A/N: I have to give credit to my beta, Bond, for the dialogue in the previous chapter along with a little of this chapter, of the announcer's ramblings of the race. She has much more experience in all of that and helped me out immensely. Kudos to you, Bond. Thank you. Thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favorites. They are all appreciated.

Chapter 13 The Chandelier

Mac slowly followed Dick, who was walking along side of Sean, chatting it up. The buzz of the crowd made it impossible for her to hear what they were talking about, but Mac wasn't interested anyway. She pulled her phone out and discreetly checked the beacon tracker. It showed movement that coincided with them so Mac was reassured that Sean did, in fact, still have the money.

Her phone pinged and she swiped to the text that had just come in from Veronica.

Working our way in your direction.

She quickly sent off a reply and stowed the phone back in her purse. It was a relief to know that Veronica wasn't far from them. At least someone was watching their back.

Dick's loud laugh brought her out of her thoughts when he turned to pull her closer to him. His arm wrapped around her shoulders and he told her, "Sean here has complimentary passes into the party today. We don't have to stand in the loser line to get in." He looked over at Sean, who was watching them as they walked. "You're a good guy to know, Seannie Boy."

"Well," Sean said with a sneer on his face that Mac positively hated, "My rule is to take care of those who take care of me. We'll have a lasting relationship of mutual back-scratching, I think. There's a lot more where this came from for a good client."

They rounded the corner to the VIP entrance of The Chandelier Room and Sean pulled passes from his suit jacket. Each of them had to present an arm out to receive a wristband, and then they were in.

The room was an exceptional shade of white that complimented its granduer. There was a sweeping staircase that reminded Mac of something out of a fairy tale, majestic and elaborate. A grand piano sat next to tall windows that opened to a patio overlooking the track. True to its name, The Chandelier Room's crystal chandeliers elegantly hung above them, lighting the room richly. Mac was transfixed.

"Get yourselves a drink," Sean told them, "and have a seat. If you want, go out on the deck and watch the horses. I have…some business to attend to." He turned and was swallowed up by the crowd.

Mac stared after him, surprised at how effectively Sean had just dismissed them. She turned her gape to Dick. "He's got 'business'?" She drew her phone out and swiped through the screens.

***Break***

The minute that Veronica saw the line to get into The Chandelier Room she realized that Logan had been right. It would be harder than she'd thought to wander freely inside and find Sean. The amount of people waiting to be admitted made it clear that this was the place to be and that there was a high probability that Sean had gone there for a reason. Bunk stood next to her in the line while she weighed their options as to what to do next.

As they stood waiting in the line, Veronica kept her eyes peeled each time the door opened to admit the next group inside. Every few minutes, she'd catch a glimpse of Dick and Mac circling around inconspicuously. Dick seemed to be introducing Mac to some other high rollers in the room. At one point, Veronica even spotted Manny, who stood between her friends and the door, looking slightly out of place.

Bunk leaned in and whispered, "You know, they're in there with him."

Her phone pinged.

He just left us in here and is on the move. –Mac

Veronica let that sink in for a moment. She looked around the area and her eyes lit on a familiar form striding past the line and away from the crowd at the Chandelier Room's door.

"Come on," she said urgently, pulling at Bunk's arm. "You're right, they're already in there. And we have bigger fish to fry."

***Break***

They followed Sean down the open corridor and out through an area that they hadn't come down before. Veronica kept her eyes on him and followed as far back as she dared, wishing she could be closer to ensure they wouldn't lose him.

A ten minute warning was announced over the loudspeaker just as they came to a wide area that branched out in all directions. As the words faded, the crowd jostled Veronica and she lost sight of Sean up ahead. She looked wildly in all directions, but Veronica couldn't place him. Grasping at straws, she looked down at the phone in her hand, hoping that it would shed light on where he'd gone. The beacon showed him veering off and heading toward the upper suites above the box seats, but when Veronica turned to look in that direction, all she saw were three women and the back of the head of an older man who bore no resemblance whatsoever to Sean.

