CHAPTER NINETEEN
Lamb was in bad shape. His left eye was swollen shut. Three stitches held together his torn bottom lip. His right arm was in a full cast past his elbow and encased in a sling. The left hand fared a little better, but it was still wrapped in a blue splint. Each time he moved, his face pinched in pain and his breathing was slow and labored, which Veronica was sure meant a few cracked ribs. Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. She smiled and took another picture. With Logan's Christmas present taken care of, she put the camera on the passenger seat and headed for the motel.
All work and no play makes Wallace psychotic. Freshman year finals, Piz and Wallace rented a motel room out of town to study in solitude à la The Paper Chase. It ended when Wallace turned into Jack Nicholson and Piz returned to the dorms. She'd called Wallace this morning to confirm the location of said room. She took the 15 inland toward Black Mountain Ranch.
The Comfort Stay was a small motel with no view to speak of save for other buildings and one lone palm tree in its courtyard. Veronica eschewed the lot in favor of street parking and entered the lobby. It was definitely not the Neptune Grand. A pleasant, round-faced woman in a puce uniform was behind the front desk. She smiled when she saw Veronica approach, "welcome to comfort. Are you checking in?"
"No," Veronica schooled her features into an appropriately somber expression. "You had a guest staying with you a month or so ago and he left behind his things, Tommy Albright. I'm here to claim them."
"Mr. Albright would have to claim them himself."
"I'm afraid he can't, there was this accident." Veronica pulled the death certificate from her purse and slid it across the counter. The clerk barely glanced at it.
"I'm sorry, was he your husband?"
"Brother. Our parents passed a few years ago and it was just us, I guess it's just me now." The clerk looked so sad for her; Veronica felt a twinge of guilt for the lie. "I'm his next of kin," she pointed to the spot on the death certificate where they included the name of next-of-kin/informant, Fiona Albright, sister was written in the correct box.
"I'll just need to see some identification?"
"Of course." Veronica opened her wallet and slipped out the driver license.
Like most people, the clerk confirmed the names matched and then spent a few extra seconds comparing the picture to Veronica. She handed it back and Veronica returned it to her wallet. "Usually we only keep things for thirty days, but you might still be in…" She chose to stop talking instead of uttering the word luck. Nothing lucky about having your last surviving family member killed in an accident. She patted the pocket of her uniform, confirming the location of her keys and then disappeared through the door behind her.
It was a short wait. When she returned it was with a large wheeled upright suitcase that matched the small version Piz had when he came to Keith's to see her. There was also a duffel bag, boarding tote and laptop case. "Do I need to sign anything?"
The clerk turned to her computer and a few keystrokes later the printer behind the counter started to whir. Veronica signed the claim receipt. "Would you like some help with the bags?"
"That would be great, thank you for everything."
She used the phone to summon Brian to her assistance. "I'm very sorry for your loss."
"Thank you." Veronica kept a tight hold on Piz's laptop case and let Brian take charge of everything else. He not only carried them to the car, but loaded them in the trunk for her. She gave him a generous tip.
It was another beautiful California afternoon and as such it required eating outside. She was getting tired of restaurant food and takeout and the baby probably didn't appreciate it much either. Veronica drove to Tender Greens for a healthy alternative and took the laptop to the open-air table with her. She ordered grilled veggies with parmesan and lemon vinaigrette along with their rustic chicken soup. The battery life on Piz's laptop wouldn't allow her to snoop through it, but she didn't want to let it out of her sight until she delivered it to Mac.
When she was done with her soup and veggies, she was still hungry. She ordered the chipotle barbecue chicken and the harvest salad. The model-thin waitress with perfect hair and fake smile would've given her a disapproving glare if the Botox injections allowed for any facial expressions. Veronica just smiled at her and asked for another bowl of soup too. Her phone rang and her smile turned genuine when she saw the caller ID. "Hey you. Two days in a row, I'm feeling very special."
"You should. Do you have any idea what I had to do in exchange for last night's Skype time?"
"Whatever it was, I'm worth it." He gave her an "mmm," like he wasn't so sure it was a fair exchange. Veronica kept her voice light, "FYI, if you're trying to get me to marry you without an official proposal, it's not going to work." Absolute silence. Well, that was very successful, Veronica, good job. Her smile faded.
"So did you rip open the letter the instant we hung up, or did you give it a minute?" There was a slight edge to the teasing.
She tried again, "I think there's supposed to be flowers and candlelight- you, down on one knee. I'm still a woman you know."
"Really? I hadn't noticed." Droll, less of an edge.
"There's also the matter of a ring and maybe a grand romantic gesture or two."
"Hmm, does sex count as a romantic gesture?" The edge was completely gone and he was back in full Logan-tease mode. Veronica grinned.
