Your go-to headquarters for Veronica Mars meta, fan art, and fandom fun! Please check out our TAGS page to navigate the site! Have a question? Check our FAQ's What would you like to see on VMHQ? Send us an ASK with your suggestions! Follow Us on Twitter Come chat with us on our Discord Server Looking for great fic? Visit our good friends at VM Ficrecs Affiliate Links. Veronica Mars Fan Forum Kristen Bell Fan Forum
TWENTY YEARS of friendship and bonding were celebrated with an epic fic challenge.
Check out all the works in the VM Platinum Anniversary collection featuring ayyohh, cheshirecatstrut, CMackenzie, CMC9205, DarkVoid116, ExcellentlyEllen, Kayte76, Louise88, ModernMyth, & steenbeans.
The collection will be open and the 'wheels of inspiration’ will continue to spin until the end of the year for anyone who still wants to add their contributions, but didn't get a chance to by the original deadline.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Is there a veronica mars discord server? If so can you post the link, I’d love to join
Hey anon, thanks for asking about our Discord server! There is a link on our tumblr homepage inviting everyone to, not only join the server, but to also come rewatch episodes of the original show. The invite link is inside that anniversary rewatch announcement.
You'll find the announcement on the left-hand side, right under the names of the librarians. Click on "Discord Server" and it will bring you right to us! The invitation is set to never expire so you can join at any time.
Hey hey, VM fans, long time! We at VMHQ have risen from the dead, in partnership with the VM Fic Club and AllTheVMFF, to host a series of activities for the platinum anniversary of the Veronica Mars TV show. So with no further ado, here's the first!
The rules are few. Write a fic of 2004 words. Use our special custom Wheel of Prompts to come up with ideas (or don't! Your choice!) Then post your completed story to the challenge library by June 21st. Easy!
Keep an eye out here and on the fic club and AlltheVMFF sites for upcoming fun activities in various venues. We've missed you, VM Fandom! Let's remember the good times, meaning the fabulousness of this community, write some fic, and have some fun.
VM 20th Anniversary Celebration! We're kicking off a year-long party with an epic fanfic challenge! Come join us and the VM Fic Club on Discord for a trip down memory lane.
https://discord.com/invite/2ZzkBTSzbn
https://discord.com/invite/wpdyTyNzJb
And to help inspire your fic writing, we've created "The Wheels of Inspiration"! Give them a spin and watch your next fanfic come to life!
**Disclaimer: This event should in no way be construed as supporting Rob Thomas or his future endeavors. Rob Thomas cannot sink into permanent obscurity fast enough for us. This event is for the fandom and the wonderful fans.
Hey there, friends of VMHQ! Here, at last, is the final chapter of Murder We Wrote, written by @cheshirecatstrut. Hope you all enjoy the story’s conclusion.
Many thanks to all the wonderful authors who participated in this challenge, and the wonderful readers who left comments. VM fandom is the best fandom, and we have appreciated being part of it, through thick and thin, more than we can say. :-)
__________________________________________________________
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE (Part B) by @cheshirecatstrut
[Excerpt from Ruby Jetson’s unpublished manuscript]
“Ugh, why do tunnels have to be all dark, and claustrophobic, and dirty?” Gia performed a full-body wriggle of revulsion, complete with flapping hands. “It’s like, can’t the miners be proud of their work when they’re digging? Maybe put up some stucco, or buy a few plants?”
“God, Gia, it’s a literal hole in the GROUND!” Alexis helped Tilly Craig down the last few flagstone steps, and seated her between Melanie and a hog-tied Duncan against the smooth stone wall. “It’s not like interior decorators are all, ‘PLEASE let me beautify your remote-island service passage! I’ll wind up in Architectural Digest!’”
“Oh, whatever, they could have at least plugged in air fresheners. It smells like the school locker room.” Gia grimaced, waving a hand in front of her nose. “Are the people who built this place barbarians?”
“It’s actually pretty nice, as tunnels go,” Veronica contributed, from the golf cart where she sat with Mac and Susan. “Reinforced ceilings, paved floor, electric lights? Plus gassed-up golf carts, and the door behind the bookshelves is solid steel. If the house above us does catch fire, this is probably the safest place to hide.”
“I think we’ve collected everyone,” Logan called, as he and Casey made it to the bottom of the stairs carrying Norris. They were followed by Wallace and Luke, hauling the groundskeeper, and Dick, supporting a recently-reawakened Viola. “Can someone come bolt the door behind us, so that douchebag can’t circle around?”
“I’ve got it.” Susan hurried up the steps, hugging the wall as they shouldered past with their not-inconsiderable burden. “Do you guys think that maniac’s killed Carrie already?”
“Carrie can take care of herself.” Logan lowered his end of Norris with a grunt. Their resident deputy moaned as he came into contact with the cold floor; no surprise, considering he’d been hit on the head twice in a few hours. “As you very well know--she’s made a habit of rescuing you.”
Susan blushed, glancing away from his disapproving gaze; Logan had been briefed, however, during the summer project, on Carrie’s life of heroism. She’d fought for justice since childhood, helping every victim she met, from Della Pugh to high-ranking political figures. The girl had no clue how to be anything but brave, and he found himself wishing….well.
He belonged to another, after the events of the weekend. But he should have made her take the keys when they narrowly escaped the cave, just in case.
Behind him, the door clanged shut, and the bolt snapped into place. The only remaining illumination came from lights periodically inset into the walls, casting everything outside their yellow beams in deep shadow. At his feet, Norris groaned and sat up, and Logan knelt to prop him against the wall before he fell over.
“Where am I?” Clayton asked, voice slurred. “Last I remember, I was standing in the living room with Carrie, and then I…” he lifted a hand to his forehead, realized there was a note wedged between his fingers, and held it out. “What’s this?”
“In the midst of life, we are in death,” Logan read, then snorted. “Well, that’s both stupid and vaguely threatening. What is this dude’s obsession with Agatha Christie, anyway?”
We’ve reached the next-to-last installment of our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors have taken turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafted their chapter and then “tossed” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knew what would happen, so we expected the unexpected!
The “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags contain all the previous installments, or you can read the story on AO3. --Chapter Thirty- Three(PART A) of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @cheshirecatstrut. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.33, part B of cheshirecatstrut’s installment, and the final chapter of the story!
____________________________________________________________
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE (Part A) by @cheshirecatstrut
“Don’t worry, Meg,” Veronica said--and it felt great to speak the words out of determination rather than guilt. “I’ll find your daughter, and Duncan too, and I’ll figure out who killed Ruby. I inadvertently helped kick-start this mess a long time ago; it’s my responsibility to clean it up, regardless of whether you blame me. Celeste’s already agreed to field expenses, by the way, so don’t even offer to pay me. The way I see it, she owes us both for pain and suffering.”
Meg laughed, a bright and achingly-familiar sound. “And maybe once the dust settles,” V continued, “we could…catch up? It’s been awhile. And it’s not like I’ve made a million new friends in your absence.”
“That would be nice.” Meg’s tone was sincere. “I’ve thought a lot about you and Logan, over the years. Although I admit, it surprised me at first to think of you two TOGETHER.”
“You and me both.” V glanced sideways at her boyfriend, who was lounging with arms crossed, and watching her with total focus. Still, after all these years, his full attention made her flustered. “I’ll call you back at this number when I’ve got something to report.”
Briskly, she closed the phone and glanced sideways at Mac. “So what next?” she asked. “I don’t have the slightest idea how to keep the promise I just made. But Meg being alive makes this case personal.”
“And detectives can only solve personal crimes?” Mac rolled her eyes. “Mars Investigations would be broker than we are already…which is tough to fathom.”
“So what do we still need to figure out, in order to shed light on this coldest of cold cases?” V sprawled onto the couch, picking up a legal pad and pen. “The suggestion box is open.”
Logan lifted his brows, somehow managing to refrain from double entendre. “Personally, I’d like to know how Leo hid or stashed the money he extorted. Because that apartment was modest, and he drives a Hyundai, yet he lifted 500k from Celeste alone. Also, 50k from me,” he added. “Think he’s got a secret villain lair?”
