CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Dick in a suit. Veronica spit out her cereal before she choked. "Late night?"

"Early morning- meeting."

"On a Saturday?"

Dick shrugged. "What are you eating? That's not good for two percent." He took the bowl from her and dumped it in the sink. Veronica glumly listened to the garbage disposal munch her Froot Loops. Dick tossed his suit jacket on the table and rolled up his sleeves. He cut thick slices of sourdough bread and put them in a baking dish. In a bowl he beat together eggs, milk, vanilla, cinnamon, maple syrup and sea salt before pouring the entire mixture over the bread. "I'll fry that up in a few minutes."

A few minutes felt like an eternity, she was starving. "Uh, Dick, I think they're ready."

"Slow your roll Ronnie, I'm coming." He fried the French toast in clarified butter then topped it with powdered sugar, walnuts and bananas.

In between bites she said, "I think I am actually going to miss you."

"Going somewhere?"

"Wow, hopeful much? I meant when Logan gets home." She stopped eating, "I know I said a few days, but you know…life. If you want me to go, I can move back to my dad's."

"It's all good Ronnie." He poured a glass of milk and set it in front of her. "Can I ask you a question?"

This was the most serious she'd ever seen Dick. She delivered a wary, "okay."

"Are you gonna break Logan's heart again?" He gave a small shake of his head, "he was a real mess. I thought I was bad when Beaver… but man, Ronnie. When you left, it was even worse than the second? Third?" He nodded to himself, "third time you broke up."

"Is that why you went to South America?"

"Yeah, desperate times. I didn't think he was going to make it. Careless and stupid and that's coming from me."

"I'm not going to leave him."

"Okay Ronnie, 'cause trust me, if you do, that's it man. Bye, bye Logan Echolls, it will be over for him." With that parting shot, he left the kitchen. Veronica didn't want any more breakfast. She washed the dishes by hand and scrubbed the counters. Then she cleaned the stovetop and reorganized the pantry. When that room was done, she moved through the rest of the house. Her mind kept replaying the stupid and careless and bye bye Logan Echolls with the it will be a few days and I didn't want you to worry.

She needed to do something. There was Marjorie's mail and the start of the background check, but Veronica didn't think she would be able to concentrate. She'd already wasted the morning cleaning a clean house; she needed a project. Dick was passed out from his late night or early morning meeting depending on who you believed, but she felt relatively safe. Just in case, she called Dottie. "Veronica, are you ready for round two of baby shopping?"

"Um, maybe, but first I need to apply a little pressure."

"That sounds intriguing, I'm in. Should I get you in say half an hour?"

"Perfect." Veronica didn't want to dwell on why she chose Dottie to spend the day with, but she knew it went deeper than liking her company. She showered and dressed and was outside waiting by the time Dottie pulled up in a 1966 Candy Apple Red Mustang. "I have a friend who would love this car."

Dottie laughed. "Not as much as I do. Tommy picked me up for our first date in this car."

"Thanks for coming with me." Veronica gave her directions to Dunn BMW. "I was going a little stir crazy in the house."

"How are you feeling? Have you felt her move yet?"

Another one convinced it was a girl. Did Logan make an announcement? "I think so. It feels like this little flutter and I'm positive it's the baby, and then I think it's just gas."

"You'll know soon enough when the kicking starts."

"Can't wait." Not one ounce of sarcasm, she literally couldn't wait. She turned her head to stare out the window.

"What's on your mind Veronica?"

"Logan." Dick said he was a mess when she left end of freshman year. She knew he was at Hearst for another year before transferring to Brown. Two more years there to get the college degree he needed to attend AOCS, which meant it was a full three years before he met Dottie. Yet when Dottie met him he was still, what were her exact words, lost and forlorn. Three years and he'd only managed to recover enough to move from mess to forlorn. "I don't think I can make it up to him."

"I don't think he cares. Well, that didn't come out right." Dottie pulled the car over and put it in park. "What I mean is, he loves you. He's not looking for you to jump through hoops and spend the rest of your life apologizing to him. He just wants to be with you, he wants to be the one who makes you happy."

"He does make me happy."

"Then let it go. He will, he has. Dwelling on the past will only cause you both a lot of unnecessary grief. Especially because once you get this little murder indictment thingy cleared up, you have a bright future ahead of you."

Veronica laughed. "Okay then, let's take care of this little murder indictment thingy."

