Gardens Of Eden (A Harry Styles Story)

57. Halfway to Hell

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"Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity." - Seneca

**

The impromptu press conference ended at 1:30pm. 

For Harry, the clock started the moment he closed the front door on the swamp of reporters outside. Now to watch everything unfold.

At 1:36, the first reports went out online and were being shared on twitter. Harry shared the most factual one he could find, including a little prayer hands emoji before hitting send.

At 1:49, the tweet had almost a hundred thousand replies and retweets.

At 2:12, videos starting popping up all over London's local news outlets, this was what they were waiting for. As the calls, emails and notifications began pouring in, it was clear they'd grabbed the attention of the city of London... but there was only one phone call he was looking forward too.

At 3:47pm, that call finally came. Harry closed himself in his office with his lawyers to take it.

"Mr. Styles, quite a stir you've made." Harry gave an awkward chuckle, preparing for another comment, but the man plugged on.

"Agent Jackson here. I'm looking through your case right now," he spoke frankly, not sounding very hopeful. "And as I'm sure you know, this isn't the first time The Garden of Eden has come under fire."

"I know, but my girlfriend was taken, for the second time, mind you, and if you look, the timeline, the facts, everything is there." He was starting to feel frantic, "we think it's the cop that took her, his name is Rick Myers, so if you don't help us..." He saw Jamie giving him 'keep calm' look, and he took a deep breath before finishing off, "no one will."

"I understand, Mr. Styles. I'll give it the time-"

"-Agent Jackson you said?" Jamie sounded cool and calm, leaning on his back leg with his hands in his pocket.

"That's right, who am I speaking too?"

"My name is Jamie Sheridan, of Sheridan Mitchell Law. Please, if you'd read the third paragraph of my summary..." everyone waited as the voice on the phone cleared his throat, finding his spot, "you'll see there's a blind spot, between Seville and the local police. Every suspicious report against them has been either dropped or forgotten. The evidence, statements, dates..." He closed his eyes, as if reading the page from memory. "They don't match up."

Everyone in the room listened as the sound of rifling paperwork came through the line. 

"Hmm." The agent grunted. Harry pictured a weathered man, well past his prime, and hoped he was taking this as seriously as he needed to.

Jamie, already on a roll, crossed his arms and punched in the point. "Now I know this isn't usually how you do things, but this is a time-sensitive case. Two lives, at least, are on the line, and the local police are somehow involved." Jamie tossed his pencil onto the pad of paper on the desk. "We don't want to confront them ourselves but unfortunately, that is the next step." He finished. Harry could've kissed him.

A heavy sigh on the other end of the line told us we were making headway. Jamie and Alvin looked at each other with baited breath.

"Look gentlemen, don't do anything rash. There's a lot of information to filter through here."

"We just need a search warrant, an escort, something..." Harry insisted. "Please."

The detective gave one last pause. "Well you're right, this isn't usually how we do things, but... it appears you've done your homework. I think I have some people in the area that'll be interested in this. You boys sit tight."