Of course, such safety issues didn't concern him. The two of them cleaned up Hannah's attic and then went back to Jack's place. They made something to eat and chatted over dinner.
Coming from a military family, Chris was highly adaptable to different diets. Even though the steak Jack cooked wasn't of the highest quality, Chris ate it with great enjoyment.
"Are you short on money?"
Chris's question caught Jack off guard. Following his gaze, Jack saw the small, old refrigerator in the kitchen, which seemed out of place in the newly renovated space.
"Ah, it's alright. My salary as a patrol officer covers my daily needs. My expenses aren't high, but I recently took out a loan to buy this house, so money is a bit tight. These old appliances need to be replaced slowly. I don't like having too many debts."
Jack suddenly remembered his treasure and pulled out a USB drive, handing it to Chris.
"This has 30 Bitcoins. Sell them for me when the price goes up in a couple of years. I'm about to join the FBI and don't want any financial issues cropping up."
Chris hesitated for a moment, instinctively taking the USB drive, but his expression showed discomfort. At the current price of six to seven thousand dollars per Bitcoin, Jack's serious demeanor felt a bit excessive to someone used to dealing with billions in cash flow.
"Don't look at me like that. I'm trusting you with my entire fortune."
Jack might be poor now, but he was confident. If he didn't want to attract too much attention, with his master-level healing skills, he could easily make money treating the rich or even starting a cult. Material needs were no longer urgent for him.
"You don't want to take my money, and that trading company just started, so splitting profits now doesn't make sense. But if it's IRS money, do you mind?"
Chris, feeling a bit embarrassed by the contrast between Jack's mysterious aura and his current lifestyle, thought for a moment and made a suggestion.
Jack's eyes lit up immediately. His previously indifferent demeanor shifted to a more pragmatic one. Who wouldn't want legitimate income? If there's one department in the USA that even the FBI wouldn't mess with, it's the IRS.
"A friend at the IRS is in some trouble, and it's connected to LA. I can have him come to you for help."
Jack was puzzled, "I'm just a regular patrol officer. How can I help the IRS? And why would the IRS pay me? They have ways to make the LAPD cooperate unconditionally."
Chris didn't elaborate, clearly confident in this matter.
"You'll understand when my friend from the IRS contacts you. As a supervisor, he has that authority."
Jack nodded in understanding, then brought up investigating the Kleiner Foundation. The timing was right, as this criminal group was about to lose official support temporarily. If they didn't act now, things would get complicated and dangerous once the group allied with another politician.
Chris promised to provide results soon and then left, eager to see his closest partner, Justin, also receive treatment quickly.
A week later, Jack was about to clock out when he received a mysterious phone call.
"Jack Tavore? He said I could trust you completely."
Hearing the somewhat elderly voice on the phone, Jack was momentarily stunned, then realized the 'he' referred to Chris.
"Yes, that's correct."
"I have a problem that needs your help. I'd like to meet privately. You choose the time and place, but it's best if it's today."
"Uh," Jack glanced at the time, it was just past 6 PM. "How about my place? 8:30 PM, we can talk over dinner."
Since the IRS could easily check his records, being open about it might help build trust.
"I've heard you're a good cook. I look forward to tasting your cooking."
It was clear the caller had done his homework. Jack smirked and drove to Wegmans supermarket. If he wanted to impress this important figure, he decided to make an expensive French dinner.
That evening, while preparing dinner, Jack video-chatted with Hannah. His sweetheart had been stuck at Quantico for almost three months now. The training was tough, but she still made time to chat with him every night before bed.
Despite being apart for so long, Jack felt their relationship had grown closer. The girl, emboldened by the distance, said all sorts of things in the video chats. They were currently talking about her arch-nemesis, Tyler Kelly.
"That little tramp hasn't tried to seduce you recently?" Hannah asked, skeptical.
"Maybe she's given up? It's been almost two months. I haven't seen her since the New Year's Eve party. You know I don't even have a TV at home, let alone watch Channel 8 news."
"She's definitely plotting something. I know her too well. She would never give up easily."
Hannah seemed to have deep-seated grievances.
"If you didn't mention it, I'd have forgotten to ask. How deep is your grudge against her?"
Jack, never one to miss out on juicy gossip, was curious. He had recently enjoyed the drama between Angela and Wesley over meeting his parents, almost grabbing popcorn to watch.
"She stole my crown at the graduation dance because I didn't have a date!"
Ah! No wonder the hatred was so deep. Jack immediately joined his girlfriend in condemning the enemy. Loyalty was crucial at this moment.
Hannah, reminiscing, still felt indignant, but soon she started whining sweetly to Jack.
"Darling Jack, you have to help me get revenge on her."
"How? Give me a plan, and I'll execute it. We'll make sure she knows not to mess with us."
Jack drizzled the plum sauce and red wine reduction over the seared foie gras, placing it in the infrared warmer, while sweet-talking his girl.
Hannah, seeing his nonchalant attitude, pouted in dissatisfaction, then her eyes gleamed mischievously, and her voice turned even sweeter.
"Why don't you make her fall in love with you, then after she boasts about it, we'll go to the high school reunion together and humiliate her in front of everyone?"
Jack's forehead broke out in black lines. This sounded like a plot from a third-rate American teen drama.
Shaking off the goosebumps, Jack knocked on the phone camera with a spoon.
"I think you've been away from home too long. Speak properly. That tone isn't like you. If you keep this up, I'll have a good chat with Mrs. Anderson."
Mrs. Anderson, Zoey's mother and Hannah's aunt, was the only person besides Zoey who could control Hannah. As their relationships grew more complicated, Zoey had long lost her previous dominance over Hannah.
___________________
Read Ahead
P@treon.com/Mutter