A/N: Thank you again to all that have reviewed, followed and favorited. I do appreciate it. Thank you, also, Bondopoulos for the patience it takes to Beta for me amidst the second guessing and all that. Special thanks to the reviewers, I like to personally thank you all and I honestly do. Please forgive me for the lack of personal messages as I have concentrated my efforts to bring you the best Chapters I possibly can give. Thank you.

Chapter 4 Suspicious Minds

The ancient waiting room chairs had not magically become more comfortable since the previous night. Veronica squirmed uneasily in her seat in a vain attempt to ease the knot in her back, but quickly gave up, cringing as she sat up again.

She'd followed Logan's suggestion and gone directly from his hospital room to the ICU waiting room on the fifth floor. The doctor on call had been kind enough to take some time for her almost immediately, but Keith's condition hadn't changed. The doctor gave her the same information she'd heard that morning. Despite this, Veronica had made the executive decision to remain in the waiting room for a few hours. Even if her dad wasn't aware that she was there, it would make Veronica feel better. She'd felt guilty all day for leaving Keith for so long. It wasn't as though she'd had much choice in the matter. The doctors weren't allowing Keith to have visitors, but it still made her feel strange. Taking time to do things that weren't directly benefitting her dad felt wrong.

For the past four hours, Veronica had been putting in her time dozing, occasionally and uncomfortably, across two chairs. The doctor had impressed upon her how amazing a natural nights' rest could do for the human body. He'd told Veronica that he expected Keith to show some signs improvement by morning. There was a possibility of Veronica being able to have a brief visit with Keith if he did improve. The doctor had told her to come back. She'd opted to stay.

Sitting there with nothing else to do, Veronica's thoughts drifted to the hospital patient she had been allowed to see. It had been easy to find his room, and she had taken little thought when she'd barged into it but had stopped short by the sight of him lying on the pristine white bed. Logan hadn't seemed pleased to see her there; in fact, the look he'd given her when she'd walked in the door had caught her off-guard. His defensiveness was familiar but strange at the same time; she hadn't heard or seen that side of him since their senior year of high school. Her reaction to his negative look had instantly vanished when she'd seen the extent of his injuries. She couldn't believe that he'd been shot. Veronica had never seen him like that before, and it startled her that the sight of him with a bullet wound scared her so much.

The truth was Veronica couldn't read Logan anymore. Hell, if she were being honest with herself, she didn't know if she'd ever truly been able to read him. Logan had always kept a very carefully constructed shell around him. It appeared that this hadn't changed, even nine years later. She supposed that he still had a need for the safeguard. His very famous girlfriend had very recently been murdered by people they'd considered friends. Logan had always used sarcasm and anger to shield himself from reality. She remembered all too well how much he'd changed once Lilly had died, and even more so after his mother had taken her own life. He'd spiraled and spiraled out of control.

But he was a pilot in the Navy now; that had to signify something. The Logan she'd known had such a predisposition for snark that he should have been given a general discharge before he'd even finished boot camp. Surely that meant that Logan must have changed. Clearly he'd not only made it through basic training, but he had thrived.

Thinking about his attitude made Veronica think of the way he'd looked at her when she'd visited him at the beach house that morning. His brown eyes had been soft and he'd been so patient; his explanation had been quick and to the point. He hadn't tried to ask her about her life or waste any of her time. He'd just let her go.

She tried not to let her mind wonder what she would have done if he had asked about her life now. She couldn't let herself think about what she would have done if he'd given even the smallest sign of comfort. Would have been able to resist him?

Probably not.

***Break***

His release papers were finally in his hands. Though the doctor had spent an inordinate time giving last minute instructions, Logan hadn't listened. Now, however, he wished he had paid a little bit more attention so that he wouldn't have to count on Dick's memory. He was worried that he'd put too much faith in his friend. Dick had never been known to take special care in paying attention but Logan had thought maybe with what had happened that maybe Dick would impress him. But it seemed not so. At present, as Dick pushed Logan in the wheelchair through the hallway, he would jerk the wheelchair's handles in an attempt at keeping the wheelchair in a straight line. The sensation of being out of control was giving Logan a near heart attack with every jar. Not that the pain was something he couldn't handle, he just didn't see a need to add yet another injury to his list. He kept having visions of his knee being jammed unmercifully into an unmanned food cart or gurney.