“You’ve been warped by Ruby’s novel,” Veronica said. “It’s probably stashed in an offshore account like YOUR money.”
“Yes, but I’ve got Aaron’s cash in Switzerland because I don’t USE it,” he countered. “Although assuming I don’t re-enlist after my tour’s up in October, that state of affairs might change. Leo, on the other hand, worked hard for his ill-gotten gains. So why didn’t he at least buy a flashy car for his troubles?”
“Because he wanted to hide his crimes?” Veronica shrugged. “Not everyone cares about luxury as much as you do, Logan. Besides, cars that don’t blend are just hubris in law enforcement. If you plan to work for MI, you might need to buy a Hyundai too.”
Logan made a face and opened his mouth to rebut, probably some pungent statement about vehicles beneath his station; but Mac, glancing up from her own notepad, spoke first. “Before you get carried away with banter, here’s another question,” she said. “If Leo didn’t care about the manuscript, which seems to be the case….why did he break into Ruby’s apartment and steal her hard drive? What could she have possibly had on there, other than the book, that he might want?”
“Well, he did obsessively record all his phone calls, like every modern politician,” Veronica said. “Seems to me like you’re volunteering to listen to all of them, in order to answer your own question. And if so, don’t let me stand in your way.”
Logan cackled, and Mac groaned but grabbed her laptop and headphones in tacit agreement. “Meanwhile, I’ll ping all my law-enforcement contacts, and see what I can find out about Leo’s murder investigation,” V continued. “The detective in charge already hates me, so no need to tiptoe around his feelings.”
“Tell Norris I said hi,” Logan quipped as she pulled out her phone. Then he added, with a sigh, “In the meantime, I’ll polish off the rest of this potboiler. Clarence said the last part was interesting; so someone needs to bite the bullet and figure out why.”
[Excerpt from Ruby Jetson’s unpublished manuscript]
V’s whole face flinched, and she writhed in her attacker’s grip; he wasn’t much bigger than her, but he was determined and—EW—impassioned, and his grip wouldn’t loosen no matter how much she scratched and kicked. “Uh-uh-uh,” he chided, voice the barest of mumbles, hot and repugnant against her ear. “You’re not going anywhere just yet. Don’t worry, I won’t kill you or anything, at least not right away…first we’ll have a little fun. Or at least I think it’ll be fun--you might disagree.”
“Veronica!” Mac called, her voice quavering like maybe the attacker hit her too. V bit the hand covering her mouth hard, drawing blood, and her assailant shrieked and yanked it away.
“The killer’s in here!” she yelled, kicking back at his knee, making him curse and stumble. “He’s got me! Run!”
“Now why’d you have to go and say that?” Bad Breath dragged her backwards as the cage rattled and a door slammed. On the floor to her left, Norris groaned. “Don’t you realize you just signed your friend’s death warrant? Can’t have her figuring out who I am, and spilling incriminating details, before my entertaining chess game is done.”
He licked the back of her neck to punctuate, and Veronica head-butted him hard enough to make her ears ring. The cartilage in his nose crunched, and he dropped her abruptly, stumbling away with a growl. She sprawled onto the frigid floor and crab-crawled sideways, searching along the surface for something she could use as a weapon. Her fingers closed around a cold metal rod---fireplace poker, the one Carrie was hauling around for protection…she must have left it behind when she suited up for her snowmobile ride. V jerked as rough fingers closed around her wrist, and she swung from the shoulder as hard as she could, connecting with a crack. The killer shrieked, voice rising rapidly in pitch, and then the lights came back on, blinding everyone.
Follow THIS LINK to read the rest on A03. And see you next week for the finale!
We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!
Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Thirty-Two / PART B of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @mysilverylining. And stayed tuned next week for the conclusion of our story from @cheshirecatstrut!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hey friends! The next chapter of Murder We Wrote, by the wonderful @mysilverylining , is coming, but it won’t post tonight. Keep an eye out, and as soon as it’s done, we’ll put it up on the blog!!
We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!
Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Thirty-Two / PART A of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @mysilverylining. And stayed tuned next week for Chapter Thirty-Two/PART B, also from @mysilverylining.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO / PART A by @mysilverylining
Veronica looked at Logan and then back down to the safety deposit box. “Give a girl a drumroll?”
“Fresh out of sticks.” He shrugged and leaned closer, peering into the metal box as she flipped it open. “Well, that’s...anticlimactic.”
"What were you expecting? A signed murder confession?”
“What I feared was, ‘Logan Echolls: The Unauthorized Biography’, a scrapbook of magazine spreads going back to my birth, and the deed to all her frozen eggs at the fertility clinic.”
“Gross.” Veronica handed him a brownish document envelope with a string closure. “Would you settle for this?”
“If I must.”
Veronica got to work opening the second envelope.
READ THE REST OF THE CHAPTER ON AO3, BY FOLLOWING THIS LINK: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22132021/chapters/64066864
Hey friends! Silvery needs one more week for her magnum-opus Murder, We Wrote chapter. So in the meantime, everyone enjoy the lovely cover art created for the fic, by the wonderful @veronicamarsfanart !!!
And please check back next week, when the story will FOR SURE resume!!
It’s going to take a little longer to post the next Murder We Wrote installment--sometimes real life gets in the way. In the meantime, we’d like to remind everyone there’s a wonderful Murder, We Wrote playlist, created by the fabulous @jjmazzy for everyone to enjoy. Each writer has contributed a song to it that reflects their chapter.
You can listen to the playlist here. And if you’re one of the authors of Murder, We Wrote, and you haven’t added your song, drop us or Jmazzy a line and we’ll make sure that happens.
Thanks for following the story, and we hope you enjoy the wonderful penultimate chapter, coming your way very soon!
We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected! Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3.
We’re taking a hiatus this week, as @mysilverylining works on a super-duper, extra-long chapter full of awesomeness. Check back next Saturday for a new Murder We Wrote installment!
We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!
Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Thirty-One of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @nicemom93. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.32 from @mysilverylining - tag, you’re it!
Cat-rimmed eyes peered out through the slats of a shelf at the end of the closet. That was what had first caught his attention. Now, Logan stared at his own face looking back at him from beside those eyes. Eyes that looked like Carrie's, but were not.
"Oh, man. I thought the crazy-ass murderer wall was insane."
Veronica pushed past Ruby's glittering dresses and reached behind the shelf.
"Where in the hell did she get this?"
The eyes moved back and forth, then vanished briefly, before appearing again, hiding Veronica from his gaze as she pushed whatever it was out to him.
"Take this."
"What is it?" He reached toward her and realized she was handing him a life-sized cardboard cut-out of Ruby, dressed up in her Bonnie DeVille hair and make-up, wearing a short black dress. "Oh, you have to be kidding me."
"I wish I was."
He took cardboard Ruby from her, and she immediately reached behind the shelf again, pulling a second cardboard shape into the open. "And if things weren't already bad enough..."
She balanced the second cut-out beside her, holding it upright with an arm around the waist as she looked up at the cut-out version of Logan, conservatively dressed in slacks and a cream button-up, and shook her head. "I shudder to think what cardboard you and cardboard Ruby have been doing in the last year."
"Oh fuck, no." Logan backed out of the closet with Ruby's image, and Veronica followed with fake him under her arm. Back in the larger bedroom space, she leaned Logan's image against the wall and took Ruby from him, tucking them together before stepping away to admire her handiwork.
"You're a matched set," she said with a grin, and he saw with dismay that she was right. His cardboard doppelganger's hand rested near his hip, and a narrow strip had been cut in the space between his arm and body where Ruby's hand tucked in, notching the shapes together.
"You know what this is from, don't you?" Veronica asked, and Logan nodded.
"It's the date you brokered for me to keep yourself out of jail," he replied. "Where did she get these?"
"I'm guessing Etsy," Veronica said. "You can get pretty much anything you want on the internet."
"You can have life-sized pictures of people made without their permission?"
"You were in the picture together. The poor sucker who created this probably just thought you were a couple."