Philip Dunn saw them coming and rushed from his glass fortress to intercept them in the showroom. "Uh-uh, no, you went to my home, my home. You lied to my wife. I know who you are Veronica Mars and you need to leave right now before I call the police."

"Call the police," she bluffed. "I'm sure they would love to hear all about your sister."

Rage turned into uncertainty, "my sister?"

"Mail theft, bank fraud, stalking, murder," Veronica ticked off the items on Marjorie's ever-growing list of crimes. "And what about you? Accomplice, accessory after the fact, obstruction- it was your car she used and you're the one hiding her now. Go ahead call the police; you can explain yourself to them."

His eyes darted around the showroom. It was crowded on a Saturday and all eyes were on them. "Maybe we should do this in my office."

Veronica shook her head, "just tell me where to find Marjorie."

"I don't know," it was a plaintive whine. "She was at my parents, but she was leaving. I don't know where she is now."

"That's too bad Philip; I was really hoping I could help you." Veronica turned to leave and glanced back. "When you do talk to her, tell her I'm looking for her and you both better hope I find her before the police do."

Philip stood rooted to the spot as Veronica casually strolled from the dealership. Outside, she turned to Dottie with a smile, "mission… what's wrong?"

Dottie was visibly shaken, "the way that man came charging at you. He was three times your size and you just went at him, completely fearless. I…does that happen often?"

A litany of names ran through her mind; Aaron, Beaver, Moe, Mercer, Cobb. It would not be helpful to tell her this was like dealing with a cuddly puppy in comparison. Instead of answering, Veronica aimed for a diversion. "Still up for baby shopping and maybe some lunch?"

Dottie seemed to recover, "food first?"

"It's like you're reading my mind." They found a restaurant not far from the baby store. Keeping in mind her need for iron, Veronica ordered a spinach salad with grilled chicken and sunflower seeds topped with raspberry vinaigrette. She added an order of clam chowder served in a bread bowl. "So the Navy, how often does he deploy?"

"It depends. He has two more years…"

"Years?"

"His original commitment is eight years, Veronica. Didn't you two discuss this?" No, but we're going to in our next phone call. "You look more scared now than you did back at the dealership. Two years will go by faster than you think when you're busy chasing around a toddler."

Chasing around a toddler by myself. "One more deployment, two?"

Dottie shrugged, "ships deploy every eighteen to twenty-four months for extended operations, but they go out to sea for training and he has to do carrier qual landings at different airfields."

"Qual?"

"Qualification landings. Landing a fighter jet on a moving aircraft carrier takes skill and a lot of practice." Dottie seemed to choose her next words very carefully, "did Logan discuss his plans for when his enlistment is up?"

Veronica's gaze narrowed, "Logan has plans?"

"He does, did, but that was before you and the baby, they may have changed."

Which all sounded very ominous to her. "He's going to reenlist." Reenlistment would mean more months without him. Months of worrying that he wouldn't come home to her. It could mean moving. Two weeks was definitely enough time to make a baby, but not enough time to discuss how they were going to raise one. Why did I think this was a good conversation to start?

"It's not just a job for him," Dottie admitted. "But you understand the importance of doing something you love, something you're good at."

Veronica felt like she'd been slapped. She'd been sitting here thinking about herself. Trying to make Logan give up something he wanted was the same as everyone trying to make her be the Veronica they expected. Everyone except for Logan; he never tried to make her into something she wasn't. He accepted all of her. Even when telling her "this is a bad idea," he let her do what she needed to do. It was time for her to walk the walk. "Can we go to a different store? For the baby shopping? I'm not really in the mood for you-can-call-me-Becky."

"She was a twit, wasn't she?" Dottie paid for lunch and took her to a nice generic Babies R'Us with no personal shoppers and no hovering sales help. It was all about feeding, which was apropos since Veronica was positive that, if the way she was consuming food was any indication, the baby was going to be a big eater. They stocked up on bottles, nipples, and milk storage bags. The Medela breast pump, number one choice of hospitals, Dottie convinced her to buy cost more than her old Le Baron. Eating meant pooping so diapers were added to the cart, along with wipes and Desitin. "You don't need to buy all this stuff now."

"Just call me Veronica Mars, Boy Scout." She held up a package and turned to Dottie, "nasal aspirator?"

"Babies don't blow their own nose."

Veronica made a face, "okay on a scale of one to ten, ten being you have serious concerns about my parenting, where do I fall if I say, that's gross?"

