A/N: Sometime you just have to jump. So this is a jump and roll kind of chapter. I'm pressing post and moving on. Rated T for language.(Should I just say there is a disclaimer that if Dick is in the chapter, there will be language. LOL

Thank you for all of the kind comments and reviews. I really appreciate it.

Chapter 26-

Exhausted, all four Neptunians piled into the Presidential Suite at the Palisade. Their harrowing experience had ended at the gate when a pile of men in dark suits had swarmed their car and the vehicle behind them. Arms in the air, Veronica and Dick had directly exited the front seats while she had called out who they were and explaining as quickly as possible that there were two passengers hiding in the back of the SUV that had narrowly escaped being kidnapped with their lives. She had quickly pointed out that the vehicle stopped behind them were the aggressors in the situation which had been verified almost immediately.

The SUV behind them had produced both Mark Tennison and the blocky, tree-trunk reincarnate named Ben, who turned out to be another McDougal cousin. The FBI had taken them straight into custody when Mac and Madison had both identified Ben as their attacker and a quick search of the cab had yielded some very illegal-looking guns.

It was a whirlwind of explanations, questions, and more explanations. Veronica had sought out the agent she had spoken to earlier in the day, producing both her and Mac's PI badges, getting out of their very sticky situation with a lot of name-dropping of people she knew in D.C. from the internship she had been a part of the summer after Hearst. For the most part it worked.

There were a lot of questions that the FBI had demanded answers to. When they had finally realized that half of their group were victims, the suits had taken pity on them all and escorted them back to the Palisade, threatening that they were not allowed to leave the hotel without finishing up their investigation, which would take place the next morning. To emphasize their point, the FBI posted a guard at their door. They were unofficially under house arrest.

Mac had no interest in anything except a decent meal and bed. And maybe a nice long shower before all of that. A snuggle with Dick in the covers sounded appealing as well. There would be time for explanations to the FBI in the morning when they were fresh and reenergized. But as soon as they shut and locked the door, leaving the guard on the other side, Veronica turned around with a determined look on her face to stare at Madison, who was still dressed in her rumpled and torn leggings and blouse, hair askew with debris and leaves from their last hike through the woods to the car.

Visibly wilting under Veronica's scrutinizing stare, Madison met her gaze timidly. But as the stare continued with no comment, Mac could see Madison straightening her back, eyes flashing, readying herself for battle.

The air-conditioner had been running non-stop the entire time they had been gone. Veronica felt the abnormal chill in the air, crossing her arms to combat the deep chill that was hitting her. Madison stood about ten feet from her, ragged and weary, but Veronica was unwilling to leave her questioning until morning.

She cleared her throat. "Twenty questions time." Stepping away from the door, she amended, "Pretty sure that there will be more than twenty, though."

Madison, in a defensive gesture, folded her arms across herself and turned around, head down. "What do you want to know, Veronica Mars?"

"For having just saved your life, Madison, you sure sound ungrateful." When Madison didn't respond, Veronica continued, demanding, "I want to know why you were kidnapped by your lover's minion and why you are even in Utah in the first place." The emphatic shake of Madison's head paused Veronica's verbal assault. She dropped her arms. She softened her tone. "The FBI is going to charge you, Madison; you know that, don't you? There's not a lot of room to play the innocent victim when we…Mars Investigations, I mean, has found pretty undeniable proof of your cooperation. Of your participation. It won't be easy to Patty Hearst your way out of this one." She stepped closer and stopped. "You need to tell us the whole story, maybe there's a way for you to cut a deal with the Feds." Still no response. She tried another tack. "Your family is worried, Madison. Whatever happens here, it would be nice for us to be able to give them an explanation. You might not be able to go home for a while."

Madison had made her way to the window. Looking out, she said over her shoulder, "I can't go back, they won't let me. And mom and dad, well," she swung around, eyes on Mac, "Well, you can just take my place, right? They won't even miss me with you there."

"Madison…" Mac said warningly, her eyes slipping to Dick who sat on the edge of the couch listening to every word.

Madison's eyes tracked with Mac's and she laughed. "Oh, that's rich, Cindy. Lover-boy here doesn't even know?"

"Madison, let it alone," Veronica interrupted, stepping between the two women. "That is really none of your business right now. It's the last thing you need to be worried about. We need to concentrate on what's happened the last week and a half, Madison, with Patrick Muldoon and Mark Tennison."

Sneering, Madison responded, saying, "You say it's none of my business, but I say it's totally my business. Cindy Mackenzie is stealing my life, it's like she's making up for lost time, starting high school all over by taking my sloppy seconds and working her way forward." She snickered. "Who's next, Cindy? Logan Echolls?"

