A/N: Okay, folksies. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 22_

Veronica was heading down the drive by the time they turned up it. The birds were chirping as if it were a pleasant day, but all Veronica could think about was getting off of the mountain now before anyone returned to this cabin. Seeing her friends, she began a steady jog down the steep dirt road.

Meeting her closer to the edge of the driveway than to the cabin, both Dick and Mac seemed to sense her urgency and turned back with her to the main road. They said nothing as they headed back toward the maintenance road. Once there, they all scrambled up it, quickly opening the car and jumping into it, Veronica handing her pack back to Dick but keeping her gun with her.

Making sure they were all in and ready, Veronica put the SUV into drive and slowly descended down the road. When they hit the loop, she turned right, to head down, her knuckles white as she tightly grasped the steering wheel, trying to stay calm and in control until they were safely off of the mountain and back on the highway. Neither Dick nor Mac said anything.

The sun flashed light through the trees and she could see a trail of dust behind her that the SUV was kicking up. She prayed no one would be coming up the road the same time they were coming down it; but there really was no guarantee. She kept the speed at a slow but steady pace so as not to go teetering off an edge or veering into the trees.

She rolled the windows down to better hear any extra noise, the radio off. Mac was the first to notice a car approaching them from below, she could see it through the foliage. Of course, there were no turnoffs or cabins on this part of the road, so they had no choice but to meet it at a wide spot on the road. Veronica was forced to pull over as far as she could to avoid a head-on.

Before the car had turned up to meet them, Veronica, with obvious panic in her voice, ordered, "Get down, Dick. Don't let anyone see you. I'll explain later." Looking at Mac, she said, "Get your gun, put it in your lap, have it ready."

They didn't question her authority. Dick pulled himself off of the seat and down into the floorboards, smashing himself as low as he could to avoid detection. Mac positioned her gun in her right hand, arm between her thigh and the door, finger ready near the trigger. Veronica did the same, but in her left hand.

The car below them pulled around the switchback and was driving toward them. It was not the same vehicle as before, and not the same driver, Veronica was thankful to see. The car passed by, an SUV filled with college-aged kids, good-naturedly waving as their car drove by. Relaxing her grip on her gun, Veronica pulled back out and continued down the road.

"Stay down, Dick, just to be safe," she instructed him. "Mac, keep a hold of that thing."

Mercifully, they didn't meet another vehicle again. They made it down the mountainside, across the meadow full of cows, and through the gate to finally reach the highway without incident. Breathing a sigh of relief, Veronica handed her gun to Mac. "Take the clip out, will ya?"

Mac dutifully did just that, setting the gun on the console and placing the clip in a cup holder. Her face was ashen, a nervous hue of gray that Veronica knew mirrored on her own. She felt Dick squirming behind her on the floor board, and she called back to him, "Honestly, I'm not trying to be mean for no reason, but I really think you should stay low a bit longer."

"Oh, no problem," he chirped from below. "I'm just looking for dropped Cheetos from the last renter to tide me over till lunch. I could stay here all day."

"Hey. I'm just trying to save your ass, that's all. Do yourself a favor and stay down."

"God, Ronnie, I didn't say I wouldn't do it. Anything for you, you know."

"It's mostly for you, dude. Keeping your skin intact is a priority."

"Well, as I live and breathe. The mighty Veronica's priority is little ol' me," Dick said in a faux southern accent.

"I do declare," Veronica bit back in her own faux accent, "The gentleman caller seems to think I've taken a fancy to him." Turning her attention to Mac, she instructed her, "Check the map. See if there is another way back to Salt Lake. We need to get back, call Dad, and call the FBI. But we have got to get to our hotel first, and I'm taking no chances. I don't want these guys knowing we were here. I think once we get out of this valley, we should be good. They don't know about you or me. As long as they don't see Dick, we're golden now that we got off of that mountain."

"I take it Madison wasn't there?" Mac asked evenly as she began searching the map. "At the four-way, it looks like you can go straight through it and then hit a road in twenty or so miles that winds back to Park City or we can go through a canyon that takes us way south out to I-15."

