#i really think after calling logan in the writers room she should have kissed casey

[occasional-hobbyist]

Aftermath

[vmheadquarters]

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-One of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @DRiver2u. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.22 from @amypc1​ - tag, you’re it!

—————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE by @DRiver2u

The noise in the room was a low pulse of small groups talking among themselves. The conversations were not enthusiastic or lighthearted, but the former classmates were speaking just to have something to do. Whenever the din let up, someone new took over with a tale from the exploits of high school past. No one wanted to admit that, now they had eaten, there was time to start exploring the mansion for a murderer.

Hovering off to the side, as she so often did in social situations, Veronica's thoughts were exploding as quickly as she felt her ankle swelling. Her injury didn't hurt as much as she thought it should, and she wondered if she was in shock, rather than having an actual physical ailment. She plotted about how to move to another part of the house, so she could test the theories running through her brain. The crowded space in her mind needed an escape, and if she was being honest with herself, it wasn't the only part of her that needed a release.

She caught Logan's eye as he looked up from the drone of Casey's story, and she gave a quick tip of her head towards the direction of the kitchen. "Meet me there," she mouthed from across the room as she pointed with her pinky finger. She assessed her wonky situation and dropped her elevated foot, rolled to her stomach, and one-legged-downward-facing-dog walked herself to a standing position. For a moment, she steadied herself, using one flat foot and the tips of her toes on the other before trying her balance. She hobbled on her bad ankle and made a comment under her breath, just loud enough for the scrum of former classmates in the middle of the room to hear her complain.

"You rang," Logan quipped, as he turned to see her push through the kitchen door. "Or muttered, I guess would be more accurate." He watched as she moved from limping to balancing herself on the kitchen counter, and then doing a half-twisting boost onto the island. The gymnastics of the moves were worthy of more than a participation certificate. Logan studied her as she forced out a sigh and regained her composure. His mind filled with other uses for those skills. "Your powers never cease to amaze."

"I need some ice for my ankle, but I've been thinking, and I might want to reconsider something," Veronica cooed as her finger made its way between her teeth. Before Logan could head towards the freezer, she commanded, "Come closer."

Logan advanced and slid between her dangling legs. Veronica's citrus shampoo, the acid from the tomato ragu, and the yeast from a green bottle of Heineken left near the Belfast sink sent mixed signals to his brain. This wasn't the time or the place, what with the dead bodies, secret passages, and unknown assailants only a few feet from what he hoped would be their suction-cupped bodies, but he couldn't stop the fantasies entering his brain. Veronica stared into his eyes, hoping he would be able to read her mind. The drip of the faucet and the hiss of the radiator under the stained glass windows broke their silence.

As Logan leaned in to kiss the blonde in front of him, he felt the cool thickness of the marble countertop as it hit him just below his waistband. His mouth hovered near her lips, but he turned his head and teased her with the breeze that swept by her mouth. She grabbed the back of his neck demanding to be closer to him, to touch his sweetness. He was stronger than her, and pulled back, watching as her eyes slid shut. As his hands wrapped around her waist and his thumbs pushed into her hips, she let out a small whimper and her breathing quickened.

It was the panting and the moaning that made him pull her closer. He wanted this, she wanted this, but they had made a deal to slow things down this time. He could wait. Could he wait? Anticipation was a hell of an aphrodisiac.

When he finally kissed her, would she taste like roasted garlic, red wine, dried Parmesan cheese, or chocolate mousse? Whatever was left of their dinner would be lost as his mind cleared of all but the softness of her lips. Logan gazed into Veronica's eyes before kissing her wordlessly. Only seconds later, Veronica released her hands from his hair and scrambled to tug his thermal base layer from the waist of his trousers and ran her hands towards his brawny chest, feeling multiple indentations as her fingers spread.

"We need to reconsider that we may have only two days left to live, so three dates seems too long to wait to get naked," she said, at a much higher volume than Logan found desirable. He tilted his head as he tried to shake the noise and vibration out of his eardrum.

"I think you're out of practice on the whispering of sweet nothings," Logan grumbled. "The key to that phrase being 'whispering', sugarpuss."