A hush fell over the room. Veronica felt like she'd been punched straight into the gut as all the air went out of her. The room faded in and out of her vision. She felt her fingers forming fists. "Ok, where is a good place to hide a body?"

"Ladies, ladies, ladies!" Dick jumped between them. "I don't know what the deal-io is here, but I prefer my cat-fights in mud or at least with wet-t-shirts on. Everyone just freakin' calm down!"

"That was a damn low blow, Madison." Mac said quietly. "But I'd appreciate it if you would just leave me out of this right now. And quit torturing everyone else in the room with your not-so-subtle attempts to take the attention off of yourself."

Dick was watching this exchange, his hands extended between the two angriest women. He looked like a bobble-head, head bouncing back and forth between the three of them, waiting to see if World War Three was about to erupt. Veronica gave in first, putting her hands up defensively, tipping her head.

"Madison, we should just call a truce for now. There is no love lost between us, we both know that. The FBI won't want to listen to our antics, so we might as well set aside our differences right now, get you out of this mess and get you home. If you don't want to work with me, that's fine, I'll walk away from you right now and you can hope to come up with a solid defense on your own." Dropping her hands at her side, she finished, "or…if you can cease with your little jabs, I might be inclined to help you. I've been paid by your family to find you…to bring you home. I think the least you could do is give us and them some answers."

Before Madison could answer, there was a tap on the door. Dick stepped toward the door, eyes still on the women. When he was satisfied that none would attack the other, he put his eye to the peephole, stepped back and unlocked the door, opening it to reveal a short, sober looking FBI agent that held the handle to a suitcase that was on rollers on the ground. The agent rolled it toward Dick. "This was everything in Ms. Sinclair's, aka, Ms. Shelby Marcus' room."

Taking the handle, Dick shut the door in the agent's face and turned back to the others. "Here's your shit, Maddie. Maybe you should go find your game face in there." He sauntered over to where she stood looking out the window and set the suitcase next to her. "There are about fifty different showers to choose from in here. Why don't you wash off the bitch and put on the Stepford. I always liked that best on you."

She whipped around to glare at him. "What are you even doing here, Dick? I don't have to listen to a word that comes out of your filthy mouth."

Dick's mouth turned up in his signature sneer. "Ah, Mads, I heard how you were concerned about me, but to hear it from your lips is a sight to behold. Really, since when did you start caring so much?"

Pushing past him, Madison knocked into his shoulder and stomped closer to the entertainment console. "Who says its concern?" She looked at Mac, "You know why he's after you, right? Dick Sr. taught him all his ways. He probably thinks he can Stepford you, now, since he's found the true off-spring of Mommy-dearest."

"What is your problem, Madison?" Veronica asked, interrupting her verbal attack towards Mac. "Mac is just as much the victim in all of that as you are. Yell at the Older Macs, but, God, you are assuming a damn lot that she's willingly taken your place all of a sudden. Seems to me that the place you held wasn't so great, so who in their right mind would want that? You've turned out so chipper in your old age, wow, yeah, I think we're all jealous of that." She turned to Mac. "Why don't you go take a shower? The Feds said we could order in or go down to the in-house restaurant. Maybe you and Dick should go have dinner and I'll order some room-service for me and Miss Grateful over here. Maybe over a quiet dinner we can all calm down a little."

Veronica stepped out into the hallway and spoke to the guard about their plans for dinner. The guard, who was named Paul, had called for back up to escort the two down to the restaurant so that he himself could continue manning their door. Although it pained her to think that they were basically imprisoned, she was appreciative with the thought that they were protected from outside forces. The FBI might not see it quite in same way. But after the day that they'd had, Veronica was taking no chances at letting her guard down. She thanked Paul and stepped back into the room where Mac had come out from taking her shower and changing her clothes. She had given her room up to Madison and taken her bags into Veronica's room while Dick had excused himself to change in his appointed room.

Now it was just Veronica and Mac in the living room area. Mac had dressed in a black travel dress and black flats. Veronica smiled. "You look ready for a date."

Mac rolled her eyes. "You know as well as I do that travelling light is the name of the game with carry-ons."

Stepping closer, Veronica replied, "There's nothing wrong with saying you're going on a date with Dick."

"Now you like him?"

Veronica looked over to the closed door of Dick's room and then back at her friend. "You should have seen how agitated he was when he realized what had happened. I like that he likes you enough to take a bullet for you. I don't have to actually like the guy."