Tucking the driving information away, Veronica answered Mac's question. "Madison wasn't there. But I found a bag of women's clothes I'm sure are hers. I don't think she's there, I think Mark's been putting her up at the Palisade for the past week. I have a feeling she didn't like the woodsy setting as much as he wanted her to." Approaching the four-way, Veronica's eyes rested on a vehicle pulling to a stop adjacent to them, coming from the small town. She felt her heart beat speed up. "Isn't that the SUV that left the cabin?" she asked heart in her mouth. "Stay down, Dick!" she warned through clenched teeth.

The bulky looking vehicle was Rich-On-Steroids. Over-chromed and a shiny black, there were only remnants of the dusty road around the wheel-wells. The driver pulled to the stop sign before Veronica had fully come to a stop, and he didn't wait to make sure she stopped. He turned the vehicle left in front of them to pass by, his destination most likely the cabin she had just left. Trying not to stare, Veronica watched him from the corner of her eye: brown curly hair, cut short, stubby-nosed, severe forehead. He gazed straight ahead, not even noticing them.

Mac had pulled out her phone during this, keeping her head down but eyes up, watching him. As he passed, she sucked in a breath. "I recognize him."

Checking the rear-view mirror, Veronica drove straight through the four-way. "I think I can take a guess at who it was, too."

Turning her phone to show the screen to Veronica, Mac said, "I found his web-site on our way up here, I just didn't get a chance to show you. It's –"

"Patrick Muldoon."

Staring out the front window, Mac wasn't sure what to say. It didn't completely surprise her to know that for some reason, the Muldoon's, at least one of them, were involved with the Tennison mess. Or that Mark Tennison was involved in the Castle, no matter what their stolen file told them to the contrary. But it didn't help her already worried brain any.

Piping up from the back, Dick said in a muffled-tone, "I think if I stay down here any longer, my ass might fall off. And I would really miss women grabbing it. They say men like it tight, but this is ridiculous."

It had been about ten minutes since they had passed the four-way. Mac looked behind them, seeing that no one was behind them and no one was ahead of them. She murmured to Veronica, "Can't he get out from there? I think it's safe."

Nodding, Veronica conceded. "We need to talk about what I found, anyway."

Grunting and groaning, seeming to over-exaggerate, Dick pulled himself up out of the floor board and slid himself onto the middle back seat. He leaned in between them. "Now, did I hear you right? Patrick Muldoon just passed you on the road?"

Mac handed her phone back to him. She had left the close up picture of Patrick Muldoon open for Dick to see. He stared at it a moment and then handed it back. "So what does all this mean?"

Looking in the rear-view mirror, Veronica nervously stretched her fingers on the steering wheel. "I found some pretty damning evidence that Mark Tennison has been skimming from more accounts than just his family's business. He's a full-blown white-collar mastermind."

They had begun driving up a long hillside that was very barren and dry. Mac kept looking in the side mirror; to be sure no one was following them. She could see that for now there was no reason why they wouldn't be able to see a car that might approach them from behind. Keeping an eye on the road, she listened as Veronica explained about finding the files, the names, and the First Trust Bank.

"So what got your panties in a bunch you were running out of there like you set the place on fire?" Dick interjected, "I mean, I've never known a little ol' paperwork to scare the likes of Veronica Mars."

"Maybe the fact that I found a few guns has caused some of my alarm. I also found vials of liquid. Lots of vials. I think the money laundering is just the tip of the ice berg." That shut him up. "Get my camera out of my bag, Dick, and hand it up to Mac. She can load the pics on the computer and show you. Be careful! I put one of the vials in the front pockets to keep it safe until we can get it to the authorities."

"What do you think it is?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if it's some form of GHB." She paused. "Probably what they fed you last week, Dick." They began down the hillside, a long stretch of road that ended at a tee the bottom. "Which way do I go, Mac?"

Referring to the map, they took a few minutes break to make sure they were headed on the right route. Once headed the direction they needed, Mac asked, "So what makes you think that Madison is at the Palisade?"

Flashback:

Finished taking all the pictures she needed, Veronica put the camera back in her bag. She pulled the bug out of her pocket and looked around, finally settling on a side table with a drawer. Crouching down, she attached it to the underside of it and then opened the drawer, curious what she might find. Inside was a bundle of paperwork, banded together.