As they finally neared the elevator, the doctor approached them again in the middle of the hallway. At this rate, Logan was beginning to feel that he might never actually leave the building.

The doctor stopped them with a wave of his hand. "I've just had a call from your commanding officer. You need to be seen at the Naval Hospital at Camp Pendleton within two weeks. I've already forwarded on the necessary paperwork."

"Thanks, Doc," Logan said, looking back at the tall doctor as Dick pushed the 'down' button of the elevator.

The doctor started to turn back down the hall, but hesitated and turned back. "You can call here if you have questions, but like I said earlier, you're going to make a full recovery."

The sound of the elevator opening caught Logan's attention and he turned back to face it. The door slid open and Dick began pushing him through it. Logan kept his eyes downcast until he heard Dick's sharp intake of breath which caused him to immediately look up. Mac and Veronica stood in the back of the elevator, side by side. Mac's eyes were fixated on Dick and Veronica's were on Logan.

Veronica looked as if she had spent a very uncomfortable night in plastic chairs, much the way he'd slept a few nights before. Mac looked as if she were on her way to work and he wondered just when the computer wiz had gotten to the hospital.

"Hi," Logan ventured, willing Dick to wheel the wheelchair around to face the front door of the elevator. "How's your dad this morning?"

Veronica rolled her lips inward before answering. "They finally kicked me out. I guess even waiting rooms have visiting hours." She gestured to the wheelchair. "Going home, huh? That was quick."

"They only kept me overnight to monitor me because of the fall. I still remembered my name this morning so they're letting me go home."

Finally, Dick wheeled the chair around so that Logan wasn't compelled to stare at Veronica the whole ride to the lobby. Although now he was being forced to sit beside her and stare uncomfortably straight ahead. It was a better option, but only marginally.

Behind him, Dick kept fidgeting with the handles of the wheelchair. His friend seemed nervous and on edge. Logan guessed that it might be due to the fact that they were trapped in a six by six square box and breathing the same air as Cindy Mackenzie. Inwardly, Logan chuckled at the irony of the situation.

Ever since college, Dick had had a slight 'thing' for Mac. He didn't think that Logan knew about it, but Logan totally did. It had started innocently enough, but the few times that Logan had invited Mac over, Dick got all weird and acted strangely. Well, stranger than he normally did, that is.

Dick cleared his throat. "You two up for the high school reunion? It's this weekend!" He said the last in a cajoling way, adding, "It might be fun seeing some of the old alumnus!"

"Alumni."

Mac's answer was soft, so soft that Logan would have missed it had it not been for the fact that they were in such close proximity.

"What?"

"Alumni, Dick, alumni. That's the plural form of the word, and hence, the one you meant."

Logan glanced back at Mac who was glaring at Dick. He locked eyes with Veronica who shrugged wordlessly, clearly at a loss at Mac's tone as well.

"Well, whatev, you two should totally come!" Dick's exuberance was interrupted by the binging of the elevator door. "You know," he continued as he wheeled Logan out onto the main floor, "They give out prizes for things like, oh, I don't know, say, the 'Person most changed by blog posts' and 'Smartest underrated hottie.' You'd win both of those, Mackster, I wouldn't even have to stuff the ballot box."

"You've almost got me to come, but what category would Veronica win?" Mac remarked drolly.

"Hey, if I made you come, my job here is finished." Dick bobbed his head at the women's look of disgust. He grinned lecherously. "Hey, now, you can't set me up like that and expect me to just ignore it."

The group made their way to the entryway where Dick stopped pushing the wheelchair. The four of them naturally fell into a small circle near the sliding glass doors.

Mac was still glaring at Dick, but Veronica was looking down at Logan.

