you." The words seemed insufficient.

Wallace gave her a big hug, "don't worry V, we've got this."

Out on the sidewalk Veronica stopped. She looked back at the building. Since it was the last building on the corner there was nothing on its left and on the right was the parking lot- no help. She turned back toward the street and scanned the buildings and stores across the way.

"Are you coming?" Dottie was waiting at the car.

"Sorry." Veronica climbed into the passenger seat. "Thanks for coming to court today."

"I would've been there even if I wasn't under strict orders to make sure you were okay."

"Orders?"

Dottie nodded, "Logan was worried about you. When he couldn't reach you all night, he called me."

"Did you tell him about the arrest?"

"I did. I'd seen it on the evening news and had already spoken with Dick before Logan called. I told him not to worry, that Dick was getting you an attorney and you would make bail."

Telling him not to worry would have the same effect as trying to put out a forest fire by spitting on it. At least he was still grounded. When they arrived at Dick's house a large van with the name The Cleaning Specialists was parked in his driveway. Veronica said her goodbyes to Dottie and headed inside. Dick's house was in worse shape than the office. Nothing remained unscathed. Furniture was ripped open. Anything breakable was smashed. So much for the rules of search and seizure.

A five man crew was working on getting things in order. It was a good thing she didn't intend on staying, because there was no place to stay. She managed to find her purse, cell phone and keys. "Any idea when you guys will be done?"

"Six, seven?"

Plenty of time for what she had in mind. She slid behind the wheel of Logan's car and checked her cell. The voice mail feature listed ten missed calls. Three were from the bug in Nico's office and seven were from a restricted number- Logan. The time of the first call was during the search and her arrest. Another call three hours later and the last five were spaced throughout the night. Her finger hesitated over the play button. Listening to them now would be a mistake and she had things to do.

She drove back to Mars Investigations, parking around the corner and out of sight. The only building with surveillance cameras was an office park directly across the street; a squat, flat building surrounded on three sides by a parking lot. Cameras on the corners of the building were angled toward the lots themselves, but Veronica was interested in the one mounted on the front of the building.

She stood under it and faced the same direction. It offered a perfect view of the walk leading up to the office, the street, and the front door of Mars Investigations. Veronica went inside. The main lobby was non-descript; unadorned beige walls, fake ferns in cheap plastic pots and a glass directory, which offered a map of the building's layout. One of the rooms in the back of the building was labeled 'security office' in tiny print. Veronica wound her way through the maze.

Room was an exaggeration, more like a glass box the size of a closet. A small desk was shoved into the space with three computer monitors and a keyboard on its surface. An empty chair was pushed under the desk. The two monitors on the ends were cycling through pictures of the parking lots, but the one in the middle was a steady view of the front. She could clearly see the door to her office across the street.

She tried the door and found it locked. It was a cheap office lever lock. If she had a paper clip and an hour to kill she could get it open, but not before the guard came back from his rounds and called the sheriff. She was pretty sure breaking and entering would get her bail revoked. Good thing she didn't need to go through the trouble. She pulled out her key ring, located the correct bump key, opened the door, and then called Mac.

"I need to retrieve a video file and email it to you, talk me through it."

"Aren't you supposed to be home sleeping?"

"I am sleeping; this is what you call a dream sequence." Mac told her to confirm the current date and time were correct and then talked her through finding the video files for the Monday morning of Marjorie's arrival and departure. Veronica found the files without any problem and emailed them. She returned the computer screen to the way it was, pushed the chair back in and left the office. "Very lax security in our neighborhood."

"Where are you?"

"Across the street. Want to do me a little favor? Print out the best pictures of Marjorie Kincaid from those videos, oh, and a picture of Piz, then meet me on the corner."

Veronica crossed paths with the security guard on the way out the door. He reeked of cigarette smoke, which explained his lengthy absence. She smiled at him as she passed.

It didn't take long for Mac to join her. "I feel like we should be wearing trench coats and hiding behind newspapers."

"I left my trench coat at the cleaners, but next time, I promise." The pictures weren't the greatest, but gone were the days of the grainy black and white picture. According to the date and time stamp, the first two pictures were of her arrival. Neither was a full-face view, but they weren't completely in profile. The third picture was the money shot. It was taken as she was leaving. It was a high angle shot, but it captured her entire face. The fourth picture was the same shot, but Mac enlarged the image. It was good enough to get an identification from it.