Taking it out, she flipped through the papers. On the top was a bill for the Hotel Palisade, the hotel she recognized as the one her dad had booked for them for the night. She recalled him saying it was the same place that Mark's conference was at. There was an array of interesting charges: massages, salon services, a high charge to the in-house clothing boutique, and room service—all for the past week. She noted the name at the top of the bill: Shelby D. Marcus. Curious. Someone had written $19,000.00 MS at the bottom and circled it many times in red ink. Taking her camera out once again, Veronica took a picture of each paper in the stack, perusing them as she went. Carefully she replaced the papers back in the drawer and left the room to move onto the next.

Across the hall was the kitchen. She stepped in and looked around. Opening the refrigerator, she found it pretty lacking in food for having someone living here for the past week. Her suspicion was verified when she saw a grocery list written on a post-it note stuck to the table. The person who left probably forgot to bring his list with him to the store.

An ominous sensation filled her and she suddenly felt anxious to get out of there. If the person returned, it could get ugly. The little handgun in her jeans was laughable compared to the artillery she had just run across in the study. Four large-ish guns against their baby guns would just be embarrassing and likely get them killed. Backing out slowly, she double checked every where she had been and locked the door behind her as she rushed out the front door, ears tuned to any sound that didn't belong.

They headed north, up a canyon that led back to Park City, turning left onto a little winding road that brought them closer still. The road didn't lead them directly into the downtown part of the tourist-laden town but they could see it, nestled between two mountainsides. There was plenty of activity at each ski resort they passed, but pass they did until they found a shopping outlet right next to the entrance of I-80. Starving, they couldn't make an excuse to keep driving when there were an assortment of restaurants and fast-food joints staring at them through the window, beckoning them to stop with signs plastered in the windows advertising their foodstuffs. Especially when Dick began loudly complaining from the back seat and Veronica couldn't tell if it was his stomach grumbling or his mouth.

She didn't want to stop for long. Although positive that Patrick Muldoon hadn't seen them, she was quaking a bit at the fact that he might suspect someone had been inside of the cabin and come looking. Cell service was spotty enough that she wanted to wait until they were out of the canyon to even attempt a call to the Feds. There was plenty of time to get that call done once they were safely checked into their rooms at the Palisade.

Their food wrapped to go, the three picked their drinks out from a fancy thousand choices soda machine and they were on the road once again before fifteen minutes had passed by. Feeling that enough time had passed and that no one had followed them, Veronica asked Dick to drive so that as soon as they were in the city, she could call her dad and have him look into the room at the Palisade reserved for one Shelby D. Marcus. If her suspicion proved true, Madison would be behind that door. Anxious, she climbed into the back seat while Dick took the wheel.

Before they knew it, they were out of the canyon and on the belt route that led to I-15. Taking no time to spare as soon as she saw she had full bars on her phone, she dialed her dad and waited.

Keith answered on the first ring. "Give me good news, honey. I need some right now."

"Why? What's going on?" Curious, the information she was about to spout out froze on her tongue. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything here is fine, but I just found out some interesting news." He paused for effect. "The Muldoon's are cousins to the Tennison's. Through their mothers; they're sisters."

"Cousins?" Veronica repeated hollowly. "Well, that explains why Patrick Muldoon is with Mark Tennison." She briefly explained what she found in the cabin and her assumption that Mark Tennison had opened a number of bogus accounts. "I'll email the pictures when we get Wi-Fi. But I need you to do a little digging for us."

The whole way from Park City, both Veronica and Mac had kept their noses to their computers or phones, ignoring his driving until he was almost to the hotel. They had punched the address into the GPS as they left the lunch spot so he had been able to concentrate without bothering them. Apparently, Mac's "car-sickness" that made it impossible to work earlier had eluded her at the threat of the missing Madison had become more imminent. The only thing she asked of him was whether he had a knife on him to cut a bad spot out of her apple. Almost immediately after she had handed it back after using it, she had asked for it back after finding yet another spot. He told her to just hold on to it for future use, that he could get it back later. She had barely looked at him the rest of the drive.

Pulling into the parking garage, Dick drove up two levels before he was able to find a spot to pull into. The parking spaces in Utah seemed even bigger than the ones in California; compact cars seemed taboo here, the spaces built exclusively for over-sized vehicles. He'd hardly seen any of those little plug-in types that were all the rage down south, instead the freeway was filled with pick-up trucks and excursions, big heavy vehicles that must just melt snow merely threatening to be driven through it.