It was clear to her that Sean had somehow made the drop, right in the middle of the crowd. Veronica was dismayed that she'd completely missed the most important moment of the exchange, and that she couldn't even see the man's face who had just taken the money. Unbelievable.

She whipped around to where Bunk stood behind her. "Did you see anything?"

He motioned down a corridor with his chin. "I think he might have gone that way."

"Okay—there is something I need to check out. You go that way and meet me back here in five minutes if you don't see him. Otherwise, call me."

With a nod, Bunk disappeared through the thickening crowd.

Turning on a dime, Veronica quit worrying about finding Sean and started up after the group that she now suspected had the money.

As she started up the stairs, an arm unexpectedly reached out and hooked her elbow, twirling her sharply away from the step she was about to take and into Logan's chest.

"What are you doing?" she demanded breathlessly, startled.

"I watched that whole thing," he said just loudly enough for her to hear over the crowd, "We need to get out of here."

***Break***

Things were starting to fall into place for Logan.

He'd slowly been making his way toward the Chandelier Room, pretending to be minding his own business as he casually watched for anything out of the ordinary. Or in other words, looking for Sean. It had been boring as hell, truthfully, until he'd spotted Veronica on the outskirts of the moving crowd, looking gorgeous in her little yellow dress and large-brimmed hat. He'd stopped and stared at her for a moment before realizing what she was so intent on: Sean. Once Logan had spotted Sean, he hadn't let his eyes stray back to Veronica again.

And that was why he saw what he knew Veronica must not have. He'd watched as Sean bumped into a man who was wearing a very expensive suit and who was flanked with three perfectly-coiffed women. The women had crowded around the two men while Logan watched with curiosity, wondering what exactly was going on.

Then the two men had broken away from each other, and Sean was gone. And when Logan had looked to Veronica, he knew she hadn't seen it. He'd quickly found the man with the three women, heading his direction and up the stairs. When the group had passed by Logan, unnoticed, thank God, Logan had recognized the man.

Veronica had been almost sprinting up to the stairway when he'd grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side.

Presently, she was staring at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

He didn't want to take the time right now, but he knew that she wouldn't budge without some sort of reason.

So he said, "Do you know who Larry Morrison is?"

A brief look of confusion clouded her face. "Uh, the prostate cancer guy?"

"The very one."

Veronica looked toward the stairs. "That was him?"

"You didn't see his face?" Logan asked, a bit surprised that she even knew Morrison's name. "Would you have even recognized him?"

"Uhh…maybe?" She looked back at him, and her blue eyes were crystal clear. "Who is he to you?"

He shrugged. "Well, he was involved in the purchase of the 09er."

"The 09er?" Veronica asked, looking genuinely bewildered. "What does that have to do with the price of tea in china?"

She doesn't know, Logan realized. "Oh, uh…well, when Dick and I bought the building for the 09er, Morrison's fingers were in the pie."

"Wait, what? You own the 09er?" Veronica blinked and gave him an uncomprehending look. "And what do you mean, Morrison was involved?"

Feeling uneasy, Logan looked up into the stands to where Morrison's group was just now disappearing into their private suite. He looked back down to where he'd last seen Sean. Not seeing him, Logan turned back to Veronica, who was growing impatient.

"Logan, are you going to answer me?"

"Morrison is really important in Neptune," Logan told her as he ushered her away from the stairs and looked around for Bunk. "He's been involved in a lot of panels and he has a lot of sway. I pissed him off a couple years ago. I've heard rumors about how he runs the town's off-scene. If he donates to your project, that's basically the green light for permitting whether the city backs you or not." Spying Bunk, Logan motioned for the older man to follow and then made a beeline for the exit.

"Sounds like quite the charmer," Veronica quipped, adjusting herself out of Logan's grasp but kept in step with him. "So what did you do to piss him off?"

"It's a long story, but let's just say I'm a shrewd business owner and he knows it."

***Break***

Mac pulled on Dick's sleeve. When he bent down, she whispered in his ear, "I just got a text. They're leaving, but I think we ought to stay a while longer."

He straightened with a knowing smile on his lips. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? You can admit it, you know."

