AN: Hi! Um... Hello! It's been a minute.
Thank you to everyone who sent me encouraging messages (I'm looking at you AlltheVMFF), left comments, put out positive vibes - all of it! This story has been going for 10 years... I just don't even know what to do with that, lol. Hopefully, it won't take 10 more to finish.
*throws chapter and runs*
Logan nudged the door to MI open with his shoulder, balancing a tray of steaming cups and a paper bag with grease stains spreading at the corners. An urgent call from one of Keith's other clients cut their breakfast plans short, so Keith assigned him to retrieve the food.
"Coffee delivery," Logan announced, hoisting the tray like a trophy. His voice rang a little too loud in the small room.
"Praise be to the caffeine gods," Keith said with a smirk, reaching for a cup.
Logan moved to set the rest of the cups and bag on the table.
"Not there!" Veronica appeared at his side, a clipboard in hand filled with neat rows of her handwriting. "Put that on the desk. I've got a system going here."
She set a tiny black camera, its lens gleaming under the overhead light, on the table next to a bundle of cords.
Logan had helped Veronica with a few of her operations since rekindling their friendship. But this was a whole other level.
In front of the old couch, a large folding table replaced the usual coffee table. Cameras, microphones, and neatly coiled cords lay in precise rows, each tagged with color-coded labels. Veronica hovered over the setup, her pen tapping against her clipboard as she scanned the list. The faint smell of dust and electrical tape lingered in the air.
"Didn't you already do this?"
Keith clapped his shoulder, and to Logan's surprise, he didn't flinch.
"We always do a double check. This equipment is expensive, and some of it is"—he tugged his collar dramatically—"not entirely legal. We can't risk leaving any of it behind."
"And check!" Veronica tossed the clipboard onto the old sofa. "We'll do this again when we clean out and again when we get back to the office while we put everything away."
Keith had always seemed stern and protective, but working with him now revealed a sharp intelligence. It was another piece of the puzzle falling into place—one that deepened Logan's trust in both Marses.
Logan replayed Veronica's words from last week: Who would the Kanes cover for? The more he worked with Keith, the clearer it became—Keith hadn't botched Lilly's case. Which meant Lilly's murderer was still out there, shielded by the Kanes' lies.
Keith still had all those files—the ones Logan had helped scan. Was he quietly working the case, too?
Despite his now racing thoughts, his hands moved automatically as Keith handed over a bundle of microphones wrapped in soft cloth. He tucked them into the fake catering company bag. The faint scent of coffee and vanilla air freshener clung to the bags.
"All right, kids. You take this load to the Casablancas house. I'll be along to set up my end of the surveillance after I pick up the van from Cliff. Veronica, I need a quick word with Logan."
She huffed, but shrugged and headed out the door.
Keith's sharp gaze pinned Logan in place. "You'll be on your best behavior." His tone was light, but the steel beneath it was unmistakable.
"I will, sir."
"My daughter isn't just a toy, or a passing entertainment."
Logan swallowed hard, resisting the urge to deflect with sarcasm. Instead, he met Keith's gaze, steady, determined to prove he was serious.
"No. She isn't. I swear." Heat climbed up Logan's neck, and his ears felt hot. He gripped the back of his neck, tugging on his hair. "I care about her. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time. Maybe ever. I've messed up before, but I'm not going to screw this up."
He hoped he was telling the truth.
Keith's expression softened—but this time, there was something else beneath it. Consideration. A beat passed, just long enough for Keith to really look at Logan. Maybe for the first time, he saw what Veronica had been seeing. Not just a reckless kid trying to win his daughter over, but someone who was trying. Someone who wanted to be better.
Keith let out a quiet sigh, barely noticeable, and squeezed Logan's shoulder.
"Good. We all make mistakes, Logan. What matters is how you handle what comes after." His voice turned brisk again, easing the moment away. "All right, enough of the heavy stuff. Let's catch us a cheater."
His sudden grin caught Logan off guard, but it was a relief to see the stern father ease up
Keith held open the door and Logan followed him out of MI. Before getting in Veronica's car, Logan turned back to Keith.
"If we catch my dad"—he cleared his suddenly dry throat—"Aaron. Can I have copies of the video?"
Keith's eyebrow rose. "Is that something you think is likely, Logan?"
He nodded, releasing a breath. "It is."
"Let me think about it. If we do, you and I can discuss it further. Okay?"
A biting response stirred in Logan's mind, but he shoved it down. "Yeah, okay. Thanks."
This being civil with the adults in his life—well, Veronica's life—had its challenges. Though he liked to think he was getting better at it. It didn't hurt that he had a very good reason now.
Logan folded himself into the passenger side of Veronica's car. The vanilla air freshener scent from the equipment bags filled the small space.
"What was that all about? He show you his gun?"
A laugh startled out of Logan. "Not exactly. No guns were involved, but he questioned my intentions, sort of."
She groaned. "Well, you're here, so it must have gone all right."
"It did. Your dad's a good man. It goes against all my instincts. I'm so used to shitty adults that I think I'd forgotten all those times your family was kind to me."
Veronica's fingers slipped into his, warm and soft against the coolness of his palm, sending a quiet ripple through him.
"I know you want to keep this quiet for now," he said, squeezing her hand. "But tonight is going to test my limits."
She glanced at him as they paused at a red light. "Wait until you see my costume."
He groaned, letting his head bounce against the headrest. "You're going to be the death of me."
He'd just have to hope his costume was substantial enough not to reveal how attracted he was to his… to Veronica.
Their Sunday date loomed ahead—a chance to talk, but also a chance for Veronica to decide she didn't want this at all.
"Veronica, there's something I meant to tell you yesterday but with everything going on…"
"Sure, lay it on me."
"Right. So, Dick said something to me about the night of Shelly's party."
Her fingers drummed an uneven rhythm on the steering wheel, her lips pressed into a thin, tense line. "If you're about to tell me he was involved while we're on the way to his house…" Her voice faltered, trailing off into uneasy silence.