His heart was beating wildly. She looked like she always used to, with a steely determination in her eyes. For a moment, Logan felt like he was nineteen again and completely at her mercy.

It bothered him just a little that he still knew that he would do anything for her.

He gave a small smile. "If you wanted to, you can, you know, umm…come over, and, uh…we can talk about what I saw that night," he hated his stammering. "Dick's taking me there now…I mean, to his beach house. Home is actually San Diego, I'm not…umm…" he shook his head, embarrassed. Softly, he said, "You seemed to want to talk about it last night. I should be there all day. You can stop by when you have a chance, if you'd like."

***Break***

"That guy is such an ass."

"Who, Logan?" Veronica replied automatically, trying to fit the key into Keith's Le Sabre. If only her dad believed in key fobs. "What'd he ever do to you?"

"No, not Logan! I guess I know where your mind has wandered. You'd better watch yourself." Mac gave Veronica a look. "No, I meant Dick!"

"Oh." Veronica didn't give herself time to be embarrassed. "What'd Dick ever do to you? He's just the same ol' same ol'. I never give him a second thought." Finally successful in sliding the key into the lock, Veronica opened the door and threw her bag to the passenger seat. "But I guess that means I know where your mind is as well. He's always making comments like that. Why do you suddenly care now? What's your beef?"

Mac wouldn't meet her eye. "Oh, you know…I mean, god, why does he always have to be so crass all the time?" She lowered her voice in imitation, "'I made you come, my job's done here.'" She rolled her eyes. "What an idiot."

"Hmm. Well, he's Dick. Idiot is his middle name…Ass is just part of his DNA." Veronica motioned to the computer bag Mac carried. "So what did the computer yield?"

"I put anything that I thought was pertinent on a jump drive; it's in here," Mac tapped the bag's outside pocket. "But I'm sure I might not have seen it all. Your discretion. I reset the security password to the name of the dog you had in high school."

Veronica smiled at Mac's sneaky instruction. Mac handed the bag over.

"The email he'd accessed last is at the top of the file on the drive. Let me know what else I can do."

With that, the two said their goodbyes and parted.

***Break***

Veronica sat in her father's spare room, staring down at a footlocker that contained everything from her past life in Neptune. She still clearly remembered the day she'd packed it all up. Her father had stood in the doorway of her room, a sad little smile on his face while he watched her. They had said very little at the time, but they both had known that it was the closing of a chapter in her life that was necessary. She'd packed the box and then a bag, had left for Stanford, and hadn't looked back. She'd never worked a case again. No one she'd met at Stanford, or in the years that had followed, knew of her little hobby in high school; her part time job. Or the PI license she'd obtained at nineteen. Or how proud she'd been to have it.

The past few days did not feel real. It was as if the whole situation had been a surreal nightmare. For the past nine years Veronica had lived a different life, never imagining that she would be sucked back into the world of Neptune for any reason at all, let alone because of an attempt on her father's life and the life of her ex-boyfriend.

Now, it seemed, was the time to open the footlocker and truly pull out her past. She was being called back into the fold; or, more accurately, she was being cattle-prodded back into the herd.

With a deep breath, Veronica grasped the lid and opened her past.

***Break***

The message left on Logan's voicemail discouraged him.

He'd been given direct orders, and unfortunately they were not the ones he wanted to comply with. But, since no one would smuggle him onto the aircraft carrier or even onto base, Logan would have to do what he'd been told. As of that morning, he was on a two-month mandatory leave.

To grieve, his CO said. And also to begin any physical therapy that was necessary to get back to full-strength.

Logan didn't need leave to gain strength; he needed to be back on duty. Back flying, back with the other pilots. The last thing he needed was to be standing in his friend's beach house, injured and idle, staring out the window.

Logan heard Dick laugh out loud from behind him, and he turned to see his friend cackle again at something on he was watching on Instagram. The raucous laughter only served to intensify the headache that had been threatening Logan all morning. Unexpectedly, he felt homesickness for his little apartment in San Diego and the silence to be found there. It was tempting to leave. Now that Carrie's murder had been solved, he really didn't need to be in Neptune any longer. In fact, his bag was already packed and ready to go.