Mac bit her lip. She put a hand to her neck, rubbing herself as if to work out a kink. "If you would have told me twelve hours ago that I would be going on a date two hours after have escaped the clutches of a kidnapper, I would have laughed in your face at the absurdity of it all. But this is fact, I'm about to have dinner, alone, with Dick Casablancas." She paused in her massaging. "And you like him, admit it."

"Yeah, I like him. Like I like a thorn in my side." When Mac gave her a look of disbelief, Veronica put a hand up. "Well, don't tell him at least. We have a good working relationship how it is, quips and all."

The door to Dick's room opened and he stepped out, hair freshly washed and combed back, wearing clean jeans and a collared shirt, flip-flops on his feet. He pointed to them, tapping them on the floor, Duckie-style. "Hopefully it's not a suit and tie type of place."

The ride down the elevator was silent. Mostly because there was a stoic-looking Fed, the same squatty one who had brought the suitcase up, standing behind them, staring at the numbers lighting up as they descended. As they had stepped into the hallway from the room, both agents had warned them that to attempt to escape would be unwise and that there would be repercussions. Neither Dick nor Mac had questioned the warning.

Now they were being led into the empty restaurant. The agent took a seat at the bar, swiveling the chair to keep a watch on them. It was late but not as late as it could be or felt like. In a corner at the back was an older man with a guitar, lightly strumming it. He looked bored as there were no patrons until Mac and Dick had walked in. The hostess sat them down at a booth and handed them each their menus. Being almost midnight, it was late for dinner but they were starved and Mac had been a little desperate to get out of Madison's wrath path.

Dick opened his menu and peered over it, eyeing her. "I feel like you should order everything on the whole menu and charge it to Room 319. See if Maddie even notices." He quirked his eyebrows up and down. "Maybe Markie-boy won't notice."

"Seeing as he's in federal custody he probably won't notice at least for a little while. And we know Madison's not footing the bill, so she's not spilling." Mac said as she opened hers. "The least we could do is order the most expensive thing, huh?"

"Maybe the Feebs will buy, since they're the reason we have to stay tonight."

"Well, one thing is for sure, someone has to pay for it, and it most likely won't be us, right? Get whatever you want, MI will buy and charge it to a client. Keith will just have to toss a coin to decide which one."

The waiter interrupted then, offering water and giving them a patient smile when they said they needed a few more minutes. Alone again, Dick chose again to stare over his menu at Mac while she perused hers.

With effort, Mac read each item slowly. She kept her eyes down, refusing to give into the temptation to stare back. Her stomach growled and she felt herself smile. Finally, she said, "You better decide what you want before the waiter comes back because he will be pissed if you still haven't chosen. It's late," she reminded him, "I bet they all want to go home."

"I already know what I want," Dick told her still without looking at the menu. "Food is just second best to what I prefer."

Her eyes met his, and she felt the heat there. She swallowed. "Well, they offer a few items that actually sound good to this vegan-girl. I think I'll just order Veronica a sandwich, and I don't know, what would Madison like? You know her the best out of all of us."

"Order her whatever, like I care. Make sure it's something super greasy and full of calories. She'd know I sent it up with love to her thighs. And her gut."

The waiter was back. They made an order, Mac a vegan-friendly wrap and Dick a medium-rare steak with a request for two sandwiches to be delivered to their room for the others that remained, and once again, they were alone at their table while they waited for the order to be made.

The guitarist seemed to have come alive now that there were people in his presence and he had started to sing along with his strumming. There was a microphone on a stand in front of him and he was crooning into it loudly.

Mac winced. "Wow." She turned to watch the entertainer. "There aren't words to describe how much I'm not enjoying this."

Dick had become entranced as well. "I feel a little like I'm watching a train wreck that has yet to happen. Can't keep my eyes off it."

The singer noticed their attention as he came to an end of a song. He grinned over to them. "Well, hello! It's so good that you could join us tonight! Do you have any favorites that I could put a spin on for ya? I know it all, from oldies to new, country to rock, you choose!"

Neither of them responded. Mac awkwardly took a gulp of water while Dick turned away from him, eyes widening in "Oh Crap he caught us!" kind of way as he adjusted in his seat to face the table and Mac.

The singer kept talking. "So I've been here all night, it's been a little slow."

Dick mouthed, "Ya think?"

"I like my crowd involved, you know?" The performer bent down to the ground, where Mac had just noticed a trunk sitting near his feet. He pulled out some small, cheesy looking maracas, tambourines, and baby-sized drums. Straightening, he strode over to their table and the instruments down and gestured to them. "Here, when I start the next song, I want you to help with the beat, all right?"