"No, it's nothing like that." Logan shook his head, his gaze dropping to a loose thread on the knee of his jeans. He tugged at it absently. "But he said something… about that night."
Her head snapped toward him. "You didn't tell him—" Her voice cracked.
Logan reached for her hand, momentarily pulling her focus from the road. "Never," he said, his voice steady, pouring every ounce of sincerity into the word.
Her fingers lingered on his a moment longer before she returned her hand to the wheel. For a second, she let herself feel it—that strange, grounding sense of security that came with Logan being next to her. He had a way of making the chaos around her just a little more manageable.
But she wasn't the kind of girl who leaned on people. Not anymore.
She met his eyes, held them for a beat, then exhaled. "Okay. Go on."
"Dick said he thought you were drunk and sad. If he'd drugged you, why would he even bring it up? I don't think it was him."
"Oh."
Her fingers resumed their tapping, the rhythm slower now as she gnawed on her bottom lip. After a few beats, she gave a small nod and rolled her shoulders.
Logan exhaled, only now realizing how tight his chest had been.
"That rules him out. Well… mostly."
"Mostly?" He frowned, his voice tinged with doubt. "What do you mean?"
"He didn't drug me. But that doesn't mean…" her voice drifted off.
Logan shook his head, his expression thoughtful. "I might've asked him, in a roundabout way, back when we first started hanging out. But I don't think it was him. Dick's very much the kiss-and-tell type."
"Wouldn't he have kept it quiet if he didn't want Madison to find out?" she asked, her voice edged with doubt.
Logan gave a faint, humorless laugh. "Even then, he would've told me. Trust me, I know way more than I ever wanted to about his extracurricular hookups."
She nodded slowly, though the way her brow furrowed suggested she wasn't convinced.
A silence stretched between them before she finally spoke again, her voice cautious. "Have you been… talking to people about what happened?"
Logan stiffened, the weight of the question settling over him. He knew this moment would come eventually.
"Just Wallace," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "And, uh… Casey overheard once. He swore he'd keep it to himself."
Her eyes darted to him briefly, her knuckles whitening as her grip tightened on the steering wheel. "But will he?"
Logan hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Casey's… not like that. He won't say anything. I'm sure of it."
Her fingers resumed their tapping, the rhythm uneven, betraying the nervous energy radiating off her as she mulled over his words. Logan waited, torn between giving her space to think and the urge to say something—anything—to fill the silence. In the end, patience won out, and the car remained quiet as the sprawling Casablancas estate came into view.
Pristine white columns rose above rows of perfectly trimmed hedges. Manufactured perfection, just like all the houses in this part of Neptune.
Beyond the stately facade, chaos reigned. Workers in matching polo shirts darted between crates of champagne, tangles of fairy lights, and a sea of folding chairs, each movement a frenzied attempt to impose order on the scene.
She pulled the car to a stop, cutting the engine as her gaze fixed on the estate. For a moment, her expression was unreadable, a near-blank mask that made Logan's stomach tighten. Just as he was about to ask if she was okay, she turned to him.
"We have a lot to do today," she said, steady but guarded.
"Yeah," Logan agreed, keeping his tone light.
She hesitated, her fingers still resting on the steering wheel. "I want to talk about this more. But I need to stay focused right now."
"Of course." He understood the need to compartmentalize. A thought struck him. "Actually… for tomorrow, I had an idea for our date. I was thinking we could take the boat out. Just us. We could talk. And if things feel right, maybe head to Catalina for lunch?"
Her gaze shifted away, her chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. The hum of an idling catering van parked beside them filled the quiet, stretching the moment to what felt like an eternity. Finally, she turned back to him, a shy smile breaking through the tension.
"I'd really like that."
Logan's stomach swooped as he tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. Its silky texture grounding him for a fleeting second. "I really like you."
He kissed her cheek softly, letting the moment linger as her warmth chased away the cold knot of worry in his chest. For once, he allowed himself to believe this could work—that he could be good enough for her. Whatever Sunday brought, this was real. And he would fight for it.
Veronica's head was in the clouds, but she couldn't afford to let it stay there. She needed to focus—she was in the middle of a covert surveillance operation, for goodness' sake.
Logan's voice echoed in her mind: I really like you. A warmth spread through her chest despite herself. Being friends with Logan had been one thing. This—whatever this was—felt surreal, yet so right.
She shook her head.
Focus, Veronica. Save the teenage hormones for tomorrow.
Her eyes darted around the third guest bedroom, taking in its sparse furnishings and bare walls. The room was functional but uninspired, with beige walls, a plain double bed, and a single side table topped with a dim glass lamp.
No ceiling fan.
Not even a single ornamental vase or overstuffed chair to work with. How was this the same house dripping with wealth and extravagance?
The camera she'd pulled from the bag was great at catching a side angle, but it was a little on the bigger side. Who'd have thought she'd be lamenting the lack of designer details?
"I guess they didn't want to pay the interior designer to do this room," Logan said, mirroring her thoughts.
"Any thoughts on where to put this?"
Logan walked through the room again, then paused and pointed at the top of the wall.
"Vent?"
"Oh! Like Lilly used to do. Good thinking."
"Ha! I taught Lilly that trick. I'll grab the stepladder. I don't think you'll be able to reach this, even with it."
"Har har har. I'm short."
Logan turned on his heel, and before she could register what was happening, she was airborne. She gasped, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he spun them both in a circle. Her laughter filled the room, and for a moment, the heaviness of the day lifted.
When he set her down, his hands lingered on her waist, and his smile softened. "You're the perfect size for that," he said, brushing a kiss against her forehead, the tip of her nose, and then her lips.
His lips met hers in a featherlight press, a quiet echo of the one they'd shared on the beach. But when she leaned in, Logan pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her with a certainty that sent a slow, delicious heat curling through her veins.
He caught her lower lip between his, teasing, his tongue following in a slow, deliberate slide. His hand traced the column of her throat, fingertips brushing heat into her skin, and when he urged her closer with a firm press to her lower back, a soft moan escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Nothing had ever felt like this—like drowning and burning all at once. The kiss was unhurried but consuming, unraveling her with every shift, every lingering touch. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, her body molding to his like it had always belonged there.
