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Fic: Down Again #5: There's No 'I' In Team ... (Veronica Mars, Lamb/Veronica)
Title: There's No 'I' In Team (But There Are Two In Martini)
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing(s): Lamb/Veronica
Word Count: 4209
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Featuring Manhattans, dry martinis, and watermelons. Oh, and Veronica finds out who was responsible for framing Wallace.
Notes: Sequel to What Goes Down. Fifth in the Down Again series. AU from episode 3:2 - My Big Fat Greek Rush Week; potential spoilers up to the end of season three.
Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
"So, tell me again why I'm letting you stay here?"
Wallace rolled his eyes, but he shifted over on the couch to let Veronica sit beside him. "I think it has something to do with the fact that my mom will kill me if she finds out I got suspended from school."
"Oh," she said, reaching over to take a handful of his popcorn. "That."
"Yeah, that," he said. "That, and the fact that it was your job to figure out who was behind all that point shaving stuff before I got kicked out."
"Hey," she said, leaning over him to change to channel with the remote. "I'm doing the best I can, here. I do have a few other things on my plate."
"Sorry."
"Don't apologise," she said. "I should have fixed this already. I've just been distracted."
"Yeah, your distraction called about three times while you were at class. Aren't you supposed to take your cell phone with you when you leave the house?"
Veronica didn't want to admit that she'd been dodging Lamb's calls. It seemed easier to just accidentally miss them. "You answered my phone?"
"Let it go to voice mail," Wallace assured her. "But you have caller ID."
She decided a change of subject was in order. "So, this is what you do all day when I'm not here? Eat popcorn and watch TV?"
"Only on Wednesdays," he said, smiling as he snatched the remote back from her. "Actually, I think I'm this close to talking your dad into taking me on a case with him."
"I think your mom would kill him for that."
Keith chose that moment to get home, raising his eyebrows as Veronica finished. "You're not talking about me, I hope."
"Actually," Veronica said, "we were."
"All good things, I trust." He looked from Veronica to Wallace. "How is your mom, anyway?"
"She's good," Wallace said, and glanced at Veronica. "Actually, I don't think she's seeing anyone at the moment, so, you know ..."
"Well, I'm sure she's doing fine," Keith said, and Veronica couldn't read the look on his face. "So, what are you kids up to?"
Veronica shrugged. "We were just talking about how Wallace was framed for point shaving and kicked off the basketball team."
"Uh huh."
"And how we're going to find out who really did it and make them pay."
"Okay," Keith said. "Well, there's nothing like a bit of revenge when your week starts to get boring."
He took a couple of steps towards his room, and then turned back.
"You know, I'm starting to have some serious doubts about that college of yours."
"Yeah," Veronica muttered, when he was gone. "Me, too."
She turned back to Wallace.
"So, did you find out who it was yet?"
"Yeah," he said, leaning back. "I called in a few favours."
"And?"
"Guy named Peter Langley. He's a starter, a junior."
"Well," she said, smiling. "Peter Langley is about to rue the day he ever crossed Wallace Fennel."
"You mean the day he crossed Veronica Mars."
She shrugged. "Same difference. So, we have a name. That should make it a lot easier to get proof that he was really the one behind all this."
"You sure you want to do this alone?" Wallace asked. "'Cause I got your back, if you need me."
"I know," she said. "But you should stay off campus, just to be safe. I can handle it."
Wallace nodded, but he looked disappointed. She guessed cabin fever was already beginning to set in.
"I'll get this done," she assured him. "You'll be back in your tiny two-person dorm before you even know it. Now, any idea where this Peter Langley lives?"
Ten minutes later, armed with a room number and her cell phone, Veronica set off to clear Wallace's name.
-
She was almost at Peter's room when her cell phone rang, and for a second, she almost regretted not leaving it at home again. She rifled through her bag until she found the phone, and glanced down at the caller ID.
Lamb.
Again.
She sent the call through to voice mail, feeling guilty as she did it. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to him, she told herself; she was just busy.
And apparently, the reason for her being busy had come out to meet her.
"Peter Langley?" she asked, as she guy in front of her stepped out of his room.
He shrugged. "Yeah?"
Well, that was easy.
"I think we have some business to discuss."
He tried to step around her, and she moved, blocking his path. "I'm kind of busy right now."
"Yeah, me too," she said, reaching out an arm to stop him passing. "But I think you'll want to listen to this."
He stopped, apparently resigned to having to talk to her, and gave her an impatient look.
"I believe we have a mutual friend in common. Wallace Fennel?"
He started looking like he was going to bolt again, and she advanced on him.
"You know, the same Wallace Fennel you got kicked off the basketball team for point shaving? Except you and I both know he's innocent, don't we, Peter?"
He didn't say anything, and she took another step forward.
"Now, I'm going to give you a choice. Either you come clean, and confess that it was really you who cheated last year, or I make your life a living hell. Trust me, I've done it before."
"Wait," he said, backing up. "You think I'm the one who shaved those points?"
"Why else would you tell the coach that it was Wallace?"
He shook his head. "I don't cheat, okay? I would never do that."
"Okay," she said, and shrugged. "If you want to do it the hard way ..."
"I don't want to do anything the hard way," he said. "But I'm innocent, okay?"