Veronica reached up and took his face in her hands, then bent the side of his head towards her mouth. "We're being watched, right?" Logan nodded his head and wondered if this new taste for voyeurism would be part of their future escapades. He swallowed at the thought and caught himself breathing harder than only a few seconds ago. Veronica continued her train of thought in his ear. "Let's find out if this is really about us. They're watching, so if they see us, uh you know, all hot and heavy, they may try to break in and stop it."

Logan dropped his head, realizing this was nothing more than part of the game, part of her desire to solve this riddle. "I don't know if I feel like a mark, the bait, or a damsel in distress." He swallowed and took a deep breath.

Veronica kissed him softly and met his eyes. She didn't need words to explain to him that her brain was working overtime. It wasn't desire he had seen in her eyes when they started this rendezvous. But it was passion--just not the kind of passion he was hoping to experience.

"Enid Curtis," Veronica whispered again and gave him a mischievous smile before returning to his ear. "How many people do you know who are named Enid? Not one, I bet. Enid Curtis and Mason. Flip them letters around and what'd ya get? DIES UNROMANTICS." She gave him a quick kiss at his temple, but she wanted to give him a high five.

Logan chuckled before bending his head and raising his eyes to meet hers. "A bit of a grammar cock up, wouldn't you say?" He paused and tilted his head until his mouth met her ear, his hands continued to meander under her shirt. "If you're going to slip down the Enid path, it seems impossible not to bring up Tennyson. You should know to leave the English stuff to me."

Veronica inched away from him and stared at Logan. "So, you think there's a book on one of the shelves by Alfred, Lord Tennyson that'll help solve this riddle?" she asked in a low voice.

"Well, I'm more of a Keats guy myself, but it's tough not to respect a guy who came up with the lines, and I'm paraphrasing here, 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all' and 'Theirs is not to reason why. Theirs is but to do and die'." Logan turned the words over in his mind. Loss and death weren't nearly as appealing to him as Keats' haunting words about beauty, joy, love, and truth.

"Yeah, it's the 'do and die' part that makes me a bit worried," Veronica chided. "And what's that got to do with Enid?"

"I'm saying that Tennyson wrote Idylls of the King. In it is a poem about the perfect love Enid has for her husband." Veronica stared blankly at him before he continued. "He gets jealous, but she stays faithful. He thinks she cheated, but she stays faithful. He treats her like dirt, but she stays faithful. Seeing a pattern?"

"So Enid is perfect?" Veronica asked with a sly smile.

"It used to be a real compliment for a woman to be referred to as an 'Enid'," Logan remembered from a group project about Victorian poets. Who knew those trivialities might one day prove to be important?

Logan continued after a small pause, clearing his throat. "Oh, and Tennyson influenced the Pre-Raphaelite artists with his sumptuous verses. God, they painted some majestic stuff. Dead women, lots of flowing hair, unrequited love. Come to think of it, one was even of Enid, I think." He smiled at the idea of his mother and said, "First ones I saw were at Andrew Lloyd Webber's estate, because my mom dragged me there when she was desperate to get a part in a possible West End Cats revival."

"Keats, Tennyson, and Raffi," Veronica scrambled, only half listening to the other voice in the room. "I don't see the connection. Unless someone thinks I'm the perfect mate?" Veronica's mind danced with the knowledge that she may have an admirer rather than a stalker. She heard Logan snicker and watched as he shook his head.

"Raphaelites, bobcat, but who am I to doubt the perfect bit," he mocked with a chuckle. "Maybe Enid and Tennyson mean nothing. Maybe you were on the right track with the scrambled letters. Or maybe this mysterious host is telling you to ask others for help with this riddle. 'There's no I in team', 'It takes teamwork to make the dream work', 'Collaborate before we evaporate'. Etcetera, etcetera."

Veronica squinted at him, but only grunted out a, "Huh?"

"OK, maybe I made some of those up," Logan laughed. "But we're all here for a reason, and I don't think it's just to be dead bodies, cute faces, or red herrings." They both stayed quiet a moment and realized their musings had blown their cover. Their so-called tryst had turned into a book club.

"Ice," Veronica directed, and Logan grabbed the hand towel near the stove as he sauntered towards the industrial-sized refrigerator. "But now what?"