"Nonononono." He hunched his shoulders up and out, trying to shrug away the idea of he and Ruby as a couple, glaring balefully as Veronica laughed. "I'm glad you're enjoying my pain."
"Oh, quit whining." She stepped back to the cardboard pair, pulling them apart, then began to run her hands over the cut edges of Ruby's figure, from the top of her head, down to the floor. "Why am I not surprised that the Balboa Sheriff's Department's work is getting shoddier and shoddier. If they'd found these little gems, they probably would have hauled you in already as a person of interest in Ruby's death."
"And they actually got to turn the lights on," he answered. "But, ya know, this little reveal probably would have looked worse on you. Like maybe you needed to get rid of your competition."
Veronica turned back toward him, now frowning. "Oh. That's actually plausible."
"Uh-huh."
"Should we take them with us? Or at least yours?" She side-stepped to the Logan cut-out and began her process again, running her hands down the cut edges from his head to the widened base at the floor.
"If we take it, we're gonna light it on fire, right?" Logan responded, but Veronica's answering laugh was suddenly silenced.
"Oh, wow, I think I found something." She knelt on the floor, leaning down to peer closely at the area around cardboard Logan's calf level. She nodded and looked up with a grin. "Yup. Apparently, you were more than just eye candy to Ruby."
"Well, that's certainly a relief," Logan said, and she nodded, then focused on the cut-out again.
"The cardboard is corrugated, so there are little tunnels of space between the front layer and the back. This one—“ Her face twisted in concentration as she dug her finger between the layers. "—has a little something extra hiding in your leg." Her fingers pinched together, and, with a triumphant smile, she pulled out a key.
"That's probably why she hid us in the closet," Logan theorized.
"Yeah, that makes sense. I wondered why you weren't standing guard over her as she slept."
"I know, right?"
Veronica chuckled, then looked down at the key in her hand. "Now, what do you open, little key?" She glanced up at Logan. "It looks to me like some kind of private storage. A little safe, maybe? I think it would be hidden too, or else someone could just walk off with it."
"If it was here and wasn't hidden, I would think the cops would take it in," Logan suggested, and Veronica nodded.
"Yes, that should be true, with a competent department. With this group, they would still probably take it to see if there was anything in it they wanted." She turned the key in her hand. "There’s a number on it, so if we figure out where to look, we’ll be able to match it up. N3754G."
“Hang on, let me see that.”
Veronica held out her hand, and Logan shined the light on her palm with the small key. The quick look was all he needed.
"That's from the Neptune Grand. They have private storage boxes on the first floor...at least they did when we lived there. Even if you're not living there, they'll let you rent the box. That gets a little pricey though. I guess they figure that anyone who doesn't want to rent a safe deposit box at a bank, or get their own safe, probably has something pretty questionable to hide and is willing to pay to do that."
"Huh." Veronica closed her fist on the key and shoved it into her front jeans pocket. "So, if I show up with the key, will they just let me open the box?"
"You need to know the name the box is rented under, and you need to be that person, or on their list of approved alternates." Logan raised an eyebrow. "Now, I'm not the detective here, but my guess is—" He pointed the phone at the cut-out of Ruby. "—the box was rented by Ruby Jetson—" He moved the light over to his own image. "—and the guy she trusted with the key is an approved alternate."
Veronica nodded and stretched up to give him a quick kiss. "I think that's some pretty good detecting, Lieutenant."
He leaned down for a longer kiss. "Thanks. Now can we put these back where we found them and get out of here? I'd rather not be trying to sneak out of here after the sun's up. We can head straight for the Neptune Grand and see what Ruby's left for me. There always used to be 24/7 access to the boxes, at least as a resident. I guess it could have been different for non-residents, but I'm not sure why it would be."
Veronica stepped back and grabbed her own phone out of her back pocket. "Why don't you put them back while I make one more loop through the room...make sure we didn't miss anything. Then we can head over to the Grand." She grinned at him. "Do you think the restaurant still makes those three meat breakfast skillets like they used to?"
Logan nodded and grabbed his cut-out, heading back to the closet. "I wouldn't be surprised. They serve twenty-four hours; are we eating before we use the key, or after?"
"Oh, before, definitely. I don't want a big break in the case to keep me from my breakfast."
"Yeah. We must have our priorities."
***
The skillet had four meats now, so Veronica was feeling good as she and Logan approached the front desk of the Grand.
"She came to me with the novel...are you sure that you're her key alternate and not me?" she asked again.
Logan shrugged one shoulder. "This isn't the CIA, Veronica. We can probably just tell them that Ruby Jetson left us the key, and Logan Echolls and Veronica Mars are here to collect the contents of her box. As long as one of us is listed, I'm pretty sure this will work out fine."
"I hope you're right."
At 5:49 AM, there was no one at the front desk, but Logan gave the reception bell a quick 'ding', and Veronica leaned her crossed arms against the counter to wait. Logan squared up behind her, hands on her hips.
"This makes me think of the old days," he murmured in her ear. "You're here to bully something out of the clerk, and I'm here to watch admiringly."
"You're here to back me up," she responded. "It's what you do."
"It is," he agreed, kissing the top of her head. He reached to strike the bell again when a voice from behind them stopped him.
"Oh geez, I knew the two of you were going to show up. Why did it have to be on my shift?"
Veronica spun toward the voice, pushing Logan away as he stepped to cover her.
"Logan, stop, it's fine." She stepped around him to face off with the newcomer. "Ratner."
"Mars."
"Still working at the local hotel, I see."
"Still managing the finest hotel in Neptune, you mean."
"Potato..." She paused, then gave her long-ago nemesis a wry smile. "You've been expecting us? Why?"
He shook his head at her. "Uh-uh, you tell me."
She dug into her front pocket and held up the key. "I believe we're on the list."
"Whose list?" Ratner queried, and Veronica laughed.
"You look like a hotel manager, but you question like someone with a criminology degree. What are you still doing here, Ratner?"
He shrugged. "It's unusual for someone to work outside the scope of their degree? The Grand was more lucrative. In the end, it made more sense to stay here. Especially once that one—" He jerked his head at Logan. "—and his brain-dead buddy cleared out of here. I live in the '09 now, Mars. So, stop questioning my life choices and tell me what you want."
"You know what we want, Ratner. The private box of Ruby Jetson, AKA Della Pugh." She shook the key at him. "I believe this should get us beyond your velvet rope."
"Do you know the secret password?"
Veronica glanced over her shoulder to give Logan the evil eye—you never mentioned a password—then back to Ratner again when he laughed.
"Relax, Mars, I'm just giving you a hard time. You got all the pieces. No secret password." He walked past them, moving behind the counter. Veronica followed, watching as he dug around in a deep drawer, coming up with a set of keys. "All right, let's go."
Veronica turned to follow him as Ratner headed toward the bank of elevators. She caught Logan's hand as she moved past him, and they exchanged hopeful looks. This may be the break we've been looking for.
"So, Ratner. Why were you expecting us?" Veronica asked as he unlocked a door beside the first elevator and led them inside.
"I'm the manager, remember, Mars? I know every customer we have in our privacy boxes, and when they have an alternate I'm familiar with, I know that too. When I saw the news about Della's death, I assumed you'd be along directly."
"I'm a little surprised that the untimely demise of a customer doesn't make you lock the box down," Veronica said. "What if whoever killed her comes looking?"
"If whoever killed her has the key and was previously designated, they're gonna get the box. That's just the way the system is set up. I mean, there's probably a lot of these boxes here solely because the client was worried about getting murdered. You know the type. 'In the event of my untimely demise...' But really, it's no big deal to us. We just have to hope the client made a good choice and didn't pick the person who was out to get them." He stopped at another door and paused, tossing a skeptical look over his shoulder at them before unlocking that door. "I will say, I've never been too sure about Della's decision-making, and when I saw she'd chosen the two of you..." He huffed a short laugh. "This choice was no exception."
"You have to know we didn't kill her," Logan said indignantly, and Ratner raised an eyebrow, but overall, his body language didn't seem to show any real stress, so Veronica was pretty sure he was just tormenting Logan. And it's working. "How well did you even know her anyway?" Logan continued, and Ratner stopped with the door only partially ajar, his face now scornful.
