CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It was late when she got home and she spent most of the night checking the bug in Nico's office to see if she could learn anything more about Lev Sorokin. There were conversations about the liquor supply, a new waitress, the crappy job the laundry service did on the table linens, but nothing about their guest at the Neptune Grand. The only thing slightly interesting was a throwaway comment about the start of the month and the bills being mailed. Of course they could've just been talking about their bills for whisky and cigars.

Late night notwithstanding, Veronica didn't roll out of bed until well past noon. Bathroom, breakfast, and then baby clothes. She wanted to sort through her purchases and find the items to show Logan including a little onesie that said, "I'm the present Daddy gave Mommy before he deployed." Maybe the cute, tiny outfits would work their magic and he would forget all about the 'splaining she needed to do.

Dick was gone so she was left to her own devices when it came to food. She passed on the bacon. Eating it wasn't the problem, but the smell of it cooking was something she rather not chance. Veronica tossed some fresh fruit into her Greek yogurt and made toast. It wasn't exactly an inspired breakfast choice, but it would hold her over until her planned lunch date. First, she needed to go in to the office and see how far Mac had gotten with reconstructing the Piz files.

Veronica read the paper while she ate. Fortunately, no new bodies turned up in Neptune overnight. She couldn't see Jeff Ratner and Gandalf being very agreeable alibi witnesses. The latest story on the adventures of Bonnie and Clyde was tucked away on page six. This time it was a picture of them Veronica didn't even remember. It was shortly after she'd moved to Neptune and the four of them became friends. She was wearing her soccer uniform and Logan's arms were loosely wrapped around her. The background was too hazy to reveal any details, but they were probably at the school and Lilly was probably the photographer.

She sighed. The caption read, "Innocence Lost" and the story was a side-by-side comparison of their past "crimes." Bum fights and fake IDs. Vandalism, Lilly, kidnapping, helping an escaped fugitive, Felix, tampering with evidence, Bonnie, and Piz- they'd hit all the high points, or low points depending on how you looked at it. Veronica went to throw it away, hesitated and cut out the picture of her and Logan before discarding the rest. She tacked the photo to the fridge.

When she was finished sorting the clothes her neutral pile was substantially smaller than her girl pile. "Your daddy better be right baby or he's going to be spending a lot of time in the return line." The bedding she'd picked out was neutral, classic Winnie-the-Pooh in soft greens and beiges. When Dottie made her put the crib bumper back because they could cause "suffocation, strangling, or entanglement," Veronica almost passed out. How did she reach her age with no baby knowledge at all? Was she missing some kind of mom gene? Again her thoughts wandered to Lianne, but Veronica pushed them away, got dressed and left for the office.

Mac wasn't alone at Mars Investigations. Dad was there, pretending to understand as Mac explained all the new computer equipment and what it did. Veronica took one strong sniff of Mac's latte before putting it on her desk. "What is all this stuff and what bank did we knock over?"

"Not a joke you should be making, Bonnie, we rob banks, Parker. I used petty cash."

"Petty? This is more like considerable cash."

"You're rich now."

Keith shook his head, "Mac just spent an hour telling me what it all did and I still couldn't tell you, but isn't it fancy? We're moving up in the world, kid."

There were four large monitors on her desk, multiple keyboards, a very expensive looking printer and a whole bunch of things, Veronica couldn't identify. "See I knew I would be the best rich person, generous gifts for my friend and an expensive lunch with my dad."

"An expensive lunch? Is it hiding in your purse?"

"No, I'm taking you out to eat. Anywhere you want, under twenty dollars."

"Each?"

Veronica shook her head, "total. I have to keep my frivolous spending to a minimum." The computer was cycling through images of a four way intersection at a rapid clip, when it suddenly stopped. A picture of Logan's car appeared in the corner of the monitor, "what's that?"

"Cars, Veronica." She swiveled toward the screen and frowned, "it's the Caltrans footage from the corner of Wallace's block."

"From a different day, right?"

Mac's silence was her answer. Veronica studied the screen. The car was in the distant edge of the shot. Its top was up and you couldn't see the driver only the hood and a dark rectangle of windshield. Mac hit a few keys and the frame advanced, the car started to make the right turn exposing the full side of the BMW, still no driver. Mac advanced to the next shot. The car was completing its turn, and you got a glimpse of the rear bumper, but no license plate. The next frame the car was gone. "I could delete them from the system."

"No. You can't, but thanks for offering." Mr. Misanthrope wasn't lying. There was a dark blue BMW, but Veronica knew it wasn't her car, so there needed to be another explanation. "Go back to the previous screen for a minute." Mac did as she asked. It was all from the wrong angle. "This is from across the street. It's meant to catch the people traveling north going through the red light." She tapped the very clear image of a license plate on a northbound white Volvo. "I need you to get me the footage from the camera for the southbound traffic."