"Lead on, perfect Enid," he quipped. He took a deep breath as he felt Veronica going back into her brain. "OK. If you want to stick with rearranging letters, we can do that, but I prefer NUDES IS ROMANTIC."

[vmheadquarters]

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 of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @beezlebobble​​. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.21 from @DRiver2u - tag, you’re it!

—————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER TWENTY by @beezlebobble​ a/k/a orionseyes

“Wallace!” Veronica exclaimed as she hobbled as quickly as possible, clutching Logan’s arm. Logan dropped her hand as he raced over to the staircase to bend down and check Wallace’s pulse. As Veronica finally neared, he helped her clumsily and painfully crouch down to check on any other injuries Wallace might have. The rest of the group huddled around a very still Wallace.

“He’s alive! But we’ll have to wait to find out if he’s broken anything. I don’t see signs of broken bones, but he must have hit his head and back pretty hard coming down that slide.”

“Looks like a wild ride. Wallace was Slip, Sliding, Away…Slip, Sliding, Away…” Dick crooned as Veronica reached out and smacked his nearest limb hard, which happened to be his leg.

And slide it was. What had been previously a normal, albeit ornately fussy, wood-paneled staircase, was now a long, slick, wooden slide. The steps had collapsed like a funhouse trick and Wallace had been taken completely by surprise.

“Dick, how can you?! Someone’s trying to kill us! And I might be next. They know I’m wearing my Louboutins and I can’t outrun them or walk in the snow! Anyway, they would get totally ruined. Oh God, I almost went upstairs to get something out of my bag, that could have been me! Walter’s unconscious, but I might have been killed!” Gia wailed as she turned and cast herself dramatically into a nearby Luke’s arms. He patted her back ineffectually while Susan and Carrie simultaneously rolled their eyes. They caught each other and started to giggle. Alexis sighed and clutched arms around her middle as she looked down on Wallace’s still form. Duncan and Cole hovered behind Susan and Carrie with concerned looks on their faces.

“For the last time you idiots, his name is Wallace! Veronica shouted. She glanced around the room and rubbed her chin, “This seemingly-luxurious mansion appears to have a ridiculous number of secret rooms and hidden mechanisms, like it was built for the stage or as a movie set. I think we need to figure out what exactly this house is, who owns it, and see if anyone can recall its history.” Veronica had that steely, intent investigator’s look in her eye that made Logan equal parts impressed and aroused. He reached out and pushed a wild lock of hair that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear.

“Baby, this is why I love you. There isn’t a challenge you won’t face.” He stood up briskly and brushed his hands on his jeans. He then reached out a warm hand to help her rise to her shaky feet.

She gladly took it. It was a solid comfort and she realized that she looked forward to Logan actually being her partner in the future. “At some point, sweetheart, you’re going to have to find me something I can use as a cane. I’m not built for resting. Us Mars’ are hardy, peasant stock, not made for swanning on some low-slung couch like Gloria Swanson. Girls like me gotta give birth in the cornfields and get back to milking the cattle, you know.”

Logan grinned and bent down to sweep her off her feet. “Honey, you need to sit still for at least fifteen minutes while we gather our collective wits and sort this out. Let Daddy Logan make you nice and comfortable.” He carried her carefully back to the living area and deposited her on the plush, heavily upholstered sofa which had been moved aside for the mattresses.

“Hey Casey, you and Dick grab Wallace and move him out here. Lay him out on the mattress by the dining table and we’ll get to business,” Logan directed as he grabbed a blanket to lay over Veronica’s lap. “Wait here a second.” He got up and left the room. A minute later he returned hoisting a leather tufted ottoman that had been in the library.

“In case you want to move around and keep that foot elevated.” Veronica cupped his face and gave him a quick, tender kiss. She’d missed how much he was always taking care of her.

“OK, everyone, gather round! Mother Goose has some stories for you kiddies. First, let’s figure out this house situation. Has anyone heard of this house, been at this house, or known anyone else who has? You’re all Richie Riches, surely, some of you must have visited or heard something.”

“I have never heard of this place, and please don’t call me Shirley,” Dick piped up. Logan reached over and slapped him on the side of his head. “Ow, man, why did you smack me so hard?”