Taking up a maraca, Mac turned it in her hands and looked over to where the old hippie of a man had settled himself back onto a stool and began strumming once again on his guitar. He leaned into the microphone, as if they wouldn't have been able to hear him without it, and announced, "This is one of my favs. Brings me back to the good ol' days of my youth. It's called Low Rider." He then looked over at them specifically and winked. "My background beat, if you will." His strumming began and as Dick and Mac just stared at him, his eyes frozen on them, willing them to participate.

"Is this really happening?" Mac said with a laugh. "I thought this was supposed to be relaxing. The guy is stressing me out with his expectations."

Dick grabbed the mini drum and began banging on it off-tempo. He leaned into each beat of his hand, really getting into it. His faced grimaced in concentration. "Maybe if I really suck, he'll demand his stuff back."

"That'd be too easy." Mac's lips twitched from the unfortunate choice of songs. The words were familiar but the music was completely unnatural and just sounded wrong. She shook the maraca in her hand. "I'd be happier if we could have a decent conversation."

The song was finally wrapping up and as the last chords were strummed, Mac vigorously shook the maraca and yelled out, "Yeah!" in celebration that it was over.

The singer took this as approval and he started into the next song, a rendition of Hound Dogthat had to have Elvis rolling in his grave. Mac gave him a dirty-ish look and set the maraca on the ground. She did the same with the other instruments that cluttered up their table.

Dick was staring at the train wreck, elbow on the table, head propped in his hand. The waiter had been by to drop off a basket of bread, and Dick was aimlessly picking at it with his free hand, lightly nibbling. Mac's mind jumped to a rather naughty thought of what else he could be nibbling at and that perhaps he would prefer it.

She was silent for a few minutes, taking in his form. Impressed by his tolerance of the 'entertainment' and that he hadn't started to complain to the management, Mac could see how patient a person he really was. There had been dates she'd been on with other men who would complain, and loudly, when even a water glass was too empty. Dick's water glass was getting there, and, really, the entertainment sucked, and he was calmly waiting for it to end on its own. No complaint in sight. She smiled.

She'd come to a decision during the elevator ride down. Staring at the door, waiting for it to open, she began thinking about the past twenty-four hours, hell, more like seven days, and had known there was no way to shield or sugar coat the truth about who she really was anymore. Dick had to know, and she wanted it to come from her and not Madison, who had all but blurted the truth out as it was. There was no more time to be found to keep it from him. He needed to know, and now was the time.

He caught her smile from the corner of his eye and he turned his attention back to her. "What are you thinking?"

"That I wish we could get out of here—but it's so late and Veronica needs the room to talk to Madison, and the feds won't let us leave…I don't know, I wish we could have this conversation somewhere else."

Just then the waiter came with their order. He set them down; leaning close so only they could hear. "How does everything look?"

Both of their eyes flashed to where their entertainer was now strumming a Beatles classic. "He said he knew old and new. When he said new, did he mean this year or more like 1976?" Dick asked. "I mean, by the looks of him, I'm not sure if he knows much past things like James Brown and Otis Redding."

The waiter laughed. "He's the cook's dad, he comes in on slow nights, tries to bring in crowds for us." The waiter looked around at all of the empty tables. "It's been exceptionally slow tonight." In a lower voice, he told them, "We usually have better entertainment on the weekends. You should come back tomorrow; we'll have a DJ and dancing."

Making a face that Mac hoped looked like regret, she told him, "Oh, I think we're flying home tomorrow. Too bad."

When the waiter left, the two turned to their food and it was silent between them, minus the 'background' music. They enjoyed their food, Dick had ordered them each a beer to help relax their stress, and he guzzled his while she sipped hers.

Eventually their ravenous state slowed and Mac sat back in her chair to survey him. He swallowed a bite and smiled. "What?"

"Remember how you asked about deep-dark secrets this morning?"

"You mean you're admitting now to your fetish with large animals?" He teased, taking a sip of his beer. "I mean, hell, I finally admitted it to ya."

She smirked. "I wasn't too surprised about that admission. She's still quite the cow, though; I can see why your tastes have changed. I never understood it before, though, what attracts men to human cows."

"All the free milk, I suppose. But it eventually made me lactose intolerant."

A short bark of a laugh escaped her. "Is that what happened."

His tone turned serious. "Are you going to tell me why this all happened today? Like what the hell you were thinking, going down to Madison's room by yourself? You could have been killed, Mac, and for what? To talk to Madison first, before anyone else? I mean, seriously, what was that all about?"

"Well," Mac said, toying with her beer mug. She closed her eyes. "It has a little something to do with that deep-dark secret I didn't tell you about earlier."