She should stop. They had things to do. But then his hand skimmed over her waist, fingers grazing the dip of her hip, and whatever rational thought she had left slipped away, lost in the heat between them.
Veronica leaned into Logan's chest, guiding them backward until the bed hit the back of his knees.
Logan dropped onto the bed with a soft thud, and Veronica followed, straddling his lap, her movements slow, testing. A shiver ran through her as she felt him hard beneath her, the reality of it sparking something heady and electric in her veins. A whisper of doubt flickered at the edges of her mind, but it was drowned out by the thrill of knowing—she had done this to him. And Logan… Logan was steady, warm, wonderful. He was safe.
He gripped her hips and helped her set a slow, torturous rhythm of aligning their bodies, chasing the pleasure it created. He took control of their kisses too, slowing them into long drugging tastes of each other.
A restless, smoldering heat flickered at the edges of her awareness, just out of reach.
"Please," she begged against his lips.
"God." He kissed her hard, then moved his lips to her cheek and neck as his hips rolled beneath her. "Fuck," he mumbled against her pulse.
The shrill ring of her phone shattered the moment. Veronica jolted so hard she nearly tumbled off Logan's lap. Only his quick grip kept her steady.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket. "It's my dad," she whispered, her voice equal parts panic and mortification.
Logan groaned, his head falling back against the bed. "Fuck. Of course, it is. Perfect timing, as always."
"What's up Daddy-O?" She hoped she sounded cool and calm, not like the sex crazed teen she currently was.
"I don't have a feed from camera three. Is it connected?"
Logan dragged his hands down his face, fingers pressing into his temples before raking through his hair.
"Not yet. We had some trouble finding a spot. We're in the process of trying out the air vent."
"Okay, sweetie. Let me know when you connect."
"Will do," she said, and hung up.
"Cockblocked by your dad." Logan let out a long breath, adjusted his pants, and stood up. "I guess I should just be glad the camera wasn't connected. I'm pretty sure I'd be staring down the barrel of his gun otherwise."
"Oh, don't be silly. He'd never point the gun at you, just flash it in a threatening manner."
Logan laughed and grabbed the step ladder.
"Infinitely better. Grab me the screwdriver."
She pulled two out of the supplies bag and held them up for him to choose.
"Do you think anyone ever looked behind the vents in Lilly's room?" she asked as Logan unscrewed the vent.
"Why would they?"
"They searched her room. Remember the picture I showed you?"
"Huh. Hand me the camera."
She held it out and then watched him fiddle with it.
"You should ask your dad. He'd know, wouldn't he?"
"Maybe."
She'd been wondering more and more if she needed to finally admit that she'd been looking into Lilly's death. She suspected he might still be, but he would not approve of her little side project.
Though it wasn't so little anymore. She'd found several pieces of contradictory evidence already. And now she and Logan were supposed to look into the medical examiner. But what if they tripped some sort of digital monitor? Things might be getting too dangerous to do on her own. Not to mention the complication of Logan's home life. It wasn't safe for him to get caught up in this, either.
"What if we told my dad what we'd found?"
"I thought you didn't want him to know," he said, replacing the vent cover.
"I didn't. But things are different now. I feel like the stakes have changed. I don't know."
Logan climbed down the stepladder and stood in front of her.
"I want you to be safe. If you want to tell your dad, I'll be there with you, or not, if you prefer. If you're right"—he pressed a finger to her lips—"which I'm very concerned you are, then you could be in danger."
His hand dropped to her neck, and he caressed her jaw with his thumb. She leaned into the touch. She'd missed being touched so much. Having him back in her life had woken up those lost parts of herself.
He pressed his lips to hers, once, twice, and a third time. Then rested his forehead against hers. "I can't bear the thought of someone hurting you when all I want to do is protect you."
She hugged him close, and of course, her phone rang again.
"It's up, Dad."
"Yes, honey, I see you in full color. Now, please tell Logan to keep his hands to himself. Mrs. Casablancas just pulled up."
Veronica shuddered, heat flooding her face. "Oh, God."
Then the weight of what they'd just said hit her. Had he heard?
"Um… you said you could see us in full color—what about sound?"
"No audio. Tell Logan to climb back up there and adjust it."
So, he hadn't heard. At least there was that. Seeing them kiss was bad enough.
"You're not mad, are you?"
Keith sighed, and for a moment, his usual gruffness softened. "No. As Rebecca keeps reminding me, intimacy is a normal part of relationships at your age."
"Dad. Stop. Forever."
"I will if I don't have to see you engaging in it again. But honey, is everything all right?"
Veronica winced, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Of course. Just, you know, it's Logan's first time on a real case."
"Okay. You two be careful. You should probably get changed. Wouldn't want anyone to be suspicious about why you're there."
"Right-o. I'll check in later."
"Be good, Veronica."
"You be good. Bye."
Veronica ended the call and turned to Logan, her cheeks still hot. "We need to pack it all up. Dick's step-mommy is back, and we're on borrowed time."
Logan adjusted his belt and grabbed the step ladder. "Right. Let's not get caught with anything that screams surveillance. Hand me that screwdriver."
The white and silver two-piece bodysuit fit like a glove. It was a good thing it was chillier than normal for October; otherwise, the costume might get too hot. It still might once they were mingling with everyone.
Veronica unzipped the asymmetrically cut motorcycle-style jacket and dug around in the garment bag. At the bottom, she found a silver leotard with a note attached:
To wear under. Even spandex and neoprene can chafe.
Huh. That made sense. She hadn't even considered it the night before when she'd tried the outfit on.
She rolled the pants down and slipped into the leotard. It had a high neck and reasonably wide straps. It probably wasn't meant to show at all, but it was comfortable and pretty enough that she felt like she could leave the jacket unzipped or even take it off if she got too hot.
The door to the guest room clicked just as she pulled the pants up her thighs. She tugged them the rest of the way on quickly and turned to see Cassidy.