"Then why Wallace?" she demanded. "I know you didn't see him talking to a bookie."
He looked away. "I was just repeating what I heard."
"Heard from who?"
"A couple of guys on the team." He shrugged. "I don't know."
"So, you hear some people gossiping, and you decide to repeat what you heard to the coach? Only, you pretend the story's your own. Pull the other one."
"It's the truth," he insisted. "Look, maybe I lied a little, but nobody else was coming forward. And if what they said was true, I had to say something."
"That's a pretty big if," she said. "But okay, I'll bite. Whose word was so convincing that you ran off to turn in Wallace without even checking to see if it was true?"
He hesitated, but then glanced at his watch. For once, it seemed, time was on her side. "How about the captain of the basketball team?"
Veronica smiled. This guy was too easy. "This captain got a name?"
"Yeah," he said, with a sigh. "Todd Gilman."
She nodded. "If I find out you're lying to me, I will be back here. And next time, I'm not going to give you a choice."
"I'm terrified," he said, and pushed past her.
Veronica rolled her eyes as he left. It could be tedious, sometimes, having to scare people all over again.
Maybe she'd ruin his life anyway, just for fun.
-
This time, Veronica did her research before questioning Todd Gilman. After uncovering several unpaid parking tickets and one embarrassing incident involving another student that she thought he'd probably rather stayed buried, she felt more than prepared to face him.
She caught him in his room, after knocking three times and waiting for a minute while he switched off what sounded like a very violent video game.
"Todd Gilman?" she asked, when he finally opened the door.
"Yeah," he said, as if it should be obvious. "Who are you?"
"Veronica," she said. "I'm a friend of Wallace's."
He drew back enough at the statement that she guessed Peter had been telling the truth. It was a pity; she had dug up some good dirt on him, too.
"I think you and I need to talk about what you said you saw Wallace doing."
He shook his head. "I don't need to talk to you about anything."
"Simon Tedeschi would beg to differ," she said. His eyes widened, and she gasped theatrically. "I'm sorry, was that supposed to be a secret? Maybe I shouldn't repeat the story right here in the hallway, then."
Todd glanced around at a couple of people walking past, and stepped away from the doorway. "Fine. Whatever."
"So gracious of you," she said as she stepped inside, and he closed the door behind her.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Let's start with why you're framing Wallace for cheating, and end with me not destroying you."
He scoffed, but he still looked nervous. "What's there to say? He cheated, he got caught. It's the way things work."
"Simon -"
"All right," he said. "Enough with that. What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to say that you lied."
He studied her for a minute, as if trying to guess the odds of her telling everyone in a fifty foot radius what she knew about him.
He guessed right.
"Fine," he said. "I lied."
"Great. Now I want you to tell that to the coach."
"No way," he said, and she rolled her eyes. Why did people always insist on making it difficult for her?
"I'm guessing you weren't the only one involved here," she said, trying a slightly different approach. "Since you were injured for one of the games where the point shaving occurred. I want to know who else is involved, and I think you're about to tell me."
"Then think again," he said, "because I'm not telling you anything."
"Do you seriously think I'm bluffing?"
"I seriously don't care. Tell whoever you want. If I tell you who was cheating, I'm looking at way worse."
"Worse than this?"
"Yeah."
Yowza.
"That story you keep throwing about," he said, "is embarrassing. This could ruin my career, and I'm not talking about point shaving. I'm looking to go pro, and this guy ..."
He looked at her, as if to indicate that whatever information the other guy had on him scared him way more than she did. She held his gaze for a minute, and then opened the door.
"Good luck with that," she said. "I'll tell Simon to root for you."
-
Veronica could try to dig up more dirt on Todd Gilman, find out what the mystery player had on him. It obviously scared him a lot more than point shaving allegations, and that meant it had to be something big. But she hadn't found anything the first time she'd checked him out, and she thought there was probably an easier way.
"Veronica," Alan greeted her, as she entered the makeshift casino. "I haven't seen you around here in a while."
"Yeah, well," she said. "Listen, you take bets on sports, right?"
"Yeah," he said. "What do you want to bet on?"
She smiled. "Nothing, actually. I was just wondering, do a lot of people bet on Hearst basketball?"
He shrugged. "A few. It's pretty popular. Good money maker."
"That's great," she said. "Is there any chance you'd remember anyone in particular? Anyone who would have stood out. They would have come in last year?"
"I don't ..." He thought for a minute. "Wait, there was this one guy. He wanted to bet big. Like, really big. I'm all for making a profit, but I don't cover bets that size. Good thing, too. He would have won it all. Hearst was pretty heavily favoured."
"I don't suppose you took down this guy's name before you turned away his money?"
Alan smiled grimly. "Sorry."
"Yeah," she said. "I figured. Any idea who he was?"
"Maybe. I mean, he looked kind of familiar. I think I used to see him around here last year, pretty regular, but he hasn't been in for a while."
"Thanks," she said. That didn't exactly narrow down the field of candidates, but maybe it would give her something she could work with.
"And I think he's on the team," he said, and she froze.
"The Hearst basketball team? Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he said slowly. "I only remember because it seemed weird he was betting against his own team, you know?"