Logan fingered the key fob in his hand, debating. The doctor hadn't exactly cleared him to drive, but he also hadn't told Logan not to. It was the middle of the day, traffic would be light…Logan could always use a car service to take him to San Diego. But then he'd be stuck at home without his car.

Veronica's doe-eyed face suddenly popped up in his mind, taunting him. If he left town now, without so much as a word to her, Veronica's questions would go unanswered. It wouldn't surprise him at all if she chased him down to San Diego to finish their conversation.

Decision made, Logan stuck the fob back into his front pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Dick was right, the thing did look as if it had been run over, but it was still functional. Logan scrolled through his recent incoming calls and found her number, right at the top.

***Break***

The black messenger bag's strap felt familiar and right slung over her shoulder. It was almost comforting how the bag lightly tapped against her hip as she walked. She'd stuffed her dad's computer, plus all the pertinent files that she'd found, inside the bag before she'd left Keith's house. She'd also thrown a high-resolution camera and some basic 'spy-gear' into the back seat of the Le Sabre as well, thinking she might head over to the sheriff's station after a little more digging at MI's office.

Veronica had just let herself into the front door of MI when her cell phone began to ring. Flipping open the flap of the bag, she fished the phone from the side pocket and looked at the screen. Logan.

She punched answer and brought the phone to her ear. "Please don't tell me you got shot again."

"Cute," came Logan's dry response. "I'm leaving for San Diego. If you want to talk to me, I can stop by now or else you're gonna have to come find me."

***Break***

So, she was going to see Logan again and sooner than she was prepared for. He'd been insistent on the phone that this was the only time that would for him.

His tune had certainly changed. Earlier at the hospital, he'd acted willing to help her out, but just now on the phone he'd sounded determined to get out of Neptune.

And why shouldn't he be? Someone had just recently tried to shoot him. He probably wanted out of town and out of Dodge.

She pushed end on her phone and threw it back into the depths of her bag. The way he'd looked at her when they'd parted at the hospital was conflicting with the way he'd sounded on the phone. Although Veronica was glad that Logan wanted to help her, his tone suggested that he only wanted to get it over with and get out of town so that he could put it all behind him. Well, that was fine. She could play that game, too. Get her answers from him and let him go. Then she wouldn't have to see him again. She'd be able to figure out who attacked her dad and likely who shot Logan along with it. She didn't need Logan's help or support if he wasn't willing to give it. She could do it all on her own.

While waiting for Logan to arrive, Veronica roamed the office. On her way over, she'd realized that the sheriff's office was probably where to start. She found Keith's stockpile of good surveillance equipment. She went through it and stashed some of it in her bag and set the larger items in the trunk of the Le Sabre, thinking she'd go through it all tonight at the house.

She was surprised at how easily found herself falling into her old rhythm of shrewd thinking. People always left trails or made mistakes. Eventually there would be an opportunity to catch the people responsible for her father's attack, and she wouldn't rest until they were all taken down.

Everything that she could possibly do in the office complete, Veronica sat down at the front desk and opened her father's laptop. She pulled out the jump drive that Mac had given her and plugged it in, opening the file and skimming it quickly.

Right at the top was the emails just as Mac had promised; Veronica clicked the first one and saw that it had been sent from the Daily Neptune. The body of the email contained only a single phrase: 'as requested' with an attachment listed at the top. When she clicked the attachment, she found that it was an article dated just over two years earlier. It detailed the ground breaking ceremony for both the new Balboa County Sheriff's office and Town Hall building. Both buildings had been funded by a rather large donation from a man named Larry Morrison.

According to the article, Morrison was a long-time resident of Neptune, but Veronica only vaguely recalled having hearing his name before. The article wasn't clear on extent of Morrison's wealth; it mostly praised the man's generosity. A quick Google search told her that he'd kept a low profile until he'd hit it big with a biotech company that she'd never heard of before. The company had isolated the genome for prostate cancer. Admirable as that was, it wasn't anything that interested Veronica, so she clicked back to the attachment.