He stood frozen in the doorway, his face red, but he didn't look away.
Veronica frowned, her chest tightening. "Beav—Um, Cassidy. Most people knock."
"Sorry, Veronica," he said, tucking his hands into his sleeves and twisting his shoe into the floor. "I wanted to ask you something. You know, before everyone else gets here."
She zipped up her jacket quickly, her unease growing as Cassidy's gaze flicked between her face and her hands. The intense way he stared made her skin crawl.
Veronica forced a tight smile, careful to keep her tone even. "What's up?"
"I feel like there's always so many other people, that you and I never get to, like, just talk," Cassidy said, his voice soft but tinged with something she couldn't quite place—something a little too earnest, a little too fragile. It felt fake.
"That's not a question," she replied, crossing her arms.
A small smile tugged at his lips. It looked practiced, hollow. "Will you hang out with me tonight?"
Veronica's fingers brushed the cool metal of her zipper as she tightened her posture. "We don't exactly run in the same circles."
"That's why I thought tonight could be different," Cassidy said, his tone shifting slightly. The edge of desperation in his voice made her stomach twist.
"Cassidy, I'm working," Veronica said, her voice sharper now. "Your dad hired us. I'm not here for the party. You get that, right?"
"Oh. Right." His smile faltered for a moment before snapping back into place. "Maybe another time, then?"
Veronica hesitated. That thing ingrained in girls—the instinct to be polite, to not hurt anyone's feelings—fought against the sharper, more assertive person she'd become.
"No, Cassidy," she started, her tone firm but not unkind.
The door pushed open again before she could finish. Relief flooded her chest as Logan strode into the room, his presence immediately grounding her.
"Holy shit, Ronnie, you look fucking hot." His voice, full of warmth and teasing familiarity, chased away the chill Cassidy had left behind. Logan's gaze swept over her before he turned to Cassidy. "Oh, hey, Beav. Give us a minute, yeah?"
Logan didn't wait for an answer. He clapped a hand on Cassidy's shoulder and steered him out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Veronica exhaled, her shoulders relaxing as she looked up at Logan. Cassidy was already fading from her mind as Logan smirked at her, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
Dark brown trousers were tucked into lace up leather leg coverings and heavy looking boots. A deep brown bomber jacket emphasized the width of his shoulders, and a white star against a navy blue shirt peeked through. Her breath caught as she spotted the Captain America shield hanging at his side.
"Steve Rogers, as I live and breathe."
"So it's true, you've got a thing for uniforms?" He stepped closer, his eyes roving over her costume, and tugged on the zipper of her jacket.
Did someone turn up the heat? Woof.
"My very own Captain America. Will you protect me?"
"Ronnie, I'm pretty sure Agent 13 protects Steve." He released the zipper, tugged her closer by her hip, and he whispered. "I know you always protect me."
Logan's lips brushed against the shell of her ear, sending shivers straight to her core. She leaned further into him, his hand sliding along her lower back.
"Seriously, though. Did you have to look this good? It's not fair." Logan's voice was low, a teasing lilt curling around the words.
"You're one to talk, Captain America," she shot back, her voice lighter now as she reached out and tugged playfully on the strap of his shield. "Ready to save the day?"
"Always." His lips curved into a lopsided smile, but the way his hand found her hip felt anything but casual. He tugged her closer, his grip firm but gentle, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "But right now, I'm more interested in saving you for myself."
Before she could respond, Logan leaned in, and his lips claimed hers.
The first contact was electric—a jolt that sent warmth flooding through her veins. His mouth moved against hers with a hunger that made her knees weaken, the teasing edge in his voice replaced by something deeper, something raw. Her hands found his chest, the fabric of his costume rough beneath her fingertips, and then slid up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.
His hands spanned her waist, fingers flexing against the snug material of her costume as if he couldn't get enough of touching her. When his tongue flicked against her lower lip, she opened for him. Teeth grazed, tongues tangled, and the world outside of Logan blurred.
Veronica's pulse pounded in her ears, her breath hitching as Logan deepened the kiss. She arched into him, wanting, needing more.
There was no gentle hesitancy left. The heat of their earlier touches roared back to life with an intensity that stole her breath and left her lightheaded. She was falling, and she didn't care, because Logan was right there, holding her like he'd never let her go.
Her lips tingled as they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. Logan rested his forehead against hers, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.
"You're dangerous," he murmured, his voice rough and low.
"Me?" Veronica tried to steady herself, her heart still racing. "You're the one with the super-soldier moves."
He chuckled, the sound rumbling against her as he brushed his thumb over her cheek.
But then her gaze flicked to the corner of the room. Her breath caught, and she pulled back.
Logan frowned, his hands dropping to his sides as he scanned her face. "What's wrong?"
Veronica bit her lip, fighting back a laugh as she pointed to the ceiling. "Nothing," she said, unable to hide her amusement. "Just... thankful I remembered to cut the feed to these cameras while I was changing."
Logan followed her gaze, his lips twitching with a mix of relief and disbelief. "I don't think your dad would've blamed me. I mean, look at you."
She laughed, smacking his chest lightly. "Don't push your luck, Captain."
His hand found hers, giving it a squeeze. "Never. But for the record, you're worth every risk."
A sharp knock rattled the door.
"Ronnie, you and Logan suited up yet?" Dick called through the door.
Logan sighed, pressing his forehead to hers for one lingering moment before stepping back. "Duty calls, Agent Mars."
Keith sat in the dimly lit rental van, the faint hum of electronics filling the confined space. The exterior bore the logo of a local catering company, complete with a fake menu taped to the window, but inside, it was anything but a kitchen on wheels. A tangle of wires snaked across the dashboard, connecting a setup of monitors, receivers, and an audio mixer, each screen flickering with grainy, black-and-white feeds from inside the Casablancas estate.
He adjusted the audio in the various guest rooms, fine-tuning the levels until the conversations came through clearly. The Casablancas' private Wi-Fi network fed the real-time video, though the signal occasionally fuzzed, a reminder that this wasn't exactly state-of-the-art surveillance. Still, it was enough. No one had entered any of the rooms yet, but Keith already felt uneasy about the whole operation.