Well, Veronica thought, Alan would know something about that. She didn't mention it, though; she was pretty sure he'd just given her the name of the player responsible for Wallace's suspension. Someone who stopped coming into the casino last year, right around the time she started working there, could have been a coincidence. A basketball player who did the same thing? Sounded more like proof.
"Hey," Alan said, as she was about to leave. "If you're not busy this weekend, I could use someone else on the tables."
Veronica thought about Sam Mercano's casino, then, about Liam Fitzpatrick holding her hostage, holding a knife to her throat. Lamb shooting her.
She didn't need the reminder. She still had the scar.
"Thanks," she said, "but I'll pass. I've got a charity function to attend."
-
The Theta Betas' rare charity events were some of the only things left on the social calendar after Dean O'Dell had finished auditing the Greek system. Normally, they were things most Theta Betas would have tried to avoid, not tending to be high on the sorority girl fantasy checklist.
This afternoon's pantomime, at the Sunshine Wellness retirement facility, was packed. Of course, Veronica attributed that less to the amusing costumes and general dearth of approved social events, and more to the devious minds behind the Theta Beta social committee, who had somehow managed to make the visit a can't-miss event.
Even Veronica had to admit that it was clever. Take a bunch of humiliating outfits, add in a group of old people, and gently season with a secret party in an unused conference room. The perfect recipe for college-sanctioned fun.
Veronica's stint on stage, thankfully, was brief. She didn't mind lying a little - okay, a lot - or even slipping into character for a case, but acting really wasn't her thing. Still, she felt sorrier for people like Siobhann, who had to stay out there all afternoon. And in lycra, no less.
Really, though, she wasn't entirely sure that the party awaiting her down the hall was a much more desirable option.
The Theta Betas looked up nervously as she entered, and Kelly jumped up to close the door behind her.
"Thank god," she said. She looked more high-strung than ever, and Veronica guessed she wasn't the only one rethinking the party. "I took a tiny break to help Becky out of her costume, and suddenly the door's opening every three seconds. I mean, I really don't think anyone's going to come in here, but -"
"Relax," Sarah said. She was sitting in a rough circle on the floor, along with some of the other Theta Betas. "Everything's fine. It's perfect."
It wasn't surprising that Sarah would vouch for the party; it, like so many others, had been her idea. Kelly had taken it up happily enough, but ever since they'd arrived, she'd spent every spare minute running around, organising costumes, making sure the pantomime was going smoothly, and standing guard to make sure they weren't caught. Of course, she had a little help with the last job in the form of Morty, eighty one years old and a resident of the Sunshine Wellness facility, who had, it seemed, taken quite a shine to her.
In fact, now that Veronica looked around, quite a few people in the room seemed to be residents. Apparently, despite Kelly's best efforts, word had gotten out. Residents were now, like the Theta Betas, slipping in and out of the party in order to avoid suspicion, though their Veronica had a sneaking suspicion their numbers were growing with each new arrival.
"Everything's fine out there," she assured Kelly. "But, speaking of costumes, could somebody help me out of mine?"
Becky, freshly out of her own costume, rushed over to help. Kelly slipped out of the door and back into the hallway, once more accompanied by Morty.
A couple of minutes and some effort later, Veronica was dressed once more in regular clothes and finally able to relax. She glanced around the room, decided to skip the game of I Never that Belinda was enthusiastically participating in, and sat down instead at the sparsely populated table that doubled as the bar.
One of the two men sitting there, a silver-haired man who barely looked old enough to be a resident, looked over at her.
"Drink?" he offered. "I make a mean Manhattan."
Veronica thought about it for a minute, and then nodded. "Sure."
He grinned at her, the kind of smile that men old enough to be her grandfather shouldn't be allowed, and reached for a bottle.
"So," she said. "Is this a regular Saturday afternoon around here?"
"A regular Saturday around here," the other man said, "is playing bridge and watching bad television. You girls are angels."
Glancing behind her, Veronica doubted that very much.
"Some of us play tennis," her impromptu bartender added. "But Sam is a little old for that. I'm Carlos, by the way."
"Veronica," she said. After a second, he handed her the cocktail, and she took a sip. "You're right. This is pretty good."
"Pretty good," he scoffed. "Come back when you've got a few more years on you, and we'll talk about pretty good."
"Yeah, but can he mix a dry martini worth a damn?" Sam asked, pouring his own drink. "And you and me" - he nodded at Carlos - "we'll see who's too old when I kick your butt next weekend."
Carlos shook his head, still looking at Veronica. "Says the man who almost didn't want to come to the party."
Sam downed half his drink in one, which Veronica thought was pretty impressive. "I just like to know what I'm getting into."
"And you thought these sweet little girls were going to rat you out? You're more paranoid than Ronna sometimes."
"Rat you out?" Veronica asked, confused.
Carlos smiled again. "Sam practically had himself convinced you girls were hired by the house. Thought this was some kind of sting operation or something. That is, until he came in here and found half a dozen of you half-dressed."
"I changed my mind," Sam said simply.
Veronica took another sip of her drink, but raised her eyebrows at Sam. He looked unapologetic.
"So," Carlos said. "What do you usually do, when you're not here patronising us old folks?"