Dick sat back. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head, he was thinking so hard. She could see him trying to piece together exactly what she was saying. "Wait, there's no way that you are…Madison's secret lover, right? I mean, Dr. Evil back there didn't have the story right about that part, did he?"

Rolling her eyes, Mac blew out an exasperated sigh. "Count it on a man to always go that route. Deep-dark secrets always must be about sexual fetishes, right?" Her eyes focused on his face. "I'm just gonna say it, all right? So listen the hell up."

Dick's expression sobered and he nodded.

"Okay. Here it goes." She stared down at her hands for a moment and then looked back up to him. "Back in high school, I found out something about myself and Madison that had potential to change both of our lives forever, but I never acted on it, not really, but when she went missing, the whole thing kind of just blew out of proportion and there has been no way to avoid it anymore." Uncharacteristically quiet, Dick nodded for her to go on. "Okay, I'm pulling the Band-Aid off. Ya ready?"

As she opened her mouth, the singer finished his latest song and called out into the speaker, "Do you have any requests out there? Anything at all?"

Dick's widened in annoyance. "Holy fuck, is there any duct tape around here? I'm gonna bind that guy's mouth shut." His impatience to hear her story overrode everything else and he turned to glare at the guy, calling out to him, "Look, we're having a serious conversation over here, can you just cool it?" When the singer put his hands up in apology, Dick backed down a little, "Dude, I'm sorry, you're great and all…."

But the man took the hint, setting his guitar against the wall, heading to the back, muttering over his shoulder that he'd take a ten minute break.

Dick looked back at her, a flash of awkward embarrassment on his face which he quickly hid with a shrug. "Go on."

Taking a sip of her beer, Mac let the ale settle on her tongue before swallowing it down. "The truth is, well, I know you said you knew that Madison was adopted, right? Well, the fact is, I am too, pretty much."

Dick's eyebrows knit together. "So…you're saying…"

"What I'm saying is…well, the truth is that Madison and I were switched at birth and went home with the wrong families." Mac rushed out as her stomach churned horribly, "The day I was born, my birth parents named me…Madison Sinclair." She met his eyes. Weakly she said, "Surprise?"

Dick's face had gone from attentively listening to white with shock to a slightly green tinge of incredulous nausea. Idly, Mac was reminded of the moment that Veronica had revealed the information to her in high school. She wouldn't be surprised if she had worn the exact expression Dick was wearing now. He blinked rapidly. "What the fuck kind of episode of Twilight Zone are you playing at here?"

When she didn't say anything to contradict herself, Dick sat back in his chair running a hand over his face. "Holy shit, you're serious?"

"As serious as I can get."

"I…basically, I have no words. And that doesn't happen to me very often." His eyes took in her guarded expression. "That…explains a lot, actually. Well, that's not the worst news, is it? That means that what, you're…uh, Lauren's sis? She's a great kid. That's cool. I always really liked Madison's fam. Now I know why."

She laughed, relieved by his reaction. "You're such a kiss-ass." She tried to read what he was thinking, but felt like she was failing miserably. "It really isn't freaking you out thinking that it should have been me all those years ago that you were with?"

To his credit, he didn't actually laugh in her face. Instead he covered the laugh with a cough. "I think that the kinks have kind of just worked out that I'm with you anyway, right? I wouldn't have been able to handle you all those years ago, Mac, no matter who you were or who you were supposed to be, so what did you think this revelation was going to do to me besides tell you I'll help you through the tough parts of it. Which I'm assuming you've been dealing with on top of all this other shit that's been going on this week. How the hell have you managed?"

There were tears threatening to surface. She could feel it, was fighting it, and was failing horrendously at her attempt. The tears spilled down her cheeks and she wiped them away, embarrassed, eyes glued to her half-eaten wrap.

"Hey," Dick said, his hands reaching across to take a hold of hers, his head dipping down to try to catch her eye. Softly he told her, "No wonder you've been a wreck, Mackie. God, I wish I could just wrap you up, you know that, don't you?"

Not for the first time this week, Mac was caught off-guard at how soft and kind Dick could be when he wasn't trying to be an ass-hat, and when it was mostly just her in his presence. Her heart, full from his noble gesture of bursting through that cabin door, of his all-consuming kiss, of his hand in hers, squeezing into her his reassurance, overtook her ability at even pretending to contain her emotions. She let out a sob as she realized…she'd more than just fell. She was all in with him. And she wasn't scared anymore. It didn't matter what Veronica thought, or what the Sinclair's would say, or what even Dick himself would say, because the look in his eye was enough. She could see it there, written plain as day. He was right there with her.