"Oh, now you're some kind of white knight?" Ratner asked, shaking his head. Logan bristled and took a step forward, but Veronica reached for his wrist, and he fell back again. Ratner shook his head as he watched the exchange, then rolled his eyes. "If you must know, we frequented some of the same establishments," he said, then pushed the door fully open and waved them inside. "She told me she had something big happening and needed a place to stash some evidence. I offered her one of our boxes."
"Karaoke much, Jeff?" Veronica asked with a smirk as she moved into the room, fingers still tight around Logan's wrist. The room was empty, except for a high table in the center, and another door at the opposite end. She turned to face Ratner again and noticed that his cheeks had colored slightly.
"My private time is my own, Mars," he said, closing them in and moving across to the other door. "You two wait in here, I'll bring out the box and give you your privacy."
As soon as he disappeared, Logan turned to look at her. "Does that mean you think that Ruby and Ratner..." His eyebrows bobbed suggestively, and Veronica wrinkled her nose.
"I'd rather not think about that."
"I dunno. From personal experience, boyfriends are a natural suspect."
"True, but from everything Clemmons and my mom had to say, it seems like we've got plenty of other people willing to whack Ruby without us dragging Ratner into it."
The man in question returned to the anteroom and placed a rectangular metal box on the table. It was around the length of his arm, about half as wide, and around six inches deep. "All right, I'll leave the two of you to do your business. Take the contents, or leave it, it's up to you. If you're leaving it, just lock the box up when you're done, and I'll put it away again in case one of her other designees comes in later. If you take everything, you can leave the key also. There's no reason for you to keep it if you don't leave anything in the box."
"Other designees? Does that mean there are other keys out there?" Veronica wondered who else Ruby might have trusted with her secrets.
"No, only one key, but some clients designate multiple people. Then, whoever on the list ends up with the key can come in and be entitled to look."
"Who were Ruby's other designees?" Logan asked.
"That's confidential information," Ratner said. "Unless she left a list in the box. That happens sometimes."
"That could be interesting," Veronica mused. "Set it up so one of your friends finds the key, gets directed here, and then part of what you leave for them is instructions on how to set up the next person. A post-mortem scavenger hunt. That sounds fun."
"Oh, God, no," Logan groaned, and Ratner laughed.
"Only you would think scavenging after death would be fun, Mars. Give Admiral Moneybags here a break and just leave a will like a normal person."
"Boring," Veronica singsonged, then made a shooing motion. "Go on, Ratner, get out. We've got some post-mortem scavenging to do."
Ratner scoffed and moved to the door. "Happy hunting," he said and slipped out of the room.
"Okay, now, let's see what Ruby left us." Veronica pulled the key back out of her pocket and inserted it in the lock.
"Please tell me you're not going to do anything like that," Logan said. "Send us off on some crazed hunt after-death."
"Nah," she answered as she turned the key. "You guys won't appreciate it enough to make my effort worthwhile." She tried to raise the lid, but it stuck, and she pushed the box toward Logan to let him fight with it. "You know, really, you guys should all be doing that for me. I'm the only one who would enjoy it."
"I'll take that under advisement," Logan said, as he found the extra latch on the back of the box and released it, then pushed the box back toward Veronica. "Okay, you ready for the results of Ruby's scavenger hunt? Hopefully, this gives us what we need to figure this out."
"Cross your fingers," Veronica answered, and she opened the box
We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!
Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Thirty of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @heavenli24. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.31 from @nicemom93 - tag, you’re it!
“Well, that was fun,” said Logan unnecessarily, as they left the Deep Ridge security offices.
“What do you think Wiedman meant about Ruby’s manuscript?” Veronica wondered as she opened the car door and got in. “Because I was really hoping not to have to finish it.”
“No idea.” Logan slid into the driver’s seat. “But I have to admit, it has my curiosity piqued.”
“Mine too.” Veronica gave a reluctant sigh, before grimacing. “Damn my curiosity!”
“You don’t have to read it right now,” he reminded her. “It’s getting late. Why don’t we pick up that dinner and head over to Keith’s?”
Veronica shook her head. “As tempting as that sounds, I want to check out Ruby’s apartment first. That was the plan before we got side-tracked by Wiedman, remember?”
“Okay.” Logan nodded and started the car, pulling it out into the road.
As they headed across town towards Ruby’s apartment—the same one Veronica searched last year when she was investigating Carrie’s murder—Veronica tried to process everything they’d learned in the last couple of hours. How had a simple game of ‘guess who the murderer in my novel is?’ turned into this convoluted, real-life, tell-all exposé about the Kane family, involving a number of sources—including her own mother—and an actual murder? It was making her head hurt.
“Shit!” Logan muttered harshly a few minutes later, slowing the car to a stop not far from Ruby’s apartment.
“What?” Veronica’s head snapped up, the sudden stop pulling her from her thoughts.
“That.” He gestured ahead of them.
Veronica looked in the direction he was indicating, her heart sinking at the sight before them. The apartment was surrounded by cop cars and a not-insignificant-group of journalists and paparazzi.
“Shit,” she said in agreement. “Guess searching Ruby’s apartment tonight is out.”
“We gotta get going,” said Logan. “If anyone sees us here, the press will have a field day. Not to mention Lamb. And I’m not fighting another false murder charge.”
“Yeah, let’s go.” Veronica shuddered at the thought. She had no desire to go through that rigmarole again. “We’ll come back later.”
As discreetly as he could, Logan turned the car around. He took a left turn through Ruby’s neighbourhood and headed back across town quickly, trying not to draw attention to themselves.
“So, dinner at your dad’s?” he asked eventually.
“Sounds good.”
***
On the way to Keith’s, they stopped for take-out at the new Italian restaurant downtown that Veronica’s dad was eager to try, and then drove over to his bungalow.
“Veronica, Logan,” Keith greeted with a smile when they arrived. “Come on in.”
As Pony bounded excitedly over to Veronica and she crouched down to greet her adorable pup, Logan carried the take-out bags over to the dining table, telling Keith, “We brought sustenance.”
“Ooh,” Veronica’s father’s eyes lit up as he followed him through the house. “Is that from Carluccio’s?”
“Yep.” Logan shot him a grin. “You said you wanted to try it.”
“I did. Thanks.” Keith nodded, before shooting Logan a suspicious frown. “Or is this just a ploy to get in my good books again after last week?”
Logan pushed down the embarrassment he suddenly felt at the memory of Keith walking in on him and Veronica in a more than slightly inappropriate position on her desk at the office last Wednesday afternoon, and gave a casual smirk instead. “Why, is it working?”
Keith pursed his lips thoughtfully, though there was an amused twinkle in his eye. “Depends how good this food is.”
“Come on, Dad,” Veronica swept past them and into the kitchen to grab some plates and cutlery. “Stop giving him a hard time.”
When she’d set the table, they took their seats, Pony curling up at Logan’s feet, and dug into the delicious-smelling food. The atmosphere was relaxed—well, as relaxed as it could be when Ruby Jetson’s murder, and Van Clemmons being revealed as the publisher of Ruby’s book, was the big news of the day. Logan stayed out of the conversation as much as he could, leaving it to Veronica to decide how much to tell her father about Ruby, her manuscript, and Lianne’s return to Neptune. As expected, she told Keith as little as possible, and by the end of the dinner, Logan was sure Veronica hadn’t even mentioned to Keith yet that she’d had a copy of the manuscript for a week.
***
Later that night, Veronica lay awake in the large, comfortable bed in Dick’s spare room. She should be exhausted after all that amazing Italian food at her father’s place, followed by incredibly satisfying round of sex with Logan when they got back to Dick’s empty beach house—sex she was sure he’d initiated specifically to distract her from the case…though after that last orgasm, she couldn’t find it in her to be annoyed with him. Except, now that Logan was fast asleep, snoring softly beside her in the bed, she was wide awake, her mind whirring.