Finally they made their way to the check-in counter. Keith had smartly used an alias for this little week-end-ish getaway, which, according to Veronica's findings at the cabin, Madison had as well. Maybe they could find this Shelby D….that sounded like a porn star name if he ever heard one, Shelby Double-D is now taking the stage! He wondered who picked it out and why.

The lobby was well-lit and spacious. Seeing that it was early afternoon, there were only a few people milling about. The clerk at the counter smiled tightly at the three of them, eyeing their dusty clothes. Dick could tell that crisply tailored woman was wondering what on earth three hikers were doing tracking up the perfectly polished marble floors. He and Mac waited off to the side while Veronica checked them in.

Minutes later, she came up to them, looking vaguely disappointed. "She says there are no lockout rooms left, so we're across the hall from one another. I really wish we could have adjoining rooms." Handing Dick his room key, she shrugged in defeat. "At least it's the same floor."

Pulling the card from her fingers, Dick glanced over to the clerk who was busily typing away. "Can I see your key for a moment?" Hesitantly, Veronica handed it over. "Watch and learn, grasshopper." With a smirk and wink he headed to the counter.

Ten minutes later the three of them were boarding the elevator and heading to their new room, the presidential suite. Mac had to keep her smile tamped down when Dick returned with the key cards and handed one to each of them as he led them away from the front desk, giving a flirty smile back to the clerk.

Veronica rolled her eyes. "I will never understand how you do that."

"What? Like you've never used your charms to get what you wanted from the opposite sex," Dick told her in a slightly amused tone. "Just because I'm the master of it." He flipped the keycard through his fingers. "I can teach you sometime, if you need a refresher."

"Humph," Veronica grumbled, "I'm the queen of the head-tilt."

"Be that as it may, Ronnie, you've got to use the right bait with the right hook. Otherwise, it's all for naught."

"Har-dy-har….har."

Presidential suites were the way to go. They each had their own room, with a view. As soon as they had opened the door, Mac kept her appreciation to herself, but deep down was impressed. Somehow Dick had gotten the upgrade free of charge and, boy, now she wondered what exactly he had promised the front clerk. Late-night eat-out perhaps? I mean, damn, the boy had charms, but really, he really was spectacular to pull that one off. Especially when he'd had two women in tow. Whatever he had said worked magic. Master, indeed. The whole suite was bigger that the little house that she had grown up in.

Almost immediately, Veronica had moved into her private room to call the FBI. She had some type of connection from her days as an intern so many moons ago. Mac wasn't surprised Veronica still had the number stored in her phone. Taking that as her cue, Mac called Keith to see if he had found any information for them about which room Madison might be in. Her nerves were on high alert, higher than they had been this morning, back in the woods, thinking that at this very moment, Madison could very well be in this very hotel, quite possibly right next door to them. In a way, Mac wished she herself could see and talk to Madison first, because she had a slight suspicion that once the blond realized who all was looking for her, things might get ugly. It would be nice to have the whole baby switch conversation alone and away from inquisitive ears, i.e., Richard Casablancas Junior. She didn't trust that Madison wouldn't fling accusations or spew the whole sordid tale out…Mac shuddered. It would really be best to have that first encounter alone.

Tapping on the send button, Mac's eyes connected with Dick's for a moment; his blue eyes deep pools she could almost drown herself in. Not for the first time, she imagined what it would be like to just tell him the whole thing; but really….if all this mess weren't going on, she just might. She should have taken her chance back under the pine tree, he'd asked, after all. Her mouth opened slightly, the words on her lips, momentarily forgetting the phone pressed to her ear. But before she had much chance to think more on that particular subject, Keith answered the phone. She returned her attention to the call, turning away from temptation and pacing the length of the room, head down.

Her eyes seemed to be telling him something in that brief moment he connected with her. There was a softness and a pull that hadn't been there earlier. The damn girl would be the death of him, he just knew it. He had been playing it cool and collected all freaking day, but now, in this hotel room, the air was crackling with awareness. And possibly something else. Something…heavier. He couldn't quite define whatever it was that had flashed across her face; but it was something important, a shift in her thinking. But then whoever had answered the other line and she had broken the contact and suddenly the moment was over.