At the top of the article was picture and Veronica inspected it closely. The photo op was of the Morrison Town Hall Ground Breaking Ceremony, complete with the standard red-ribbon cutting. There were no names underneath it, but she assumed that it was Larry Morrison who held the large, over-sized scissors, about to cut the ribbon. Next to him stood, Veronica assumed, Sheriff Dan Lamb, with a cheesy-asshole smile on his face. She recognized a Lamb smile when she saw one. Behind them were several bystanders, who likely were the staff and family of either the police department or town hall.

Not for the first time, Veronica wished she could crack her dad's safe. Something in it might just reveal what had prompted Keith to order an article as mundane as a, seemingly routine, ground breaking ceremony. Important information was in that safe, she knew it.

She eyed the rest of what Mac had marked and then opened Keith's Outlook to see if there was anything else that was of interest. Scrolling down the list of emails, Veronica waited for something to jump out at her. Something like an email from Deputy Sacks, perhaps, or maybe an anonymous tipster.

There, midway down, was the one she'd been looking for. An email had come in on the day of the attack.

She eagerly clicked it open.

***Break***

The past week's events were making Logan edgy. When he pulled up to the curb, he saw no cars parked in front of the building that was home to Mars Investigations. On the phone, Veronica had promised that she would wait in the office for him, but from the looks of the place, it was vacant and deserted. Feeling unnaturally suspicious, Logan looked around and then felt foolish for being so jumpy. He'd passed one lone car as he'd turned onto the street, but otherwise the street was now empty. The only noise Logan could hear was squealing tires and a barking dog from a few streets over. It felt too quiet, which made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something just felt…off.

Maybe it was pain. He pulled out the bottle of Advil he'd swiped from Dick's medicine cabinet and downed two, swallowing them without water. The doctor had prescribed him more heavy-duty meds, but Logan refused to take them. He could deal with the pain if he wanted to drive. One armed but lucid was the only way he'd manage to get to his apartment, and then he could take the meds and go to bed. The blissful idea of sleep was drug enough for him to wait a couple more hours to take stronger pain pills.

Logan had promised Dick when he left the beach house that they would catch up over the weekend at the Neptune High reunion. He'd purposefully neglected to mention that he was heading to meet with Veronica before skipping town. Though Dick had given Logan an incredulous look at the news that Logan was heading home, he hadn't said anything in argument. Logan could tell that Dick thought he should stay in Neptune but would never voice his opinion.

Logan pulled his laptop bag out from the back seat of his BMW carefully to avoid straining his injured arm. He wasn't sure if Veronica would even be interested in any of the files that he'd accumulated during Carrie's murder investigation, but he wanted to offer them to her. He knew that, if Keith's attack had been brought on by something one of them had unearthed while digging around for Carrie's killer, Veronica should have them. And at the very least, Veronica couldn't say that Logan had withheld the evidence.

He quickened his pace up the front steps and let himself into the building before shutting the door tightly behind him. When the door clicked, it muted all sound from outside. Normally, Logan would have opted for the stairs over the elevator, but his shoulder already tweaked in protest and his head ached like crazy. Annoyed at his weakness, Logan pressed the button to call the elevator and waited. It creaked and groaned before finally opening, and Logan gingerly stepped inside, realizing now how sore he actually felt. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Moments later, he stepped out of the elevator and noted that the outside hallway that led to MI was lit up as he let himself into the little office. The last time he'd been here, Logan had had a case of nerves that he couldn't quite shake.

**Flashback**

Thinking about the reason he was here, about to talk with the one person in Neptune that he respected, had left Logan increasingly tense all morning. Coming to Keith Mars had been something that had to be done, but it was not a decision that Logan had made lightly. He and Keith had a rough history. Keith had never completely seemed to trust Logan in the past, and had never seemed to believe much of anything Logan had to say back then. And Veronica. Oh, the past that held Veronica. He had to quit thinking about her and take charge of this meeting for Carrie. It was more important than any qualms he had about meeting with Keith Mars.

