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Chapter Five:
I woke up early to facetime with the boys.
"Is true we have another uncle?" Drake asked eagerly.
I could guess the source, but I asked anyway:
"Where'd you hear that?"
"Aunt Carina was sobbing on her blog about a 'bastard brother taking all her money on her YouTube channel last night."
"Did Uncle August really give the guy a black eye?" Elliot asked. "His lawyer is calling it self-defense."
I rolled my eyes.
"So, it's all true?" Drake said.
"Let's play a game," I said carefully. "Pretend you just inherited ten billion dollars and Aunt Carina and Uncle August are your new half-siblings. How would you feel?
Drake laughed.
"Scared."
"Intimidated," Elliot said. "Is that right use of the word?"
"Yes," I said.
I taught my boys to love their Aunt Carina and Uncle August, but not unconditionally. They could see they were not ideal role models. It didn't matter how many times they rode in the expensive cars August had access to or what makeovers Carina offered. My kids loved them, but with limits.
"Elliot, you didn't finish your breakfast," my husband Colin said. "Drake, write three sentences to conclude that English essay unless you want a B-minus."
"Yes, dad," they both groaned and walked away.
My husband had dark hair with streaks of gray in it. He had a charming smile and was an all-around good man.
"How's Spencer holding up?" he asked. "Aside from the blackeye?"
"It's a mixed bag," I admitted. "He feels blindsided by every revelation, but then overwhelmed but the kindness Uncle Jacob has shown before and after his death. You should see the scale set of the Enterprise in one room."
Colin's eyes lit up as I anticipated.
"I look forward to getting to know Spencer, better," he said carefully.
I laughed.
"Nice save," I said. "Anything else I should know?"
"Carina and Sophia are staging a press conference outside the police station where August is being held in an hour."
"Excellent," I said.
"How?"
"You'll see," I said and logged off.
I walked into the kitchen and found Spencer with a cup of coffee, reading on a tablet while eating a bagel.
"Chef Lucas can make you anything you'd like," I said.
"I'm good."
"I though I heard you were low-tech," I said.
"I adapt when I have to," he said. "You don't get newspaper delivery here."
"A paper subscription can be arranged," I said.
"I'm good, but thank you," he said.
"How are you doing really?" I asked as I poured myself a cup.
"It is still a lot, but I am starting feel a little more oriented."
"Have you given any thought as to what you'll do next?" I asked carefully.
"I have," Spencer said. "I can't work for the FBI. Every time, I'm in the field I'll be prone to kidnapping attempts. Not to mention the media getting in the way of investigations. I think I'm going to ask to ask if I can work in the technical development department where my PHD in engineering will be useful. I'll still consult on cases remotely, but I know my field days are over."
"How do you feel about that?" I asked.
"Conflicted," he said. "I love my job, but a recent incident made me think that it might be time for a change anyway. Maybe this is the window I've been looking for without realizing it."
"That's a good way of looking at it."
"Thanks."
I checked my phone for the time.
"Log on to the Jensen Tech Corporate website."
Spencer did and there was minute countdown on the banner.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Wait and watch," I said.
Then the video came. None other than Jacob Jensen appeared. He was dressed in a gray suit and sitting his favorite red wingback chair.
"Hello," he said. "I am making this video a month before my presumed death to be posted on the company website before the New York Stock Exchange opens, the day after my will is read."
A picture of Spencer in an FBI vest holding a child appeared.
"This is my son, Spencer Reid. His mother asked me to stay away from him while I was alive for personal reasons. You will come to find in your research of him that he is a noble man."
A picture of one of his mugshots appeared.
"A few years ago, he was wrongfully imprisoned for the death of a dual citizen. My other children if I know them, will try to make this the picture you remember of him. If you value my company, you won't allow this."
A picture of him hugging a woman while wearing his FBI vest appeared. In both pictures, I noted that Spencer blocked their faces.
"I trust him more than more my other children combined. Carina and August, if you choose to fight the will, there will further dire consequences. Knowing when one's life will end is sad, but it can also be useful. Here are my warning shots."
A picture of August gamboling where the casino name is visible.
"That's a violation of his league's rules, right?" Spencer said. "Gamboling in an unsanctioned casino?"
"Sounds right," I said.
Next Carina appeared to be getting her nails done at a salon where the name was visible.
"That is bad," I said. "She has an exclusive deal Mosaic Nails."
"Some might call what I have done as mean-spirited and creepy as it appears that I have taken photos of my children without their consent. But I didn't. These were buried in pages of social media. I had an algorithm developed to find data that August and Carina might find detrimental to their so-called careers. This is only the tip of the iceberg. I have explicit instructions left behind, if you do anything to sully Spencer's name or dare to harm him physically. Carina and August, I love you, but I will not abide your behavior beyond the grave.
A picture of Spencer walking out of house with a look of determination appeared.
"I believe the future is bright with Jensen Technical Innovations, in the hands of Spencer Reid."
The video ended the banner reverted to its original form.
"He's protecting me, even after death," Spencer said.
"Do you know the song 'Live Like You Were Dying?"
"No."
"He took it very literally, not that he went skydiving or any of that, but he used every minute if life to preserve his legacy. His legacy, being you."
"It a little overwhelming," Spencer said.
I patted him on the shoulder.
"That is what I am here for."
…
This wasn't happening. This couldn't be real. It was just too fantastic.
"You're usual, Ness," Paul said as he handed me my triple-shot expresso.
"Smells delicious as usual," I said absentmindedly.
"You look like you have a boy on your brain."
"What!?" I said spinning around.
The shop was still quiet as most people didn't start work for another hour. Paul was laughing at me.
"What's his name?"
"You'd sell it to the tabloids."
"You're bursting to tell someone. I've been pouring you coffee through two boyfriends and none have inspired the look of delight on that face. Spill it girlfriend."
I couldn't help it. I needed to tell someone. Telling anyone at my job was out of the question.
"My crush from MIT now owns the company I work for!"
"Ooh that is juicy!" Paul said rubbing his hands together. "Do you think he remembers you?"
"I was just starting as he finished school."
"What attracted you to him?"
"His equations," I said dreamily.
"What!?"
"He was in charge of orientation and the way he wrote out the entirety of how a core processor worked was just beautiful."
"Vanessa Lutze, you are brilliant, but your ideas of qualifies as attractive are odd."
"I know," I said lightly. "Oh god, what if he wants to tour the facility today? How do I look?"
"Pale and freckly."
"Funny," I said.
"Guys know when a woman is trying too hard. It's cliché, but just be yourself."
"You're right," I said. "I need to get in work mode and count my blessings that this wonderful man dropped into my life so my job doesn't rest in the hands of Carina and August Jensen."
"Speaking of Augie," Paul said checking his phone. "His rideshare sponsorship just ended after a picture showed up of him using an Uber. Things that are about to get very interesting around here."
"That might be an understatement."