I do not own anything from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. All rights and likenesses belong to Roald Dahl, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. Narrowing the field down to the top five contenders of Loompa Idol was hard. My personal favorite was "Sex and Candy" and a rap rendition of "Laffy Taffy" although Mr. Wonka blushed horribly. Simon just swilled his drink and muttered something about not getting paid enough for this torture. Mr. Wonka proceeded to whap Simon upside the back of his head. He REALLY hates mumblers. – Stealth Phoenix
Chapter 24
With a new sense of purpose and exhaustion nipping at her heels, Veronica strolled into Willy's office. Every time she entered the room, she was astonished at the sheer chaos. Papers stacked from floor to hip height sagged in the corners. Half-filled mugs of hot chocolate long cold and spawning life dotted the flat spaces. The sheer amount of desk toys cheerfully invited her to play. The only clear space was the keyboard – and even that was sitting on a stack of blue folders. The monitor itself was nearly lost in a sea of post it notes and fast-food toys.
Veronica wondered for a moment where the toys came from. Willy had admitted to not leaving the factory for years, yet he still had the toys?
She carefully tip-toed through the randomly placed furniture to sit at the lavender leather chair behind the desk. It was nicely worn and a comfortable dip in the middle of the seat reminded her that Willy had sat here for years building and running his empire.
It took a moment to locate the phone – it too had been buried under a small mountain of post-it notes with strange reminders like "Schnozzberries – CO136387345" or "Yellow Mellow?" on multiple pieces of colored paper.
Shrugging, she lifted the elegant receiver and dialed the number from memory.
"Hello?" answered Spencer's light tenor. He sounded stressed.
"This is the office of Willy Wonka – would you care to nibble some nerds?" she joked, enjoying being on the other side of the prank call.
"I already have, love! Why else would I stick by your brother?" asked Spencer, relieved.
Veronica felt touched at Spencer's worry.
The phone quickly changed hands and Reggie's deep voice came on, "Ronnie! Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. I've been working on getting the project done before the deadline so I'm a little tired, but overall I'm well."
"The project? He has you chained up in his factory still slaving away for his nefarious purposes after everything you've gone through?" Reggie sounded outraged.
"Actually, it was upon my own insistence."
"What about the fire? What happened?"
"Er... They're still investigating," Veronica neatly avoided a lie. The last thing she wanted to do was have Reggie and Spencer obsessing about her safety. She had her fill enough of that from Willy.
"I guess that explains someone named Detective Cavenaugh leaving messages on the machine while we're gone. He was just confirming your location on the night of the fire," Reggie's voice sighed. "How are you holding up? Any more panic attacks?"
"I've gotten some assistance in that respect. There's a good therapist here I've been working with. He's helped a lot."
"Really?" she could hear the surprise in Reggie's voice. She had to smile – some of their most legendary spats were over her continuing resistance to seek professional help.
"Sherman is better than Dr. Katzenberg ever was. He also works with Willy so I know he's discrete."
Reggie could hear an ocean of sub-context to her voice when she mentioned Willy Wonka.
"So how are things going between you and Mr. Wonka?" Reggie asked slyly.
"Good. Things are good. He's a wonderful man."
"How wonderful is he?"
"Reggie!" she scolded, blushing hotly.
He laughed on the other end of the line. "I just want to know in how many contexts you have told him how wonderful he was," he teased gently.
"I'm being good. I told him that I wouldn't pursue a relationship until after the contract is fulfilled," Veronica said firmly. Reggie knew she wasn't that kind of girl.
"Wait. You told him? So he was pursuing first?" There was that note of outrage again.
Veronica sighed, "He wasn't pursuing anything – he's not like that."
"I'm glad to hear that. I almost had to come down and defend your honor."
"My honor and I don't need defending - who knows, maybe it could use a little tarnish. We're two grown adults tentatively stepping from a professional working relationship to a social one. I want to make sure that if we go down this path we're doing so for the right reasons. Willy agrees."
"That's a very mature attitude. Where did it come from? Last time I checked you couldn't even talk to a guy you liked without a panic attack."
"Willy's special. He's so kind and gentle, funny, handsome…"
"This is starting to sound like a bit more than a crush from you Ronnie," Reggie said softly.
"I'm beginning to think so too. In fact, I'm working up to telling him about the attack Reggie."
Veronica heard Reggie's sharply withdrawn breath, "I'm proud of you kiddo. It's a big step. I just hope he appreciates it and treats you well."
Reggie knew how serious she was about pursuing Willy at this point with that declaration.
"Thank you Reggie. I'm scared, but it's the right thing to do if I want to ever get passed this and find love. Willy might be the incentive I need," she admitted softly.
"I'm glad to hear that. So, when can we see you?" Reggie said, happily changing the topic to something lighter.
"Um… I am on a tight time schedule to finish," she squirmed biting her lip.
"Big whoop. I demand at least an obligatory visit for the Christmas holiday," Reggie demanded.
"Don't try the guilt trip – it doesn't work on me that way and you know it. How does a quick stop on the 23rd sound? I want to buy some presents for folks here and I need an address to deliver to."
