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Where my geeks at? Logan thought to himself as he looked over his Livejournal friend's list. The fans who used to use Eljay as it was called were moving to sites like Tumblr, and Facebook. Tumblr he couldn't get into, and people  tended not to add fandom friends to Facebook.


He was staying in a swank hotel,  the taste of Patron, and wasabi still in his mouth after the opening party for Mars Investigations Santa Monica. He was proud that despite the fact that he currently wasn't on speaking terms with Veronica, Keith Mars still let him work at and help develop Mars Investigations from a small filthy office, to the premiere private investigation service in Southern California.

Because of the Patron he couldn't drive back to Neptune so he took a hotel room for the night.  Despite his recent success, the evening had brought nothing but disappointment, the girls he had invited back with him bolted upon Dick Cassablancas' text about a charter flight to Aspen. 


Out of boredom, he decided to log into the old website using the screen name  AaronEcholasFreak04on a whim.

 


Almost ten years ago Veronica had helped him created an online identity or three to keep track of his father's fans. He needed to know who was going to be coming to town in order to stalk him or his friends after an incident involving his father and crazy stalker waitress at his family's Christmas party. The best way to find out was to have an active fake identity among his father's fan communities.  But over the years, through his fake geeky persona, he had grown to care about most of those people, who he ordinarily would not care about, and frankly would probably make fun of.

 

The only update he saw tonight was from Laura.  The past few years had not been kind to her. Her journal chronicled the loss of her mother from cancer, then the loss of her father from suicide. She attempted to get her life back in order by working at a local coffee shop, but things were complicated after a patron began stalking and harassing her.   Her fangirling had moved onto a local Santa Barbara radio host, Crock Daniels, who had recently been murdered  He read her journal:

 

 
[May. 5th, 2013|12:03 am] I'm being accused of murder, I swear I didn't do it! I loved him, and I do have a stalker. The Police Psychic said my stalker isn't real, and that I am my stalker, I've been taking my meds, I've been good. I swear Bob is real. I am not my own stalker.  I told them about Bob but they wouldn't believe me, they just thought I did it! The detectives, and their Psychic consultant.
 
Mood: Depressed
 
 
 
[May. 6th, 2013|2:03 am] They caught him, but people still think it was me. I have nothing to look forward to in life, no one believes me because I am crazy.
 

 

 

Upon reading the entry Logan threw his iPad air across the room. It wasn't difficult to figure out who the "psychic," responsible for her mental anguish was, fucking Shawn Spencer, of Psych Investigations. Shawn was the Santa Barbara Police Department's  golden boy and  Logan couldn't stand attention the guy was getting. The fact that he managed to get any votes and support during the recent mayoral election in Santa Barbara angered Logan enough. Even worse was that the Santa Barbara Police Department seemed to love him. and his quack, unlicensed ways. Having someone like that around certainly made things easier for them. Who needs search warrants, police procedure, and all the formalities of an investigation when you could just say "our psychic had a vision"?

 And what were the rules for Psychic consultants going along with detectives?  Were they allowed to walk into someone's home without a warrant? Look through their medication and accuse them of murder? While not much that was positive could be said about the Balboa County Sheriff's department, from what he could see, the Santa Barbara Police department seemed worse.

There was nothing that angered him more than a friend in a difficult situation being accused of a murder they didn't commit. To add insult to injury, the one doing the accusing being a pompous, narcissistic, asshole with zero credentials. 




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