What kind of grown man calls himself Big Dick? A man compensating for something, clearly. Though not money—his retainer check had cleared without issue.
Keith leaned back in his rickety folding chair, rubbing his temple, the tension in his neck creeping lower into his shoulders. Not for the first time, he thought about leaving Neptune. The Kanes had reach, but so did he. A quieter job in another department, somewhere Veronica could finish high school without daily battles—hell, maybe somewhere with real seasons.
But then he'd see her smile. That sharp wit, that stubborn resilience—she was stronger than he gave her credit for sometimes. And Logan. The boy was wild and scarred, sure, but his feelings for Veronica were unshakable. Taking that away from her felt... wrong.
His phone trilled, breaking the low hum of the van. The number flashed on the screen—familiar, but distant, like a ghost from a different lifetime.
He picked up. "Mars Investigations, you've got Keith Mars."
"Keith. Oh, I'm so glad I got you. It's Lynn Echolls."
Keith straightened, his fingers tightening around the phone. "Lynn. Lovely to hear from you. How've you been?"
"Uh… things could be better. I'm sure you know."
"Mm-hmm. Rough year. If you're looking for Logan, he and Veronica already headed to the party."
"Oh, I know. I'm glad they're together. That's not why I called." Lynn hesitated, her voice lowering, barely above a whisper. "The kids don't know I overheard them, but I know what's going on tonight. And I'd like to retain your services too."
Keith's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, Lynn, I'm not sure I follow."
She let out a soft laugh—nervous, frayed at the edges. "I know you're there to catch that awful Sadie. But I need something else... I need... evidence. Something I can use if… Just something I can use."
Keith stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"Let's not pretend, Keith. I've ignored it for years, but things are changing. Escalating. I need leverage."
Keith let out a short laugh, more disbelief than humor. "Funny you mention it—Logan's already asked me to help."
"He did?" Lynn's voice sharpened with worry. "You won't go to the police, will you? I already told Veronica that's too risky."
Keith went still. The police? That wasn't the response of a woman looking for proof of an affair. "Lynn, I meant photos of Aaron cheating. What are you talking about?"
"Oh! Nothing. Nothing, of course."
Keith's fingers curled around the phone. His voice was low, steady. "Lynn, I think it might be time for you and I to have a conversation."
Silence.
Then, a sigh. Heavy. Defeated.
"That's fair," she said at last. "Aaron's heading out of town tomorrow for a week. He won't be here to interfere."
"Good. Let's plan for tomorrow. And Lynn—be careful tonight."
A pause. Then, barely above a whisper: "Logan can stay with you, right?"
"Of course. Logan's always welcome."
"Thank you, Keith. For everything."
Keith set the phone down, staring at the monitors, but his mind was elsewhere. Something wasn't adding up.
There was more happening here than anyone was letting on.
Music played throughout the Casablancas' house, the bass steady and persistent, like a pulse just beneath the surface. Veronica stood at the edge of the main room, her silver-and-white costume catching the light from the multiple disco balls. She scanned the room; her practiced smile in place as she held a cup of sparkling water.
Welcome to Neptune's gilded halls of privilege—expensive costumes, free-flowing champagne, and laughter that's a little too loud, a little too fake. These are the people who turned on me without a second thought.
But they were also the people whose misbehavior put food on her table. So, she was here, and she'd help her dad catch their man—well, woman, as it was tonight.
Across the room, her gaze snagged on Logan, still a sight to behold in his Captain America costume. The shield slung over his shoulder gleamed, and his easy confidence had him standing out even in a room filled with Neptune's elite.
Before she could move toward him, a figure in a tight, shiny, and very revealing Captain America-inspired outfit sauntered up to him. Sadie Casablancas.
Veronica bristled, her fingers tightening around her cup as she watched Sadie flip her blonde hair over her shoulder and sidle closer to Logan. Her red, white, and blue corset barely passed as a costume, and the matching thigh-high boots clacked against the tile as she stopped in front of him, planting a hand on her hip.
Veronica couldn't hear them, but Sadie's body language was loud and clear. If she didn't know that Logan was disgusted by Sadie, she might have been jealous.
Less than a minute after her approach, Logan walked off, leaving Sadie looking confused.
Veronica bit back a laugh, marveling at Logan's ability to cut someone down without them even realizing it.
Sadie didn't linger long, though. Instead, she drifted toward the bar, likely scouting for her next conversation target.
Veronica exhaled and moved along the edge of the room, careful to keep her focus sharp despite the distraction. There was work to be done tonight, and she needed to monitor Sadie. She'd made her first move, but this wasn't a honey trap. Logan would not be helping them get the evidence Big Dick needed for a clean divorce.
"Looking for someone?" Logan's voice teased behind her, warm and familiar.
She turned, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "Just scoping out our target."
Logan stood there, impossibly handsome in his Captain America costume, the cocky grin on his face nearly eclipsed by the sharp glint in his eyes. Almost.
"Did you see Sadie try to corner me? Apparently, matching costumes are all the rage," he said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. "I had no idea 'Sexy Captain America' was part of the Marvel canon."
"Must've missed that one," Veronica said, raising an eyebrow. "How'd you handle it? Diplomacy or tactical retreat?"
"Neither. I told her she made me want to recite the Declaration of Independence.," Logan said, his grin widening. "Pretty sure she thought I was complimenting her."
Veronica laughed softly, shaking her head. "Your noble sacrifices never cease to amaze me, Rogers."
Logan took a step closer, his hand brushing hers, the warmth seeping through the thin fabric of her glove. "Seriously, though. How about you take a break from playing secret agent? Mingle. Pretend it's a party and not one of your stakeouts."
Veronica rolled her eyes but didn't argue. "I'm fun. Watch this." She raised her glass of water in a mock cheer, took a deliberate sip, and set it down with exaggerated flair. "See? Party animal."
"Save a dance for me?" Logan asked.
