Veronica Mars (20 page)

The nurse was right—it wasn’t just the chill air that made her shiver. All the adrenaline of the last few hours had curdled in her blood, leaving her weak limbed and nauseated. Her arm ached where Eduardo had grabbed her, and a half dozen dull, throbbing pains were blooming across her body from the struggle. And then there was the thin line across her throat, still burning from the touch of that blade. Superficial as the wound was, she felt it most of all.

But she didn’t want to take any pills that would make her slow or stupid—not yet. Not while she might still have to think on her feet.

The curtain fluttered open. A second nurse put her head through. “Miss Mars? Your friend’s arrived. He’s in the waiting room whenever you’re ready to go.”

She jumped off the bed. “Okay. Thank you.”

Wallace stood in the lime-green waiting room wearing a pair of baggy sweats and a T-shirt. Her call had obviously woken him up; he was sleep rumpled, but his warm brown eyes were alert. He was pretending to read a poster about proper hand washing when she came in the room, but he looked up with a gentle, concerned expression, taking in her scrubs, her tangled hair, and the dark red scratch on her neck.

She paused in the doorway. Then, all at once, her lip started to shudder, and she burst into tears.

It was a sudden storm, coming on without warning and gone almost as soon as it’d started. Wallace pulled her against his side in a rough hug and didn’t speak. They stood there for a few minutes, him patting her shaking shoulder. Finally, she wiped her eyes frantically, embarrassed, unable to speak. Then she laughed shakily.

“Let’s get out of here, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” He squeezed her shoulder and then let go.

The streets were still busy, even at 3:00 a.m. Most of the bars kept extended hours during spring break, and they passed a few, fluttering with light. An ambulance streaked in the opposite direction, back toward the hospital. She leaned her head back against the seat and looked over at Wallace.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” she said. “Dad’s not cleared to drive yet.”

“It’s no problem,” Wallace said. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

She watched his knuckles tighten around the steering wheel as she told him about the night—how she’d gone back to the party to find Willie Murphy, how she’d gotten caught sneaking around the upstairs rooms. How the cousins had closed in on her—only to be interrupted by Murphy himself, leading an impromptu parade through the library.

“You know, you didn’t have to go back in there alone.” She could hear a hint of restrained anger in his voice. “I would’ve gone with you.”

She gave a sad smile. “No, you would have tried to talk me out of it. Probably with good reason.” Her hand flew up to her throat. “But I had to find Murphy, Wallace. I had to take the chance.”

“You always do, don’t you?” He glanced at her, then looked quickly back to the road. “Look, I’m not mad, Veronica. I’m just worried that someday the unstoppable force is gonna meet the immovable object.”

“Wait, which one am I?” she joked. “No, don’t answer that.”

He snorted. “So you found this Murphy guy. Do you think he did it? Took the girls?”

She stared out at the world rolling away outside her window. “I don’t know anymore. I went in thinking Willie Murphy was the one behind the disappearances. But you should have seen the guy’s face when Eduardo grabbed me—he was terrified. And he waltzed back in with Dick and those girls and probably saved my life.”

“Yeah, but he had that necklace, right?” Wallace glanced at her, his fingers drumming along the steering wheel. “He had to be involved somehow.”

He was right. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something didn’t fit. Willie Murphy didn’t look like a guy who could
handle
violence, much less one who
liked
it. And he’d come back—scared as he was, he’d come back, because it was the only way he knew to keep Eduardo from killing her.

“Maybe Murphy’s just their cleanup crew,” she said, thinking out loud. “Maybe Eduardo or Rico—or both of them—killed Hayley and Aurora, either because the girls found out something they shouldn’t have or because the guys just like killing. Or maybe Eduardo assumes anyone who’s caught sneaking around the house is an assassin. He’s pretty jumpy. Then they call in Murphy to clean up, dispose of the bodies. And Murphy saw the necklace and just
couldn’t help himself.” She rubbed her forehead. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Lamb’s going to hang him out to dry. Willie Murphy is the definition of low-hanging fruit. He’s got a record, and he looks sketchy as hell.”

Wallace was quiet for a moment. Then he spoke. “So you think the girls are dead?”

