A/N: I made a certain promise to a couple of reviewers (wink, wink, you know who you are) that this chapter would be up by sometime today. My work could be so much better if you didn't push me so! Haha, probably not true. Mediocre at best here. At least I like it. I hope you enjoy what you are about to read. Heavy on Dick's mystery, with some of Madison's here.

A/N: My computer is frustrating me this morning. My mouse is refusing to move around my screen, and therefore...usually I send little notes to my reviewers that I have posted the next chapter. I give up this morning. Not happening, because I would rather not throw my only source of outside life out my front window. So, with that in mind...this is your note, everyone. I am thinking of you and thankful for all your words of appreciation and encouragement. Maybe tomorrow I can send personal notes...if this is the worst Friday the 13th gives me, I'll take it.

Chapter 12

As they left the Tennison's home, Veronica looked back at it and thought: that is not a house, that is a mansion. She had become used to people flaunting their money in Neptune, but this house was even more over the top than what she remembered of her years with 09ers. It was twice the size of Logan's family home growing up. Thinking fleetingly of that house made her think longingly of Logan, wishing she could email him more often, as promised. She had sent him a brief email the day before, but nothing since his wonderful package had come, and she wanted his inbox full when he was finally able to access it that next week.

Driving now past the guard gate, Keith waved at the guard posted there and asked Veronica, "So, what do you think?"

They had ended up sharing most of their case with the Tennison's, who were in slight denial that their youngest son was the culprit of the missing money from ThinSlimNow. While they agreed that Mark wasn't the most business-oriented of people and that, yes, Alex Jr. was buying his brother out of The Ten, they still were not convinced that he would commit fraud against a family company. But as the Mars' showcased all they had found, their defensiveness had turned to speechlessness.

Veronica had been pretty adamant that MI be given full access and liberty to find out what Mark would want at The Ten. They had agreed. Keith was going to head to The Ten first thing in the morning to meet with their accountant to go over numbers and make sure everything was as it should be. The Tennison's didn't seem to know a lot about The Ten's financial state, admitting that their oldest son had pretty much completely taken over the gym, while the two of them were more focused with ThinSlimNow. They asked to give them until the morning to get the clearance they needed from Alex Jr. before sending Keith over, and he had agreed.

The other thing that Keith had acquired was a key and directions to their family cabin in Utah. The Tennison's claimed that there was no way that Mark would ever choose to go there because it was much too rustic compared to the ease of living he was used to. Although there was a hired service that came once in May to clean and prepare the cabin for summer use, it required a lot of other manual labor to enjoy it. Both Keith and Veronica thought that was exactly why Mark might choose it: completely obscure and off the radar. They figured they might be going on a family trip to the mountains at some point soon.

Veronica sighed, realizing what her next step needed to be. "I think that I need to talk to the Sinclair's." She pulled up to a stop light. "I need to talk to Mac about going with me to see them, hopefully in the morning. That means Dick will have to either stay with you or go with us…." She flipped her blinker, changing lanes and heading toward the office, "And I'm thinking he'll go with us, since you will be at The Ten." Quickly glancing at Keith to see if he was listening, she continued, "And we need to look into getting tickets up to Salt Lake, I guess. Mac was supposed to look into that email Madison apparently sent to The Ten but I somehow doubt she got to that today. We might have to work into the night."

Keith nodded. "We're closing in on 'em, honey, I can feel it. We just need to find out a few more things, but I'm positive they're at that cabin."

The hospital emergency room seemed no different than it had on Friday morning. Mac had immediately sat down in the waiting room while Dick went to sweet talk his way into the back but had come to sit beside her when he was told that Dr. Morris was in with another patient. She scrolled through the pictures of the people on the panel, slowly wending her way through each of the bios, feeling like she was missing something, frustrated because there didn't seem to be anything to find within all the names.

"Hey, Dick, do you recognize any of these guys? There are eight men to the four women on the panel; I figure that maybe you might recognize them? Or maybe their names are familiar? Nothing is popping out at me." She handed him her phone and he scrolled slowly through it, pausing to examine each picture he came to.