"Oh how nice – you can pick up your mail and flitter off," he said dryly.
"Okay – guilt might not work, but sarcasm does. I'll follow that up with a visit Christmas afternoon. See- I can be reasonable. Two whole visits in one week!"
"Excellent. That gives me time to download the pictures and have a lovely little presentation of our honeymoon to share."
Veronica winced. Reggie's idea of titillating pictures was lingering shots of arches, columns and the occasional male backside thrown in for good measure. Long rants about "fabulous architecture" could only be handled with large amounts of alcohol.
"Great," she lied through her teeth.
"I know you'll love it. Oh! By the way, there were a few messages for you on our machine as well. Do you want me to pass the good ones along and claim to have a wrong number for the rest?"
"Depends on who's calling," she said suspiciously.
"One shark asking if you wish to sue the owner for faulty wiring…"
"Pass."
"Johnny and Vanessa calling from France to offer sympathy. You know…he really reminds me of someone…"
"Yeah, that's why he's an actor. I'll write them a card when I get the chance."
"KXOR News calling for an interview about your reaction to the fire," Reggie said archly, already knowing her response.
"Bloody leeches! Pass."
"Your old boss Victor Brahm calling to offer sympathy. Apparently he wants to talk to you as well – something about a lawsuit?"
Hearing Victor's name dropped so casually from Reggie's lips caused a cold chill to shoot down her spine.
Cavenaugh had perked up when she identified Victor as the man the arsonist had been speaking with when he had interviewed her. The same Victor who seemed to be holding a psychotic-level grudge. Why did he want to talk to her?
"Really? What'd he say?" she asked, casually – sounding only remotely interested even as her palms grew clammy.
"He's in town for a few nights and offered to meet you over dinner. Frankly, he sounds like a slug, but I do have the number if you want it," Reggie said.
"I guess. No use burning bridges on top of homes," she forced a laugh even though there was zero humor in her voice.
Reggie rattled off a number. Judging by the area code, it was a cell phone since it had a California area code.
Veronica tended the conversation with a distracted mind for the next few minutes. Reggie eventually caught on and let her go. Long experience with his sister had taught him that when she was involved with something, getting her attention was near impossible. "Ta, darling!" he said as he hung up.
She sat with the phone in her hand for a moment, staring at the post-it note with Victor's number on in. Should she or shouldn't she?
"You know, if you're having problems reading your own writing, I could probably help you sound out the longer words."
Veronica squeaked in alarm and shot up to crouch in the chair – almost going over in her haste.
Willy regarded her fondly – she was so cute when startled. All wide-eyed and high-pitched.
He took a seat on a neatly hidden sofa – the print on the fabric closely resembled the stacks of files around it. If she hadn't been paying attention, she'd swear he was seated comfortably on the files themselves.
Veronica glared at him and resumed her seat, "Do I have to tie a bell to you? Don't sneak up on me like that."
"Interesting thought – but no! I was here to escort you back to your studio when ready. I want to see what the progress is," Willy said, stuck for a moment in the thought of having bells tied to him.
What horrible noise.
"Reggie says Victor has been trying to get a hold of me. I'm debating on whether or not to return the call," Veronica said, crossing her legs and leaning comfortably back in the chair.
"Hmm… That sounds suspicious. What do you think he wants?"
"I'm not sure – hence the debate. What do you think? Before or after we hear from Cavenaugh?"
While Willy pondered, Veronica studied him again. His neat clothes with their sharp creases, the soft brown hair swinging appealingly around razor sharp cheekbones, the long lean body with its cat-like relaxation. She wondered if he'd purr if she petted him… she eyes drifted close and she dozed.
"You should call. Curiosity cost nothing at this point." Willy concluded suddenly, startling her. "Grab the digital recorder out of my desk – top center drawer- and hit it so we can make sure to catch this if it does something for the investigation."
She jerked awake and nodded. Grabbing the player and fumbling with it for a moment, she clicked it on. Almost on their own accord, her fingers dialed the number on the sheet before her and switched it to speaker phone so Willy could listen in. It was with a detached sense of fear and morbid curiosity that she heard the phone ring once…twice…
Victor picked up on the third ring.
"Dulce La Vita – Victor Brahm speaking."
"Hello Victor," she said in a slow voice. "This is Veronica Carmichael, you called?"
"Veronica Carmichael – long time no see," Victor purred.
She rolled her eyes – of course no see, she was on the phone.
"I'm sorry to hear about your building – a terrible loss," he said in a syrupy sympathetic voice.
"It was quite the shock."
"I wish there was something I could do to help," he said with false cheer.
"There really isn't." What was he playing at – it was like they were speaking in two completely different conversations. There was the one they were speaking and another where the thinly veiled menace in Victor's voice took center stage. Veronica shook her head in confusion at Willy.
"I know you're busy with Willy Wonka, but don't you miss the good times working together?"
What good times?
"Victor, We had a short-term working relationship that went sour due to personality conflicts," Veronica said diplomatically.
"You're always so nice. But working with me – didn't it always pay off?"
"What pay? You still owe me my last paycheck."
