Reeve flushed as Andrea scolded him. “I was doing my job, Andrea. I realise that most of the people down here don’t believe anyone on the Board does what we’re paid to do, but I try to at least justify my existence and paycheck.” He flinched despite bracing himself. “And I didn’t wander there willy-nilly, either. I checked to be sure it wasn’t a wildlife hotspot, or else I would’ve hired a guard to come with me.”
“Well, I think walling us up and leaving us to rot went a long way to that opinion,” Andrea pointed out dryly. “However, in all fairness, no one in Wall Market pays the Board to do anything.”
It was a standoff that wouldn’t last forever, but for the moment, they were more useful, or at least less troublesome, left to their own devices. Still, one has to wonder when the next ‘accident’ will strike, and whether Wall Market will be the target. One of many things that kept him up at night--but it wasn’t enough to make him leave. He knew little else (more importantly, he didn’t want to) and this was his home. He’d worked for it. That meant something.
“I suppose the real question, then, is who knew where you were going all on your so-dutiful lonesome?”
It was stupid to ask if he had enemies; who didn’t? He could have led an entirely blameless existence (doubtful), and still had them, simply for the power he held.
Andrea set a bottle within Reeve’s reach. He was going to want that soon. Alcohol was cheaper than anesthetic, and he wasn’t going to waste the latter on something the former plus a little ice could handle.
“Lavender or vanilla?” He held the two candles for Reeve’s inspection. They’d both have to smell it while he was sterilizing the needles, but he didn’t mind either scent.
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