Shaking his head, Dick handed it back after he had gone through it. "I'm sorry, I don't really. I mean, they look familiar, all of them, but I did my presentation last week in front of all these guys. I didn't know any of them personally."

"Richard Casablancas?" A female nurse came out, motioning him back to an exam room. Together, they stood and followed her. Entering the exam room, Mac stayed quiet and leaned against the wall while the nurse took Dick's vitals. She promised the doctor would be in within five minutes and left.

It was much less than five minutes later when the doctor came in. He had Dick's chart and seemed glad to see him. Examining him, Dr. Morris asked quite a few questions about how Dick was feeling. He set to the job of removing the stitches, and while doing so, opened the questions up for Dick to ask.

Mac stepped away from the wall then, to make her presence more obvious and Dick nodded to her to ask whatever she wanted to know. Taking the initiative, she queried, "You were the admitting doctor, right?" With his nod, she continued, "Can I ask about how Dick's state when the EMTs brought him in?"

Dr. Morris, still concentrating on his task, didn't look at Mac when he answered, "His face was covered in blood from this injury here and, well…he didn't look well. He was in and out of consciousness, rambling when he was awake…he had vomited at some point before the call was made, and he had vomited on the way to the hospital…I would say his state was not good at the time he arrived here early Friday morning."

"So it was apparent that he had been drinking heavily?"

Swiveling on his stool, the Doctor turned to look at Mac. "The signs were there, yes."

Trying a different tack, Mac asked, "What are common signs of alcohol withdrawal?"

Dr. Morris turned back to his patient. "Headache, nausea, irritability…mood swings. Mild anxiety, shakiness…there are multiple signs. Not everyone exhibits the same marks, however. One person could have all of them, another just one or two."

"How long does it last?"

"It varies depending on the person; again, no one is quite the same."

"All right, that's a fair statement. What is your opinion when someone isn't exhibiting any signs?"

The doctor set his scissors down, slowly and deliberately, keeping his eye trained on the tool as he arranged it perfectly on the tray. He cleared his throat. "Well, it's possible that the person had already gone through the withdrawal. With some, it can take only a few hours, with others, it can take months, even up to a year."

"Can I ask why you were so adamant that Dick have supervision during these next two weeks?"

Uncomfortable, the doctor pushed his glasses up in thought. "Well, miss, I think that was a judgment call."

"I'm sure it was, sir, but I really am interested at what made you decide that?" Deciding to play her trump, she extracted her business card and handed it to him. "Mr. Casablancas here has hired my agency to look into the incident that occurred Thursday night and asked me to accompany him today to talk with your staff. Any information that you have is imperative that you share it with us. We believe that he was drugged that night and left for dead."

She added the last bit about being dead for shock value, but the doctor didn't seem shocked by the statement. He merely nodded solemnly as if it made total sense as he examined her card. "I'm glad someone is investigating."

She shot a quick glance at Dick at the doctor's words. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, when he was admitted he looked pretty rough." The doctor went back to his work on Dick's stitches with a pair of tweezers. "I'd say he was pretty lucky that someone happened by him."

"Okay, sure." Disappointed with his answer, Mac prodded, "Is that why you thought that he was a danger to himself? That perhaps his physical state was a sign of instability?"

The doctor, who had just finished removing the stitches along Dick's eye, set the tweezers down, looking between the two of them. "First of all, I never said he was a danger to himself. I said he shouldn't be left alone. But the fact is this: the cops who responded were told to go home by the sheriff. They didn't take a statement or follow up on his John Doe status. There was no report filed." Dr. Morris inspected the scar that now ran along the edge of Dick's eyebrow. "That in itself is alarming. Experience tells me that when the police voluntarily won't get involved, there is something more at play than just a drunken injury." Clearing his throat, the doctor stole a look at the closed door and then continued, "I also can tell you, that Mr. Casablancas here has money. He has the look of money with or without his wallet. It's obvious and there was no reason for him to have been sent here to County. He should have been taken directly to St. Mark's, but instead, he ended up here. Now don't get me wrong, we have a good enough staff here to handle any kind of injury or emergency, but I'm not stupid. This is the county hospital. We get the hit and run victims, homeless people…uninsured patients, we're the welfare hospital. We don't usually take in the wealthy, unless there is a national emergency. So you tell me, why would Mr. Casablancas have ended up at this hospital? To be honest, I was and am worried for his safety; yes... I may have intentionally misled you about why he needed the supervision. But that doesn't mean that it wasn't well intended."