“Shut up and quit fooling around, Dick. There’s at least one dead man and multiple attempts on other people’s lives and you have to keep acting like a fucking donkey.”

Dick grumbled and plopped himself down on one of the mattresses. Everyone else had seated themselves around in a circle.

“My dad used to sail out this way sometimes, but I don’t think he landed on the island or knew the owners. I think I remember something about it being a hotel or inn?” Casey suggested.

“No, I don’t think it was a hotel. There are no exit signs, or a front desk, or a lobby. It doesn’t have that institutional, sterile feel.  It feels like someone’s not-so-welcoming home,” Carrie stated. “I’m not sure if I could live here, but it looks like someone did. This island is not exactly inviting.”

“I think you’re right, but I guess it was long shot to think that any of us Southern Californians would have an idea about this place. If only we could boot up Mac’s computer or someone’s phone and try to find more info about this place.” Veronica mulled this over while she stroked the arm of the couch as she leaned back.

“If it helps, I was told that this place had been used for murder mysteries for a really long time. Like, maybe decades? That should help narrow down any search,” Mac offered.

“Did Jen know anything?” Veronica asked her.

“Maybe.” Mac shrugged. “She seemed like she had been doing this for a while, and that the house itself served that purpose for a lot of groups.”

“OK. First, we have to find Jen. For information and probably for her own safety. She might be in cahoots with the killer, or he might have already gotten to her. Regardless, she has info that we need. Second, we are partnering up if we need to leave this room, but otherwise staying put. I don’t think any of you are in cahoots with the killer, mainly because some of you are just not that clever.  So that means, everyone keeps an eye on each other. We are all going to leave this island alive. Even Dick.” Dick glanced over and pointed both his pointer fingers at himself as if to say, who, me?

“We know that our suspect is a large male. He managed to drag Leo’s body in the snow to the stable. He tossed me off the balcony like a ragdoll. But it’s entirely possible that he’s just the muscle because the mastermind behind this must be our hostess!” Everyone in the circle nodded in agreement and Alexis shivered.

“The other thing we are going to do is figure out how many hidden rooms, cubbies, compartments are in this place. That means going room by room, tapping walls and pushing unusual looking panels, knots in the wood, carvings, knobs, handles, sconces, books in bookcases, and lifting statue-like things. You’ve all seen it in the movies, so use some of those as guides. I have a feeling our mastermind can’t resist watching us and is hiding somewhere in the recesses of this large, weird house.”

Logan leaned over and threw his arms around her. “My girlfriend is so smart and sexy. You all listen up.  There’s no way we’re getting out without Veronica’s help.”

“Your girlfriend, huh?”

“Yup.” Logan popped his mouth to say. “The smartest, sexiest, peskiest girlfriend a lucky goofball like me could have.” He hugged her to him and kissed her firmly on her head.

“Unnnhhhh.” Everyone turned sharply around as Wallace moaned. He groaned again as he slowly sat up while clutching his head. “Oww, my head. Did the Hulk club me or something?”

Logan rushed over as Veronica looked gratefully at him. They truly were going to be a team and it made her heart almost burst to see him showing care for one of the most important people in her life.

“Now, Wallace, you need to be careful.  I think you bumped your noggin pretty hard as you came sliding down.”

“Ugh, now I remember! I took the first step and the stairs just disappeared, and that was it.”

“OK, Wallace, you need to lay back down, you might have a concussion.” Logan tenderly helped Wallace lay prone as he gazed up at Logan with a bemused expression.

“Look at you, helping me. Veronica would be so proud.” He sighed and laid back as Logan covered him a soft, camel-colored throw.

“I am proud.” Veronica called out with a huge smile on her face, showing all the affection she felt for him. Logan turned towards her and grinned back. It felt so good to be in tune with each other. They were going to grow together and face whatever the fates would bring.

“I can’t stand it anymore!” Dick cried as he rushed past Casey and pushed him into Cole, who raced after him. He grabbed both handrails and yanked himself to the top of the landing. There was a cry from the next room.

“Yee-haw!” There were some squeaks and then a low rumble as Dick rolled from the base of the stairs into the living area and rose with a flourish. “Ta-da!”  Casey took one look at him and took off for the stairs. The next few minutes were chock-full of sound of a flurry of idiots and donkeys racing up the slope that remained of the stairs and hurling themselves down.