She didn’t answer. The raw cut along her throat throbbed gently. There wasn’t any way of knowing for sure what had happened to those girls—but after what she’d just been through, the little flicker of hope that she’d been holding on to throughout her investigation was guttering.

They turned left into Veronica’s neighborhood. Here the houses were dark and silent, their occupants still asleep. Somewhere a dog barked, deep voiced and lonely.

They pulled up in front of the bungalow. She suddenly realized she’d have to tell Keith what had happened in a few short hours.
That
would be a nightmare.
Thank goodness for the U.S. Navy. I can at least put off telling Logan. The last thing I need is for my boyfriend to pick a fight with an international crime syndicate
.

“You want me to come in with you?” Wallace turned his head to look at her, his brow furrowed. She shook her head.

“No. I don’t want to wake up Dad.” She reached across to pat his arm with a forced joviality. “I’m okay. I’ll call you tomorrow. At a reasonable hour this time.”

“Veronica …” He hesitated, then shook his head. “You sure you’re okay?”

She gave a weak smile. “I’m always okay.” Then, seeing he wasn’t buying it, she hugged him around the neck.

“Thanks again, Wallace. For everything.”

She jumped out of the car and headed up the stairs to
her house. He waited until she’d gotten in the door before driving back out to the street.

And for about the millionth time in her life she felt an overwhelming gratitude for her best friend. Because she knew he wouldn’t mention this afterward; she knew he wouldn’t take it as a sign that she was losing her nerve or was in too deep. There weren’t many people in this world who would let you be vulnerable and still believe you were strong.

The sun was thin and pale on the courthouse steps the next morning as the crowd of reporters gathered before it, cameras at the ready. The dramatic capture of Willie Murphy by the Balboa County Sheriff’s Department had made the early morning news, and Lamb had called a 9:00 a.m. press conference to make it all official. A low buzz rippled over the crowd as well-coiffed newscasters murmured to their viewers that in just minutes, they’d have exclusive live coverage involving the missing Neptune spring breakers.

Veronica was facing the podium, Keith on one side of her and Mac on the other. She would have been happy to watch the coverage from home, but Petra Landros had called her a little over an hour earlier asking her to be there. She hadn’t been able to sleep; her nerves had been too ragged. But she’d showered and pinned her hair in a sleek, professional bun. Somewhat passive-aggressively, she wore a scoop-neck top under her blazer, making the long red line across her neck as obvious as she could.
Go on and let someone ask me about it
, she thought.
I’ll let them know who did this in no uncertain terms
.

She looked out of the corner of her eye at Keith. He stood with both hands propped on the head of his cane, his
expression stony. That morning he’d been silent, his face drawn as he listened to her describe the events of the night before. Then he’d hugged her close, seemingly unable to speak. She’d seen his eyes dart to the revolver in the wooden box, but Keith refrained from lecturing her. By the time she’d come out of her room, groomed and ready to go to the courthouse, he’d been in a suit and tie, waiting by the door. And he must have called Mac, because she met them there, bleary-eyed but anxious, with three coffees in to-go cups.

Veronica was grateful. Standing in front of all these people alone, waiting to hear Lamb act as though the case were solved while ignoring the most important piece—the violent cartel cousins—might have put her over the edge.

She glanced around the crowd. The Dewalts stood a few yards away, Mike’s arms wrapped around Ella’s shoulders from behind. Crane looked strained, edgy, his eyes wide and panicked. Tears rolled down Margie’s cheeks. Veronica glanced around to look for her mother and found her, near the back of the crowd, with Hunter gathered in her arms, her face buried in his neck. Next to her, Tanner stood and stared blankly around like a man who didn’t know where he was. She wondered if Petra had asked them to come too, or if they were as desperate for information as the reporters.

“Ms. Mars?”

She turned around, startled, to see Petra Landros right in front of her. Her thick dark hair was pinned back in a somber twist, and her Armani suit was an understated charcoal gray tailored to hug her curves.

“You must be proud,” Petra said, shaking Veronica’s hand. “You caught the bad guy.” She turned to face Keith. “And you must be the notorious Mr. Mars. I’m so pleased to meet you.”

Keith’s eyebrows shot up. “Notorious?”