"Wouldn't miss it. Now go. I need to keep an eye on Sadie until I get the all clear from Dad."
Logan didn't press, though she saw the flicker of disappointment in his eyes as he walked toward Dick, already surrounded by a gaggle of girls.
Once he was out of earshot, Veronica moved toward the far end of the room. The hallway leading to the guest rooms was quieter—the music muted. She froze when she caught Aaron Echolls' familiar baritone, sharp with anger.
"Stay away from my son," Aaron hissed.
Veronica slipped behind a decorative column, peeking just enough to see him towering over Sadie Casablancas, her posture relaxed despite Aaron's obvious fury.
Sadie tilted her head, smiling in a way that made Veronica's skin crawl. "Why, Aaron? Afraid I'll corrupt him?"
Aaron stepped closer, his voice lowering but no less venomous. "Logan doesn't need someone like you dragging him down. I'm warning you, Sadie."
Sadie smirked, running a finger along the lapel of his jacket. "You're really working overtime playing protector, huh?"
Aaron chuckled, but the sound lacked humor. "Just keeping an eye on things." His gaze flickered—not at Sadie, but past her, toward the room where Veronica was lurking in the shadows. It was quick, barely noticeable, but Veronica's pulse skipped. He couldn't have seen her, could he? Had he overheard what she told Logan?
Sadie laughed softly, leaning in as if to share a secret. "I'll leave him to his sweet little high school girls. But what about you?" Her hand grazed his chest. "Your wife seems… distracted."
Veronica's stomach churned. It was one thing for a client to suspect his wife of cheating—another to watch her brazenly proposition someone. And not just anyone. Her husband's friend. A major movie star.
Aaron didn't pull away immediately, and for a second, she thought he might actually take her up on whatever she was offering.
He stepped back, his eyes twinkling like they did when he flirted in his cheesy action movies. "You're playing a dangerous game," he said before brushing past her.
Sadie watched him go, her smirk firmly intact, her eyes shining with satisfaction.
Veronica exhaled quietly from her vantage point, her mind racing.
Her fingers itched for her phone, and she quickly made her way to a quieter corner near the guest rooms. She pulled out her cell and dialed her dad.
"Hey, Dad," she said, keeping her voice low. "Quick update: I saw Aaron and Sadie together. He warned her to stay away from Logan, and she, uh... propositioned him."
Keith's tone sharpened on the other end. "Propositioned? How exactly?"
"Let's just say subtlety isn't her strong suit," Veronica replied, scanning the room to make sure no one was paying attention. "I'm not sure if he'll take her up on the offer. Definitely worth keeping an eye on."
Keith sighed. "I've got it logged. Stick to the plan, but don't take any unnecessary risks, okay?"
"Always, Dad," she said, her tone light to keep him from worrying. "Talk later."
She ended the call and tucked the phone back into the small pocket in her body suit.
Just as she was about to step out of her hiding spot, her eyes caught a familiar figure slipping down a side hallway. The man glanced over his shoulder before ducking into one of the guest rooms. Duncan?
Veronica slipped out of the shadows and noted that he'd entered the third guest room. She made a mental note to mention it to her dad later, filing it alongside her earlier observations.
Her practiced smile returned as she reached the bar, seamlessly blending back into the revelry, though her mind remained on high alert.
"Veronica!"
She turned to see Meg Manning waving at her from the makeshift dance floor. Meg looked radiant in a soft pink fairy costume, glittering wings shimmering as she bounced toward her.
"Hey, Meg," Veronica said, forcing a smile.
"You've been hiding in the shadows all night. Come on, you have to dance with me!"
"I don't know, Meg. I'm not really—"
"Nope! No excuses!" Meg grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the dance floor with surprising strength.
Veronica laughed despite herself, letting Meg lead her. The music shifted to something upbeat, and for a moment, Veronica allowed herself to forget about Aaron, Sadie, and Duncan.
Meg twirled her, and Veronica couldn't help but smile, the tension in her chest easing slightly. She didn't trust moments like this—not in Neptune, not in her life—but maybe, just for a moment, she could pretend.
Logan leaned against the bar, his eyes fixed on the dance floor. Veronica was swaying her hips in small, circular motions to the beat of the music. To most, she looked like any other girl letting loose at a party, but Logan could see the stiffness in her movements. She was performing, her every gesture deliberate, carefully calibrated for their cover.
It pained him to watch her like this. She was always so graceful, so in control. Athletic, flexible… His thoughts slipped, unbidden, to memories of her grinding on his lap earlier. He bit the inside of his cheek to rein in the rush of heat coursing through him.
This taking it slow plan was not going how he'd imagined, much to his delight. Mostly.
When they were alone, the tension between them was electric, almost unbearable. But here, in the middle of the '09er chaos, he was reminded of how much he still had to make up to her.
His gaze hardened as Sadie Casablancas sauntered past him, her exaggerated swagger drawing the attention of all the horny teenagers. She stopped in the middle of the dance floor and fixed her eyes on him, her red lips curling into a sultry smile.
Sadie strolled over, planting herself in front of him with a cocked hip. "Well, well, Cap, we meet again," she purred.
Logan raised a brow, his expression unchanging. "Right. Still not interested."
He brushed past her without waiting for a response, his focus back on Veronica. His pulse kicked up as he crossed the room toward her. He told himself it was part of the act, but he knew better. The truth was, he wanted to touch her. Needed to.
He came up behind her, slipping an arm around her waist and aligning his hips with hers. His hand brushed over her stomach, his fingers splaying out below the hem of her cropped jacket. She tensed for a moment, and he leaned in close. "Relax, Mars. It's me."
Her body softened slightly, but her voice was dry. "What are you doing, Logan?"
"Keeping our cover," he murmured, his lips close to her ear. She shivered at his words. "This is a party. Dancing is the perfect way to watch Sadie." He turned them so said was in their line of sight.
"She's heading back down the hall. Why does she keep going back there?"
"No clue, but if she's meeting someone your dad has it covered."