"It will take me a little while."

"And in the meantime, one of the two of you will tell me what this," Keith gestured toward the screens, "is all about. Preferably the tiny blonde one."

"This is what I wanted to talk to you about over lunch, well, part of it."

"Then I suggest we get to it."

"While we're gone could you do me one more teensy weensy favor? Work your magic in the DMV database and get me BMW registrations and maybe a list of all the places that rent luxury cars?"

"You mean in my spare time?"

"You're the best. Oh and did you get a chance to reconstruct the financials on Lamb and Sacks?" Mac handed her the paperwork and Veronica shoved it in her bag. "Thanks. Want me to bring you back anything?"

"Red Bull and licorice."

Keith wasn't happy. His expression and body language made that abundantly clear. To soften him up she drove them to Luigi's for manicotti. The restaurant was a few levels above 'pizza joint,' but several notches beneath 'five-star dining.' It was also every stereotype you could imagine for an Italian restaurant. Red checked tablecloths, candles in wine bottles; Veronica wouldn't be surprised to find Lady and the Tramp sharing a plate of spaghetti and meatballs at a corner table.

In the middle of the day, there was only one other table occupied, which was another reason Veronica chose this place- privacy. She ordered the Portobello mushroom parmesan, the manicotti and a side of garlic bread. Keith asked for the same. Once the waiter departed, he got right to the root of his unhappiness. "I thought I told you to stay away from the Sacks investigation."

"That right there is our first problem. I am no longer in high school trying to figure out who faked the purity test scores or where the senior class trip money went, I'm an adult and, hopefully, your partner. We can't keep things from each other, and you can't order me off a case because it might be too dangerous. It just won't work."

Keith was quiet, then offered, "I will try, Veronica. That's the best I can do," before falling silent again.

The waiter used the lull in their conversation to deliver the appetizers and drinks. "Just so you know, I didn't start investigating Sacks to be defiant." She filled him in on the new job that brought Piz to Neptune and her conversation with Parker.

"What was he thinking?"

"I think he was hoping we could get back together."

Keith studied her for a moment, "it's not your fault what happened to Stosh, honey. Aren't you the one that keeps telling me we have to make our own decisions in life? Well, that was his."

Veronica knew he was right, but it didn't make her feel better. She moved on to the reason for the Caltrans footage, Charlie Gallagher's eyewitness statement, and then brought up the gambling debt. "This next part you're not going to like. Weevil took me to see Nico Benedetti; apparently, he's the one-stop-shopping for all your criminal needs."

"I know who he is and you're right I don't like the idea of you anywhere near Nico Benedetti."

"I planted a bug in his office." She retrieved her cell, "and I need you to listen to these messages." She showed him which calls before passing him the phone. He listened to the first three from the night she was in jail and then she had him listen to the fourth message with the line about the bills. "Real estate tax bills get mailed now and the first payment is due on the first of November."

"Why would they be talking about tax bills?"

Veronica found the deeds for Sacks and Lamb in the paperwork Mac gave her, along with a copy of Sacks' tax return. She showed Keith the two hundred thousand dollar purchase price for both pieces of property and then the amount of taxes Sacks claimed on his return. "I think that's how they are being paid off."

"Jerry didn't have time to tell me anything before the…before he got spooked. He was working up to it. I think he was trying to understand where he went wrong. How he crossed the line without even noticing." He sadly shook his head, "so Nico gets a wire from the money man and he pays the taxes, but what does it have to do with Stosh?"

"I don't know. Somehow he found proof and they killed him for it? Maybe he witnessed something he shouldn't have?" Their waiter returned with the manicotti and garlic bread. It smelled so good; she couldn't resist eating a few bites before continuing. In between mouthfuls she told him about her visit to the Neptune Grand and Lev Sorokin.

After destroying the evidence of her break-in at Jake Kane's, losing the election for sheriff, and facing criminal charges, Keith was owed an explanation from her about the Castle and its secrets, including her, using the term very loosely, 'sex tape.' It was one of their last conversations before she left for Stanford. At the time it was a reason for her decision to walk away from everything, but now it meant he had no trouble recognizing the name Lev Sorokin.

"My first reaction is to tell you to stay far away from him, the Neptune Grand, Nico Benedetti and this entire case. Then, I would like to suggest putting your new found wealth to good use and recommend someplace warm, with no extradition."

"But you're not going to do that."

"But I'm not going to do that. I will ask you to be careful. I'm still allowed to do that, right?"

Veronica smiled, "like I could stop you." She pulled the surveillance photo from her purse, "meet Marjorie Kincaid."