She shrugged. "Just regular girl stuff."
Solving crimes. Investigating murders. Avenging the wrongly accused.
Just regular girl stuff, all right.
Sam leaned forward. "So, do you have a fella?"
She laughed, but thought immediately of Lamb, and of the seven - no, eight - unanswered phone calls she still hadn't gotten around to returning.
"Um," she said. "It's complicated."
Sam sighed wistfully. "The best ones always are."
-
As if thinking about someone hard enough really could make them appear, Lamb was waiting for her when she got home.
"Hey," she said, as she approached him. She was in a good mood, still slightly tipsy from Carlos' cocktails, and it had been far too long since she'd seen Lamb without fighting with him. "Waiting for me at home now? That's a risky proposition. My dad has a gun in there, you know."
"I tried calling," he said. "Apparently, you don't answer your phone any more."
She thought again about the voice mail messages, and tried not to let the guilt show on her face. She had intended to return them, she told herself firmly.
"I'm glad you're here," she said, dodging the accusation. Lamb's expression said he didn't quite believe her. "You would have liked me today. I was a watermelon."
"You were a what?" For a minute, his scepticism was gone, replaced by amusement and a touch of incredulity. "You were a watermelon?"
"It was a ... it was complicated," she eventually settled for.
"It always is with you."
"I thought you liked that about me," she said, and she could see him smile, though he tried his best to hide it. "So, what did you come here to talk to me about? It obviously wasn't my choice of pantomime wear, and I'm guessing this isn't a social visit."
He looked away, and she braced herself. "I just thought you'd want to know that I spoke to Budd Rose."
"I know," she said. "I was there when you went to the house."
The last traces of his amusement suddenly vanished, and she thought maybe it hadn't been the best idea to remind him. Her good mood was fading fast, too.
"Besides," she said. "I'm not working on the case, remember?"
He stared at her for a minute, and she relented.
"Okay, fine. What have you got? Did he confess? Do you have him in a holding cell already?" She frowned, and a vision of Hallie flashed before her eyes. "I hope it's a small one."
"None of the above."
"He's holding out on you?"
Lamb sighed. "He's not the guy, Veronica."
She raised an eyebrow challengingly. "What, and you just know that?"
"It's my job to know that."
"And it's my job to tell you that you're wrong."
"No," he said, "it's not. It's your job to go to college, study for classes, and graduate. It's not your job to do mine."
She ignored him. "Budd Rose was married to a very wealthy woman before he started sleeping with Hallie. They broke up, she took it badly, and now he's living in a house that probably could have fit inside his old living room."
"You don't know that she took it badly," he pointed out. Apparently, he'd decided he wasn't going to get out of discussing the case with her.
Anyway, he'd brought it up first.
"She never even told anyone about the affair," he said.
"Yeah," Veronica said. "And what does that tell you?"
"It tells me that she didn't want to talk about her scumbag ex. I don't generally go around talking about my exes."
No, but Madison Sinclair did.
"Speaking of your exes," she said, "I hear Madison's back in town."
He visibly paled. Once upon a time, that would have given her comfort. Now, it just made her a little sick to her stomach.
"I know," he said slowly.
"You know?" No. She was not going to worry about how he knew.
He shrugged. "She's been hanging around the sheriff's department."
"Really?" she asked, as coldly as she could manage. He looked back at her impassively. "And you were planning on telling me about this when?"
"How about never?" he asked. "She's just a stupid -"
Stupid kid. He hadn't stopped himself in time to keep it from being written all over his face.
Madison was her age. She was about to say as much when Lamb spoke first.
"Are you actually jealous about this, or are you just looking for an excuse to pick a fight?"
She'd forgotten that sometimes he was almost as capable of reading her as she was of reading him.
She looked back at him with all the fury she could manage. "We're already fighting."
"Yeah, we are."
They were almost yelling, too, which probably wasn't a good thing, considering her dad was probably inside. He didn't tend to take very well to guys fighting with her.
That seemed to occur to Lamb, too, because he glanced behind her, and took a deep breath. The muscle in his jaw was working overtime, and there was still anger in his eyes. "Budd Rose didn't kill Hallie."
"Married men don't take too kindly to having their secret affairs revealed," she said. "It's motive."
"It was motive for Aaron Echolls, you mean."
That stung, and Lamb knew it. She sucked in a breath. "This has nothing to do with Lilly."
"Think about it, Veronica," he said. "Don't you think you're getting a little too emotional?"
"And I shouldn't get emotional when one of my friends is dead?" she demanded. "Maybe I should just be like you, and shrug it off. Pretend it never happened."
He looked away, and she knew she'd hit her mark. The victory felt surprisingly empty.
"I want you off this case," he said, and she rolled her eyes.
"You know, you've already -"
"I'm serious," he interrupted her. "I want you off it, for good. I mean it. I want you to tell me you're going to stay the hell away from the case, and then I want you to do it."
He was holding her in place, his fingers not quite digging into her arms, and she had no choice but to look at him. He stared back at her, unblinking, and she wondered what he'd do if she refused.
"Fine," she said, and he released her. "I won't go anywhere near the case, I promise."
He nodded, ever so slightly, and walked away. She waited until he was gone, and then slipped quietly into the house.