Mac let his fingers thread into hers. She drew circles with her thumbs against his skin, wishing that they were truly alone and not in a crappy hotel restaurant with an FBI agent peeking his head back to stare at them from his stool at the bar. She wished they were home, in Neptune, where she could invite him back to her apartment and invite him into her room and into her bed. Because she could see and feel where this was going tonight. And it wasn't alone to an empty bed.

Veronica sat patiently waiting for her charge to come out of Mac's room , refreshed and ready for the battle that was ahead. Mac and Dick had left about ten minutes before and Veronica had just peeked out the peep hole to see that Paul still stood guard for the night. Her phone beeped signaling an incoming email, checking it, her heart stopped for a moment. It was from Logan. He was back from his mission two days early and wanted to Skype three hours from now. She checked the time and sent him back a quick email back, not really knowing if he would get it, but determined to be there when he Skyped her later.

She was still staring at the words of his email when she heard the rustling of feet from the other side of the door and Madison swung the door open, purposely stepping out in shorts and a tank for bed, her feet bare. She looked around the room, taking in the fact that Mac and Dick were not there, her eyes settling on Veronica. She waited.

Not for long, as Veronica asked, "Have a nice shower?" Still fiddling with her phone, she scrolled through and turned on her voice recording app.

"Yes, thank you," Madison said primly, making her way to a recliner. She sat down. "So I guess this is inquisition time, huh, Veronica?"

"I just want to preface this little conversation that I would not be here if it weren't for the fact that I am being paid to do so. Will you try to be civil to me so that we can get through this without throwing each other out the window?"

Squirming in her chair, Madison answered with a slight nod.

Veronica rolled her eyes. This girl seriously needed a lesson on appreciation. "Okay, can you at least tell me what got you to disappear from Neptune and here to Utah in the first place?"

She was pleased to see that Madison at least had the grace to look ashamed. "It was for Lauren, I swear. She's been so sick and Dad lost his job…I don't know, I've been stressed."

"Madison." Veronica's tone was quiet. "I get that, we've figured that much out. But don't your parents have a cushion for this sort of thing? I mean, you were part of the "it" crowd, and always had the nicest of everything…doesn't that mean your family had money?"

"We liked people to think that, yeah."

Food for thought, Veronica thought. She tucked that away. "So you found out that Lauren was going to need expensive treatment and thought what? That your boyfriend wouldn't mind if you skimmed off the top of his side business of skimming off the top of various businesses?"

"It wasn't like that, I swear! And Mark's gross, I wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole."

Veronica sighed with doubt. "I have an email from you to Shelley Pomroy saying exactly the opposite of that. That you were considering it to be able to put out donation jars at the Ten. So why don't you start telling me the truth?"

Madison stilled with that news. She began fidgeting, fingers picking her fingernails. "When I wrote that, I was upset about a lot of things. Mom and Dad had finally come clean about the Mackenzie's, which I found out about forever ago, but the way they told me…just set me off. I mean, god, I have a whole other family and they never had the decency to tell me about them until they needed something from them. God, it just made me so mad, thinking about it. I didn't handle it well, I told them I was grateful that there was no way I could help because I didn't want to help them. Lauren was a different story, and she knows I would just about anything I could for her…but my parents, they were being so selfish."

"Selfish? Trying to cure their daughter?"

Madison shook her head, still staring at her fingers. "You weren't there, Veronica, so don't sound so condescending. You have no idea how it made me feel, them finally admitting the truth and knowing the only reason was because a health crisis had forced their hand. It made me feel about this," she pinched her fingers together for effect, "small. The fact that they never wanted me to meet my birth parents, and suddenly, ooh, Lauren is sick, Madison can meet them now, because we need something from them. How was I supposed to react? And then it comes out that Lauren didn't need a donor, and I was glad I didn't have to choose. Just like the cowards my parents were, I guess. They raised me."

Veronica could hear the self-loathing in Madison's voice. Before she could say anything, Madison continued with her story.

"So during all this, Rick is becoming a total tool and so I break it off with him. I go to work one day, and Mark's there, working out. He's a giant slime himself, but he starts asking all these questions and the whole money thing comes out. He says, oh, he wishes he had more to do with the scheduling, and he would get me more hours. That the private lessons with the stars on-set thing should be picking up but until then, he wished there was more he could do. But he leaves me alone for a few days…a week at the most. I don't remember anymore." She swallowed. "Then he comes up to me and asks if he could guarantee me X amount of money, would I be willing to get him some information for him from the back office. Because apparently he's been banned from back there, but he's trying to prove to his family that he can handle the money part, but they don't believe it. He says he'd give me 20% of his earnings, and I guess I was desperate, or low, or something, but I agreed to do it. He wants me to get the keys from Candy's desk, go to the back, get the backup tapes and some password stuff and then meet him for a relaxing weekend up at what he called his 'plush summer cabin.' He said that by Sunday evening, everything would be set and I would be on my way home by Monday morning, money in the bank, no problem."