She scowled playfully. "You know, I could admit it, but then I'd have to kill you."

The chuckle was loud and he grinned. "I like a little pain."

Me, too. The thought came out of nowhere and Mac looked away, under the guise of searching for Sean. "Are we going back up to the box seats?"

Dick seemed to sense that she wanted to drop their playful teasing. "Uh, well, no, not probably for a little bit. We can watch the race from the balcony…Sean probably will, eventually. If he comes back at all, that is. There are some nice seats out there." He took her arm and led the way.

"Can I ask why anyone would buy a box seat and then spend their time in here, where it costs an exorbitant amount just to get in? It seems counter intuitive."

"Oh, my dear Macalicious, how you underestimate the extent of entitlement. We flaunt it, you know." He opened the glass door that led outside and held it for her to pass under him. "If we saved our green, what would all these poor waiters and waitresses do without our tips?" As if to emphasize his point, Dick snagged two champagne flutes off of a server's tray and handed her one, throwing some bills onto the tray. He popped his eyebrows up and down, "Enjoy it, get to know it, maybe you'll get used to it and then you'll join me here more often."

The earnest sparkle in his eye made Mac's heart speed up and she took a large gulp of the Champagne. The fizzy, rich flavor filled her mouth as she turned her attention to the track. Leaning on the rail, she gestured with her hand that held the champagne flute out to the tracks, "Are you betting on this one?"

"It's already done. But for you, not me. Like I said, I parlayed your win over to this race and then the next."

"Whatever that means…" she murmured.

"It means if you win on this race, you're gonna get the motherload," he said, nudging her slightly. "You'll thank me later."

"How do you have so much confidence?" She nudged him back. "You're sure a cocky son of a bitch."

"Well, I gotta be something, don't I? And what would the world be like without some charm and poise?"

"Charm and poise only gets you so far; what about brains?"

"You've got enough brains for both of us, I'm thinking." Dick set his now empty flute carefully on the rail of the balcony. "Papa always told me to stay away from the ones with the brains. But I never did like his advice."

She smiled, keeping her eyes straight ahead. "So tell me about the parlay and how this magical parlay betting works. I ought to take notes if I'm supposed to come back."

**Break**

They didn't worry about being seen as they left. They were past caring by now and were more concerned with getting out of the area than worried about being spotted.

Veronica sat in the back seat of the car with Logan. Bunk started the engine and took off out of the parking lot.

"Tell me about Morrison."

Logan, who looked exhausted, took the big black hat off his head and threw it over the top of the passenger seat.

"Hey, kindness, man! That's a nice hat!" Bunk grumbled, signaling and turning out onto the highway.

"Stuff it, old man," Logan sniped, "I'm hot and my arm hurts like fuck, so lay off." To Veronica, he said, "Morrison has his fingers in a lot of pies."

"So I'm gathering."

"What do you know about him?"

"Uh…not much." She ticked off what she knew, "I know that he's really wealthy. He bought into a company that isolated a genome for prostate cancer, like I already mentioned. He's generous. That's about all." She thought of something else. "Oh, he donated a huge amount of money to fund the new town hall and sheriff's department."

"It's true he owns the biotech company." Logan said as he carefully leaned back. "Morrison likes good press. On the surface, he comes off as this heroic, generous man who would do anything for the common good. Experience has told me that he has an agenda at all times."

"An agenda, how?"

He sighed. "Okay. So Dick and I own the 09er, right?"

Veronica bit her lip. "So you said."

"Morrison…owned the building when we went to buy it. Before he got involved with all the genome crap, he made his money in real estate, not exclusively, but…I got the feeling he liked people to think it was a hobby, but he was pretty ruthless. I guess that's the word." Logan picked at some lint on his jeans, keeping his eyes transfixed on his knee. "Dick and I looked around a long time before we picked that neighborhood to build the 09er. That area was starting to get bought up and was becoming pretty mainstream; it seemed like a good spot. Lucrative."

"Seems to me like you had the agenda."