"I prefer to think you got what you deserved – rich in experience and all that." He said, the real meaning of his words leaking through.
Veronica had had enough.
"Quite. Was there something you wanted?" Veronica said, quickly growing tired of the verbal cat and mouse.
"I just wanted to let you know that I've already spoken with the police to come clean," he said, obviously moving into a more private location as the noise in the background on his side of the phone died down.
"I beg your pardon?" she said incredulous. He confessed to what? Hiring a thug? Sexual harassment?
She shot a glance at Willy – he appeared equally confused.
"There's no way I'm giving in to your demands. Why don't you drop this charade and turn yourself in," he said in a menacing voice.
"What are you talking about? You contacted me, remember?"
"I'm talking about your attempts to blackmail me with your false charges of Sexual Harrassment. I'm talking about you hiring Jake Manning as your go-between to collect payments. I'm talking about lying to the police about how your apartment burned down and trying to point the blame in my direction," Victor said in almost a bored voice.
Veronica was caught between laughter and shock. He was accusing her? What the hell?
Across from her unnoticed, Willy stiffened in alarm.
"Victor, I don't know what you've been smoking, drinking or binging on, but have you lost your mind?"
"I don't think I want to keep talking to you, but just for your information, I have been recording this conversation and will be turning it in to my attorney in the morning. If you press forward with these charges, I will see you in court." Victor snarled and hung up.
Well, that was surreal. Veronica listened to the dial tone and stared at the phone in her hands until the harsh tone jerked her back to reality.
She replaced the handset and sat back in the chair to stare at the peppermint swirl ceiling. Massive confusion reigned. Why would he be accusing her when he was the one in trouble?
"Willy, what the hell was that?" she asked.
Willy slowly shook his head, "I'm not sure, but we have the conversation on tape as well. If this tries to come back and bite us in the butt, we're ready."
Despite the threat, her thoughts sat like congealing gravy on her brain. Her eyes throbbed and she felt slightly tipsy – she found her mind making strange jumps and starts to unrelated topics. She was too tired to be scared. Her eyes were so heavy that unless she mindfully forced them awake, they were more closed than open. The full meal sat heavy on her stomach and her mind drifted comfortably.
Veronica's eyes flew open as she felt Willy's strong arms scoop her from the chair.
"Hey! I was just resting my eyes – I need to get to work," she mumbled in protest. Her argument was somewhat weakened when a wide yawn cracked her jaws. She slumped closer to Willy's warm chest and her eyes closed against her will again.
"Right. You do that," he said sarcastically, placing her on the sofa to stretch out. "You take a nap – just for an hour or so – I'll stay here to work and will wake you. Cross my heart!" he swore, digging a lap robe out from under the couch and draping it over her body.
Veronica mumbled something that he chose to interpret as "Maybe just a cat nap" or it also could have been "You're such a bad cat" but it really didn't matter since she was fast asleep. He placed a soft kiss against her temple and straightened up.
Willy rubbed his burning eyes as he took her seat behind the desk. Wearily leaning back, he thought about the implications of Victor's call and what actions needed to be taken next. Closing his eyes, he pondered where the line was between taking action to protect her from Victor and his machinations was versus keeping her safe from herself.
Nonsensical to the situation, Willy wondered what she really wanted for Christmas.
Then he too fell asleep.
--
Victor grinned with savage glee. While her confusion was evident, she'd quite neatly given him everything he'd needed.
He clicked off the tiny digital voice recorder with a snap. With a little editing from his buddy Tom at Universal Studios, she would be confessing to her blackmail scheme in no time flat.
When Victor had been brought in for questioning at the Metropolitan Police Department little less than two hours after checking into his room at the St. George Hotel, he'd been livid. It was only after that fat bastard Cavenaugh had questioned him about knowing Jake that he'd figured out what was going on.
He'd seen the news after leaving the police station and knew that Jake had been caught. While no large sums of cash had crossed hands, there was still a connection. Victor coldly sacrificed Jake to the cops while protesting that he'd been on the wrong end of the man as well – that he was a victim!
For the last two days, he' been working extensively with his brother in-law, a hotshot New York attorney to create a case against Veronica. First he'd came forward with "letters" from her threatening to go to the press with sordid stories of sexual assault if he didn't cough up enough cash to make her happy. Thanks to his brother-in-law each letter had been "verified" and logged. He'd already been wise enough to apply for a restraining order, which in a delightful twist, her call had just violated.
Victor would just have to claim that the contact he'd had with Jake was the delivery of yet another payment to his blackmailer.
Victor leaned back in his chair in the lush hotel room with a lovely cup of Ecuador dark-brewed hot coffee in one hand. He sipped the wonderful smoky liquid and rolled it around his mouth as he pondered his next move.
The legal deposition should arrive in a few days – right before Christmas. What a wonderful gift that would make, he thought with a wicked smirk.
If the police pursued the case he would take it to media and Victor was sure that under such scrutiny Wonka would dump the gold-digging bitch like a hot rock. Then he might have a chance to step in and offer his services.
He smiled warmly at that thought.
Feeling smug, he moved to call room service - he was hungry.