“I’m hungry.” Gia whined. “I don’t want pop-tarts for dinner. I’ll just die if I don’t eat anything. My doctor says I’m anemic and should forage at least every two hours. I wonder if there’s anything paleo in this god-forsaken dump?”

“Right, we’re all hungry, but the food is being guarded by Madison's corpse. Do you really want to eat that?” Logan asked, looking around at the glum faces.

Dick chimed in. “I don’t care; if no one else does, we should go for it. Logan cooks a mean pasta. I mean, my doctor says I’m a growing boy and I gotta forage every hour.”

“But pasta is carbs!” Gia complained.

“Gia, god help me, just shut up for once. I think pasta is a safe bet and there’s probably enough down there to feed all of us.” Logan got up and pointed at Cole and Duncan. “You and you are coming with me. I’ll go into the pantry, grab supplies, and pass them to you. We all have to keep up our strength for what lies ahead.”

The three of them headed down to the basement as Veronica leaned back and sighed. This was not going to be easy. Her injury was going to make everything so much harder and really put her at a disadvantage against her two or possibly more hidden foes.

In her hideout, Della watched the screen closely and focused on Veronica. She did not trust that girl. She was always kind of skeevy. Look at the way she ordered Logan around. And he was literally waiting on her hand and foot. It really was disgusting. She would never make Logan do that. She would worship him, and cuddle him, and stroke his hair, and then make delicious pasta meals for him. Pasta, wait? That gave her an idea. She couldn’t do anything to what they were currently going to eat, but she could sneak down there after and prime some of their future meals. Hmm. This was going to be lots of fun. She had the perfect stuff to spike their food.  She walked over to the small desk in the room and pulled on its only drawer. Inside was a bottle of just what the doctor ordered.

[vmheadquarters]

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 Nine of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @vmsteenbeans​​. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.10 from @loveobsessed2​  -tag, you’re it!

———————————————————————————————————–CHAPTER NINE by @vmsteenbeans​ 

Logan, Duncan and Veronica rushed out into the great room to investigate the crash, stopping short when they discovered the massive chandelier lying before them. The weight of the light fixture had cracked all of the tiles in the center of the room, and fine particles of marble still hung in the air.

Veronica covered her nose and mouth with the crook of her arm, squinting at the scene in front of her.  As the dust began to settle, she saw hundreds of tiny crystals scattered across the floor, sparkling in the firelight.  Those still attached to the chandelier swung gently back and forth, creating a cheerful tinkling sound at odds with the destruction before her.

She glanced over at Logan, whose eyes were already upon her.  They shared a look, and Logan nodded – he knew what came next.  They needed to make sure that there were no bodies crushed beneath the chandelier.

Just as they’d both begun to move forward, two things happened at once.  The other party guests came rushing downstairs, pausing at the bottom of the stairway, and Veronica heard a cough.  The weird thing was, it had come from above her.

She tilted her head back.  Wallace stared down at her through the brand new hole in the ceiling, looking just as shell-shocked as she felt.

“Veronica!  Is everyone okay?”

“Wallace?” she called back.  “What the…?”

“The floor gave way,” he explained.  “And you and I have a lot to talk about.  We’re coming down now.”

He disappeared, and her gaze returned to the chandelier.  Logan was crouched down beside it, inspecting the floor around it carefully.  He stood up and walked back over to Veronica, taking her hand in his.  “All clear,” he assured her.  “No one was hurt.”

Veronica exhaled, some of the tension leaving her body. “Well that’s one thing that’s gone right today.”  He squeezed her hand, and she smiled.  “Actually, that’s two things.”

Logan opened his mouth to reply.  Before he got the chance, Wallace and Casey came jogging down the stairs.  They pushed the others aside, making their way over to Veronica.

“Dude,” Casey said, looking rather exhilarated. “There’s a secret passageway in your room.”

“Are you kidding me?” Veronica replied.  She glanced over at Wallace, who didn’t appear nearly as excited about this new piece of information.

“It’s true,” he confirmed.  “And there’s more.”

***

“So what does this mean?” Gia asked.  “Are people, like, voyeuring us?”