"No, but the cuddling might."
"Uh, should I be taking notes? This list is getting rather long."
"You could just try paying attention."
"Believe me Veronica; I've committed every word to memory." His answer wasn't in what he said, but in the soft way he said it. It was her Logan. The sincere and vulnerable one. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"
Veronica bit her lip, "making you happy?"
"You don't have to do this to make me happy, just being with you is enough for me Veronica." She could almost see the furrowed lines of worry in his face. She wanted to smooth them away and kiss him.
"But it's not enough for me. I want this Logan."
He expelled the breath he was holding. "I love you."
"Me too."
"If all our conversations are going to be like this, I will wash pots and pans for the rest of my life."
"Good to know, can you cook too?"
"My cooking skills aren't what you want me for."
"Well, I don't know. Lately food seems to be my top priority."
"Only because I'm not there."
Veronica looked around at the crowded restaurant, "why do always choose to get frisky when I'm in a public place?"
"Frisky? I'm not a cat Veronica."
"No? I seem to recall if I pet you in a certain spot…no, wait that's me."
"I love that spot," his voice was raspy. Her face flushed and the heat spread across her skin. "Don't be shy now Veronica, tell me what you want me to do to you." She actually sputtered, which made him laugh. "You're just lucky I don't want my future wife to make a spectacle of herself in front of anyone else, but me."
Her cheeks were burning. "Not nice, Logan."
"I've been accused of a lot of things and nice has never been one of them."
"You know two can play this game. Just wait until you see what I'm doing the next time you decide to Skype with me."
"Tomorrow night then?"
"In your dreams."
"Yep, every night for the past twelve years and in the mornings too. Oh and sometimes in the shower, and…"
"I get the picture." Her second half of lunch was now cold and Veronica was no longer in the mood for food. At times like this, missing him, was an actual physical ache. "So is this going to be a regular thing, you calling me every day?"
"If only." There was a slight hesitation, "uh, the reason I was calling you now was to tell you it will be a few days and I didn't want you to worry." Days? Not good. "In fact, I should leave now. I love you, Veronica."
"I love you too." His parting news tamped down her happiness. She paid the check and drove to the office. Mac was at her desk and the computers were once again tracking through Caltrans footage. "Any luck?"
"I've found the right camera, so any day now." Veronica put the laptop case on her desk. "A present for me?"
"It's Piz's."
Mac studied her for a moment, "what's wrong?"
"I'm just a little tired. I have the rest of his stuff in the car; will you help me get it?"
"You stay, I'll get it."
"It's a lot of stuff."
"I think I can manage it."
Veronica didn't argue. She sat on the sofa. Either her father or Mac had covered the damage with a blanket, Mac probably. It was not a very professional look; she'd have to see about getting a new couch soon and some plants and a new rug. She smiled, maybe her nesting instincts were kicking in early. Veronica pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around herself. She would just lie down and treat herself to a small nap. Yeah and that's really professional. Finding you sleeping on the reception couch is sure to inspire great confidence in all the prospective clients who are bound to come in.
When she woke, it was dark and she was in bed. Not on the sofa at Mars Investigations, but in Logan's bed. It was disorienting and she was confused. She remembered going to get Piz's stuff at the motel and her lunch conversation with Logan- was she dreaming? God, I hope not. She climbed out of bed and padded toward the bright light in the kitchen. Mac was at the table working on Piz's laptop. At least that part wasn't a dream.
"A little tired? I tried waking you, but…how do you feel?"
"Hungry."
"Dick cooked dinner. There's a plate for you in the oven." Plate was more like platter with a huge slab of lasagna and a half loaf of garlic bread. "Salad is in the fridge along with a peach and almond tart."
"Dick cooked dinner for you huh? You know that's his signature move right?"
Mac frowned at her, "he cooked dinner for you. I was just your plus one. I think he's taking this watch out for Veronica thing to the extreme. Either he is really terrified of Logan or he might actually like you."
"I vote for the terrified of Logan option." She took a bite of the lasagna, which was amazing. "Where is he anyway?"
"Restaurant. One of the chefs called in sick." Mac glanced up from the laptop, "you know he's actually not so bad."
"He has his moments."
"He came to get you the second I called him, no complaints."
"Hmm." Veronica studied her friend, "why did you call him? I mean, why not call my dad or Wallace?"
"Dick is easy to bend to my will. Your dad would've had you in a hospital bed and Wallace just would've called your dad."
"Smart move."
"I thought so. I also called your doctor and scheduled an appointment for you for tomorrow. The Internet says you might be anemic. Can't take any chances with my niece."
"Are you terrified of Logan too?"
"No, I think I might actually like you."
When she was done eating most of the lasagna, she got the peach tart from the fridge and sat at the table with Mac. "The man certainly can cook."