"Just wait. You will be peed, pooped, vomited and spit up on countless times and that's just in your first week."

"Good times, good times." She grinned, "I'm glad Logan will be home to experience it all with me." Her phone started to ring. Veronica tossed the aspirator in her cart and rummaged through her bag. A few days weren't over, but she was hoping it would be him. Speak of the devil and he will appear. The number was a Los Angeles area code, "hello?"

"Veronica it's Marjorie Kinc…Dunn. My brother called me in a panic."

"How did you…" Her business card. She gave it to all clients and it had both the office and her cell number on it.

"I didn't kill him, Piz. It wasn't me."

"It was your car at the scene."

"Yes, but I wasn't driving. It was never about…look, I don't want to do this over the phone, can you come to me?" Never going to happen.

"Just tell me what you know."

"I'll come to you."

She needed to talk to Marjorie. What did Dick say earlier, desperate times? "Fine, you meet me." Veronica gave her Dick's address.

"It will take me some time. I need to make a stop first. Give me two hours and I'll be there." Marjorie had the answers she needed. She was close, she could feel it. This was the end. She could get the answers and the evidence. She would finally know who killed Piz and why.

Veronica looked down at the cart. While she was on the phone, Dottie continued to add items and it was now overflowing. How could one tiny baby require so much stuff? "I think we're going to need a bigger house."

Dottie turned down the aisle with another cart, "I was looking at the swings. What do you think of this one?" Box containing said swing was standing upright in the cart. There were also teething toys and a stuffed octopus. Veronica picked it up. "If you press his tentacles he plays music."

"Very cute." She tossed it back in the cart, "I think I'm done for today, Dottie."

"Tired?" Veronica gave her a non-committal, mmm. It took them longer to pack everything in the car than it took them at checkout. She was quiet on the drive home. Dottie probably thought it was due to her being "tired," but really she was rethinking her decision to meet Marjorie. Public places didn't always mean safety, but what if Dick wasn't home? Why didn't she pick her dad's house? She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Dick's Hummer still parked in the drive.

Once they carried everything inside, Veronica said her goodbyes to Dottie and went in search of Dick. He was out on the beach. "Nice view."

"Are you checking me out again?"

She blew out an exasperated puff of air, "are you going to be here for a while?"

"For however long it takes me to drink this bad boy," he tapped the six pack of beer. Veronica looked back at the house; a clear line of sight and not too far away. Location, location, location.

"Drink them slowly okay? Someone is coming to meet me and I want you to, umm, keep watch?"

"What am I now, your guardian angel?"

She started walking away, "forget it Dick, I'll just call…"

"Ronnie, don't go away mad."

"Just go away right? Isn't that what you were going to say?"

"Whoa, what bug crawled up your ass?"

Veronica walked back to him. "I'm sorry; I'm just a little tense."

"Intense is more like it. Don't worry Ronnie; I've got your back." He popped open a beer, "I'd offer you one, but you know," he toasted her tummy.

"Where's the party pig? On vacation?"

"Every day is a vacation at Chez Dick." Veronica left him on the beach and returned to the house. She wandered through the rooms looking for something to occupy the wait and settled for eating. With Dick on the beach doing his I Drink Alone, George Thorogood impersonation, she could sneak in a quick bowl of Froot Loops. Bowl, box, why split hairs.

When Marjorie finally arrived at the door, she was not the same woman Veronica remembered. This was not the well put-together, dressed to the nines, wife of a possible philanderer; this was unwashed, jittery, and scared woman on the run. Veronica gestured toward the backyard. It took a second for comprehension to dawn on her face. Marjorie left the steps and made her way toward the side of the house.

Veronica waited until she could see her on the beach before joining her. "I'm sorry Veronica, I never meant for this to happen."

"Why don't you start at the beginning."

"We were friends."

"You and Piz?"

"Ronnie!" As she turned toward the beach, Veronica heard the first gunshot. Wet, warm liquid splashed across her face. She touched her cheek and looked down at her blood soaked fingers. "Get down, Ronnie!" Dick's warning was punctuated by the sound of the second shot. Veronica felt a burning in her chest and she was falling, the sand rising up to meet her.

On the ground, she turned her head back toward Marjorie. Her blonde hair was caked with blood and half her face was missing. Veronica's vision swam and she started to lose focus, I'm so sorry, Logan.