All in all, her day could have been better.
Next: Part 6, Part 7
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing(s): Lamb/Veronica
Word Count: 4209
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Featuring Manhattans, dry martinis, and watermelons. Oh, and Veronica finds out who was responsible for framing Wallace.
Notes: Sequel to What Goes Down. Fifth in the Down Again series. AU from episode 3:2 - My Big Fat Greek Rush Week; potential spoilers up to the end of season three.
Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
"So, tell me again why I'm letting you stay here?"
Wallace rolled his eyes, but he shifted over on the couch to let Veronica sit beside him. "I think it has something to do with the fact that my mom will kill me if she finds out I got suspended from school."
"Oh," she said, reaching over to take a handful of his popcorn. "That."
"Yeah, that," he said. "That, and the fact that it was your job to figure out who was behind all that point shaving stuff before I got kicked out."
"Hey," she said, leaning over him to change to channel with the remote. "I'm doing the best I can, here. I do have a few other things on my plate."
"Sorry."
"Don't apologise," she said. "I should have fixed this already. I've just been distracted."
"Yeah, your distraction called about three times while you were at class. Aren't you supposed to take your cell phone with you when you leave the house?"
Veronica didn't want to admit that she'd been dodging Lamb's calls. It seemed easier to just accidentally miss them. "You answered my phone?"
"Let it go to voice mail," Wallace assured her. "But you have caller ID."
She decided a change of subject was in order. "So, this is what you do all day when I'm not here? Eat popcorn and watch TV?"
"Only on Wednesdays," he said, smiling as he snatched the remote back from her. "Actually, I think I'm this close to talking your dad into taking me on a case with him."
"I think your mom would kill him for that."
Keith chose that moment to get home, raising his eyebrows as Veronica finished. "You're not talking about me, I hope."
"Actually," Veronica said, "we were."
"All good things, I trust." He looked from Veronica to Wallace. "How is your mom, anyway?"
"She's good," Wallace said, and glanced at Veronica. "Actually, I don't think she's seeing anyone at the moment, so, you know ..."
"Well, I'm sure she's doing fine," Keith said, and Veronica couldn't read the look on his face. "So, what are you kids up to?"
Veronica shrugged. "We were just talking about how Wallace was framed for point shaving and kicked off the basketball team."
"Uh huh."
"And how we're going to find out who really did it and make them pay."
"Okay," Keith said. "Well, there's nothing like a bit of revenge when your week starts to get boring."
He took a couple of steps towards his room, and then turned back.
"You know, I'm starting to have some serious doubts about that college of yours."
"Yeah," Veronica muttered, when he was gone. "Me, too."
She turned back to Wallace.
"So, did you find out who it was yet?"
"Yeah," he said, leaning back. "I called in a few favours."
"And?"
"Guy named Peter Langley. He's a starter, a junior."
"Well," she said, smiling. "Peter Langley is about to rue the day he ever crossed Wallace Fennel."
"You mean the day he crossed Veronica Mars."
She shrugged. "Same difference. So, we have a name. That should make it a lot easier to get proof that he was really the one behind all this."
"You sure you want to do this alone?" Wallace asked. "'Cause I got your back, if you need me."
"I know," she said. "But you should stay off campus, just to be safe. I can handle it."
Wallace nodded, but he looked disappointed. She guessed cabin fever was already beginning to set in.
"I'll get this done," she assured him. "You'll be back in your tiny two-person dorm before you even know it. Now, any idea where this Peter Langley lives?"
Ten minutes later, armed with a room number and her cell phone, Veronica set off to clear Wallace's name.
-
She was almost at Peter's room when her cell phone rang, and for a second, she almost regretted not leaving it at home again. She rifled through her bag until she found the phone, and glanced down at the caller ID.
Lamb.
Again.
She sent the call through to voice mail, feeling guilty as she did it. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to him, she told herself; she was just busy.
And apparently, the reason for her being busy had come out to meet her.
"Peter Langley?" she asked, as she guy in front of her stepped out of his room.
He shrugged. "Yeah?"
Well, that was easy.
"I think we have some business to discuss."
He tried to step around her, and she moved, blocking his path. "I'm kind of busy right now."
"Yeah, me too," she said, reaching out an arm to stop him passing. "But I think you'll want to listen to this."
He stopped, apparently resigned to having to talk to her, and gave her an impatient look.
"I believe we have a mutual friend in common. Wallace Fennel?"
He started looking like he was going to bolt again, and she advanced on him.
"You know, the same Wallace Fennel you got kicked off the basketball team for point shaving? Except you and I both know he's innocent, don't we, Peter?"
He didn't say anything, and she took another step forward.
"Now, I'm going to give you a choice. Either you come clean, and confess that it was really you who cheated last year, or I make your life a living hell. Trust me, I've done it before."
"Wait," he said, backing up. "You think I'm the one who shaved those points?"
"Why else would you tell the coach that it was Wallace?"
He shook his head. "I don't cheat, okay? I would never do that."
"Okay," she said, and shrugged. "If you want to do it the hard way ..."
"I don't want to do anything the hard way," he said. "But I'm innocent, okay?"
"Then why Wallace?" she demanded. "I know you didn't see him talking to a bookie."