"He told me, in the kitchen and the bedroom."
Veronica's fork clattered on the floor, "the bedroom?"
"Now who's the perv? We were both here, in the kitchen and he told me that he can cook in both rooms."
"That's a relief." Veronica picked up her fork and went back to eating the tart. "How is your love life anyway?"
"I'm sure I'm getting more action than you."
"Not by choice." She skewered a peach with her fork.
"Aw, missing Logan?"
"A little."
"Is that the same little as in, I'm a little tired?"
"Maybe." She didn't want to talk about Logan anymore. The problem with sleeping most of the day was now she was wide awake. Not much investigating to be done at… "What time is it?"
"A little after nine."
Not bad, only a six hour nap. "Piz was no slouch when it came to computers, but surely it can't be taking you this long to crack his password."
"I did that hours ago and don't call me Shirley."
"Then what are you working on?"
"I'm watching kitten videos on You Tube." Veronica shook her head and smiled. Either she was rubbing off on everyone or everyone in her life was a natural at snarky charm. She chose to believe the former. "I found the Caltrans footage you wanted and emailed you the stills. Then I started on Piz's emails. Apparently, he had another account we didn't know about. He started it right after arriving in Neptune. He used the name Tommy Albright."
"Gene Kelly's character from Brigadoon." Veronica left the table, "where's my purse?"
"Probably still in the car."
"Which is?"
"Out front. Dick brought you here and I followed in Logan's car. If he ever wants to get me a present, I'll take one of those please."
"Stand in line." Veronica retrieved her purse and camera from the car and then started bringing in Piz's suitcases. It took her three trips to get everything inside. She found the copy of the letter from evidence lockup and brought it to Mac.
Mac's face clouded. "This was good. Maybe Piz would've done okay as an investigative journalist." They both fell silent thinking about the future that Piz would never have. The Internet may have said anemia, but it could just be how exhausting it was for her emotions to be so high one minute and depressingly low the next. Thank God for Logan and the baby because without them this would just be one abysmal nightmare.
"What time is my doctor's appointment tomorrow?"
"Ten."
"Then maybe I should take you back to the office to get your car."
"Nope, I'm staying right here. I'll go with you to your appointment and we can go to the office after. Dick said it was fine."
"I bet he offered you space in his bed?"
"It might've come up." And she didn't look very offended by the suggestion either. Curious.
"Well in that case, I'm going to take a quick shower." Veronica did as she said, but quick turned into long. It could've been the relaxing hot water or an avoidance of the unpleasant task awaiting her of going through Piz's things, but she decided not to quibble. She put on a tank top and her new favorite comfortable item of clothing – Logan's boxer shorts.
"That's a great look."
"Talk to me again when you're pregnant. They're comfy." She pulled on a pair of fuzzy socks.
"I take it back, that's the look right there." Mac used her cell phone to take a picture.
"You did not."
"Logan has spies everywhere and for this photo I just might get my very own BMW." She tucked the phone safely back in her bag.
"Everyone's a comedienne," She muttered under her breath as she left the room. The large suitcase revealed nothing but clothing. It all smelled like Piz and each piece conjured up a memory of him in it. You don't miss New York at all? He was so sad standing there in her father's livingroom; she wished she could go back and tell him she did miss him. It was their last conversation and she'd lost the opportunity to tell him anything important, anything real. That she loved him as a friend and wanted him to be happy. That he deserved to find somebody who would love him the way she loved Logan with an all-consuming need just to be close to him.
She checked all the pockets and felt the seams of the fabric lining before returning all the clothes. Veronica zipped it up and put it to the side. Once she went through everything she'd have to make arrangements to send it to his parents. For a minute she wondered what they thought about her now. Did they believe she'd killed their son?
The duffel bag held his toiletries, a pair of shoes, his running shoes and a garbage bag full of dirty clothes. She would wash those before sending the stuff to Oregon. The boarding tote was filled with books. She shook them all out and flipped through the pages. Nothing. There was a bag with snacks, which she threw away. His iPod and in the side pocket his iPad with no charge. She used her phone charger to plug it in.
She booted up her computer and went to her emails. There was one from Logan. He must have sent it right after they got off the phone this afternoon. I didn't want you to read the letter because I was afraid it would change things and I guess in a way it did, but the outcome was better than I could have ever hoped. I love you Veronica Mars…Echolls? She touched the words on the screen. "I love you too."
Veronica saved the email and opened the ones from Mac. The very first photo was a full shot of the rear of the car and a nice clear image of the license plate. The letters DLR were written vertically down the left side of the tag. Veronica opened up her super sleuth search engine and ran the license plate. The dealer tags came back to a BMW dealership with a very familiar address. They were on the same block as Mr. Thrifty car rental.