Neil Donovan is (incharge) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-06-24 19:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | norman osborn |
Who: Neil
What: Narrative.
Where: Around Vegas.
When: Recently (I meant to do this days ago, shhhh.)
Warnings/Rating: None.
Neil hadn't forgotten about the locker Sam had mentioned, the one where she'd stashed the drugs Ian's little lackey had brought over, along with piles of information the fucker never should've been able to get his grimy paws on in the first place. Between being at the hospital and worrying, he just hadn't had the time or inclination to follow up, but he did now.
It was early morning when he stopped by Sam and Joey's old place and picked up the key in question. From there it was easy to find the locker at the station, by Freemont street, where only a couple of grungy loiterers gave him a cursory glance before returning their attention elsewhere. He wasn't as worried as he should have been about the heroin; he'd get rid of it, simple as that, and Sam would no longer be tempted by its existence. He shoved the baggie into his jacket discreetly, but it was the paperwork. Admittance forms, therapy documents, mentions of her suicide attempt in black and white; shit that should have been confidential. He took all of it, the note too, intending to make copies and take them to the cops. Maybe he didn't have any hard evidence that tied Ian to the documents, but fuck that. It might help the restraining order he was hell-bent on getting, and he'd kick up an ugly storm if he had to. The police department wouldn't want any bad press, would they? And he had the money and influence to make sure they got it if they jerked him around.
After disposing of the heroin where no one would find it, Neil spent a good part of the morning and early afternoon researching private security firms. Money was no option, of course, which worked in his favor. Money meant he could afford services that came highly recommended, with licences and training and discretion. They weren't the cops; they didn't look at him like he was nuts when he gave them the overview of the situation. He wanted security on the suite and on Sam herself, round the clock, not only in the form of armed guards but in the best technology money could buy. He wasn't taking any risks with this.
When he'd finally chosen a firm, one with a solid reputation and no hint of being swayed by dirty money, he took care of the doctors and therapists Ian the anonymous benefactor had paid for. Neil told them unceremoniously that they were fired, and he'd pay them whatever they wanted just to shut up and go the fuck away. By late afternoon he had a new psychiatrist hired, new therapists, and then he headed to the police department to look into that restraining order.
Ian may have thought he was untouchable, but he'd made a big mistake in deciding to fuck with Sam. If he'd thought the people who cared about her were just going to sit around and do nothing, he had another thing coming.