In fact, she was itching to get back to work, to figure out what the hell was going on, both in Ruby’s manuscript, and out here in the real world. She checked her phone—just after two a.m.—then glanced over at Logan to check he was still asleep, before carefully sliding out of the bed.
“Where you goin’?” came his groggy voice, and Veronica froze as Logan turned over, his hand reaching for her arm, stopping her.
“Just getting some water,” she told him quickly. “Go back to sleep.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, voice more clear now as he pulled himself up into a sitting position and turned on the light on his nightstand.
“I am,” she insisted, trying to look innocent while also not looking directly at him.
“Bull,” Logan countered.
She turned to see him shooting her a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
“You’re too distracted to sleep, because you’re dying to work on the case,” he told her knowingly. She gave him a questioning look, and he added, “I could feel you tossing and turning.”
Veronica sighed. “You caught me. I’m heading over to Ruby’s. There won’t be anyone there this time of night.”
“I’m coming with you,” he said decisively, pulling back the covers and moving to get out of the bed.
“No, you’re not,” Veronica shot him a firm look. “Stay here. I can handle this alone.”
“No,” Logan insisted. “We’re a team now, remember? If you’re going, I’m going.”
She frowned at him for a minute, but he was wearing his determined, ‘no one’s gonna talk me out of this’ expression, and she relented. “All right. Fine. We’ll go together.”
They dressed, grabbed a few supplies and headed out to the car. Within thirty minutes, they’d parked a block from Ruby’s, had managed to get into her apartment—thanks to Veronica’s experienced lock-picking skills—and were now stealthily making their way through Ruby’s bedroom.
“Fuck, what is that?” Logan exclaimed in a harsh whisper, aiming his phone flashlight towards Ruby’s bedroom wall, which was still covered in a large image of Carrie.
“Oh, that?” Veronica shrugged. “It’s her crazy murder wall. I told you about it last year.”
“Yeah, you did.” He nodded slowly. “I kinda thought she’d have gotten rid of it by now.”
“Yeah, well, who knows what went through her mind half the time.”
Beside her, Logan shuddered. “I dread to think.”
“Come on, let’s check the closet.”
Opening the door to Ruby’s walk-in closet, Veronica pushed aside the large collection of Bonnie Deville-inspired outfits and shimmied her way inside. Logan followed, and they began going through the large amount of junk cluttering up the small space. After several long minutes of digging and not getting anywhere, Veronica was just about on the verge of giving up when Logan gave a sharp inhale.
“What the hell is that?” he wondered incredulously.
“What?”
“That.” He pointed his phone in the direction of his wide-eyed gaze and Veronica followed it, freezing when she saw what he was referring to.
We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!
Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty-Nine of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @louzeyre. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.30 from @heavenli24 - tag, you’re it!
Logan felt Veronica stiffen and immediately realized his mistake.
Family was a funny thing.
Given his own incredibly messed up family dynamics you would think he would know that instinctively. After all, he might hate Aaron unequivocally, but for as much as he now realized his own mother’s failings --- and for as much anger as he had at her for abandoning him --- he still loved her. Still missed her.
Even Trina --- after everything. He’d still lend a hand if she needed it.
It was different though, when it came to someone else’s family. No. It was different when it came to Veronica.
Every pain, every insecurity, every doubt Lianne had given Veronica, he felt resentment for on Veronica’s behalf. Far more deeply than he would if it had been done to him.
But as much as Logan wanted to protect Veronica. As much as he wanted to keep her from being hurt again. Especially that small part of her that still had hope that Lianne could be the woman she had thought she was when she was growing up. It wasn’t his place to do so.
It was Veronica’s choice whether Lianne was part of her life or not.
And Veronica had decided that being a part of Hunter’s life was worth allowing Lianne back into hers.
If Veronica was willing to do that for her brother—even after everything Lianne had done to her—then he needed to respect that. He could play nice. For her. For that relationship.
Or he could at least swallow down his own feelings, stay quiet and find a way to support Veronica --- while still letting her fight her own battles.
Sure enough, as soon as the shock of seeing Lianne had worn off, Veronica went on the offensive.
“Mom, what are you doing here? Where’s Hunter?”
“Hunter’s safe.” Lianne said quickly. “But after I heard what had happened to Ruby, I thought it might be better if we got out of town for a while.”
“So, you brought him to Neptune?”
Lianne had done some stupid things --- abandoning Veronica and choosing Jake Kane over Keith chief among them --- but she surely, she wasn’t that stupid.
“God no. I dropped him off with your Aunt Sheryl.”
“But you came here.” Veronica pointed out.
Lianne wrapped her arms around herself and somehow managed to make herself even smaller. “Given everything that’s happened to me here, Neptune is the last place anyone would look for me.” She told them.
Right. The hiding on Tatooine method of witness protection. Even in the Star Wars movies that didn’t make sense.
“I don’t understand. How could you be Ruby’s source? You don’t know most of the secrets she mentions? You weren’t even in Neptune for most of them.”
“You’ve only made it through the first half of the book, haven’t you?” Lianne said, knowingly.
“Half seemed like enough.” Veronica said, slightly defensively.
It had certainly seemed like more than enough to Logan. Each individual chapter had a certain je ne sais quoi in its own right, but as a whole? Between the wildly-varying writing styles, increasingly convoluted plot, and weirdly specific focus on their love life, Logan wasn’t sure either he or Veronica could have gotten through the whole thing without wanting to murder Ruby themselves.
“Most of what I told Ruby was about the corruption and backroom deals Jake made while he was building Kane Software.” Lianne said. “Ruby incorporated it as a series of flashbacks to the “Mystery Parties” Della’s parents hosted.”
In other words, what Lianne had contributed was the pillow talk she had learned while she was Jake Kane’s regular lunch buddy.
“Della’s character died in the middle of the book; how would she have had flashbacks?” Veronica wondered aloud.
Clemmons cleared his throat. “The rather lackadaisical sense of the time and continuity was meant to act as something of a smokescreen,” he answered. “Hiding the true seriousness of the book in plain sight, as it were.”
Veronica momentarily gave both Clemmons and Lianne a disbelieving glare. Then she seemed to give up trying to understand their logic and dropped her shoulders in a shrug. “Fine. But why help her at all? Isn’t Jake the love of your life?” Veronica’s voice reached new, previously unknown levels of sarcasm towards the end of the question.
“Jake was my first love Veronica.” Lianne said carefully “And yes, for a long time I bought into the idea that that meant what we had had together was the best I would ever have. That it made it special. Magical. I don’t know if your father and I could ever have worked, but I do know now that, because I kept looking backwards, I didn’t really give us a chance.”
“Right, it wasn’t your fault you cheated on dad. The toxic misogynistic rom-com trope made you do it.”
“I’m not trying to justify my action Veronica,” Lianne snapped. “I’m just trying to answer your question. It’s taken me a long time but I have finally realized that you can fall out of love with someone, and that might be a good thing. That if you allow yourself to move on and take what you learned from that first love and first heartbreak you can use it to make your next love actually be better and more magical. To be the sort of love that does last. You two,” Lianne said, nodded slightly towards Logan. “Taught me that.”
Logan fought the urge to roll his eyes at Lianne’s obvious attempt to tug at Veronica’s heart strings. Veronica seemed even less impressed.
“Great speech mom, but helping to write a tell all to get revenge on your ex doesn’t exactly scream “moving on”.” she pointed out.
“It’s not revenge.” Lianne said, allowing herself to collapse onto Clemmons couch. “It's… an attempt to right some wrongs. Even if it is far too little and too late.” Lianne let out another long sigh.
Veronica’s frustration with her mother’s sudden turn towards loquacity and melodrama was reaching a tipping point and her whole posture tensed up. Logan reminded himself how much she wanted to spend the holidays with Hunter and started to rub comforting circles along her lower back. Maybe it would keep her calm enough to remember charging taser first at her mother wasn’t as good an idea as it seemed at the moment.
Finally, Lianne seemed to deem her dramatic pause long enough and began to talk again.