"You're telling me that the police department is involved with this?" Mac enquired, shocked.

"Actually, what I'm saying is that they're not involved. They don't want any involvement. Period."

Dick stood up from the exam table, pulling his shirt back on over his head, grabbing his sports jacket. "Why didn't you say anything Friday?"

With that question, the doctor had the grace to look remorseful. "I regret that I didn't tell you that day. I was hoping that my gut feeling wasn't right, but if that were true, you wouldn't be asking these questions, so I apologize."

Leaving the hospital, neither Dick nor Mac said anything. Still processing what the doctor had just told them, it seemed neither had words to say to one another. Mac text Veronica telling her that they would need another late night going over the case as she slid into the driver's seat. Waiting until Dick finished buckling himself into the passenger seat, she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Knowing exactly where they needed to go, she checked the time to see that it was just after four o'clock. Grateful that it wasn't yet time for rush hour traffic, Mac headed to the freeway and then downtown, still not saying anything.

Minutes passed by, and as she exited off the freeway, Dick stiffened as their destination became obvious. She felt his gaze on her and she glanced over quickly. "What?"

"Really? We're going to the Grand?"

"You heard Veronica before she left. No time like the present." Flipping her blinker to merge into the other lane, she looked back to check her blind spot before saying, "I emailed myself a picture of our guy. I know the front desk won't be willing to give out information. They won't give out any names, because of confidentiality clauses. But if we can get a name from someone, anyone, I can go back into the Grand's site and into the registration, to see if this guy was a guest or what. If that doesn't work, we can at least do a preliminary search on the guy, to see what his connections to you might be. I'm not leaving there until we have a name.

Veronica decided to take a detour stop to see Weevil at his shop. She had only briefly talked to him about Dick's Land Rover and thought it might be a good time to speak to him in person. And she wanted to verify for certain that Madison's car really had yet to come through.

After parking, both Keith and Veronica went inside the shop's waiting area and she dinged the little bell that sat on the counter. A short, jolly-looking Mexican man stepped through the doorway that led to where the work was performed, smiling. "How can we help you?"

"Is Mr. Navarro here? I need to speak with him." Veronica handed him her business card.

"Sure thing, Ms. Mars. It will be just a moment." He disappeared through the doorway and within minutes, Weevil came sauntering in from the shop, a smirk touching his lips, "Well look what the cat dragged in." Noticing Keith, he nodded to him. "Sheriff Mars."

Keith tipped his head in response, eyes crinkling with amusement. "Eli."

"I was hoping to catch you quickly to talk a little more about the Land Rover that was processed? And to give you this," she pulled a picture of Madison's car out of her bag, "I wrote the VIN and license plate number on the back for reference. It would be great if you could pass that along."

Weevil took the proffered picture, glancing at it before stuffing it into his shirt pocket. "No problem, V. Let's step into my office." He led them over to a doorway that led down a short hallway, to the very end, turning left into his office. He motioned for them both to sit down as he went around the desk to sit in his chair. "What can I tell you about the Land Rover that I didn't already say?"

"Well, first of all, where did your cousin find it? What part of town?"

"They found it downtown in an alleyway, off Boulevard and Center. It was down one of those in-between streets where only garbage trucks and delivery vans normally go. One of the owners called it in to Raul—didn't want to bother the illustrious P.D. I guess. It happens a lot."

Veronica nodded in thought. "Did they say how long it had been there?"

"I would have to double check, but long enough for them to know it wasn't going anywhere. I guess the tires had been jacked and the thing was on blocks."

"Was there anything left in the car to identify it other than the VIN? Like, I don't know, personal items, registration cards, or insurance?"

Eli shook his head. "The VIN number had been filed, V. The only reason Raul knew to call me was because I put the alert out. There was nothing in it."

"What did Raul do with it?"