Standing in the main office, Logan could hear Keith talking with someone in the other room. The older man's tone was concerned yet calm, just the way Logan remembered him. The familiarity of it actually seemed to soothe Logan's frayed nerves, if for a moment. Keith's voice was melodic. In an attempt at keeping his mind off his jitters, Logan focused on the words seeping through the door.

"Yes, yes, I have it listed November eighteenth…four of them…or his son...exactly. It's not good." There was a murmured response and then: "I'll watch for it."

The sound of chairs scraping back made Logan straighten to attention. Two shadowy forms appeared through the frosted panel of the inner door and then the door swung open to reveal Keith Mars and a tall, stocky man just behind him.

Keith and his client entered the waiting area and Keith, addressing Logan, said, "It'll be just a moment." And then to his other client, said, "We'll keep in contact, thanks for coming in."

The tall man said his goodbye, not looking once at Logan, and disappeared through the front door without a second glance.

Keith turned to Logan with a wide smile that Logan couldn't quite decide whether it was genuine or not.

"Logan Echolls." Keith greeted warmly, extending his hand to shake Logan's. "It's been a long time. Come on back to my office and we can discuss the details of Ms. Bishop's death. I'm interested to hear exactly what makes you think her death was a homicide."

"Thank you, sir, for agreeing to see me," Logan replied as he followed the PI into the back office. When Keith gestured for him to take a seat, Logan sat but continued, saying, "I know you probably never expected to hear from me, especially regarding anything like this. I appreciate you taking the time to at least humor me, sir. I don't think anyone else would have given me the time of day."

Settling back into his chair, Keith waved a hand and said graciously, "I wouldn't have any cases if I dismissed every odd claim. I at least look at all the possibilities; that's Rule Number One in the PI Handbook." He smiled, the lines about his eyes crinkling, "The sad truth is that in Neptune, most of the time, the obvious answer is usually not the right one."

***End Flashback***

Logan had been ridiculously nervous to meet Keith Mars that first night. While Keith and Logan had rarely seen eye-to-eye, it had never stopped Logan from recognizing how smart and perceptive the other man was. It turned out that Logan's nerves were unfounded; not once had Keith held who Logan once was against the man Logan had become. They worked well together professionally, and not once after that initial meeting had Logan felt awkward around the other man.

His thoughts were interrupted when the inner door opened and Veronica emerged from the back office. For a moment, their eyes connected and Logan felt swept back to years ago, when he used to come to the old MI office to see her. It felt like a punch to his gut, but, before he could register it, Veronica broke the contact to gesture him to follow her back to Keith's desk.

They both sat down, she behind the big mahogany desk and Logan across from her. He watched in amusement while Veronica threaded her fingers together and rested her elbows on the blotter; it so reminded him of days past.

Meeting his eye, Veronica said matter-of-factly, "I need to know what you saw the night you pulled Dad from the car." When Logan said nothing, she continued, "Let's start with why you were there in the first place."

He could see that her walls were up around her. There was no softness or vulnerability in her eyes like before at the hospital. Logan sighed. He knew that he would never get away with vagueness with this side of Veronica. She'd never put up with it before, and it was obvious that she wouldn't put up with it now either. "A tiger never changes its stripes, eh, Veronica?"

Her gaze narrowed, cold. "I don't like this anymore than you do, you know. Interviewing you, of all people, is not on my list of top ten best ways to pass the time. Let's just get this over with." She gestured to his shoulder. "Someone might be trying to get rid of you for some reason. If what you saw that night is that reason, then you and Dad both are in some serious danger."

"Fine. You're right." Inwardly squirming, Logan began, "I hired Mars Investigations to look into Carrie's death. You probably read on the tabloid covers that they just discovered it was murder. Gia Goodman, Stu Cobbler, and Luke Haldeman have been charged with her murder and with covering it up. I requested that my name and MI's name be kept out of the press for various reasons, but mostly for privacy. Very few people know that I hired MI; Lamb was all too happy to keep that tidbit out of the reports." He shrugged. "Some things never change with the Balboa County Sheriff these days, no matter which Lamb wears the badge."