He looked away. "I was just repeating what I heard."
"Heard from who?"
"A couple of guys on the team." He shrugged. "I don't know."
"So, you hear some people gossiping, and you decide to repeat what you heard to the coach? Only, you pretend the story's your own. Pull the other one."
"It's the truth," he insisted. "Look, maybe I lied a little, but nobody else was coming forward. And if what they said was true, I had to say something."
"That's a pretty big if," she said. "But okay, I'll bite. Whose word was so convincing that you ran off to turn in Wallace without even checking to see if it was true?"
He hesitated, but then glanced at his watch. For once, it seemed, time was on her side. "How about the captain of the basketball team?"
Veronica smiled. This guy was too easy. "This captain got a name?"
"Yeah," he said, with a sigh. "Todd Gilman."
She nodded. "If I find out you're lying to me, I will be back here. And next time, I'm not going to give you a choice."
"I'm terrified," he said, and pushed past her.
Veronica rolled her eyes as he left. It could be tedious, sometimes, having to scare people all over again.
Maybe she'd ruin his life anyway, just for fun.
-
This time, Veronica did her research before questioning Todd Gilman. After uncovering several unpaid parking tickets and one embarrassing incident involving another student that she thought he'd probably rather stayed buried, she felt more than prepared to face him.
She caught him in his room, after knocking three times and waiting for a minute while he switched off what sounded like a very violent video game.
"Todd Gilman?" she asked, when he finally opened the door.
"Yeah," he said, as if it should be obvious. "Who are you?"
"Veronica," she said. "I'm a friend of Wallace's."
He drew back enough at the statement that she guessed Peter had been telling the truth. It was a pity; she had dug up some good dirt on him, too.
"I think you and I need to talk about what you said you saw Wallace doing."
He shook his head. "I don't need to talk to you about anything."
"Simon Tedeschi would beg to differ," she said. His eyes widened, and she gasped theatrically. "I'm sorry, was that supposed to be a secret? Maybe I shouldn't repeat the story right here in the hallway, then."
Todd glanced around at a couple of people walking past, and stepped away from the doorway. "Fine. Whatever."
"So gracious of you," she said as she stepped inside, and he closed the door behind her.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Let's start with why you're framing Wallace for cheating, and end with me not destroying you."
He scoffed, but he still looked nervous. "What's there to say? He cheated, he got caught. It's the way things work."
"Simon -"
"All right," he said. "Enough with that. What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to say that you lied."
He studied her for a minute, as if trying to guess the odds of her telling everyone in a fifty foot radius what she knew about him.
He guessed right.
"Fine," he said. "I lied."
"Great. Now I want you to tell that to the coach."
"No way," he said, and she rolled her eyes. Why did people always insist on making it difficult for her?
"I'm guessing you weren't the only one involved here," she said, trying a slightly different approach. "Since you were injured for one of the games where the point shaving occurred. I want to know who else is involved, and I think you're about to tell me."
"Then think again," he said, "because I'm not telling you anything."
"Do you seriously think I'm bluffing?"
"I seriously don't care. Tell whoever you want. If I tell you who was cheating, I'm looking at way worse."
"Worse than this?"
"Yeah."
Yowza.
"That story you keep throwing about," he said, "is embarrassing. This could ruin my career, and I'm not talking about point shaving. I'm looking to go pro, and this guy ..."
He looked at her, as if to indicate that whatever information the other guy had on him scared him way more than she did. She held his gaze for a minute, and then opened the door.
"Good luck with that," she said. "I'll tell Simon to root for you."
-
Veronica could try to dig up more dirt on Todd Gilman, find out what the mystery player had on him. It obviously scared him a lot more than point shaving allegations, and that meant it had to be something big. But she hadn't found anything the first time she'd checked him out, and she thought there was probably an easier way.
"Veronica," Alan greeted her, as she entered the makeshift casino. "I haven't seen you around here in a while."
"Yeah, well," she said. "Listen, you take bets on sports, right?"
"Yeah," he said. "What do you want to bet on?"
She smiled. "Nothing, actually. I was just wondering, do a lot of people bet on Hearst basketball?"
He shrugged. "A few. It's pretty popular. Good money maker."
"That's great," she said. "Is there any chance you'd remember anyone in particular? Anyone who would have stood out. They would have come in last year?"
"I don't ..." He thought for a minute. "Wait, there was this one guy. He wanted to bet big. Like, really big. I'm all for making a profit, but I don't cover bets that size. Good thing, too. He would have won it all. Hearst was pretty heavily favoured."
"I don't suppose you took down this guy's name before you turned away his money?"
Alan smiled grimly. "Sorry."
"Yeah," she said. "I figured. Any idea who he was?"
"Maybe. I mean, he looked kind of familiar. I think I used to see him around here last year, pretty regular, but he hasn't been in for a while."
"Thanks," she said. That didn't exactly narrow down the field of candidates, but maybe it would give her something she could work with.
"And I think he's on the team," he said, and she froze.
"The Hearst basketball team? Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he said slowly. "I only remember because it seemed weird he was betting against his own team, you know?"