"Maybe. Probably, sure. I won't deny that Dick and I wanted to be successful. Doesn't anyone who opens a business want it to flourish?" Logan glanced at her quickly. "We all have to eat." When she didn't respond, he continued, "Anyway. I digress. We had a real estate attorney look into all the buildings and vacant lots in town…we were supremely surprised when this particular building popped up. Apparently, it had changed owners a few times over the years, but it was Morrison who owned it by then. There were a lot of small businesses within the building itself that leased the space. Morrison was asking an obscene amount of money for it. We knew that, to do what we wanted to the property, we would have to boot out all of the businesses on their asses..."

Veronica was starting to get a slightly suspicious feeling. "Logan…"

He avoided her glance and continued, "Dick wasn't real gung-ho with the area, but it's true, that neighborhood had begun to turn around. It once was a rougher area, but the past couple of years before we bought it, it had been getting more impressive. So…I hired an inspector come in and take a look at the building, to see how structurally sound it was and what kind of money we would need to put into it. Our vision was to have old warehouse glam…" he looked at her and shrugged, "but when the report came back, we were shocked at the news. The building should have been condemned years before, completely gutted and demolished. The fact was that Morrison had purchased the property with the sole intent to leech the rent off the businesses and then sell the sinking ship at the right time for the highest price."

Veronica felt like she was missing something. "That makes no sense; how did he think he could get away with that?"

"Well, that's the reason he's not my number one fan. From what my lawyer and our private inspector told us, the city hired inspectors and bought them off. They paid for the building to pass the inspection with flying colors because of who Morrison is and what he could do for the town."

Still feeling confused, Veronica mused, "But…when he went to sell, surely the potential buyers would have realized…"

"Well, that's the point. Most normal buyers in Neptune just wait for whomever to come inspect properties. We concluded that the banks and the city were working together. It was a good thing that I knew someone from the Navy and I chose to pay him to do the inspection. So, because I paid extra to have him come from out of town to do the inspection, Morrison got caught. The inspectors that are hired in Neptune tweak things for their own advantage. They were lining their pockets, and we didn't play their game. So…when we went into that meeting with Morrison's lawyers, we low-balled him because we knew what it was really worth and we showed them that we knew he'd been hiding the fact that it needed to be condemned. It was a lawsuit waiting to happen."

"Logan." Veronica waited for him to look at her before she asked, "Where's the 09er?"

"Mmm…in Neptune."

"Logan."

He sighed heavily. "It's…on Adams Avenue…on the corner that once housed Completely Video, Lestats, and—"

"Mars Investigations." She said the last in breathless unison along with him.

"Yup." He popped the 'p' with a loud pop.

"But…Dad said the building was completely destroyed because it had to be condemned. That doesn't sound like 'old warehouse glam' to me," Veronica commented. "And we went through the alleyway the other day, and I didn't recognize it at all. I didn't even know where we were."

"I couldn't comfortably walk away from that situation, Veronica. We decided to forfeit the warehouse idea, start fresh, and name it the 09er. That wasn't in the original plan."

"Why couldn't you walk away? You weren't invested yet."

"I have a heart," she thought she heard him mutter. Louder, he said, "If you find out there's a burning building, do you just watch it crumble to the ground, watch the people within it kicking and screaming, and do nothing? I may have done that in a past life, but I refuse to be that person ever again. We had to do something."

Veronica was quiet then, reflecting. She remembered the day that Keith had called to tell her that he was moving the office to a new location. Apparently, the building had been marked for demolition. He'd been excited; there was a settlement involved and he was getting a stipend for relocation. The whole block was to be renovated and all of the businesses on the street were being compensated to vacate and find new storefronts.

The one thing she remembered the most was that Keith had been able to put a huge down payment on his house that year. It was in a neighborhood and area that Keith was proud to call home and Veronica had been so happy for him.

She slid her eyes to Logan, who sat quietly staring out the back window. Logan was the reason, she realized. Logan was who had made the settlement happen; Logan was the one that called Morrison's bluff. Logan was why Keith was able to 'move up in the world'; Logan was why.

Logan.

Without any thought, Veronica reached out a put her hand on Logan's knee.