An awkward moment passed. "Well…they stripped what was left and it's gone, V."

Not surprised, but disappointed nonetheless, Veronica sighed. "I didn't expect much less. You'll let me know if the other car goes through?"

They decided to use the Valet. Fortunately for both of them they were both dressed nicely enough, Dick in slacks and a sports jacket over a collared shirt, Mac wearing a light sweater over a plain black dress, to pull off going to the Grand for pleasure. Mac merely took the sweater off and, viola, ready for dinner. When she requested, Dick searched the back seat for the gray pumps that she had worn Thursday night. Leaning between the seats, Dick found the pumps along with the navy blue dress. Sitting back in his seat, he held out both the dress and the shoes. His voice was thick as he asked, "You sure you don't want to make a stop before hand to change?"

Ignoring his comment, Mac grabbed the dress out of his hands and threw it into the back seat. Reaching a stop light, she quickly traded her flats out for the gray pumps, sliding them and zipping the short zippers while they waited for the light to turn green. The flats joined the navy blue dress in the back. Dick watched, his lids heavy, a lazy smile on his face. "You know, this is golden opportunity for a great Dick-ism, but I think I'll refrain."

"I appreciate your restraint." She checked her hair in the rearview mirror, thoughtlessly adding, "It might actually pay off for once."

"Huh. Famous last words."

"You wish."

Pulling to the front of the building, Dick got out first to come around to open her door before the attendant could reach it. Winking at her, he held his casted hand out for her to take, and she stepped out alongside him, feeling ridiculous. Once out, instead of releasing her, Dick adjust his hand to fit more comfortably in hers and didn't let go.

She was disappointed to see that the valet attendant was not the same as the one from Thursday night as he approached. Dick registered that fact quickly, too, she noticed, as he handed the keys over to the attendant, pulling out cash from his pocket. "Take care of my baby here; are you the only attendant tonight? There better not be any dings or scratches, when is your shift over? Tell whoever comes in next they better be good to her." He held the cash just out of reach from the kid, waiting for his answer.

The Valet, a young kid really, eyed the large bill sticking out of Dick's hand. "Uh…my shift is over at five, sir…"

"Five, huh? Do you promise to tell the next guy to be careful with my baby?" When the kid nodded, Dick grunted in approval and handed him the tip. "I'm glad to hear it," Dick purposely looked at the kid's name tag, "Paul."

Leaving Paul with her keys, Dick and Mac walked hand in hand into the Grand. She nervously snickered. "If that guy honestly thinks that's your baby, I'm a millionaire."

Pulling her closer into him, Dick leaned down into her ear to say in a soft undertone, "That guy knows what a man does to impress a woman, so yeah, he knows who my baby is. I wouldn't worry too much."

Pulling her toward the bar, he released her hand to snake his arm around her waist, drawing her even closer into him. She wasn't anywhere near the height of him, but somehow he seemed comfortable with it. She could smell the familiar scent of sandalwood and lime she had first associated with Dick on Saturday night. It took all her willpower to not burrow herself deeper into his side, instead consciously keeping her mind on the steps they were taking. Not wanting to look stiff to those around her, she allowed her own arm to wind around his waist, feeling his slight surprised intake of breath as her fingers grazed under his sports jacket to loop her thumb through the belt loop of his slacks.

She knew instinctively what game he was playing tonight at the Grand. Mac could and would play it the same way; they just hadn't talked about it yet. She could play a part of the adoring lover. Sure. Why not? Game on.

She let him lead her into the bar, let him choose two of the many empty stools to sit near where the bartender was shaking a drink. He loosened his hold around her to help her into her chair, and she found herself smiling at him, pleased with his care. Sitting down next to her, he pulled a drink menu over to her. "Pick us something good, Honey."

Her smile faded when she took the menu from his hands, thoughts of whether they should have placed Dick in this situation or not suddenly plaguing her. For the past four days, they had thought that Dick was an alcoholic and now they were here, in a bar, about to order a drink. Tracing the edge of the leather bound menu, she met his eyes with caution. He smiled a regretful smile, his understanding dawning. "Order something for you, I mean. I'll have a coke."