They were all gathered in the living room again. Everyone had naturally gravitated towards the light and warmth of the fire, with the exception of Dick, who was back to playing bartender.

Veronica watched him from her spot on the loveseat, as he poured Godiva liqueur into a metal shaker.  She wondered, once again, where he’d disappeared to earlier.  Although in the scheme of things, we have much bigger problems to deal with.

She turned her attention back to Gia.  “I think we have to assume that, yeah,” she confirmed.  “More importantly, this means that none of us is actually safe in our rooms.  Even when the doors are locked.”

Veronica watched as the other guests digested that news. Everyone looked suitably uncomfortable at the thought, especially Logan.  He was seated beside her, brow furrowed and jaw tight, as he swept his gaze across the room.

Despite the seven months, nine days and- she glanced at her watch- twelve hours since she’d seen him last, Veronica knew Logan well enough to understand where his head was at.  It wasn’t his own safety he was worried about.  It was hers.

And although his protectiveness had once enraged her, she now found it… endearing.  She nestled herself closer, entwining her fingers in his.  Logan snaked his arm around her waist and dropped a kiss on her forehead, sighing into her hair.

“So what do we do?” Carrie asked.

“Block the passageways?” Luke suggested.

“Have someone stand guard in the secret tunnel?” Alexis spoke up.

Wallace stared at them in disbelief.  “Um, does no one else here remember the chandelier that just came crashing to the ground?  That tunnel doesn’t exactly meet OSHA safety standards.”

“Who’s Osha?” Kimmy asked.

Everyone ignored her, and Dick made his way from out behind the bar.  “Or there’s the obvious solution,” he replied, holding up his chocolate martini. “All nighter!”

“Yeah, Dick,” Susan replied dryly.  “That makes total sense.  We’ll all just get wasted while someone sneaks around, picking us off one by one.”

There was silence, and then all eyes landed on Veronica.

“Oh, now you want my help?” she asked.

Gia shrugged.  “Murder and stuff is like, your hobby.  Right?”

Veronica sighed heavily.  “Sure.”  She thought for a minute, considering her mantra from earlier in the day.  Contact authorities.  Stick together.  Preserve the evidence…  Well, one out of three ain’t bad.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Dick has the right idea,” Veronica began.

“Rager!” he called out.

Veronica rolled her eyes.  “No.  But I think we should all stay in this room, together.  We’ve got plenty of wood to keep that fire going all night. Whoever’s tired can sleep on the couches and chairs, or we can even bring some mattresses and blankets down here. And at least two people need to stay awake at all times, to stand guard.”

After some dissention, everyone finally agreed to the plan.  Casey, Norris, Duncan and Luke went upstairs to start bringing down the mattresses, while the others began moving furniture around to make more room.

Veronica and Logan got up from the love seat.  He started to move forward, to help out, but she grabbed hold of his arm.  She tugged gently, pulling him towards the deserted great room.  Once they’d crossed the threshold, she turned to face him.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I know sticking together is the right call,” she said softly, “but it feels like we’re being herded.”

Logan nodded.  “I’ve been thinking the same thing.  Like someone is… toying with us.”

“Exactly.”  Veronica chewed at her lower lip while she tried to figure out her next step. “Something’s been bothering me.”

Logan raised his brow.  “Just the one thing?”

“When Wallace and I got here, the storm was starting to get worse.  The captain told us he was going to stay in the caretaker’s cottage.  But when we were over there earlier, there was no sign of him.  Where is he?”

“That’s… a really good question.  Are there any other buildings on the island?  Maybe a guest house?”

“Maybe.  And another thing,” she went on.  “When we found out that Duncan and Norris’s deaths were faked, Norris said something to Jen.  Something like, ‘I thought we were the only ones today.’”

Logan nodded slowly.  “Meaning there were other fake murders planned for tomorrow and Sunday. So who else was supposed to fake-die?”

“Right.  And where are they?”  Veronica gestured around them.  “I mean, the jig is officially up.  The murder mystery is supposed to be over.  So, why weren’t those people told?  Why aren’t they here, with the rest of us?”

“Looks like Jen the party guide is still holding out on us.”

“Yeah.  It looks exactly like that.”  She paused. “And there’s something else.”