She didn't watch his reaction but she felt him stiffen. "Thank you."

**Break**

Logan swallowed around the knot in his throat, his eyes fixated on Veronica's fingers when she set them easily on his knee.

He debated for a moment whether or not to reach out and entwine his fingers in hers. His heart raced with the realization that Veronica was finally softening toward him. She was slowly thawing out from the angry iceberg she'd been less than one day earlier. The change in her was marked, and he was almost unsure of himself in the knowledge that perhaps Veronica's understanding of his life and ways were not as discriminating anymore. Maybe she was seeing him as less of the boy she'd once known and more of the man he'd actually become.

"Logan…" Veronica breathed his name slowly, her fingers feathering his knee lightly.

He was disappointed when she seemed to realize what she was doing and pulled her hand away. "What Morrison did….wasn't honest; he's not a good person. If… he's involved with Sean…this is dangerous. He has money, connections." She said the last with conviction. "This is big."

"Even the Big Bad Wolf has a weakness," Logan said after a moment's beat. All at once, his jacket felt too tight and it was way too hot in the car. He shrugged out of the confining fabric, careful to not knock his shoulder into the frame of the car, but stilled when he felt Veronica reach over help him. She pulled at the sleeves, and together, they got the offensive jacket off of him and he threw it to the front seat.

Next, he unbuttoned the ridiculous cowboy shirt and shucked it off as well, pulling it from where it was tucked into the waist of his jeans and letting Veronica help again. When the shirt joined the jacket, Logan gingerly pulled at the collar of his undershirt and touched the bandage at his shoulder carefully.

"Does it bother you much?" Veronica asked, craning her neck to look at the injury, which was opposite her.

Logan braced his arm against his chest and leaned his head back. "It twinges now and then. The doc said I would have a quick recovery, but I'm pretty sure the way I've been handling my 'recovery'," he air-quoted with his good hand, "I'm thinking the old doctor might be a bit…disappointed with my progress."

"Maybe you should rest when we get back."

"I'll be fine."

"Seriously," Veronica insisted. "You need to take it easy."

From the driver's seat, Bunk grunted, "He's seen much worse than this, I can tell you that."

Concern flashed across Veronica's features and Logan carefully avoided her glance. To Bunk, he quipped, "Yeah, from you, old man!"

"Ha, ha," Bunk said dryly. "If basic training didn't kill you, a measly bullet won't do it. Just remember to do your stretches."

Logan bit back a laugh. "Downward Dog ain't got nothing on you, Bunk. You won't catch me in your yoga class."

"Hey, you're missing out. Core strength isn't the half of it; the view is better."

Beside him, Logan could tell that Veronica was holding back a smile when she said, "So it really isn't 'Downward Dog' it's more like 'Dirty Dog'?"

"I never claimed I was blind." Bunk laughed. "Or stupid. If the ruse of a good stretch works, why wouldn't a red-blooded American man use things to his advantage?"

"You sound like Dick," Veronica grumbled, and Logan laughed.

***Break***

Horseracing was an unbelievable rush.

Mac was screaming and yelling along with everyone else, urging the horses closer to the finish line. Her hands were on the rail, and Dick stood next to her. They were cheering and jumping up and down together in their excitement. Farther down on the same balcony, stood Manny Rose, watching the race intently. Mac had kept him in her sights, careful to not get so carried away that she lost him in the crowd. She'd appointed herself his watchman, and was aware of how awkward and out of place he seemed in this environment. Some people, no matter how hard they tried, always looked dowdy and trashy, and Manny was definitely one of them. He had no class and there was nothing about him that would make people do more than avoid him.

This trait, she figured, was likely why he was the chosen henchman. She would bet anything that the reason Manny was with Sean was because the former was unmemorable, at least to someone not looking. Manny wasn't handsome in any way, there was nothing striking about him. He blended in with the crowd only in that he wore the mandatory jacket and Mac could tell he was purposely keeping a low profile.