She set the menu firmly back in the holder. "It's too early for hard stuff anyway. I'll have a coke, too."

The bartender, a short and stocky forty-something year old man, heard their exchange, but stepped over to confirm the order before pouring it, swiftly placing coasters down and filling their glasses full from a soda hose he pulled from underneath the counter.

Dick waited until the bartender finished before looking at Mac, big-eyed with a huge grin on his face. "I just realized something, Babe. "Hey, what's your name, man?"

The bartender, who was starting to turn away, turned back with slight hesitation. "Diego."

Dick kept his grin large, "Diego. Sure. Anyway, I think you, Diego, can settle a bet between the two of us." Both Diego and Mac watched Dick silently with equal interest. "Babe, can you get your phone out? Show him the picture." Mac did as he asked, flipping through the menus to the photo of their suspect. The picture was remarkably clear: a close up shot of his face, thankfully not showing any evidence that the background was the Neptune Grand. Handing it over, Mac wondered where exactly Dick was going with this. "Great, thanks, Hon." He showed the picture to Diego, flipping the phone on its side to enlarge it. "My wife saw this guy here last week and is just sure that he's that famous actor, you know, the one in the latest Avengers movie? She took this picture and was dying to go up to him for his autograph. Have you ever seen him? Did he stay here? Is he shooting a movie or something in Neptune?"

The bartender tilted the phone into the light, examining it closely. "That guy?" He looked up incredulously. "Seriously? Man, your wife must be blind in both eyes." He flushed when he caught Mac's eye, "all due respect, Ma'am, but what part in Avengers do you think he plays?" He snickered. "Maybe one of the dead along the side of the road."

Mac feigned disappointment. "Really? Oh, that's too bad. I was really hoping to get his autograph or…I don't know…find out where they're shooting. I was so hoping he'd be here tonight. If he's not famous, I wonder where I've seen him before."

"Do you spend much time here at the Grand? He's a regular." Diego handed the phone back to her, "Ol' Aidan will get a kick out of that, someone thinking his sorry ass face is famous."

There was a taut silence. Mac firmly touched her hand to Dick's thigh, squeezing it. He received her message, loud and clear, relaxing against the back of the barstool, chuckling along with Diego. "Well, that would have been too good to be true, eh, Babe? Really, you don't think he looks like that guy? We just wanted to see something that wasn't there, I guess." He shot a look at the bartender. "You tell Ol' Aidan that there were some star struck fools here at the Grand, seeing his name in lights," he raised his hands, as if framing a headline in the air, "Aidan—sorry, what's his last name?"

"Muldoon."

Nodding, Dick continued, "Aidan Muldoon: Robert Downey's Doppelganger." He lowered his hands, grabbed his coke and took a small sip. Swallowing, he shook his head, looking embarrassed. "Wow, I'm glad we asked. We would have looked mighty stupid, looking for a superstar in the halls, lurking behind the bushes."

"I would have loved to see you in action, man. He would have eaten it up. That guy's always here, picking up women." Diego grabbed a towel and began drying glasses that sat beside him. "You would have had to really watch that guy with your lady here." He motioned towards Mac. "I don't see no ring on that finger, mister, but that probably wouldn't stop the guy anyhow. He would have really played with that one. Goes after any kind of tail. Likes the chase, if you know what I mean."

Lovely, Mac thought. Just her kind of man. Squeezing her fingers deeper into Dick's leg, she pushed the glass away from her. "Honey, I think we need to get going if we want to make it in time, don't you think?"

Dick's hand reached down to cover hers that clung tightly to his leg, squeezing it slightly. "Of course, you're right, Sweets." Sighing heavily, Dick reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out bills, laying more than enough down on the counter. Standing up, he helped Mac down from her stool, saying to the bartender, "Thanks, Diego, for clearing that up. And I'm not worried about my lady here, no amount of celebrity, real or otherwise, would interest her in that way. True blue all the way, right here."

Together, they walked out of the bar, Dick with his arm around her shoulders this time. She let him hold on to her as she eyed the lobby area, watching for signs of anything suspicious. Talking about Aidan Muldoon had given her the creeps, just as he himself had given her the creeps on Thursday night. Thinking about him made her skin crawl.