He turned her gently in his arms once Sadie disappeared from view, and guided her hands to loop around his neck. "There," he said softly. "That's better."
"This is completely unnecessary—"
"Come on, pep squad Veronica. I know you know how to move your hips. We've got a couple of minutes before she's back. Dance with me."
His hands settled on her hips, urging her to sway with him. He moved against her to the rhythm of the music. "Relax, it's just me. We've danced like this before," he reminded her, his tone teasing.
FLASHBACK
The gym was a swirl of color and light, the makeshift decorations doing their best to distract from the fact that this was just another Neptune High dance. Logan leaned lazily against the refreshment table, sipping his third cup of—unspiked—punch and watching the crowd. His gaze kept drifting to Veronica, sitting at a table near the wall, fidgeting with the strap of her pale yellow dress.
Her smile was small but genuine as she laughed at something Duncan said. She looked beautiful in a quiet, understated way that stood out against the glitter and sequins of their other friends. Logan's chest tightened, and he told himself it was only because he wasn't used to seeing her like this—dressed up, out of her element. Not because he wanted to cross the room and—
"What are you staring at?" Lilly's voice broke through his thoughts. She slipped an arm around his waist, her body leaning into his as she followed his line of sight. "Ronica? Aw, doesn't she look adorable tonight? I tried to talk her into something a little more vavavoom, but she refused. She wasn't even sure she wanted to come, you know. I had to practically drag her out of her house."
Logan's throat felt dry. "Yeah, she looks… nice."
Lilly turned her sharp blue eyes on him, a smirk playing on her lips. "Just nice?"
He shrugged, trying to act casual. "You know I only have eyes for you, Lils."
Lilly scoffed. Her gaze flicked back to Veronica, then to Duncan, who was already making his way to the dance floor, leaving Veronica behind.
"There goes Donut off to talk to his soccer people… again. Poor Veronica. She's been practicing her moves in front of her mirror all week." Lilly leaned down and grabbed her purse. "I'm going to powder my nose. Be good while I'm gone, lover." She winked and sauntered away, glancing back and blowing kisses until she disappeared though the doors out to the hall.
Logan sighed, setting down his cup. He looked back over to where Veronica was sitting. Still alone. Duncan could be so obtuse sometimes. Well, if he wasn't going to dance with her, someone should.
He downed the last of his drink and made his way across the room. Veronica looked up as he approached, her brows furrowing in mild confusion.
"Looking lonely over here, Ronnie," Logan said, extending a hand. "Mind if I cut in before you start a staring contest with the disco ball?"
Veronica rolled her eyes but let him help her to her feet. "How chivalrous of you."
"I'm no prince," he said with a grin. "In fact, I charge a small fee—one dance."
She laughed softly and let him lead her to the dance floor. The music shifted to a heavy, pulsing beat, the kind that practically demanded full contact.
Logan gripped her waist, drawing her in with the rhythm. She hesitated only a moment before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. There was barely any space between them now, the beat guiding their movements as they fell into sync.
"You're surprisingly good at this," Veronica remarked, her tone light but her gaze more serious.
"Don't sound so surprised," Logan quipped. "I've got moves."
"Oh, I'm sure you do," she shot back with a smirk. But her smile faltered for a moment as their eyes met, the teasing dropping away.
The air between them was heavy, charged, and Logan suddenly felt hyper-aware of every point of contact—the soft brush of her fingertips, the warmth of her breath as she glanced away.
"Did Lilly put you up to this?" Veronica asked with a nervous laugh.
"She might've mentioned something about your mirror dance rehearsals," Logan teased. "But asking you to dance, that was all me."
Veronica groaned, her cheeks flushing. "I'm going to kill her."
"Nah. She's got a point, though."
"Oh?"
Logan tightened his grip on her waist slightly, leaning in enough to make her breath hitch. "All that practice for pep-squad is paying off. Duncan is a lucky guy."
The song ended too soon, and Logan reluctantly let his hands drop. Veronica stepped back, her expression guarded but soft.
"Thanks for the dance," she said, her voice quieter now.
"Anytime, Mars," Logan replied, watching as she slipped through the crowd.
END FLASHBACK
Veronica relaxed and matched his movements. Logan couldn't help the satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. She let him guide her body to the rhythm. If they hadn't been in the middle of this stupid party, he would have pulled her into a dark corner and picked up where they'd left off earlier.
Just as he was considering risking it, her gaze darted over his shoulder, and the spark in her eyes dimmed.
"I need some air!" she said, pulling away.
Surprised, Logan let his arms drop and stepped back. "Sure. Okay. I'll come with you."
She hesitated, her arms crossing over her chest. "Or… you can grab us something to drink and meet me outside."
He studied her for a beat, and nodded. "Your preferred beverage?"
"Something in an unopened can," she said, her eyes scanning the crowd.
"Unopened can. Got it." He tugged her into a quick hug, his lips brushing her temple. "You want me to come now?"
"No. I need a minute. I'll be right by the pool."
He watched her weave through the crowd, her slight frame slipping past their classmates with practiced ease. She moved like she belonged, but he knew better. Beneath the practiced confidence was the Veronica he knew—the one who was always scanning, always calculating. She wasn't just leaving for air; she was processing something, putting pieces together, even if she wasn't ready to say it out loud.
He didn't like letting her out of his sight, but he'd be quick.
Drinks in hand, Logan made his way toward the French doors that led to the pool. As he reached them, his phone vibrated in his pocket.
"Hello?"
"Logan, is Veronica with you?" Keith's voice was sharp, no pretense of small talk.
"No, I grabbed us sodas. I'm heading to her now." He waved toward the pool where he could see her standing by the far side, her arms crossed. "Is something wrong?"
"As in, you can see her and you're walking to her?" Keith pressed.
"Yes."
"Okay. Okay." Keith exhaled heavily. "She didn't answer her phone. Look, I just witnessed something very concerning between our subject and Duncan Kane. I need you to get Veronica and leave."
"But the—"
"I've got surveillance covered. After what I saw… I should've trusted my instincts. She's not safe there, and you might not be either. Go back to the apartment. Your mom already asked if you could stay with us. Have Veronica call me as soon as you leave."