Logan smiled at her fondly.  “It’s never just one thing, with you.”

“Once I get going, it’s hard to stop.”

“Mmm,” he replied, bending down and kissing her on the lips.  “I recall.”

Veronica closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss, allowing herself to escape their present reality for just a moment.  This wasn’t the first time Logan had been her port in a storm, but it was the first time it had been quite this literal.

It was Logan who pulled away first, although the satisfied smile on his lips assured her he’d be more than happy to continue.  “You were saying?” he prompted.

Veronica blinked, trying to focus.  The one time she really and truly wanted to put her relationship with Logan first, she was stuck on a remote island during a blizzard, trapped in a mansion with some murdering psycho who was trying to kill her and everyone else with her.  So typical.

She cleared her throat.  “Right,” she began.  “My next question: why this specific group of people?”

“Haven’t we gone over this already?” he asked. “Or are you saying that you have a theory?”

“Well… I did think of one thing,” she admitted. “Meg.”

“Meg what?

“I don’t know.  Cole and Duncan used to date her.  Kimmy used to want to be her. She and Alexis were on the cheerleading squad together, she used to tutor Norris, and the rest of us were friends with her.  Even Leo knew her.”

“True,” he said slowly.  “But what about Wallace?”

“We’ve already established that he doesn’t seem to fit the pattern.  Except as a way to lure me here.”

“Okay, so what are you thinking?  She’s back from the dead, trying to kill us all zombie-style?”

Veronica gave him a withering look.  “No.  I’m just trying to find a common denominator, and that’s something I landed on.”

Logan didn’t look convinced.  “Yeah, but name any 09er and…”  He trailed off, his expression changing as his eyes skimmed the walls.  “Hey, do you still have that flashlight handy?”

Veronica nodded, producing the mini-Maglite from her back pocket and handing it to him.  “What’s up?”

“Well,” he replied.  “I used to have this girlfriend who made me watch a lot of period dramas.”  He cast a teasing smile in her direction, before turning the flashlight on and taking her hand.  “Jane Eyre, Gosford Park, Dangerous Liaisons…”

“I believe that last one was your pick.”

“I do have a weakness for Michelle Pfeiffer,” he said.  “Although she’s not my favorite blonde.”  Logan cast a cheeky look at Veronica, before leading her towards the kitchen.  “Anyway, if I remember correctly, the servant’s quarters were kept hidden in those grand houses of old.”

Finally catching on to what he had in mind, Veronica felt anticipation coursing through her.  “And we already know there’s one secret passageway in this house…”

“Exactly.”

Logan kept walking, flashlight pointed at the walls. He moved it down and across slowly, looking for any obvious cracks or crevices in the molding.  Spotting something, Veronica let go of his hand and stepped forward.  It was tiny, but there was a small bump in the molding.  She pressed it.

The entire panel swung forward, revealing the entrance to the servant’s quarters.  And seated at the small wooden table in front of them, munching on potato chips and staring at her laptop, was Mac.

[vmheadquarters]

We’re going to play a game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors will take turns telling this story. Each writer will craft a chapter (with no prior planning) and then “toss” 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 Five of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @absolutelyiris​.  And stayed tuned next week for Ch.6 from @carla545​  -tag, you’re it! ———————————————————————————————————– CHAPTER FIVE by @absolutelyiris​

It was odd, yet utterly typical, how, if you stayed in Neptune for a certain amount of time, all normal human responses to murder seemed to drift away. Instead of a shaken, or even hysterical, shock, there was just a simple nonchalance after the initial surprise. Maybe it was just how it worked in Neptune- if you've seen one body, you've seen them all.

Veronica watched everyone drink and chat and wander around the dining area around her, acting as if there wasn’t a frozen corpse outside, acting as if there weren't a killer among them, acting as if everything was normal and life was a party.

Life went on. Even for her. She was busy thinking about Logan and the potential for a new start with them. A To Be Continued. Or a To Be Determined. She was too busy having her mind pulled in different directions, her rational thought being interrupted by her heart and other parts. She supposed she was a hypocrite judging anyone for their self-preservation choices when she had just been kissing her ex-current-boyfriend-fling-soulmate. Her ex-current-boyfriend-fling-soulmate who now silently stood next to her, drinking a beer and watching everyone like a doberman. Her ex-current-boyfriend-fling-soulmate who was just like her, who knew everyone was a suspect, all the time.