Tucking herself closer into Dick's side, Mac grumbled, "I'm trying to decide how I feel about being called Miss and Ma'am both in the same day, within hours of each other. How much have I aged in the past three hours? Seriously?"

Unexpectedly, Dick stopped walking. Glancing back at him in confusion, she saw alarm in his face, and she followed his gaze to where his eyes were trained on a man turned away from them, exiting the elevator, talking to another man as he did so. Mac recognized Aidan Muldoon immediately even without seeing his face.

She reacted before she could think twice about what she was doing. Pulling Dick into her, she stepped backwards until she hit into a wall, drawing her arms up and around his neck, pulling his face down into the crook of her neck so she could see over him to watch the slow progression of their suited man. She wasn't sure what Dick would do if he had an opportunity to approach him, but she knew she couldn't take the chance. Mac knew they needed to get a better idea of what this guy was about before they approached him. Her eyes were trained on Aidan Muldoon as he stood in front of the closed elevator, talking intently to his companion.

She tried to not notice as Dick pinned her tighter against the wall, his arms braced on either side of her, his face nuzzling into her. She pretended that she was pretending that the feel of his lips were making her melt, making her arch up against him. He drew his tongue along the edge of her jawline so that he could whisper softly in her ear, "Is he gone yet?"

Her eyes, which had dreamily slid shut, popped open, rapidly swept the lobby and past, into the hallway to where elevator was. Dick had dropped his mouth lower to the base of her neck, waiting for her answer. Running her fingers through his hair, she pulled at his head so she could look into his face. His eyes were serious but his breathing was choppy, proof of his arousal. Grinning, she pulled him back into her neck, murmuring, "Got to make it count if they're watching. I think they're gone, though."

His hands came down from where they were anchored against the wall to pull Mac into a tight embrace, hands lowering to cup her ass tightly, pushing her up and into his pelvis, making no mistake now of his arousal. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, and then dropped his hands off of her, stepping away, a slight look of regret evident in his eyes. As covertly as possible, he surveyed the room, visibly relaxing when he determined that Aidan had disappeared from view. Holding his hand out, Mac grabbed it, entwining her fingers tightly into his as they purposely made their way out to the front steps, pausing briefly at the door to make sure that no one was at the entrance besides the Valet.

Dick produced the Valet ticket from within his pocket and handed it to the attendant, a different kid than earlier but still not the same Valet as on Thursday, and they waited for her car to be delivered. Once it arrived, Dick held the passenger door out to her, telling her without words that he wanted to drive. Sliding in, Mac let him close the door after her and she watched him jog around to slide into the driver's side, pulling out of the Grand's entrance as quickly as her little car would allow.

While Dick drove, Mac scrolled through the panel list again, hoping against hope that something would pop out at her.

"Who the hell is Aidan Muldoon?" Dick mused out loud, "I still don't recognize that name. It means nothing to me."

"I've never heard of him, either." Mac took her time again with the photos, scrolling through each slowly, checking the last names. Discouraged, she scanned it again with a sinking feeling. "There's nothing that jumps out at me. Damn." Setting the phone into the console, she reached down to loosen the zippers on her pumps, sliding them off her feet. Grabbing them both, she tossed them in the back, unclipped her seat belt, leaned the seat back to give her better access to the back. Not finding what she was looking for, Mac twisted in the seat, crawling on her hands and knees, looking desperately for her flats. She could feel Dick's shoulder digging into the curve of her hip, and as much as she tried to not touch him, the car was just too small to keep from bumping into him. Bracing herself up with one arm on the back of the driver's seat, Mac searched through the pile of forgotten clothing and bags, desperate to find her shoes. "Well, hell…where did they go?"

"Whatever you're looking for I hope you don't find it, I'm enjoying the view too much," Dick responded, his voice thick with laughter. More seriously, he added, "Check behind your side, on the actual seat."