"Okay, well, I already figured most of that all out from Dad's paperwork I found. But the case had been solved and the evidence taken to the Sheriff's office that morning. What were you doing at Dad's place of residence?"

"To pay him. Which reminds me." With his good hand, Logan unzipped the outer pocket of his laptop case and pulled out the check he'd written that afternoon. He slid it across the desk to her. "He was going to tell me what I actually owed him that night. I gave him a retainer when I hired him, but I know you might need the funds now for things; I can pay you the rest when you find his invoice."

Delicately, Veronica picked the check up with both hands and stared at the total. "I don't need your money, Logan."

He had to work hard to not roll his eyes. Of course she'd say that; he'd been expecting it. "That's not what this is and you know it, Veronica. Check his books. I owe him at least that much, probably closer to double that. He did a lot of digging." For some reason, Logan couldn't bring himself to say Keith's name. "And he succeeded. He proved what I knew to be true; Carrie didn't kill herself. For that alone, any amount he charged me would be worth it."

Veronica was silent, her eyes still fixed on the check. Finally, she looked up and said quietly, "You must have really loved her. To not believe she'd do that and to fight to prove it, despite the evidence."

Logan shut his eyes. He wanted to deny it, to deny his love for a girl who had been such a mess in real life. But it really wasn't any of Veronica's business. His heart shuttered closed. The less she knew about it, the better off he'd be. So, in answer, he told her, "Carrie was more than what the tabloids painted her to be. And if I'm the only one who cared enough about her to question her death, so be it. I wasn't here when it happened; I was on a damn ship thousands of miles away, and because of that I couldn't help but question the death of someone who was important to me. I just wanted peace of mind. Your dad is good at his job. He proved to me and the world that my suspicions were correct. I'll always be grateful."

For a moment, they both remained silent. It was Veronica that broke the silence, redirecting the conversation back to its original direction.

"It we get what happened that night out of the way, then we can work on your shooting and see if they are connected," Veronica's tone was flat. "What exactly happened? Why were you at his house, Logan?"

He leaned forward and kept his eyes hooded when he answered. "Your dad asked me to come to his house, I don't know why he chose there and not the office. He'd taken everything to Lamb earlier that day. We were…" he paused, keeping his eyes focused on his hands. "We were going to share a drink and celebrate, and also finish up the last bit of paperwork."

Veronica nodded slowly. "That makes sense. The case file was on the kitchen table as if he planned to go through it. What next?"

He drew in a breath. "Well, I got there just a bit early. I parked across the street and just as I was crossing it, I heard the noise of the truck coming down the street. It broadsided the car. I went to investigate and realized it was…it was your dad in the passenger's seat. I pulled him out and just as I did, the truck came back and hit the car a second time."

"Did you see anyone in the truck? Any special markings? Anything at all?" Veronica's voice cracked.

His gaze sharpened on her when he heard the break in her voice and he shook his head in regret. "It was a rusty old pickup truck. Everything happened so fast. All I could think about was getting him out of that car as quickly as possible."

"Mac said you called her. Thank you."

"You've already thanked me. Like I said, I didn't do anything that anyone else wouldn't have done. It was nothing."

"Has Lamb questioned you at all about that night?"

Logan felt the intensity of her gaze and he regretfully told her, "No. I'm sorry. The EMTs got us both out of there before Lamb had even arrived at the scene. No one has ever contacted me about that night; not at the time, and not afterwards either."

"But they knew it was you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, they knew it was me all right. Though the lack of cameras and paparazzi might have thrown them off for a few minutes."

He watched her jot something down. "And what happened after the second hit?"

"By the time I looked up some neighbors had come out. Someone called 911. I was focused on your father."

"You didn't see anything else suspicious?"

"God, Veronica, isn't it enough that I kept your father from dying on the sidewalk?" Before he could keep his temper in check, Logan bit out, "Oh, wait, I'm pretty sure I saw a bumper sticker on the truck as it zoomed off. It said, 'how's my driving, call 800-thugs-r-us.'"