She'd not seen Sean since he'd slunk out of the Chandelier Room's door; she expected that Manny was likely waiting around for the guy. She'd been expecting Sean to show up at any moment with an excuse of where he'd gone, but it had been more than an hour and he still hadn't returned. And now Mac was too engrossed in the race to care at the moment about Sean.

The horses were rounding the track and nearing the finish line, but there was one lone horse that had broken away from the group and was heading full speed ahead. His jockey was perched atop the saddle, bent low with concentration, and Mac could see that he was about to win. A second horse broke from the group and was swiftly gaining on the other.

Over the loudspeaker, the announcer's voice kept raising with enthusiasm, the rush of words coming in bursts that was muted by the roar of the crowd. The excitement in the air was tangible and everyone around her was watching the race intently. Beside her, Dick's arm was raised, his fist tightly clasped, and he was urging the horses with a loud expletive.

All at once, it was over. Dick scooped her up in his arms and lifted her up in his excitement, twirling her around before setting her back on her feet. With glimmering eyes, he yelled over the roar of the crowd, "We won!"

Mac's arms had wrapped around him as he swung her, and a moment later, she found her feet on the ground again, with her arms were still around his neck. Her fingers curled into the edges of his blond hair and she stared up at him, breathing hard from exhilaration. His large smile and bright eyes captivated her and she found herself unable to look away or let her arms drop.

Time stood still for a moment, and all Mac was aware of was how his gaze made her stomach somersault and how her already racing heart beat even more wildly. Air escaped her lungs and it was suddenly difficult to breathe. She was looking up at him and saw him bend down toward her.

She should have moved away, but Mac was so enthralled by Dick's expression that she stood stock-still, waiting. And then his lips were on hers. It was a hard and fast kiss; one that held promise of what could be, but chaste enough to not embarrass her in the public setting. When Dick pulled away, her eyes fluttered slowly open to meet his. The blue of his irises had turned a surprising smoky-hue, a color and description that Mac usually associated with a dark-eyed person; but it was definitely smoky. She was afraid to name it anything other than smoky because naming it would add too much meaning.

They broke apart then, their arms dropping awkwardly to their sides. Dick's expression had turned almost whimsical as he looked down at her, his tongue touching his top lip and a question in his eyes. Mac, ever the stoic person of denial that she was, broke their gaze and returned her attention to the track. Every horse had crossed the finish line by then and was being led off the track. She focused on her breathing and wished fiercely that she would cool down. Her entire body was flushed from being so wrapped up with the race and now their kiss had just added more heat to the fire. She really could not look at him again.

The crowd suddenly hushed, and Dick turned back to his post next to her and placed his hands on the rail. "So you ready to go collect our winnings? It's gonna blow your mind, man."

"How much can five bucks yield?" Mac asked flippantly. "I'll take my fifty bucks in winnings and buy a subscription to hulu plus."

"You are obviously not a gambler. A fifty ain't the half of it, my dear," Dick replied with an air of smugness, "Prepare to be blown."

"Now, what kind of lady would I be if I was waiting to be blown?" Mac snarked, grinning when his eyes widened. Great, she'd officially sunk down to his level. "However, all this talk of being blown away makes me wonder just how surprised I'm gonna be." Feeling abnormally gutsy, Mac held out her hand for Dick to take. "Lead the way, kind sir."

Dick tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow before giving a pointed look to where Manny was still standing against the rail. He looked tempted to say something to the other man, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, Dick led her away from the balcony and through the French doors that led back inside to the Chandelier Room. The club was slowly thinning of people now that the races were over for the day. With one last glance at Manny, Mac followed Dick through the doorway and looked around the room.

"Can we collect our winnings here?" Mac asked. "It would be nice to get on the road before the highway turns into a parking lot."

"Eager to get away from me so soon?" Dick jabbed her side lightly. "You don't have to sound so happy about it."

"Oh, you're an eighth grade girl, are you?" Mac sniped. "I can see it now, as soon as I drop you off, you calling Logan to obsess over whether the day was a success or not and worry about when I'll call."

"Ooh, will you call?"

"Well, not today. Because I'll be with you."

"Fair enough."

A/N: Thanks again! As always, Reviews are welcome. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.