Page 69 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part Two
I rolled my eyes. “If you don’t think people will guess that you’re her fourth boyfriend the first time the paps take a photo of us all and she’s looking at you like you’re fucking prime rib, you’re crazier than me.”
Evan grunted something noncommittal. “We’ll cross that bridge later.”
Otto looked at Sampson. “And you?”
“I’m all in. With her. With you guys. With the family we’ll eventually have. Fucking everything. Nearly losing her was so fucking rough that I never want to feel that way again.” He typed into his phone, probably another email. “I’ll get my assistant to arrange something. We’ll let this other shit die down a bit first though.”
Yeah, the last thing I wanted to talk about was my father and his fucking court case. It had been everywhere since I got back. I couldn’t turn on the television without seeing his face or name on the news, often running along the bottom of the morning shows. I never wanted to see his fucking face again, but I guess that wasn’t going to be something that would happen anytime soon. I longed for the day when he was so far behind bars that I didn’t even have to think about him.
After a rough plane landing due to some serious winds, we all finally shuffled off the plane. Too many flights in too short a time was really fucking with my body clock. We all probably needed to reset. I wrapped an arm around Viva’s shoulders and held her to my side. She still had deep bags under her eyes, and I made a mental note to take her to a spa, let her be pampered like a fucking queen.
But first, coffee. “Come on, Viva. I’ll get you some sweet, sweet caffeine.”
I stopped at a coffee cart in the main foyer of the airport, and ordered four coffees and a peppermint tea for me. Coffee fucked with my meds.
“Want a cookie?” I asked a sleepy Viva.
She looked at me like I was dumb. “That’s a stupid ass question.”
“And that giant cookie with half a chocolate bar on top,” I said to the pimply-faced barista. Seriously, that thing was basically a cake.
“That's twenty-three even, sir.” I gave him my credit card with a smile. Judging by the giant bucket of coffee he had back there himself, he was as sleep-deprived as the rest of us, though with that much java, it wouldn’t be for long.
“Sorry, sir. Your card has been declined.”
“The fuck?” I grabbed back my Amex and handed him my Mastercard. Declined again. What the hell?
Sampson stepped forward and paid, and the kid moved back to the coffee machine. We moved away from people, huddling in the corner away from listening ears.
“What is going on?” I hissed. Sampson and Otto shook their heads, and Aviva just looked at me wide-eyed.
Sampson’s phone chirped, and he frowned. “It’s Tobias. He said the Feds froze your accounts. Your father insinuated that he was funneling the money through you, and that you’re an accomplice.”
That slimy old fuck. “The Feds know that's not true.” I grabbed out my phone and dialed the number for our FBI handler, Fabio. Unlike last week, it answered on the first ring.
“Hendrick—”
“You froze my fucking accounts without warning me?”
There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Yeah, sorry kid. When he threw you under the bus as an accomplice for the laundering charge, we were legally obligated to freeze them until the investigation is over.”
“But we both know that's bullshit!” I didn’t keep my voice down, and Evan nudged me with his elbow. Yeah, fine. We didn’t need the world knowing our secrets. “Youknowthat’s not true. I handed it all to you in black and white.”
“It's just the process, Hendrick. And the proviso of keeping your name out of it meant we couldn’t automatically fall back on your information to exonerate you.”
“Well, I rescind that term. Let the old fuck know it was me who dragged him to Hell, and give me my money back.”
“Sorry, kid. We’re not upholding just the agreement we made with you. We have another source who wants you out of it altogether. Let’s just say, this witness has even more compelling information, so between the two of you, there’s no way the senator will wiggle his way out of it. Her only terms were that you didn’t have to give evidence, and your name was never mentioned in the trial. So until the trial is over, your money has to stay frozen, then you can have it all back, I promise.”
“Her?”
“Your mother. You didn’t know?”
My whole mind just went white. “No.” How could I not know?
“I’m not at liberty to discuss the case, and I could get fired if my superiors find out I mentioned this, but your mother has been an informant for us for a couple of years now, since you turned twenty-one. I’m not her contact though.”
Twenty-one had been when I got full access to my trust fund and was independent from my parents entirely. I was silent as my brain tried to process everything. My mother was working to bring down my father too?