“When Lilly died, I knew—or at least thought I knew—that Jake had an alibi. But instead of telling your father I kept quiet and watched two men I claimed to love try to destroy each other. All to save my own butt.” Lianne shook her head. “If I had said something back then, then maybe your father wouldn’t have been so focused on Jake. Then he wouldn’t have lost his job. He might have even found Lilly’s real killer sooner. Our marriage would have been destroyed, but your life wouldn’t have been. Not like it was.”
“Again --- nice speech. But that was more than a decade ago.” Veronica bit back.
“I told you: I knew it was too little and too late,” Lianne said, becoming agitated.
“Way too late.” Veronica told her. After a few beats, though, Veronica relaxed slightly and let out a final sigh. “Okay.” she shrugged. “You want to atone for past sins by spreading thirty-year-old gossip about your ex. Wonderful. Good for you. Now, you mentioned something about Ruby’s having other sources? Do you,” Veronica said, looking at Lianne then turning toward Mr. Clemmons, “Or you, know who any of the others were.”
Lianne shook her head.
Clemmons sighed. “Ruby joked several times that she was receiving help from beyond the grave, but as far as actual sources go, all I knew of was myself, Ms. Reynolds, someone Ruby communicated with through emails who called himself “Mr. Owens,” and a woman named Astrid Fife.”
“Astrid?” Veronica said “As in Celeste’s former personal assistant?”
“I believe,” Clemmons said. “Although, Ruby did once make some oblique comments implying, Astrid may have also had a more intimate connection with the family.”
“Of course, she did.” Veronica said, rolling her eyes.
****
Veronica slid into the passenger seat of Logan’s BMW and let herself sink into the leather for a moment. She took a breath. Tried to just relax. Just for a second. Finally, once she thought she wasn’t going to squeeze the life out of the car armrest she turned to Logan. “Well, that was enlightening.”
“Just, not in a way that was in any way helpful,” he said.
“We did at least confirm the book is aimed at the Kanes?” Veronica pointed out.
“And that Ruby was working with sources, not from some else’s stolen manuscript,” Logan added.
“And that Duncan apparently is in Australia,” she told him. Logan gave her a questioning look. “Astrid helped get little Lilly out of the country,” Veronica explained.
“Good to know. I’ll make sure to cross Bells Beach off of future vacation destinations.”
“Oddly enough I actually believe my mother. She seems to genuinely want the Kanes to be brought down --- or at least for people to know the truth about Jake. Which means that unless Ruby was killed by a ghost, or this Mr. Owens, it doesn’t really seem like it was one of Ruby sources that murdered her.”
“Which just leaves the dozen or so extremely wealthy and powerful people who are called out in the book in some way,” Logan said with false cheer.
Veronica let out a groan. Suddenly she felt very stupid.
“What?” Logan asked.
“I know who we need to talk to,” she told him.
“Who?” Logan asked.
“The man who killed Aaron.”
On that perfect exit line, Logan reached over to start the car. A sudden thought occurred to Veronica, however, and she placed her hand on his, stopping him. “You don’t think the “next love” my mom was talking about is Mr. Clemmons, do you?”
The two of them shared a look of collective horror as they were both forced to imagine two people, they had spent their adolescence trying to pretend didn’t have a sex life having a sex life with each other.
“We will never speak of this again,” Veronica finally said.
“Agreed.”
****
At some point during the near decade Veronica had been away from Neptune, Clarence Wiedman had left Kane Software and founded his own private security firm. Veronica wasn’t sure if it was a sign of good training or bad that the moment she told the poor kid working at Deep Ridge’s front desk who she and Logan were, a look of fear filled their eyes and they immediately called for back-up in the form of Wiedman’s own personal assistant.
Less than five minutes later she and Logan were shown into a large, sunlight filled office, at the center of which sat Wiedman himself, behind an imposing wooden desk.
“Well, it looks like you finally got that corner office,” Veronica quipped. “Guess it’s good to be the boss.”
“Miss Mars. Lieutenant Echolls. To what do I owe this visit.” Veronica shot him a sarcastic smile.
“Oh, come on Clarence, you know why we’re here.” Veronica told him. “Ruby Jetson? Or maybe you knew her as Della Pugh? Wrote a book about all of the Kane’s dirty little secrets? She’s dead now.” Veronica leaned forward, onto that very imposing desk. “But since you’re the person the Kanes turn to clean up those kinds of messes, I’m guessing you already knew that.”
Veronica wasn’t under any illusions that she was going to be getting a confession from Wiedman. That wasn’t the purpose of the visit. But if she rattled his cage enough, she hoped she might be able to shake out some response. One that might help her and Logan decide on their next step.
“Miss Mars, as you yourself have pointed out, I no longer work for the Kane Family.”
“You no longer work for the Kane family exclusively,” she countered. “But I’m betting if they walked in here with a large enough check you would be more than willing to work for them again.”
“Even if that were the case, I simply provide personal security. Not assassinations.”
“I think Carlos Mercado and Aaron Echolls would disagree.”
For less than a second Wiedman ticked a glance towards Logan. The movement was almost imperceptible, but it still felt like a victory. Logan saw it too and knew to take advantage of it by throwing Wiedman further off balance.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Logan told him. “If you did what she said you did, I owe you a hand shake. And a fruit basket. One of the fancy ones.” Just for a moment, Wiedman’s mouth gave a barely perceptible twitch.
“Those were ruled suicides I believe,” Wiedman said. He folded his hands together over his desk, then turned, purposefully this time, towards Logan and said completely deadpan, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Logan gave an exaggerated nod.
“Clarence—”
“Miss Mars,” Wiedman interrupted. “As I have stated, I had nothing to do with those deaths. I might, however, point out that both of those men killed young women under the Kane’s protection. Under my protection. Miss Pugh’s situation on the other hand, would be far more similar to that of Miss DeLongpre. It would follow that, if, hypothetically, the Kane’s had wanted to discourage Miss Pugh from publishing, they would have handled it in a similar way.”
Veronica shook her head in disbelief. “Ruby wanted more than anything to be a celebrity. She would never have given up her one chance at that by taking a pay out and slinking off into hiding the way you tried to get Amelia DeLongpre to do.”
“Or perhaps you didn’t understand Miss Pugh as well as you thought. Perhaps what Miss Pugh wanted more than anything, wasn’t to be famous, but to simply be accepted among the people who she idolized. And perhaps, if someone was to point out that writing a book exposing the secrets of the very people she wanted to impress and be welcomed by would be counterproductive to that goal she might be amenable to another option. Perhaps, if she were then given the opportunity to reinvent herself as the sort of young woman that would be welcomed into those circles, with the sort of money that she would need to do so she would be quite willing indeed, she would in fact welcome it.”
“Perhaps.” Veronica echoed crisply.
Wiedman gave Veronica a plastic smile, then turned his attention to his desk, pretending to be concerned with some random bit of paperwork lying on it. “Now, I believe you know the way out Miss Mars?” he said, still keeping his eyes down.
Veronica let out something that wasn’t quite a snort and turned towards the door. As they were almost at the door Weidman called out again, stopping them.
“Oh, and Lieutenant? Miss Mars?” Wiedman called out, stopping them, “Perhaps you should finish reading Miss Pugh’s manuscript. I think you might find it quite interesting.”
We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!
Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty-Eight of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @his-beautiful-girl. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.29 from @louzeyre - tag, you’re it!
Logan’s brows furrowed, lips turning downward, “Just how the hell did Van of all people become a publisher? Just last year he was still principal of Neptune High.”
It was Veronica’s turn to grab her phone and do some googling. “It says here that he formed the company ‘Trident Publishing’ three months ago. My guess is that Ruby’s book would have been his first, but with as explosive as it would have been…”
“Van would have ended up a very rich man.” Logan finished for her. “I can’t speak to his personal life, but he wasn’t above taking bribes for school, Sugarpuss.” His mind drifted back to a conversation after he and Weevil had dismantled Mr. Daniel’s car and then re-assembled it around the flagpole. How a pair of Aaron’s boots had made sure that Weevil was unexpelled.
She nodded. “I knew he did it for money for Neptune High but I never got the impression that he was trying to gain anything personal from it. Well, other than the time he set it up so I would discover that Moorehead was Trina’s biological father. But that was to oust Moorehead so he could become principal. Not really any financial gain there.”