"Where did you get this?" A proud smile lifted the corners of his mouth as she told him about her little stint of breaking and entering at the security office across the street. "Do you know who she is yet? And how does she fit into the bribery?"

"It's my compelling alternative theory." Veronica shared her conversation with Cara Murphy and the idea that Piz was involved with someone here in Neptune. She added in the conversation with Jim Kincaid and the check washing. "The only problem with the theory is timing. The check had to be stolen well in advance of her arrival at the office and stealing my sweater to plant at the convention center took planning. And why frame me?"

"You said it yourself; Stosh was hoping you could get back together. If she was in love with him that would give her a very good reason to hate you."

"Look at me making friends wherever I go." Lunch was over, but she knew the conversation wasn't. She signaled for the waiter, but instead of asking for a check she ordered dessert.

"There's more?"

Veronica nodded. For this she didn't want to be interrupted. She waited for the cheesecake and cannolis to arrive and the waiter to depart. "We need to talk about Logan."

He sighed. "You overheard my conversation with Dottie."

"The end of it, but yes." She toyed with her cheesecake, put the fork down and met Keith's eyes. "I love him."

"Veronica, I don't think Logan's a bad guy, he saved my life…"

"He saved mine too, more than once." This was hard. How could she put it into words? Love seemed insufficient. It didn't begin to explain the connection between her and Logan. It was too small to convey all the feelings that she needed her father to understand. "Aaron wasn't just a bad example, he abused Logan. I've seen the scars." Physical and emotional.

"I didn't know."

"He doesn't like to talk about it, but I think it made him feel helpless and when his mom killed herself, he felt like he failed to protect her somehow."

"I'm sorry he went through that. It's something a child should never have to live through, but…"

She held up a hand to stop him. "All those times he mouthed off to you, or he got angry, were because he was worried about me. The idea of something happening to me and him not being able to protect me, terrified him."

"Honey, I know he has his good qualities. You don't need to convince me that he loves you, I can see it."

"It's more than that. I need you to see how I feel. Logan may be hurt and damaged, but so am I. That damage and those losses chip away pieces of you, but Logan makes me feel whole. He is the best part of me. For the first time, in a long time, I'm happy."

"Then why did you leave? If he makes you happy, why did you not see him or talk to him for nine years?"

Good question, Veronica. "It scared me. All of it, not just him. I wasn't ready for any of it, but now I am. I want a future with Logan and I know it's not going to be easy." But no one writes songs about the ones that come easy. Veronica put her hand over his, "you need to let him in. For me and your granddaughter."

He squeezed her hand, "if he makes you happy and this is what you want, that's good enough for me."

Veronica leaned over and kissed his cheek, "thank you."

Keith covered the silence by eating a cannoli. "Granddaughter?"

"Logan is convinced it's a girl."

Keith laughed, "then I hope you're not too fond of his hair." He rubbed his bald pate, "you see this? This is what happens when you raise a girl."

"Don't blame me for your bad genes."

"Your genes too."

"I only got the good ones."

He pointed his fork at her, "shut up and eat your cheesecake." Not only did she eat her dessert, but also three of the four remaining cannolis before paying the check. On the drive back to the office she got Mac's supplies and gave them to her father to pass along. There was still enough time for her to see Mr. Thrifty and have dinner before her Skype date.

Despite her father's assurance that it was "good enough" for him, Veronica was sure this was only the first of many conversations about Logan. It went well and he would try, but the Mars family tended to hold on to things. Missing mom gene, double dose of holding grudges gene- check.

Mr. Thrifty was up the coast in Encinitas. Veronica got on the 5 heading north. Fingers crossed, Mr. Thrifty dealt in high-end luxury rentals and Marjorie was working behind the desk. She could have the entire case wrapped up by dinner and present the fait accompli to Logan with a bow.

The car rental was in the middle of a block filled with dealerships, fast food places, a gas station, and a pool hall. Mr. Thrifty was a dump, an 8x20 metal office trailer surrounded by a sea of jeeps and trucks in a large enclosed lot. The chain-link fence wouldn't keep out a toddler.

Her hopes dashed, Veronica crossed the lot to the "office." A freestanding mailbox in the same dingy gray as the metal hut was wedged next to the stairs. Its lock was broken and it was stuffed with mail. Veronica gave the mail door a little nudge and it flipped open. Postmarks indicated none of it was more than a week old, but it wouldn't take a criminal mastermind to pilfer a few checks. They were easy to spot in their glassine window envelopes. This entire trip was beginning to resemble a waste. Hey Jude, it's me, Veronica Mars, the new patron saint of lost causes.

She took the two steps and knocked on the door. "It's open."

A fireplug of a man with bright red hair was the sole occupant of the office. Strike two.

"Mr. Thrifty I presume?"

"Uh, there is no Mr. Thrifty. I'm Ian, are you here to rent a truck?"