Veronica glanced up at Logan, comforted when he immediately met her gaze. They were always connected in that way, for better or worse, always having that understanding of what the other needed. She didn't need a hug but she needed his warmth. His silent strength. What he gave her was a wink and a tight smile, which she returned halfheartedly.

"What's going on in there?" he murmured.

"Worried," she said softly. "Tired. A little scared."

"What, Murder Kegger isn't doing it for you?"

She could even bring herself to smirk, instead letting out a sigh. "I mean, we're just going to drink until we pass out?"

Logan's brow furrowed. "There are other options?"

Time to take charge.

Veronica stepped forward, inhaling deeply. "Hey! Hello!" She paused as a nice chunk of the less-than-friendly room stared at her. "It's getting late. We should all get some sleep."

Carrie scoffed, shaking her head. "Not happening, there's a killer loose."

"That's why you'll be locking your doors," Veronica said tersely. "Or pairing up and locking your doors."

The crowd seemed less than impressed by her suggestion and she laughed, exasperated. "Well, what's the alternative? Stay up for two days until this storm stops? We all need to rest and keep our strength up. Tomorrow we're going to haul ass out of here. In the sunlight and not the dark woods where Jason is running around with his machete. Deal?"

Gia rolled her eyes. "Veronica does have a point."

"We can block our doors if we need to," Wallace suggested.

"Yeah?" Casey replied. "What if someone dies overnight?"

Veronica turned towards the hall, shaking her head. "Then they should have locked their door," she muttered.

 * * *

The knock was quick and sharp, making Veronica jump. She froze, lowering the character card she was inspecting, and waited.

Another knock, and she slowly slid off the bed, reaching for her taser on the side table. "Yes?" She called.

"Veronica, it's me."

Veronica inhaled at the sound of Logan's muffled voice, setting down her weapon and dashing to the door. She unlocked it quickly, unable to hide neither her smile nor the confusion on her face. "Hey!"

"Hey, can I come in?"

She stepped aside, allowing Logan access before locking the door again. "Here for a nightcap?"

Logan shook his head. "Can't sleep," he looked over Veronica's head at her bed, sheets undisturbed. "I guess you can't either?"

Veronica gave him a wry smile. "Detecting never stops."

He took a seat on her bed, picking up the character card. "I was thinking. Maybe it's not about you. Or us. At least, not personally."

She crossed her arms, shaking her head. "What do you mean?"

"The murder mystery, the too-personal cards, this place…" Logan trailed off. "Maybe it's about creating the best narrative," he leaned forward. "I was trying to think about what the hell could be going on and we might as well be puppets, right? Whoever is doing this has all of us right where they want us, ready to move us at will."

Veronica's eyes narrowed. "Murder us at will?"

"Until they're the only survivor and they're the story," Logan jumped to his feet. "Or maybe they just really had a grudge against the deputy, what do I know?"

She frowned. "So you think we were all summoned here to die."

"Or this is the worst party I've been to and I've been to parties where my dad got stabbed and I've been arrested."

"We know how to party in Neptune," Veronica said dryly, walking over to the glass doors. "It's really coming down," she said softly, unlocking them. She stepped out on the balcony, watching the snow flutter down in the dark. Her gaze lowered as she felt Logan's presence behind her. "This would be really romantic if not for the murder."

Logan smiled against her hair before leaving a kiss on the top of her head. "I think I'll take that nightcap. Want one?"

"Yeah."

He nodded, stepping back inside. "Romantic murder interlude t.b.c."

Logan walked to the minibar, crouching down and observing its contents. Water, peanuts, crackers, and mini-bottles of booze. That'll do.

Picking up two rums, he straightened up. He froze at the sudden noise outside the room door, a muffled whispering. No, crying?

A frown settled on Logan's face as he moved to the door.

Veronica leaned against the balcony railing, staring out at the view. It really was beautiful...if not for the murder.

She smiled at the footsteps getting closer. "What poisons did you scrounge up?"

Veronica gasped as she was pushed over the balcony.