The next night -- Sunday -- Duncan answers the Presidential Door wearing a black turtleneck, and Veronica makes fun of him: "No ski mask?" He protests that she told him to wear dark colors, and she draws the line between breaking and entering your ex-girlfriend's house on a Sunday night and "breaking into a vault in a James Bond movie." Duncan snurfles, "I don't do this every day," and I fucking miss Wallace. Veronica says that she prefers, altogether, private investigating to babysitting, and mentions that it's a "sad state of affairs" when you can't actually tell "which kid's being locked in the closet," even after several hours of observation, because "all the families are equally cuckoo." And you know she says "cuckoo" in the cutest way imaginable. Then they laugh the laugh of cruel irony coming toward them in a Mack truck because the whole "Trapped In The Closet" deal was just a light and frivolous off-tossed line, right? Right? Logan enters ("Poetry reading?") and then asks Duncan in a caring tone whether Kendall was "bugging" him yesterday. With a light negative response, Duncan's done with the subject, and not really in a guilty way -- but then, that's why Duncan's kind of scary sometimes. "Good, good," Logan continues, "Because, uh, when I saw she was in your room for a little while, I got nervous. I know how she likes to talk a guy's ear off." See, he doesn't really mean "talk" or "ear" there. Or really "likes," come to think of it. "She was just asking for my help with something," Duncan says -- again quite breezily -- but it's worth noting that this is pretty much exactly what Veronica said when Duncan caught her and Duncan coming out of the loo earlier, so, again, we don't actually know anything. I don't want Veronica to be sad, and I don't want her to end up with Logan, really, but I do want Duncan at some point to do something that makes you go, "Oh, snap."
Veronica and Turtleneck head over to Meg's house, where Duncan overexplains about how there's a key under the flowerpot, in a very Lost-exposition kind of way. They head up the stairs, just a-clompin' and a-bangin' like they're not totally committing the kind of crime where if the people shoot you they are in the right, and once inside, Veronica notes the total weirdness of being in Meg's room while she's comatose. Sweetly and subtly, Duncan adjusts Meg's teddy bear on the bed, and then -- exclamatorily and with much patter -- goes to her A/C vent. "Giving away Lilly's trade secrets?" asks Veronica, and Duncan (again with the too-much-talking disease) explains that Lilly actually got the vent trick from Logan, and anyway he represented it to Meg as his own invention. I guess you can't just go ahead and have eighteen different people with the same rather unlikely trick happening, so I don't mind the exposition salad there. He pulls down an old-school composition notebook, with the mottled black cover, and something secret and mysterious, which he hides on his person.