"No. I'm a prívate investigator." She showed him her license. "I'm investigating a case of mail fraud and check tampering." Veronica put the picture of Marjorie on the counter, "do you recognize this woman?"

He studied it for a while and then shook his head, "nope." Strike three.

"Are you the only one working here?"

"Just me. I own the place." His chest expanded with pride.

Do not say anything Veronica; let this man enjoy his paved paradise. "The bank believes this woman took a check from your mail and used it to steal fifteen hundred dollars from one of their customers."

"You're not with my bank, right?"

"No, the money was stolen from someone else's account."

"Good. Well not for him, I guess."

She returned the photo to her purse. "You might want to invest in a new lock for your mail box."

"Sure thing, I'll get right on that." Veronica had the feeling he would be getting a new lock around the same time she got her pony.

The drive back home took double the amount of time thanks to the oxymoron known as rush hour. She picked up a large pizza with everything and a six pack of beer, in case Dick was home, which he wasn't.

After eating her half of the pizza, she rummaged through the baby bags and came up with the floating octopus bath thermometer. One, not-too-hot bath, coming up. She slipped into the warm water and sighed. One of Dick's Supima cotton, costs eighty dollars each, towels made an excellent pillow. If she could get a tub like this in her cell, prison might not be so bad. Except for missing the baby, her hand curled around the gentle swell of her tummy, and Logan. Hmm, a bath with Logan, she closed her eyes and imagined the idea. Naked, soapy, and wet indeed.

The chime of the incoming Skype call startled her awake. Veronica clambered out of the tub, grabbed her towel headrest and streaked across the house. She hit accept with one hand while trying to wrap the towel around her with the other.

Logan filled the screen. She knew the instant the call connected by the look on his face. His mouth dropped open, forming a silent sexy 'oh,' and the very tip of his tongue grazed his bottom lip. "If you were trying to distract me it totally worked."

She wrinkled her nose at him, "I fell asleep in the tub." He bent his head and moved lower. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to sneak a peek under the towel." She wrapped it tighter. "Tease."

A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed she was still alone and she dropped the towel. Logan's sharp intake of breath caused an immediate response deep within her.

"Beautiful." Her shiver had nothing to do with the ocean breeze and everything to do with the way he was staring at her. It was too raw.

She suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed and alone. Veronica grabbed his t-shirt from the bed and tugged it over her head.

His expression was pained. "Logan?"

"Give me a minute." His breathing slowly returned to normal. "I love you, Veronica. It scares me how much I love you. If something…are you okay?"

Was she okay? "I don't know. I'm worried. I can't stop thinking about what's going to happen to me, if I don't find who killed Piz." She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from crying. "They're calling us the Bonnie and Clyde of Neptune."

He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't do that. Don't start taking the blame for something that isn't your fault." Maybe you should take your own advice, Veronica. An awkward silence settled between them. "Hey, I went baby shopping." That garnered her a slight smile. "Let me show you." She held up the sailor dress for him.

"You bought a dress." Full-fledged grin.

"Someone, not naming any names," she fake coughed 'you,' "keeps insisting it's a girl and look." Veronica held up the pink onesie with the deployment present slogan, which earned her an actual laugh.

"Chloe will look great in that?" She shook her head. "Riley? Allison? You keep shooting down all my names and I'm going to start believing you've agreed to Wyatt."

"Charlotte wasn't bad, like Charlotte Lucas from Pride & Prejudice or Charlotte Brontë."

Logan shook his head, "think more like Charlotte, Charlie, Blackwood from Top Gun."

Veronica smiled, "you really need to read more."

"So you mean like, Charlotte's Web?"

"That'll do pig, that'll do."

"Now who needs to read more? That's from Babe; the radiant pig in Charlotte's Web was Wilbur."

"I didn't know they had a Cliffs Notes version of that."

He smirked, "I have it right here next to my copy of Now You Too Can Speak Sarcasm. It's only supposed to take thirty days to achieve full fluency."

"I think you'll have it mastered in less."

"That's funny; the book seems to have been written by Veronica Mars." They were grinning at each other like two fools.

Her smile slowly faded, "Logan? I, umm, have a confession. The letter you sent me in New York?" There was a soft, 'mmm hmm' from him. "I still have it, but I…I never opened it."

"I wondered…just throw it away, it's not important anymore." He frowned, "why did you keep it?"

"It was from you."

The smirk was back, "there were more. I wrote to you almost every day for a year. I'd write them and when I was done, sometimes before I was done, I'd rip them up and throw them away. That one managed to get by me."

"Can I read it?"

"You and the reading again." He shrugged, "do whatever you want with it Veronica, it's yours." Someone called his name, "I have to go."

"I love you."

"Always."