Well, Veronica thought, Alan would know something about that. She didn't mention it, though; she was pretty sure he'd just given her the name of the player responsible for Wallace's suspension. Someone who stopped coming into the casino last year, right around the time she started working there, could have been a coincidence. A basketball player who did the same thing? Sounded more like proof.
"Hey," Alan said, as she was about to leave. "If you're not busy this weekend, I could use someone else on the tables."
Veronica thought about Sam Mercano's casino, then, about Liam Fitzpatrick holding her hostage, holding a knife to her throat. Lamb shooting her.
She didn't need the reminder. She still had the scar.
"Thanks," she said, "but I'll pass. I've got a charity function to attend."
-
The Theta Betas' rare charity events were some of the only things left on the social calendar after Dean O'Dell had finished auditing the Greek system. Normally, they were things most Theta Betas would have tried to avoid, not tending to be high on the sorority girl fantasy checklist.
This afternoon's pantomime, at the Sunshine Wellness retirement facility, was packed. Of course, Veronica attributed that less to the amusing costumes and general dearth of approved social events, and more to the devious minds behind the Theta Beta social committee, who had somehow managed to make the visit a can't-miss event.
Even Veronica had to admit that it was clever. Take a bunch of humiliating outfits, add in a group of old people, and gently season with a secret party in an unused conference room. The perfect recipe for college-sanctioned fun.
Veronica's stint on stage, thankfully, was brief. She didn't mind lying a little - okay, a lot - or even slipping into character for a case, but acting really wasn't her thing. Still, she felt sorrier for people like Siobhann, who had to stay out there all afternoon. And in lycra, no less.
Really, though, she wasn't entirely sure that the party awaiting her down the hall was a much more desirable option.
The Theta Betas looked up nervously as she entered, and Kelly jumped up to close the door behind her.
"Thank god," she said. She looked more high-strung than ever, and Veronica guessed she wasn't the only one rethinking the party. "I took a tiny break to help Becky out of her costume, and suddenly the door's opening every three seconds. I mean, I really don't think anyone's going to come in here, but -"
"Relax," Sarah said. She was sitting in a rough circle on the floor, along with some of the other Theta Betas. "Everything's fine. It's perfect."
It wasn't surprising that Sarah would vouch for the party; it, like so many others, had been her idea. Kelly had taken it up happily enough, but ever since they'd arrived, she'd spent every spare minute running around, organising costumes, making sure the pantomime was going smoothly, and standing guard to make sure they weren't caught. Of course, she had a little help with the last job in the form of Morty, eighty one years old and a resident of the Sunshine Wellness facility, who had, it seemed, taken quite a shine to her.
In fact, now that Veronica looked around, quite a few people in the room seemed to be residents. Apparently, despite Kelly's best efforts, word had gotten out. Residents were now, like the Theta Betas, slipping in and out of the party in order to avoid suspicion, though their Veronica had a sneaking suspicion their numbers were growing with each new arrival.
"Everything's fine out there," she assured Kelly. "But, speaking of costumes, could somebody help me out of mine?"
Becky, freshly out of her own costume, rushed over to help. Kelly slipped out of the door and back into the hallway, once more accompanied by Morty.
A couple of minutes and some effort later, Veronica was dressed once more in regular clothes and finally able to relax. She glanced around the room, decided to skip the game of I Never that Belinda was enthusiastically participating in, and sat down instead at the sparsely populated table that doubled as the bar.
One of the two men sitting there, a silver-haired man who barely looked old enough to be a resident, looked over at her.
"Drink?" he offered. "I make a mean Manhattan."
Veronica thought about it for a minute, and then nodded. "Sure."
He grinned at her, the kind of smile that men old enough to be her grandfather shouldn't be allowed, and reached for a bottle.
"So," she said. "Is this a regular Saturday afternoon around here?"
"A regular Saturday around here," the other man said, "is playing bridge and watching bad television. You girls are angels."
Glancing behind her, Veronica doubted that very much.
"Some of us play tennis," her impromptu bartender added. "But Sam is a little old for that. I'm Carlos, by the way."
"Veronica," she said. After a second, he handed her the cocktail, and she took a sip. "You're right. This is pretty good."
"Pretty good," he scoffed. "Come back when you've got a few more years on you, and we'll talk about pretty good."
"Yeah, but can he mix a dry martini worth a damn?" Sam asked, pouring his own drink. "And you and me" - he nodded at Carlos - "we'll see who's too old when I kick your butt next weekend."
Carlos shook his head, still looking at Veronica. "Says the man who almost didn't want to come to the party."
Sam downed half his drink in one, which Veronica thought was pretty impressive. "I just like to know what I'm getting into."
"And you thought these sweet little girls were going to rat you out? You're more paranoid than Ronna sometimes."
"Rat you out?" Veronica asked, confused.
Carlos smiled again. "Sam practically had himself convinced you girls were hired by the house. Thought this was some kind of sting operation or something. That is, until he came in here and found half a dozen of you half-dressed."
"I changed my mind," Sam said simply.
Veronica took another sip of her drink, but raised her eyebrows at Sam. He looked unapologetic.
"So," Carlos said. "What do you usually do, when you're not here patronising us old folks?"
She shrugged. "Just regular girl stuff."
Solving crimes. Investigating murders. Avenging the wrongly accused.