"And you just believed him?" Veronica asked, dubious.

"Well, I don't know if I honestly believed him, but we're talking a lot of money, money that I could have used. It made me not think too hard about how exactly it would work out."

Still unimpressed, Veronica nodded her head. "Go on."

"So we have it all planned out, and I've kind of…led him on a little, making him think I'll get with him when I get up here, I mean, I kind of had talked myself into doing it once…just as a thank you or something…because he went through a lot to get me a car and plan all this out, and all I had done was—"

Veronica held a hand up. "You don't need to explain that. Please."

Nodding, Madison moved on. "So I take all the stuff he wanted, it's all planned down to the day and time…and he wants me to meet a driver at like two. Mom calls that week and she wants to do lunch that same day of course, to talk about Lauren, so I knew that I wouldn't have much time, but I could at least just hear about how she's doing, since I've been hardly with them…I met mom at noon, we talked for about ten minutes and then I left…before we even had ordered."

"You really scared your mom with that act, Madison. She came to us the next day, convinced that you had met with foul-play."

"Mom's always been a little on the dramatic side."

"I say her intuition was spot-on, actually."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask, so keep your opinions to yourself."

Veronica raised her hands. "Fine. Fine. Carry on, please."

"I drove my car to a parking garage and meet a chauffeur who took my keys and all my things—ID, phone, stuff like that, and he does something with them. He gives me a wallet filled with money—a thousand dollars or less, I don't know—and an ID with the name Shelby Marcus. He brings me to a car that Mark has prepared for me, and gives me the address where to meet Mark up here. So I leave as promised, at two in the afternoon, and am on the road all that day, stopping in Vegas for the night, and the next day I got up to that hell-hole of a cabin."

"So what happened then?"

"I showed up and I got freaked out, I'm seeing guns and drugs and it freaks me out, but I play it all cool like, saying that the bugs and the air and all the stuff up there is just, like, too much for me. Mark feels all bad and gets me a room at the Palisade under the false name, he has all these connections, I guess, and it works. No one knows I'm there. For a few days, I guess, till today, when Mac came knocking."

"So you didn't have to sleep with him?"

"No," Madison's answered came as a sigh, "No, I got past that when he got me the room here. He had all their set up there at the cabin, and he's running around, playing the salesman for the diet company his mom runs, so he never got that from me. He tells me it's going to take longer than expected to get the money, because he's been so busy with his actual job. I'm stuck here, I have nothing in my actual name, all I have is a charge account to the room, a fake ID, a fake credit card, and barely enough cash to do anything but wait. He's promised a shitload of money, and I thought, well, if I play it cool, I can get the money and get out of here. But then Tuesday night, there's a knock at my door, and it's Ben, who I knew was up here with Mark, and Rick, of all people. They tell me that the passwords aren't working and they think I kept them to get the money for myself." She looked up. "I know nothing about computers and hacking. Wrong Madison, I guess. They're pissed and giving me ultimatums and I'm thinking, how the hell do I get out of here, because, god, Rick is here, and I didn't even know they knew each other!"

"So what did you do then?"

Madison shrugged. "I went down to the in-house salon and clothing boutique, charged what I could and returned what I could to get cash. I used the credit card to get an advance of as much cash as I could, which I had been doing the minute I was alone here, because after I saw the cabin, I realized I maybe needed a cushion in case I needed to run. Every meal I charged I would get a little cash back and even found an ATM that let me draw some money out each day."

"So you were saving up to disappear?"

"You could say that. I couldn't call my parents because I knew Mark would have checked there first, I couldn't tell them what I've done. I don't want them to lie for me. I didn't want Mark to use them as leverage, so I wanted them out of it. I planned to disappear so that no one I love is in danger of them, so I just wanted to get somewhere and start over."

"Where did you think you could go? And how were you planning to start over?"

"I have skills, Veronica, which can get me places. I'm not just a pretty face you know," Madison told her with an air of importance. "It's not as if I've never worked for a living. I was ready to disappear for a good long time. Long enough to get out of Mark's cross-hairs."

"Let's say that's true, Madison. How exactly were you going to start over? Your new identity was Shelby Marcus, which was given to you by the person you were running from, and he would have been on the lookout for anything purchased in your name or that name."