Finding them, she crawled back to the front, adjusted the seat and buckled herself back in. She dropped the flats down by her feet and slid them on. Pulling the sun visor down, she checked herself in the mirror, running fingers through her hair, mentally checking in with herself. Flipping the visor back up, she turned to watch as Dick manipulated the car through lanes of traffic, heading to the freeway. He looked ridiculously uncomfortable, the seat as far back as it could go, his long legs bent in unnatural angles to fit.

"May I assume there was a good reason why you didn't let me punch that guy's lights out?" Dick asked, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "When I saw him, that really was what I was thinking of doing, but then suddenly I was getting a Mac Attack…and I kind of forgot my intentions."

Her face warmed at the memory. "Yeah, I kind of figured. That's why I…attacked you, as you describe it. Wouldn't you rather get a better idea of who this guy is before you approach him? He could be dangerous."

Dick snorted. "I could take that guy anytime."

"Really?" Mac tilted her head in objection. "If that were true, we wouldn't be here right now."

He blinked. "Touché. Well, that was a drive-by. That dude doesn't play by rules." Stopping at a light, he glanced at her, "But you are right about figuring out a bit more about him. MI or the apartment?"

"Office."

All the lights were on when they pulled up to the building. Mac was looking forward to going over what they had found with Veronica. She knew it was going to be a late night. Between Madison's case and Dick's—it wasn't looking like it would be much of a relaxing evening.

When they entered the office, Mac could hear the Mars' in the back office, talking about something in low undertones. She sat down at her desk, set her bag beside her and booted her computer up. Dick sat down directly across from her, waiting for direction as to what he could do.

She wasn't real sure what she should have him do. Truthfully, he didn't really need to even stay around if he didn't want, according to the doctor. He wasn't a danger to himself or to others, so, technically, he was free to do whatever he wanted. Having that option felt strange, though, now that she was getting used to him follow them around for the past four days. She wondered if he was sick of them all yet.

Feeling as if she might be grasping at straws to find something for him to do, she told him, "I wonder if we should look into the emails you got this morning about the foundation. I can hack in and find out who got a blind copy, maybe we can find Aidan Muldoon there. Anything you've gotten concerning the foundation would be terrific. Can you forward them to me?"

Agreeing, Dick left the chair to grab the laptop he had been using earlier and set to work. While he did that, Mac went to check with Veronica and Keith.

They both were hovering over Keith's desk, looking at a map. As Mac came closer, she could see it was a map of Utah. They both looked up at the same time and Veronica smiled. "Ah, Q! So glad you could join us this evening. Sometimes I wonder what we would have done if you would have chosen to stay at Kane Software."

"You would have just taken the Hacking For Dummies class down at the community college and forgotten all about me." Mac pointed over her shoulder towards the door to where Dick sat hunched over the laptop. "We got some serious leads this afternoon. Wanna trade for an hour or so, so that I can hack into Madison's account for Keith here? Fresh eyes might do the case some good."

Keith pulled his keys out of his pocket. "Actually, I need to get going. I left some information at the house that I want to go over, to prepare for my appointment in the morning at The Ten. As much as I want to see what you dig up, I need some time to figure out my approach for the accountant. Call me if anything really interesting pops up, like where those silly little love birds met up."

Grateful for the break on Dick's case, Mac made quick work of hacking into Madison's email accounts. She went into the work account first, accessing it and promptly finding the email that Samantha had referred to at the class the night before. Opening the response from the Ten, she was able to see the email Madison originally had sent. It read:
June 6th

To: HR, Kylie Grange

From: Madison Sinclair

Hi, Kylie:

I know I left it open last week that I might be back by tomorrow, but there is no way I can get back this week. According to what we discussed, I have two weeks of paid personal time, I am definitely going to need at least this whole week off. I'm sorry to put The Ten in a bind, but you did say that I was free to do this if needed. And I need to. Lauren is just not well enough, and I have to be here for her.

Thank you for your understanding.

Madison Sinclair

Intriguing. She was using Lauren's health as an excuse of her absence. Printing the email out, Mac closed the business account and accessed Madison's personal email. It helped that she had already been it before. Taking note of what had come in since she was last in the account, Mac was interested to see that Lauren had emailed once, which was not opened yet. Opening it, she read quickly:

June 6th

To: Madison Sinclair

From: Lauren Sinclair

Maddie-

I wish you would call or visit. It's been too long. Mom was acting all kinds of weird when I asked about you. Are you all right?