Logan rose from the couch, walked to Veronica and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the crown of her head. “Something is really bothering me, Vee. How does she know about Shelly’s party? Book you calls Duncan out for rape.” His voice turned tender, dropping low. “That’s not a detail that you could get from a source, baby.”
“I don’t know.” Veronica’s voice came out fragile, and he tightened his arms around her protectively. Rested his cheek on top of her head and rocked them slightly. “I only told you and- I- I admitted it one time during the therapy we had to take in school at Stanford. The only other person who knows is Duncan himself, and he would never admit to it being what it is.”
She turned in his arms and he cupped the back of her head with one hand while running the other up and down along her spine, letting her hide against him. Felt her drawing deep breaths in and out and centering herself again while he continued to offer her love and comfort. Logan smiled against her hair when she stood straighter and drew in a deep breath. It’s true that they differed from when they were in high school and in college. They had gotten their shit together and learned communication was the key. But some things remained the same, and he was glad for that. His girl was still strong and determined. He knew if anyone could solve this, it would be Veronica. He was there for the assist.
Logan pressed another kiss on the crown of her head before she pulled back slightly, face tilted upward, allowing him to brush his lips across hers tenderly before she murmured. “After this is over, we should go on vacation. Someplace warm and sunny and with no murder, please.”
He nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”
They stayed quiet, holding each other for a few long moments before the reality of the situation broke through their peace.
“So I think the question we need to ask ourselves is whether the focus of this book is on exposing Neptune, or whether it’s a book on exposing the Kanes.” Logan finally allowed himself to break the silence. “I know there is a lot… okay, most of the focus is on us, but what if we’re just the players that are being moved around to tell the story? Especially given that we had such close ties to the Kanes or to the events meant to expose the Kanes.”
Veronica’s eyes narrowed, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip. “You could be right. Maybe we’re the red herrings. It’s about exposing the Kanes without just writing a direct book about them. That still doesn’t explain so much of the information that this source and/or Ruby has though.”
“Also, this ‘Jen’ person is still bothering me. I know we can’t find any clue she exists, and she wasn’t a roommate of Mac’s but I feel like she represents someone. This might be the one person Ruby used a pseudonym for.” Veronica stepped away from him and paced in front of the enormous windows in Dick’s living room, looking out into the ocean. “Logan, I want to get into Ruby’s apartment to see if I can find anything.”
He nodded; this request not surprising in the least. “Van first? Then Ruby’s? Then how about we pick up dinner and eat at your dad’s tonight? I’m missing my other favorite girl and you could use some Pony snuggles of your own.”
Logan’s heart jumped as her face lit up at the mention of their dog, and he knew it was the right call. Now they just had to get around town, unnoticed by the paparazzi.
***
An hour later, Logan and Veronica stood on the front porch of a nice, but modest residence. He rapped on the door sharply three times and they waited. He always found it interesting the way they stood when working on a case together. At any other time, they would hold hands or his arm would be around her shoulder and hers around his waist; however, in situations like this they stood together with their sides barely touching, both drawn to their full height. Both aware of the other and yet wanting to radiate that they were each dangerous on their own to whoever they were about to crush.
Logan was about to rap on the door again when sounds within indicated that the first knocks were being acknowledged. Locks clicked and then the door itself swung open, revealing a haggard-looking Van Clemmons. “Veronica Mars and Logan Echolls. I wondered when you would show up. Come in, please.”
“Well, you said that life had gotten boring without me.” The words dropped wryly from her mouth and the corner of Logan’s mouth twitched in response.
“Life without you is always boring, Bobcat.” He cast an adoring look at her before turning his attention back at the man waiting in the doorway.
Mr. Clemmons stepped back and gestured with his hand for the couple to enter. Placing his hand on the small of her back lightly, Logan let Veronica go first and then followed. Not that he felt Clemmons was a threat, he just felt better having her back protected.
The living room was to the right of the entryway, and Clemmons indicated they should go there. “Please, take a seat and make yourselves comfortable. Can I get either of you something to drink?”
Both shook their heads, taking a seat on the couch, before Logan smirked. “Are you getting the sense of what it felt like to be on the other side of that desk of yours, Van?”
“Mr. Echolls, I seem to remember you being on the other side of that desk more than a few times.” Van’s voice came out dry but heavy, tired beyond his years.
Veronica snorted, very unladylike, which made Logan grin. “Yeah, and how often were there actual consequences for any of those incidents? Just how much money did you make for the school? More importantly, how much of that money made it to your pocket rather than the schools?”
Clemmons held up his hands placatingly and sighed. “I know what you must think but the only time I ever did anything for my benefit was when I used you to expose Principal Moorehead. I admit to taking money in return for punishments not happening, but all of that money went to Neptune High in one way or another. I made sure the students had the best that I could give them in my years as principal.”
“Why did you retire? Why suddenly go into publishing? Not your typical career move and you don’t have the background for it. It also begs the question of the money issue. Where is the money coming from to start the business?” Veronica fired off the questions one after the other, and Logan tried to tell himself that being turned on right now was not the appropriate response.
Van dropped his head into his hands, scrubbing it hard, and muttered. “I have a silent partner who put up the money after they heard the pitch for the book.”
Logan leaned forward. “What was the pitch for the book exactly? Because it isn’t about some murder mystery, even if that is what it’s trying to pass itself off as. So why don’t you just tell us the truth. Someone is already dead. I wasn’t her fan, but I never would have wished Ruby dead, and I don’t think you did either. But you both got yourself mixed up into something deep. You know, the only person who has a chance at figuring this out is Veronica, so let her, Clemmons.”
The silence that took over the room felt heavy and oppressive. Minutes ticked on and on and he wondered if they would get the information they were after or not. After an interminable amount of time, the older man nodded in agreement, letting out a loud sigh. “Yes, maybe you are the only ones I can trust with this.”
Logan started when Veronica’s hand slipped into his, but was more than happy to thread his fingers through hers. It felt like they might finally get somewhere with this. Finally, get some answers that could make things make sense. Nothing could have prepared him for what came next.
“Della- I’m sorry, Ruby came to me with the idea she had for a book. Claimed she had been doing research for the past year and wanted to write a book about a powerful family that had their claws in everything. A family that rolled around in the dirt and was covered in mud, though nobody could see it. She also claimed that members of this family had hurt people badly, and she wanted to right some wrongs and give those that they had hurt justice. She was talking about the Kanes and I should have known better--”
Clemmons scrubbed over his face again, and when he looked up, his gaze focused on Veronica. “But I knew she was right. I knew a lot more than I could ever tell. I listened to the stories during those years at Neptune High, and I even did some of my research. I may not know all the stories exactly, but I know that the Kanes are responsible for so many things behind the scenes in this town. When she told me of the way she wanted to write the book without coming right out and accusing them I thought it would be okay. I went to Casey Gant and floated a semblance of the idea around to see if I might get him interested, but he turned it down. Then I got a surprising phone call from someone willing to not only put up the money to publish the book, but wanted me to be the face of the publisher. I let greed take over my thinking.”
Van’s head dropped into his hands again, and Logan couldn’t decide whether or not to feel sorry for him. Veronica vibrated next to him, like she would explode if they didn’t find out who this mysterious person is and within the next minute.
“Who?” The question was more a demand and came out sharp on her tongue. “Who is it?”
“Troy Vandegraff,” Clemmons muttered into his hands.
“Well, fuck me sideways. I did not expect that.” Logan breathed out, wide-eyed while turning to stare at Veronica, who looked just as taken aback.
“Who was Ruby’s source, Clemmons? You must know. She couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.” The words came sharp and to others may sound bitter, but Logan knew the truth. That hardness Veronica projected was covering the hurt that she felt over Ruby’s death. Solving this case was the only way she knew how to help find some closure in this. He squeezed her hand gently in support.
“I was, or at least I was one of them.” A familiar voice jerked their heads up and their attention to the hallway where a pale, thin figure stepped out of the shadows.
