The Love Of Money - S02 E192

Story 2 months ago

The Love Of Money - S02 E192

Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 192

***

Friday, September 27th, 6:25 pm

Three hours passed without a word from anyone, and I underwent a test of Herculean self-discipline.

I considered reaching out to Psalter, thinking it was worth the risk of Officer Johnson catching me. Unfortunately, Helen’s warning about texting kept plaguing me, making me fear that she could be right. I didn’t know whether or not they could pick up on signals leaving the house. I wasn’t the most knowledgeable guy when it came to surveillance technology, and I wasn’t sure what the police were capable of.

So, I played a game on my phone, read a few chapters of a book, paced, and tried to have a conversation with Johnson… anything to keep me from texting someone.

Reynolds had been true to his word—I was free to move around… technically.

I didn’t have to stay in the dining room, but when I left to use the bathroom, Officer Johnson followed me. He was practically looking over my shoulder as I peed.

Helen had told me to cooperate, so I did

On my way down the hall, I saw Tara murmuring with a detective in the living room and Erin walking in the opposite direction, escorted by a female officer. We locked eyes briefly as we passed but didn’t speak. She looked calm and composed—the opposite of how I felt.

Once back in the dining room, I scrolled through articles to see what the latest damage was thanks to my feud with Tanaka. It wasn’t good. I eventually set my phone down and fixed a glare on Officer Johnson.

“How much longer is this going to take?” I asked.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“How long does something like this normally take?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know that either, sir.”

For a fleeting second, I once again considered bribery, but shrugged it off. It was pointless—the only one worth bribing was Reynolds, and that was too dangerous. Whether he worked for Hiro or was just one of those self-righteous crusaders, he clearly had it out for me. Trying to buy him off would only make matters worse.

The door opened.

“Officer Johnson,” Reynolds said from the threshold, “Miss VanCamp would like to speak with her client privately. Please wait in the hall.”

Johnson stood, nodded once to me, and stepped out.

“Ten minutes,” Reynolds said flatly as Helen stepped in. Once again, he gave us privacy.

I stood immediately. “Thank God. It feels like it’s been four hours.”

“Three,” Helen corrected.

I ignored her precision. “What’s going on?”

“Nearly your entire staff has hired me as their legal representation.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Detective Reynolds is losing patience. He’s accusing me of passing messages to everyone.”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” she said without apology, “but there’s nothing he can do about it. They have the right to counsel, and I happen to be it.”

“Seems like a flimsy excuse to jeopardize his investigation,” I said.

“It is,” Helen admitted, her tone calm but edged. “The only reason I can get away with it is because, despite your current troubles, you’re still one of the most powerful men in the world. Reynolds either has serious backing, or Judge Winthrop—the one who signed the warrant—is one of the ballsiest men to have ever lived. Either way, he’s risking some serious trouble if you ever decide to sue him, so Reynolds has to tread very carefully while he’s here.”

“So this is a weird game of chicken?”

Helen tilted her head slightly. “Crude, but accurate.”

I nodded, then asked the question that mattered most. “Have you talked to Bobbi?”

“I have. I let Reynolds speak to Erin alone in exchange for some time with Bobbi.”

A knot tightened in my chest. “What did she tell them?”

“Nothing.”

I hesitated. “Nothing?”

Helen’s expression softened just enough to show pride. “She’s given them hell. Regardless of how meek she might seem, that fire’s still in there… just under the surface.”

Warmth blossomed in my chest as I felt oddly proud of my little kitten in that moment. I'd been worried for weeks that—between myself, Helen, and Astrid—Bobbi's spirit had been broken. It was good to find out that she was still there, and I couldn't wait to hear what had been said between her and Reynolds.

Oh, to be a fly on that wall…

“We trained her well,” Helen said.

“No,” I said, unwilling to take credit for this. “You trained her well.”

Helen blushed as she gave me a coy smile, looking up at me through her eyelashes. She actually blushed—it was something not often seen from Helen VanCamp.

“Thank you… sir.”

I took a half step forward and placed my hand on her hip. My thumb caressed her bare skin affectionately just under the loose shirt she wore. Her breasts pressed softly to my chest as I drew her in close.

“Thank you.”

The air between us tightened, carrying unspoken and inappropriate thoughts that neither of us intended to voice here. I could feel them, though.

“So,” I said, my voice low, “what happens next?”

Helen’s focus didn’t waver. “Nothing. We wait for the good detective to be satisfied. Once he is, you’ll want to talk to Bobbi. She’s proven her loyalty… to a point.”

“What does that mean?”

“She wants something,” Helen said.

A chill traced down my spine. “What?”

“She wouldn’t say without speaking to both of us,” Helen replied, glancing toward the door to be sure we were still alone. “She tried to make it sound like a demand, but it sounded as if she was trying too hard.”

Her tone darkened slightly. “I told her that, considering everything, we might be in the mood to grant her request. I don't think she realizes that she might be able to make some sort of arrangement with Reynolds for immunity for her other crimes in exchange for turning on you. I… framed it to sound more like a reward for loyalty and less like a payment for extortion.”

I exhaled slowly, then leaned in to brush my lips across Helen’s for a light kiss. “I’m not sure how I could do this without you.”

Helen rewarded me with another pleased little smile.

“So we wait it out until Reynolds runs out of steam?” I asked.

“I believe so. Erin seems to have handled things well—I don’t think anyone has found actual evidence linking you to any wrongdoing.”

“Did I ever have anything incriminating?”

“Regarding Desai’s death?” Helen shook her head. “No. Erin’s been thorough, though. She hid anything that could connect you further to Desai than you already are. She didn’t want anyone getting more ammunition against you than they already had, no matter how circumstantial the evidence.”

The corner of her mouth twitched faintly. “Reynolds looks frustrated… very much so.”

A sharp knock cut through the tension.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes yet!” I called.

The door opened anyway.

Reynolds stepped in, leaning casually against the wall.

I took a step back, instinctively putting a little distance between Helen and me. “Can I help you?”

“I thought you’d want to know,” he said, “we’re starting to wrap things up.”

Helen turned sharply. “So soon?”

“Soon?” Reynolds arched a brow. “It’s been nearly four hours. How much longer did you think this would take?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “According to every woman in this house, you’re a perfect gentleman… might even be a saint. We haven’t found any signs of foul play. Despite what you may think of me, Ms. VanCamp, we’re not here for a witch hunt. We’re just making sure everyone’s being treated fairly and decently.”

Helen studied him for a long moment before replying. “Of course. I understand.”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he said, “could you walk with me?”

“Me?” she asked.

Reynolds glanced at me, then back at my lawyer. “Unless you’d prefer I speak directly with your client.”

Helen looked at me, then nodded. “Very well.”

As she moved past him toward the hall, Reynolds paused, his gaze landing on me.

“So, am I free to go?” I asked.

His expression was unreadable. “Mr. Upton, you were always free to go. No arrests were made, and no one was charged.”

He held my stare for a moment longer before following Helen out.

“Right,” I muttered.

‘Free to go,’ my ass.