“Your tenure as sheriff wasn’t the most probusiness we’ve ever had, you know. But your name came up again and again as the Chamber talked about whom we should hire to find Hayley. Everyone says you’re the best.” The hint of a smile tugged her lips upward. “In any case, your daughter’s certainly upheld your firm’s reputation.” She turned back to Veronica. “Now, shall I wire you payment, or would you like to come to my office for a check right now?”

Veronica frowned. “Usually I don’t get paid until the case is closed, Ms. Landros. We still haven’t found those girls.”

Petra’s smile faded quickly. She adopted a concerned, sincere expression.

“Of course,” she said. “If we can recover the girls, we’d love to do that for the families.”

Veronica’s jaw tightened involuntarily. It wasn’t hard to read the writing on the wall. As far as the Chamber of Commerce was concerned, the case was resolved. Willie Murphy was a perfect suspect, whether he’d done anything to the missing girls or not.

The semblance of law and order is just as good as the real thing, right? As long as it keeps the tourist dollars flowing, who cares if we’ve got the right guy?

The crowd suddenly went still as Lamb made his way to the podium. Cameras shuffled around, microphones bristling forward. Veronica straightened up a little. Lamb’s khaki uniform was perfectly pressed, each button gleaming in the sun. He gave a dramatic pause as he stared arrogantly around the gathered crowd, then looked down at his notes.

“Early this morning, at just after twelve a.m., we arrested a suspect in the disappearances of Hayley Dewalt and
Aurora Scott. William Murphy, age twenty-four, was seen with both girls prior to their disappearances. I can’t discuss the evidence in an ongoing case, but …”

The reporters broke into a clamor. Next to her, her father stood with his knuckles white on the handle of his cane. Mac gave a contemptuous little grimace, shifting her weight. At the podium Lamb lifted his hands with a benevolent, patronizing smile. “One at a time, please. One at a time.”

“What are you charging him with?” shouted a bespectacled man with wisps of hair across his scalp. “Do you know what happened to Hayley and Aurora?”

“Has Murphy confessed?” asked a dark-haired woman in a violet-flowered suit. “Or do you have some physical evidence linking him to the crime?”

“Where are the girls?” Veronica couldn’t tell where the voice came from, but the question was echoed a few more times around the courtyard.

“Where are Hayley and Aurora?”

“Are you going to be able to bring them home?”

Lamb cleared his throat. “At this time, we are moving ahead with a murder investigation.”

A spike of sound went up from the crowd. A few gasps, a ragged sob. Veronica exchanged a glance with Keith. Had Murphy copped to something, or was Lamb going for maximum effect?

“Again, I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics of the case at this time, because we are still talking with the DA about how to move ahead. But the important thing is that we’ve got this guy off the street, and Neptune is safe again.”

“Sheriff Lamb, some people are saying that Murphy is
involved with a larger criminal organization. Can you speak to these rumors?”

So they weren’t completely stupid. Veronica wasn’t surprised that the question had come from Martina Vasquez, a reporter for San Diego’s local news station. Lamb’s eyes darted toward her, his mouth gaping for just a moment before he collected himself.

“Well, Martina, I can’t respond to rampant speculation, and frankly, I think it’s irresponsible for the media to report hearsay as fact.” He leaned one arm on the lectern, smiling at Martina as if she’d just made some cute and childish mistake.

Mac made a strangled noise in the back of her throat.

“Hard to believe he’s single, isn’t it?” Veronica whispered. But she couldn’t hide her grin. If anyone was going to dig a little deeper, it would be Martina Vasquez, who seemed to like the Sheriff’s Department about as much as Veronica did. Maybe she could even send Martina an anonymous tip or two about the Gutiérrez boys. A little media attention might help Lamb take an interest in the cartel’s laundering operation.

“Do you think Murphy will lead you to the girls’ bodies?” someone asked from the crowd.

Lamb fidgeted with the note cards he’d prepared. “So far he’s not offering any information. But I have faith we’ll get it out of him sooner or later. Once he realizes he’s got no choice, it’ll just be a matter of time.”

Next to her, Veronica heard Keith exhale a small, exasperated sigh. His jaw was tight, but he watched the proceedings without any other reaction. She knew that poker
face from experience. The deeper the anger, the harder the puzzle, the higher the stakes, the calmer Keith Mars looked. Which meant that right now, he was pissed.