Now, Mac was on her phone pacing like a panther on the prowl, her face screwed up in concentration as she murmured quietly to whoever was on the other end. Veronica had disappeared into her room and Dick felt like he was Dick-ing around, good for about nothing. At least he had scored this room. That had been something, at least. He was a bit worried now that they knew about the Muldoon's relation to the Tennison's whether it was a good or bad thing he was here with them in Utah, closer to apparent danger. But, hell, he would love at some point to have it out with those fuckers, just to find out what the hell they had against him. If Veronica wouldn't have had such a grim death stare on her face as she had fled down that dirt driveway, he would have preferred to just hang out up there to get a better idea of what those morons were doing. It seemed like it must be bigger than Dick Jr.

There was a pause in Mac's conversation and his gaze slid to where she stood at the window, vacantly staring down into the street. The phone that had been to her ear now hung loosely in her hand, forgotten. Deep in thought, she jumped when he came behind her to set his hand lightly on her shoulder.

"Whaddya say we blow this joint?" He asked, half serious. "I'd love to take you to dinner."

Taking in a deep breath, Mac shut her eyes tightly for half a moment and then turned to him. Slowly, she opened them, meeting his gaze. "Dick, I…" looking down, she clenched her hands together, evidently deciding something. She shook her head, a frown on her lips. "I...forgot something down in the car." She stepped away from him and headed to the door. "I'll be back." Fidgety, she turned back to smile at him, her hand playing with the doorknob. She bit her lip. "And then we can talk about dinner." With that, Mac slipped out the door.

He stared at the space that she had just occupied. He knew he had a dumbfounded, open-mouthed gape, but he didn't quite care. That just sounded to him like a freaking 'yes' to his slight proposal for dinner. Yes? More beautiful words had never been spoken.

Because he was so shocked at her sudden agreement to dinner, it took him a moment to come to his senses to realize that he had the keys to the SUV in his pocket. Dick pulled them out and jogged to the door, opening it to see that Mac had disappeared, most likely already on the elevator. He deliberated whether to chase after her or not, but figured if he just stayed put that she would realize she needed the keys and come back. If he tried to catch up to her, they would probably be back and forth with trying to find each other. He stepped back into the room and shut the door. Texting her, he hoped that there was decent service in this place; back at the Grand, he remembered how texting sometimes would get sucked into a vortex, never to show up in the intended's inbox. Calling was often the same. Mac had service on her fancy-shmance phone, but he was discouraged to see that his only had one bar, going in and out. What type of sticks hotel was this, that cell service was so piss poor? He sat on the couch and waited.

Room 319, Keith had said. She stared at the door, mustering up the strength to knock.

She felt bad about lying. Mac really didn't need anything out of the car and she had directly turned her phone on vibrate, knowing that Dick would be texting or calling to say that she should come get the car keys. To her, Madison presented no other threat than that of spilling a secret too soon. Mark Tennison was in conferences all day and Patrick Muldoon was at the cabin. This little meeting would no doubt be interrupted by Veronica in about ten minute's time anyway. Mac had just jumped the gun a little.

Veronica was going to be pissed, but so be it. Mac had to do this first. She needed to talk to Madison before anyone else did. It just had to be that way. Deep, calming breaths, she told herself, just take deep calming breaths and this will be over before you know it. She looked down at herself. Still in her jeans and hiking boots, she looked a little worse for wear. She could have at least run a comb through her hair. Rolling her eyes, because really, she wasn't that worried about what she looked like, she resolutely lifted her knuckles to the door and rapped on it.

Behind the peephole, Mac could see movement, a fleeting shadow and then the heavy hotel door opened and Madison Sinclair stood in front of her: blond hair swept back, wearing a forest green peasant blouse over black expensive-looking leggings, with green flats on her feet.

The typical unimpressed expression Madison always wore was plastered on her face. Her eyes were shifty as she looked left and right before staring straight at Mac. In a faintly arrogant voice, she said, "Cindy Mackenzie."

Mac noticed right away that for all the airs Madison was putting on, there was a slight warble to her voice, a bit of caginess to her posture. She seemed nervous. "The one and only."

Looking down her nose at her, Madison replied flatly, "Really. Seems to me like there are, like, two of each of us."

"Can I talk to you? Privately?"

Madison stepped back into the room, opening the door wider. "Come on in, sis."

Madison's word play made Mac more than grateful that she had chosen to do this alone, without the prying eyes of the other two. It was just too personal right at this moment. She stepped in and Madison shut the door, locking and bolting the door behind her.

Having turned back to watch her, Mac queried, "Paranoid a little?"

