"Benoit Blanc," you state harshly, looking at the man sitting next to the piano across the room from your chair. Lieutenant Elliot and Trooper Wagner look at you in confusion. You've just been brought in for questioning and they have yet to introduce you to the private investigator.
"You two... know each other?" the lieutenant asks hesitantly.
"Yeah. We go way back," you snark, glaring slightly at Blanc.
Lieutenant Elliot looks back at Blanc for a response. He sighs and nods, acknowledging that you've told the truth.
"So why are you here?" you ask Blanc.
Blanc clicks his tongue slightly before replying in his thick Southern accent, "I'm here at the behest of a client."
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"Who?" Linda requests sharply.
"I cannot say. But let me assure you this. My presence will be ornamental. You will find me a respectful, quiet, passive observer of the truth," the private investigator explains calmly.
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"Fine. Are we getting there?" Richard questions, slightly impatiently.
"Nearly. Um... Harlan's nurse, she was at the party in a professional capacity?" you hear Blanc inquire.
"Marta? I guess. Harlan hired her to be around to take care of whatever medical needs popped up. But really, she's like part of the family," you roll your eyes at Richard's glorification of the family's relationship with Marta. He continues, "Good kid. Been a good friend to Harlan. Family's from Paraguay."
You sigh and stretch out with a yawn as Richard blabs on about Linda liking Marta's work ethic.
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"May I just, um, then I'll recede, but... As a self-made man myself, I have to express my admiration for how you followed in your father's footsteps," Blanc compliments.
"Thank you," Linda replies. Blanc is definitely fishing for something. You know his tricks.
"Just marvelous. You know, the whole family, too. And Joni with her thing, Walt with his publishing empire..."
"Well, yes. I mean, Walt, he's done well... with what dad gave him. Not that it matters, but really Dad and Y/n hand him a book each twice a year and Walt publishes them. It's just not the same."
There it is. That's what he wants. The inside scoop on Walt.
"But surely Walt runs the merchandising, adaptations, film and television rights, I mean-" Blanc continues.
"Are you baiting me, Detective? You know he doesn't. And if you think I am dumb enough to be baited into talking family business, into shit-talking my baby brother in front of a police detective and a state trooper-"
She's certainly not dumb enough, you reason. But she's not the only one in for questioning.
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"Walt doesn't run shit. Because there are no TV and film rights. Harlan never allowed any adaptations of his books. Hated the idea. So does Y/n," Richard explains, falling right into Blanc's trap.
"No!" Blanc feigns shock.
"Yeah! Drives Walt nuts. Cause that's where the real money is. When Walt would get a little Irish courage in him, he'd get into it with Harlan."
"Did he 'get into it' at the party?"
"Oh my god! Wouldn't leave him alone the poor guy. Harlan finally had to give him the hook. I didn't hear what he said, but he must've really handed him his lunch. Cause Walt was like a wounded puppy for the rest of the night."
YOU ARE READING
CSI: KFC || Ransom Drysdale x reader
Fanfiction"I think this could be the best thing to happen to all of you!" Fem!reader Also warning for swears if that bothers you, there's some, not too much in my opinion but it's still there. I'm assuming you've seen the movie so you know the vibe.