"I'd already thought of that, I'm not completely stupid. I siphoned off quite a bit of cash, and I found a person here in the hotel that….that had a car she signed over to me, I was just going to take the gamble of getting where I needed to go without plates. I paid in cash."

Shaking her head, Veronica said, "Car stealing one-oh-one, Madison: take the plates off of one car, put those plates on a similar plated car, and take the second set of plates as your own. Then you at least have plates. If you were going anywhere for very long, you would have been caught within hours without doing that. "

"Well, whatever, it doesn't really even matter now because I'm caught and apparently in the safety of the FBI. I don't need any more tips on how to disappear successfully."

"So tell me what the Castle has to do with all of this." Veronica asked, watching closely at Madison's reaction to the name. She was disappointed to see only confusion.

"The Castle? What do they have to do with anything?"

"Come on, Maddie. Don't play coy. At least tell me about why you thought Dick was in such danger."

"Oh…that. I can only tell you what I know."

Veronica waited. Madison said nothing, so she prompted, "And what you know is…"

Madison put her hands up. "Look, Rick and I dated for a while, I know you know that. I know you…met him at the reunion. He was the one that brought the… entertainment."

Veronica scowled. "You call that entertainment, I call that a direct attack. How's your eye been since the entertainment?" She was satisfied when Madison scowled right back. "I know who Patrick Muldoon is. Tell me more of what you actually know."

"Well, after the reunion, Rick got all obsessed with Dick. "

"Why though? Did he ever say? Did you ever ask?"

"Besides the fact that Dick's fist was the one that knocked Rick out, I really don't know. He talked a lot about Dick Senior, though, about how Dick was just a 'chip off of the old block.' Part of the reason I broke it off with him was because he wouldn't let go of it. He kept talking about how he was going to bring him down, and I got tired of hearing it. I tried to tell him that Dick was nothing like his dad, because, really, if he were, he'd be on wife number eight right now and rich off of everybody else. But Rick wanted blood, at least that's the way I took it, and so I ended things with him."

"Do you know what happened to Dick last week?"

"No, what?" Madison asked with interest.

"He was attacked, Madison, drugged and attacked on the beach on the anniversary of Cassidy's suicide. And we pretty much know that it was Rick's brother Aidan that drugged him. What do you know about that?"

Her mouth opened and shut, opened and shut. "Why would I know anything about that?"

"Because," Veronica said, choosing to keep the fact that Dick was tapped in college out of the conversation, "As of right now, you are the only thing that links Dick to the Muldoon's, and we want to know why. You obviously know more than what you're saying."

"And what exactly do you think I know?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

In exasperation, Madison threw her hands in the air. "Like what, Veronica? I'm telling you everything I know to say."

"What do you know about the Castle?"

"That it's a Hearst thing. Rick was part of it in college. That the group still scratches each other's backs now and then. When they need something, they get it. That kind of stuff."

"What about Mark? Was he part of it?"

"Not that I ever knew. I think he was their gofer at one point, ran errands. I found out this week that they're cousins, he and Rick, and that's why Rick's up here." She looked away. "I think they set me up on purpose or something. I don't understand really what happened, how this happened." She rubbed her hands over her face. "I'm just so tired."

There was a knock on their door and Veronica stood to answer it. She checked in the peep hole to see Room Service delivering the dinner that Mac had ordered for them. She opened the door and let the waiter roll in the cart, digging out a few bills for a tip while he took the covers from the trays. She slipped him the money and he left.

Returning to where the cart sat with two identical looking sandwiches with fries sitting on their own plates, waiting to be consumed. Veronica took a French fry and munched on it. She gestured for Madison to join her. She was surprised at how ravenous she was now that food was in front of her.

They were silent as they both devoured the food in front of them until Veronica, swallowing a bite of her sandwich, said, "I just would like to know what made you so worried about Dick being here."

"It's Patrick that cares. I don't even think Mark knows anything about Dick, as far as I know. Rick has never had anything good to say about Dick or his family. About how crooked they all were, and how they would ruin friendships and alliances for, as Rick called it, 'fast fucks.'" Madison broke a piece of French fry and popped it in her mouth. "I kind of got the impression that's what happened—that Dick slept with someone he shouldn't have. If Rick saw him, he'd shoot first and ask questions later. He would have buried the body and it would have been over."

"Dick ruined an alliance by sleeping with someone he shouldn't have?" Veronica asked, chewing on French fry slowly. "I guess I buy that. But he swears he's got no clue who the Muldoon's are."

"Well, all I know is it was Dick that started it. He slept with someone and swindled some money, and now they're pissed and want his head."