"I will," Logan promised. The call ended abruptly.
Logan shoved his phone back into his pocket and continued around the pool. As he got closer, he heard Beaver's voice.
"You should be careful around Logan," Beaver said, his tone deceptively light.
"I appreciate the warning, Cassidy, but I can handle myself." Veronica's voice was clipped, her body language defensive.
"It's… I like you, Veronica. I don't want to see you get hurt."
Logan cleared his throat loudly, stepping into view. "There you are. Drinks as promised." He draped an arm over Veronica's shoulders, pulling her close.
Beaver's face betrayed nothing, but Logan's gut churned. This was the second time today he'd found the younger Casablancas cornering Veronica. And now Keith had seen something involving Duncan. Logan knew he wouldn't like it, whatever it had been.
"Thanks. Bye, Cassidy." Veronica said, accepting her soda and turning away from Beaver. "We need to get back inside. I shouldn't have stepped out."
She took his hand and led Logan away from the pool.
"It's fine. Your dad called. He needs us to leave."
"Leave?" she asked, as they reached the French doors.
The doors both burst open and Carrie Bishop emerged, dressed impeccably as Cruella de Vil.
"Logan Echolls," she said, leering at him, then her head tilted. "And Veronica Mars. You know—" she brought an unlit cigarette to her lips, then frowned.
"I know lots of things, Carrie Bishop. But unlike you, I can keep a secret."
Carrie's glare was sharp enough to cut. "Leaving so soon? At least I won't have to worry about walking in on you."
Logan's hand tightened on Veronica's as he guided her away, but she stopped, turning to face Carrie.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Veronica's tone was steady, but Logan could hear the tension beneath it.
Carrie tilted her head, feigning nonchalance as she inspected her nails. "Oh, I think you know. Though I suppose Logan is an upgrade."
Veronica's spine went rigid. "An upgrade from what?"
Carrie smirked wider, savoring the moment. "Don't you mean who? Duncan, of course."
Logan's gut twisted. He reached for Veronica's other hand, trying to steady her. "Come on, let's—"
"When?" Veronica cut him off, her voice cracking despite her best effort to hold it together.
"Shelly's party. I guess you were more distracted than I realized." Carrie's gaze shifted between them. Carrie's smirk froze, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. She looked uncertain. Like she'd expected shock, maybe anger—but not this.
"Don't you remember?" she asked.
The words hit like a sledgehammer. Veronica's breath hitched, and her grip on Logan's hand tightened—too tight, almost painful. She swayed slightly, as if the floor beneath her had shifted.
Logan's pulse pounded in his ears. This wasn't just shaken. This was Veronica coming apart.
Logan moved before he could think, stepping in front of Veronica like a shield.
"Carrie," he murmured, his gaze pinning her in place. "Carrie, I'd consider it a personal favor if you kept this conversation between us."
Carrie's expression softened—surprisingly. "Sure, Logan." Then she looked at Veronica. "Are you okay?"
Veronica opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her throat bobbed in a hard swallow. Finally, her voice emerged—small, fragile.
"No."
Logan slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "We'll figure it out."
Carrie nodded, hesitant now. "If you need… I'm working at the Hut tomorrow. Come by if you have questions."
"We will," he said before steering Veronica toward the exit, relieved they were already away from the prying eyes of the party crowd.
As he turned to lead Veronica away, Logan's eyes flicked toward the house. A shadow moved by the second set of French doors—Beaver. He stood just at the edge of the doorway, watching. Too still. Too calm.
Their eyes locked for a split second before Cassidy's lips curled—too slow, like he was remembering how to smile. Then, just as quickly, he stepped back inside, disappearing into the crowd.
Logan slid his arm tighter around Veronica, and quickened their pace around the other side of the pool toward the back of the house rather than through it.
The air smelled faintly of chlorine and freshly cut grass. Veronica didn't seem to notice their changing surroundings. She clutched her unopened soda can, her hand trembling slightly.
Logan tightened his arm around her shoulders. "We're almost out of here. Keith's expecting us," he whispered.
Veronica nodded, but her gaze flicked back toward the house. "Did he tell you why he wants us to leave?"
Logan exhaled, his jaw tightening. "Something about Duncan. And Sadie… " he let the words trail off.
Before Veronica could respond, they turned from the side of the pool house to the back parking area. They were only a few steps from her car when Beaver appeared, his expression calm. Eerily so.
"Leaving already?" Beaver's voice was light, but there was an edge to it that set Logan's teeth on edge.
"Yeah," Logan said, his tone clipped. "Something wrong, Beav?"
Beaver shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Not at all. Just wondering why you'd leave before the real fun starts. I mean, after all…" He glanced at Veronica, his smile sharpening. "You used to be the life of the party."
Veronica stiffened beside Logan. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing," Beaver said, his tone faux-innocent. "Just reminiscing about how much everyone enjoyed themselves at Shelly's party. Some more than others, right?"
Logan's fists clenched, nails biting into his palm. Heat flared in his chest—his body primed to swing before he even thought about it. But Veronica's fingers curled tighter around his. He exhaled, forcing himself to loosen his grip. Not here. Not now.
"That's enough," Logan said, his voice tight.
Beaver tilted his head, his smirk unshaken. "Relax, Logan. I'm just saying it's a shame you're leaving so soon. You might miss something important."
Veronica's eyes narrowed. "Like what?"
Cassidy hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, before his smile returned. "Guess you'll have to stick around to find out."
Before either of them could respond, Beaver turned and strolled back to the house.
Veronica's hand tightened on Logan's arm. "He knows something," she said, her voice low and urgent.
"Yeah," Logan muttered, his stomach twisting.
They exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them.
"Let's go," Veronica said finally.
Logan nodded and walked around the LeBaron, holding the door open for her. The days of ignoring Beaver were over. He needed to hear what Keith had seen and, for better or worse, they had new leads to follow up about Shelly's party.
It was going to be a long night.