Just regular girl stuff, all right.
Sam leaned forward. "So, do you have a fella?"
She laughed, but thought immediately of Lamb, and of the seven - no, eight - unanswered phone calls she still hadn't gotten around to returning.
"Um," she said. "It's complicated."
Sam sighed wistfully. "The best ones always are."
-
As if thinking about someone hard enough really could make them appear, Lamb was waiting for her when she got home.
"Hey," she said, as she approached him. She was in a good mood, still slightly tipsy from Carlos' cocktails, and it had been far too long since she'd seen Lamb without fighting with him. "Waiting for me at home now? That's a risky proposition. My dad has a gun in there, you know."
"I tried calling," he said. "Apparently, you don't answer your phone any more."
She thought again about the voice mail messages, and tried not to let the guilt show on her face. She had intended to return them, she told herself firmly.
"I'm glad you're here," she said, dodging the accusation. Lamb's expression said he didn't quite believe her. "You would have liked me today. I was a watermelon."
"You were a what?" For a minute, his scepticism was gone, replaced by amusement and a touch of incredulity. "You were a watermelon?"
"It was a ... it was complicated," she eventually settled for.
"It always is with you."
"I thought you liked that about me," she said, and she could see him smile, though he tried his best to hide it. "So, what did you come here to talk to me about? It obviously wasn't my choice of pantomime wear, and I'm guessing this isn't a social visit."
He looked away, and she braced herself. "I just thought you'd want to know that I spoke to Budd Rose."
"I know," she said. "I was there when you went to the house."
The last traces of his amusement suddenly vanished, and she thought maybe it hadn't been the best idea to remind him. Her good mood was fading fast, too.
"Besides," she said. "I'm not working on the case, remember?"
He stared at her for a minute, and she relented.
"Okay, fine. What have you got? Did he confess? Do you have him in a holding cell already?" She frowned, and a vision of Hallie flashed before her eyes. "I hope it's a small one."
"None of the above."
"He's holding out on you?"
Lamb sighed. "He's not the guy, Veronica."
She raised an eyebrow challengingly. "What, and you just know that?"
"It's my job to know that."
"And it's my job to tell you that you're wrong."
"No," he said, "it's not. It's your job to go to college, study for classes, and graduate. It's not your job to do mine."
She ignored him. "Budd Rose was married to a very wealthy woman before he started sleeping with Hallie. They broke up, she took it badly, and now he's living in a house that probably could have fit inside his old living room."
"You don't know that she took it badly," he pointed out. Apparently, he'd decided he wasn't going to get out of discussing the case with her.
Anyway, he'd brought it up first.
"She never even told anyone about the affair," he said.
"Yeah," Veronica said. "And what does that tell you?"
"It tells me that she didn't want to talk about her scumbag ex. I don't generally go around talking about my exes."
No, but Madison Sinclair did.
"Speaking of your exes," she said, "I hear Madison's back in town."
He visibly paled. Once upon a time, that would have given her comfort. Now, it just made her a little sick to her stomach.
"I know," he said slowly.
"You know?" No. She was not going to worry about how he knew.
He shrugged. "She's been hanging around the sheriff's department."
"Really?" she asked, as coldly as she could manage. He looked back at her impassively. "And you were planning on telling me about this when?"
"How about never?" he asked. "She's just a stupid -"
Stupid kid. He hadn't stopped himself in time to keep it from being written all over his face.
Madison was her age. She was about to say as much when Lamb spoke first.
"Are you actually jealous about this, or are you just looking for an excuse to pick a fight?"
She'd forgotten that sometimes he was almost as capable of reading her as she was of reading him.
She looked back at him with all the fury she could manage. "We're already fighting."
"Yeah, we are."
They were almost yelling, too, which probably wasn't a good thing, considering her dad was probably inside. He didn't tend to take very well to guys fighting with her.
That seemed to occur to Lamb, too, because he glanced behind her, and took a deep breath. The muscle in his jaw was working overtime, and there was still anger in his eyes. "Budd Rose didn't kill Hallie."
"Married men don't take too kindly to having their secret affairs revealed," she said. "It's motive."
"It was motive for Aaron Echolls, you mean."
That stung, and Lamb knew it. She sucked in a breath. "This has nothing to do with Lilly."
"Think about it, Veronica," he said. "Don't you think you're getting a little too emotional?"
"And I shouldn't get emotional when one of my friends is dead?" she demanded. "Maybe I should just be like you, and shrug it off. Pretend it never happened."
He looked away, and she knew she'd hit her mark. The victory felt surprisingly empty.
"I want you off this case," he said, and she rolled her eyes.
"You know, you've already -"
"I'm serious," he interrupted her. "I want you off it, for good. I mean it. I want you to tell me you're going to stay the hell away from the case, and then I want you to do it."
He was holding her in place, his fingers not quite digging into her arms, and she had no choice but to look at him. He stared back at her, unblinking, and she wondered what he'd do if she refused.
"Fine," she said, and he released her. "I won't go anywhere near the case, I promise."
He nodded, ever so slightly, and walked away. She waited until he was gone, and then slipped quietly into the house.
All in all, her day could have been better.
Next: Part 6, Part 7