Dad's been home a lot. He seems distracted, too. It's been fun playing cards with him. He took me to my treatment on Friday. The doctor's seem happy with how good I'm doing. My incision is healing nicely, they said. Dad took me to the awesome ice cream palace place we used to go to all the time growing up, remember the one? I wished you were there, though.

Love you!

Lauren

She printed it, marked it as unread and kept scrolling down, deciding to check further back prior to May. Instead of clicking only suspicious emails with interesting headings, she opened them each one at a time, to double check.

It was in doing this that she hit pay dirt, in the form of an email from Shelley Pomroy , who had written in response to one that Madison had written her back in the beginning part of April. With increasing fascination, she read what Shelley wrote first and then onto what Madison had originally written to her:

April 7

To: Madison Sinclair

From: Shelley Pomroy

Mads-

Oh, I am so sorry that Lauren isn't well. That's so scary. I hope they figure it out soon. What's going on with your dad and work? That isn't good at all. I have never thought to worry about you and your fam's money situation, but you sure are making me now.

Rick's a prick. He always has been. Get rid of him. Remember at the reunion? The only good thing he did was get that whole tape. Later I found out that he got that skank Wanda to go down on him in one of the stalls in the women's bathroom that night. I didn't want to tell you, but seriously. Ask Melanie. She walked in on them. He's got connections, I will say that. But that's the only thing you'll miss. What's he got to be obsessed about?

Don't worry about the money. We'll figure something out, I'm sure. Your dad hasn't lost his job yet, has he? Please don't sleep with that loser!

I'll be in Neptune next week. I'll call. We're doing lunch.

Luvs!

Els

Mac scrolled to the bottom, to read Madison's email to Shelley:

April 7

To: Shelley Pomroy

From: Madison Sinclair

Els-

Lauren is sick. I'm so scared! They aren't sure what's wrong with her, but it doesn't look good. She's the only thing that's good in my family right now. If anything happens to her….I don't know what I'll do. This couldn't have come at a worse time; Dad said that they're doing a bunch of layoffs this spring…and you know, he's right at that age where he can't draw on retirement yet and he can't just go get work anywhere else….and whatever is wrong with Lauren is going to cost a ton if he loses their insurance…I don't know what they're going to do.

No one here even cares. Rick is obsessed with his own stuff, I'm through with him. He's being a total jack ass. I've told a few of my students at work about Lauren and they're all concerned…but I miss you! It would be great to have lunch soon. I've been talking to the owner's son, you know, Mark? I've told you about him. Remember, he asked me out, like, ages ago? Total basket case, remember? The type that goes to game bars to play Dungeons and Dragons. He's actually been really nice, though, listening to me go on and on. He said he wants to help. Whatever that means. Maybe they'll let me put collection cans on the counter at The Ten. Can you imagine? Ha. Maybe if I get in good with upper crust there, they really would let me. Maybe if I sleep with him, he'll give me his millions. I've done worse I suppose.

Maybe we can meet for lunch soon. Let me know. TTYL

Luvs

Mads.

Rereading both emails, Mac felt growing trepidation. The implication here was that Madison didn't even like Mark, or at least hadn't liked him to begin with. She supposed that was possible, but still. And it was interesting, reading Madison's concern for Lauren and how her family would pay for the hospital care. The emails to her family had not expressed that. Granted, this was well before the Sinclair's had found out the extent of Lauren's illness and before they told Madison about her switch. She needed to show Veronica, to see what she thought. And who the hell was Rick and what 'tape' was Shelley talking about? Although, thinking back to the reunion, she knew which tape. Veronica was not going to like this.

A/N: Thank you for all your support, follows, favorites, and reviews/comments. I hope to have the next chapter up by the middle of next week. I hope all my 'clues' for both mysteries are not too muddled. They will be solved, I promise ;) soon. And although it still is 'weeks' away to Logan's return, I plan to have that in here as well, perhaps in an epilogue? We'll see. I have some ideas for that. Have a great weekend, all!