Logan felt his gut churning, blood getting hot. He pulled Veronica closer to him protectively. “Lianne Mars.” He spit out the name like a curse.
We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!
Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty-Seven of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @nevertothethird. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.28 from @his-beautiful-girl - tag, you’re it!
Such a simple question, Veronica mused, and one she couldn’t immediately answer. If she took the book to the Sheriff’s station, she’d be bringing along with her a hunch they would likely ignore. There was also a chance, even if someone in the department believed her, that Ruby’s manuscript would go missing. While Neptune’s sheriff’s department wasn’t explicitly mentioned throughout the book, there were ample alluded-to miscarriages of justice that could be traced back to them.
And, on a purely selfish level, Veronica didn’t exactly relish the idea of sitting across from Sheriff Dan Lamb in order to explain her theory. She’d risk having his mockery directed at her in relation to the number of times her sexual assault was mentioned throughout Ruby’s book. Been there, done that with the other Lamb brother. No thank you.
She needed to regroup. “I think we head home, and –”
“Yeah, I’m going to have to veto that one.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
“I was leading the witness.”
Veronica frowned. “Why can’t we go home?”
“Because about a year ago, you and I were photographed with Ruby. Together. At the 09er.”
She exhaled a heavy sigh. “Shit.”
“And if I know Neptune –” Logan continued.
“Then all of Neptune is currently waiting for us at our apartment.”
“Well,” Logan said, his face scrunched in concentration, “maybe half of Neptune.” He gestured to the front door of Mars Investigations. “The other half is outside.”
“You’re not being serious?”
He shook his head. “Been a while since I’ve been able to use my ‘no comment’ face walking through a crowd. I did not miss it.”
Veronica pitched forward, and Logan wrapped his arms back around her waist. “Why do we live here?”
“Pony likes the beach.”
God. Ruby. Maybe book-Dick Casablancas had a point. Maybe getting close to her was dangerous. “Someone killed Ruby. Why would they do that?”
“I don’t know,” he said, rubbing the small of her back in comfort.
“Suggestions on places we could go to get some work done?”
“Dick is surfing Trestles this week.”
She nodded. “You drive. I’ll call my dad on the way.”
***
Safely ensconced at Dick’s beach house, Veronica and Logan had lined the perimeter of the living room with sticky flip chart pages. Written at the top of each page was the name of a “character” from Ruby’s book, and under the name they’d listed every fact mentioned in the book about that character. From the most well-known details (Veronica transferred to Stanford for sophomore year) to the couldn’t possibly be true (Ruby’s family owning a murder-mystery house on an island somewhere between Montana and southern California).
At the bottom of Duncan’s page, she scrawled ‘believed he killed Lilly’ and put the cap on her marker. They were only halfway through Ruby’s book, and the ever increasing amount of information was overwhelming. Everything could be a clue, or nothing could be a clue. “This is insane.”
Logan took a bite of panang curry, shaking his head. “This version of Duncan is really not my biggest fan.”
She placed the page back on the stack. “If it’s any comfort, he doesn’t really seem to be a fan of mine, either.” Veronica grabbed a red marker. “Okay, so let’s start making some connections. Starting with you.”
“Must we?”
She ignored him and looked at the list of facts related to book-Logan’s history, focusing on those that couldn’t be gleaned from casual conversation.
● San José State University
● Dylan Goran
● Hidden cameras in the Echolls pool house
● Madison
● “Recent sibling struggles with Trina”
“Dylan Goran is the one that confuses me,” Logan said. “The guy and Trina dated for a second. How could Ruby know about that?”
“When did you apply to San José State?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t.”
“And sophomore year of college? Did you and Trina have ‘sibling struggles’?”
“Nothing more than usual.”
“So how is it that Ruby could get stuff like this –” she circled Madison’s name, and then on her page circled that she’d cheated on Leo with Logan, “so right, but other stuff –” She underlined the name “Sue,” the name of book-Veronica’s therapist, “so wrong?”
“Maybe your first instinct was right: Ruby had a collaborator.”
“Yeah, but how is it so scattershot?” Veronica asked. “I mean, I didn’t even know where Duncan went to when he fled.” She pointed to the page with Duncan’s name on it. “Is it really possible he went to Australia? Is he still there?”
Logan shrugged. “No idea. But the idea that Kane money made immigration problems go away seems plausible.”
“Well, I hope that Kane money fixed the extradition problem, too.” Veronica dropped the marker on the coffee table and flopped on the couch. “I don’t think Ruby had any idea what she was doing here. She was playing with powerful people’s secrets.”
“You know what they say about truth and fiction,” Logan said.
“Yeah. It can get you fucking killed.”
She leaned forward for a coconut prawn. Something wasn’t clicking. Some of Ruby’s information was so specific, so protected, even Veronica would have had a hard time accessing it.
Say the source was in law enforcement: that would make sense of how they had access to a case file, or personnel file, mentioning an ATF agent’s connection to Norris Clayton. But what would a cop or FBI agent care about the more salacious parts of Ruby’s book? Why would they care about Carrie’s first performance on SNL? Why would a cop make up a story about Piz getting hit by a bus? Or dedicate thousands of words to a person named Jen who, as far as she and Mac knew, didn’t exist.
“Well,” she said, standing back up, this time with a green marker in hand. “We can at least eliminate some of the suspects.” On the character pages for Gia, Susan, Ruby, and Carrie, she placed a green x at the top of each page.
“Cole, too,” Logan said. “Died in a drunk driving accident a couple years after high school.”
“Anyone else?”
“No. Thank God.”
She was back to fixating on the list of facts about Logan. The juxtaposition between the true fact that Logan had shitty, drunk sex with Madison, something so hyper-specific and personal, and the blatant falsehood about which college he attended was confounding.
“You know what this all reminds me of?” Logan asked.
She kept her eyes on the flip chart pages. “What?”
“TMZ. And other bullshit websites like that.”
Now he had her attention. “How so?”
“Well, obviously, they completely whiff on stories. Like that thing with Li’l Wayne a few years ago. But every now and again, they get it right. And no one understands how.”
“A gossip reporter wouldn’t care so much about the emotional stuff, though.” She gestured to the pages. “There are full chapters in there where you and I talk through every problem in our relationship. But then tucked in, out of nowhere, are these little asides. It’s almost like –” she trailed off.
She felt that pull in her gut – the one that told her she was close to something. There was something about the way Ruby’s story was framed, the layers of mundanity alternated with seedy gossip and fabrications.
On Logan’s page, she underlined Dylan Goran’s name. “Who knew about him?”
“Trina. Me. You. Aaron.” He paused. “Dylan, obviously.”
She nodded. “He could have told someone.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised if it was mentioned somewhere in one of Aaron’s unauthorized biographies.”
“Same thing with Madison,” she said, pointing to the name. “Madison could have talked. Or, maybe a front desk clerk in Aspen. Or one of the other 09ers who was there.”
“Casey was there. Luke, too.”
“Do me a favor?” she asked. “Google your name and San José State. I want to see what comes up.”
Logan saluted her and reached for his phone.
A source. Ruby had a source, but not one in law enforcement. A source. A source with the kind of access a gossip columnist might have. But a source who wanted more than that: they wanted the story behind the story. Someone like –
“Shit,” Logan said.
She turned around; the pull in her gut grew stronger. “What?”
“I can’t remember why, but back in college Dick and I fucked off to San José for a few days. He met a girl at a party, and we dropped her off at work the next day.” Logan handed her his phone.
The headline from some creepy celebrity stalking site he’d pulled up read: Logan Echolls, future Spartan? The accompanying photo was of him and Dick walking out of the admissions office of San José State.
“We’re not dealing with a gossip columnist, Logan.”
If everything Ruby subtly referenced got out – the degree to which the Kanes manipulated systems for Duncan, corruption within all levels of the local government, connections to the Russian Mob – it would take down most of Neptune.
“I think someone is writing a Neptune tell-all.”
“And the author is Ruby’s source.”
“Or Ruby found some other way to access the author’s manuscript.”
“Which would make whoever the author is a suspect,” Logan said.