Madison was facing the door still, palm flat against the white metal door. She pushed away from it and swung around to face her. "What do you care?"

"Hey, it was just a question." Defending herself was stupid. She changed tack. "Do you know your parents are worried sick about you?"

"To which parents are you referring?" Madison asked sardonically, folding her arms across her chest. "The Sinclair's or the Mackenzie's? And are you sure they aren't really just worried about you?"

Not liking her tone, Mac went further back into the room, giving Madison a wide berth. "Veronica and I have been looking for you."

"Oh, of course. Daddy dearest hires daughter dearest. How quaint."

Having had enough, Mac glared at her. "Actually, it was Elizabeth. You should be grateful they even care. Do you have any idea what you've gotten yourself mixed up into?"

With that, Madison seemed to deflate. The angry aura she had been exuding disappeared as she sunk to the edge of the bed, bringing her hands to her head, staring at the floor. "Do you know what I've gotten myself mixed into?" she snarked back instead of answering.

In answer to her question, Mac answered, "We know you ran off to meet your little lover-boy. We know that he's in cahoots with Patrick Muldoon. We know that they're pilfering money from various businesses, and we know that you supplied Mark Tennison with the passwords and account information for the Ten." She paused.

The deflation was slowing re-inflating, Mac noticed. Madison flipped her hair back, a spark of anger in her eye. "First of all, Mark is not my lover. He never was and he never will be. Second of all, I don't have to justify my reasons to you, of all people."

"Madison…" Mac was trying hard to stay calm. Finally, she asked her, "How long have you known about the switch?"

Snidely, the other woman answered, "Long enough."

"So when your parents…er...when your family told you last month, or whenever, did you already know about it?" Mac countered back.

"Yes. I've always known…something. They told me early on that I was adopted, but left it at that. I found out the whole truth the first year of Hearst." Nervously, Madison eyed the door. "What about you?"

Reluctantly Mac answered, "I hired Veronica in high school. Found out then."

Nodding silently, Madison began tensely picking at her nails. "So I'm surprised you didn't dump your trailer-trash life-style for an 09er-status. Of course, I guess the draw to slummin' it was too great, huh?"

Mac felt the beginnings of true annoyance. "You shut up. You have no idea, so just shut the hell up. Don't you even want to know about your blood brother? Because I can tell you, Madison, that finding out about Lauren all those years ago almost made me trade in my 'trailer-trash life-style' in for an upgrade, Sinclair-style. And I can also tell you, that the draw of my brother," she formed the words slowly, to make them sink into the blond's thick skull, "your brother, has kept me right where I'm at, and will keep me there. That and the fact Sam and Natalie are the best parents in the world, make me wonder that if you knew what you were missing, you would be 'down-grading' your ass so fast your friends would be calling you Cindy Mackenzie. So don't you assume that just because yours was a life of privilege that it was any better than what you could have had on the other side. You're the one that should have the Postcode Envy." During this little tirade, Mac felt her phone vibrate. Taking a moment to compose herself, she quickly read the text. "Now, if you don't mind, Miss. Shelby D. Marcus, the FBI is on their way and they will be questioning you about your involvement with the aforementioned Mark Tennison and Patrick Muldoon. Veronica is on her way down."

There was a knock on the door. "Speak of the devil." Madison looked toward it fearfully, but Mac, who had had enough of her bitchy-little-scared-doe act, stomped over, unbolted the door and opened it. "Veroni—"

"Well, well, who is this little extra piece of candy we got here?" A dangerously deep voice came from the doorway and Mac froze, shocked to realize that it was not in fact her friend.

She panicked. The man who stood there was well over six-foot, and bulky, built like a tree-trunk, dressed in a fancy tailored suit. He pushed through the door she tried in futility to jam shut. His big stump of a foot had immediately stepped into the frame to prevent the door from closing. Why, oh, why did she open the door without looking through the peep-hole? Mac looked back to where Madison had jumped up and was now attempting to smash herself as far between the furthest bed and the wall, trying to make herself invisible.