"Oh, there's the Echolls charm I've missed so much," Veronica quipped back. "I only meant maybe there was someone on the street that seemed…I don't know, off somehow. Like maybe you'd seen an accomplice casing the house or the neighborhood. I meant nothing by it." Her tone softened. "It's been a really long time since I've looked into a case, especially…especially one that's so personal. Forgive me for asking redundant questions; I don't want to miss anything."

Feeling a bit of remorse for his outburst, Logan played with the sleeve of his shirt and dropped his eyes from hers. "To be perfectly honest, I didn't see anything more than what I've told you. When I saw Keith in that car, my only thought was to get him out of harm's way. I've been trained in combat; I should have been aware of everything around me. To a certain extent I was. But I couldn't tell you if there was a suspicious looking neighbor. No one was on the street when I got out of my car. Of that much I'm positive."

"And you didn't see who shot you yesterday?"

"No."

Veronica pushed herself away from the desk and stood up. "I think you're being targeted because of something you saw that night, or something that someone thinks that you saw. But I have to be certain. Are you sure that no one else was involved in Carrie's death besides the three that were arrested? And are you certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that those involved do not know that it was you who instigated the case against them? "

"I'm sure. Luke, Stu, and Gia all think that the sheriff's office figured it out. Your dad kept both of our names out of everything. He let Lamb take all of the glory. As of this moment, the only people who now know I hired your dad are Mac, Dick, and you. No one else, not even the sheriff's department, knew that I was the one to hire MI. I'm pretty sure Keith gave them the impression that it was Carrie's dad who had hired him. That was my agreement with your father from the beginning and he kept his side of it. The only reason Mac found out was because she's smart and put it together; and Dick—well, Dick doesn't know the whole truth of it, but if he'd took some time, he'd get it. And then that leaves you."

Midway through his explanation, Veronica had moved over to look out the window. Logan could tell that she was listening, but her attention was divided between him and something below on the street.

"Veronica?"

"Shh…" She motioned with her hand indicating she was concentrating, so he stood up and came around the desk to stand beside her. He peered out of the window from over her shoulder. Softly, she asked, "Did someone come with you?"

"No…" At first, Logan didn't see what she was looking at. Then something caught his eye; a movement near the corner of the building. A second later it happened again, and then Logan more clearly saw a man, wearing a baseball cap and a black sweatshirt, suspiciously loitering.

Silently they watched the man approach Logan's car, keeping his head down the entire time. Logan drew a deep intake of breath when the man stopped and looked into the convertible. "What the hell?"

The man barely glanced around before leaning into the back seat.

Beside Logan, Veronica turned away from the window and grabbed a long-lensed camera from the top of a file cabinet. Turning back, she put the camera to her eye and began snapping pictures.

"He's pretty damn ballsy to be tampering with my car in broad daylight!" Logan said, becoming increasingly irate. "How the hell do you open this window? Forget it; I'm going down there to kick some black-sweatshirt ass!"

"Logan." Veronica lowered the camera to look at him. "You're in no state to kick any ass."

At that exact moment, the wound at his shoulder gave a stab in pain, which pissed him off even more. Logan glared down at the street and attempted to compose himself. Damn it all to hell, Logan thought to himself, I've always hated it when she's right. "Well, then what am I supposed to do? Watch him hotwire my car? Or better yet, throw my keys down to him to make the job easier?"

"No," Veronica answered with a voice that was infuriatingly calm, "We watch him plant whatever it is that he's planting and see if we can figure out what he's about."

"Shouldn't we just call the cops?" The burst of laughter that erupted from her made him smile awkwardly. "It was just a suggestion, sheesh."

"Logan, if what I'm thinking is true, then that man down there is a cop. A call wouldn't do any good."

Veronica lifted the camera back to her eyes and snapped some additional pictures.

"It looks like…"

"Yeah, he's leaving."

A/N Thanks for reading! If you have time, I appreciate your reviews! Thanks!