The man merely laughed at her attempt. "You want to play some games, do ya?" He pulled out a cell phone and punched in a number, watching them both in wicked amusement. Into the phone he said, "Boss. There's two of them in here. Maybe that's why this sweet thing won't give you none. She's a lesbo." Listening for moment, the man eyed Mac. He laughed, the noise uncoiling from the base of his throat, reverberating off the walls of the room eerily. "Yeah, okay. I think we'll need another. This one's little too." He ended the call. "Hey, little Maddie," he called in a sing-song voice over to Madison, who was mewling like a wounded animal, "If we take your girlfriend here with you and take her nails off. One. By. One." he paused for effect, "Do you think you'll tell us where you put the money and the stash? Huh? Because Mr. Markie-Mark, he's not a happy camper, no-sir-ee."

The guy was leering over both of them, Madison in the back corner, Mac now pushed against the bed,and there was no way she was about to fall back onto it. Her brain was tumbling through all her defense courses, and God, she was a frakking idiot because she had left her gun in the car since they had decided they were anonymous at this damn hotel, but apparently not. Her body wouldn't respond; fleetingly she realized maybe it was a good thing because the guy was so huge he would probably snap her in two if she so much as attempted to sneeze at him.

Her only defense was a good offense at this point in the game. Mac could feel her phone digging into her thigh. She wondered if there would be any way she could pull it out to call Veronica or Dick for help. There were so many times when she had bypassed her security screen on her phone when she wasn't actually looking at it, she figured she just might be able to do it.

Tree-trunk's eyes were on Madison, ogling her. He was still in front of Mac but not especially paying attention to her, thank goodness. Ever so slowly Mac brought her hand to her face, as if in fear, which was not really a hoax because she really was fearful.

His eye caught her movement and she was grateful she hadn't gone straight for the phone first. His over-sized lips opened to reveal yellowing nasty teeth as he looked her up and down, "You're dressed just for the occasion I see." He tipped his head back to peer at Madison. "Quit your sniveling and get your ass over here. You don't want to see the way I play if you don't do what I ask." He looked around the room, his eye catching on a small suitcase. "Tsk, tsk, Maddie. Where did you think you were going without your convoy?"

Hanging the phone up, Veronica clutched it tightly. She stood up and headed out of the bedroom and back to the common area of the suite. Dick was sitting on the couch, abnormally quiet and staring at his hands. Glancing around, she asked, "Where's Mac?"

"She forgot something in the car, I guess, but she should be back soon when she realizes I have the keys."

"Huh. Okay." She took her phone out to shoot a text out to Mac: Local Feds on way. Going to Madison next. "I need to call Dad."

Five minutes later, Veronica hung the phone up slowly. Eyeing Dick, she looked at the time on her phone, mentally counting back. "Dick, how long has Mac been gone?"

"Uh, it's been a little while I guess, why?"

"Come with me? I have a feeling she went to find Madison on her own."

He stood. "Why would she have done that?"

"Trust me, she has her reasons."

"Care to enlighten me about what's with your clever little avoidance tactics? You and Mackie seem to have an unspoken agreement to keep me in the dark here, what's her deal with this case? She's spooked." He headed to the door, jingling change in his pocket with his good hand. "I might not seem so smart but, fuck, I'd have to be blind to not notice something is up."

She followed him out of the room. "Dad says its room 319." Veronica moved purposely toward the elevator. "The Feds are on their way, we need to meet them up here in about an hour and a half. It should give us enough time to get Madison up here with us. They might have to wait a bit, but they already know it."

Into the elevator they went, Dick pushing the correct button. "Are you going to answer my question?"

Watching the lights above the elevator's door, Veronica swallowed. "No, I'm not. Ask Mac. It's her business to tell." The elevator binged and the doors opened slowly. She stepped out. "Look, Dick, I don't know what's really going on between the two of you, and honestly, that's your business. I've expressed my reservations and I'm done. But I refuse to give you information that Mac isn't ready to impart. All I can say is that she is more involved than you know. Just be patient."

They made their way down the hall towards room 319. It was down the hallway and to the right, down another hall. Veronica breezed past Dick to get there quicker. But as she turned the corner, she saw something suspicious lying on the ground directly in front of Room 319. Bending down she picked the small item up to examine it. "This is a zip drive. It has Mac's initials on it." She looked up at the door. "Something's not right." Standing up straight, she knocked roughly on the cold metal door. "Madison, open up if you're in there!" She kept pounding. "Seriously, open the door!"

Dick was staring down the hallway, where it ended at the door to the emergency exit and stairway. She followed his gaze and her heart stopped for a beat. Sitting on the ground was Mac's phone.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! Thanks for all of your support...