Hollywood Taxes: A Tycoon in TV Land

Chapter 22: Returning to Los Angeles

Ron fixed his sharp gaze on Andy's face, and the calm demeanor Andy had maintained evaporated, replaced by the panic of being exposed. In an instant, he lunged forward, hands reaching for Ron's steering wheel.

But before his hands could grasp it, Ron swiftly intercepted, pushing Andy's head down forcefully against the car's control panel.

"Bang!" The impact left Andy seeing stars, but such a blow was not enough to deter his yearning for freedom. He struggled to sit up again, preparing to lunge at Ron once more.

Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation and applied more pressure. "Bang!"

"I've been imprisoned for twenty years!" "Bang!"

"Now I'm being taken away from my home!" "Bang!"

"And now you want to drag me back?!" "Bang!"

"You're digging your own grave~" Ron interjected before Andy could speak again, delivering another strike. "Bang!"

"Seriously, you're not Illidan~"

Who's Illidan? Andy's head was still ringing from the blows, and he barely registered Ron's sarcastic remark.

Before he could make another move, a cold object pressed against Andy's temple, and Ron's mocking voice broke the tension. "Just to prevent any accidents, I must remind you again: I'm an agent. So think twice before you act."

Despair washed over Andy. Was he really going to be sent back after managing to escape? He refused to accept it.

"Believe me or not, I've never killed anyone! I was wrongfully imprisoned! If you help me, you could even find the real murderer from another prison!" Andy shouted desperately.

Despite knowing the odds were slim, he still wanted to fight. To his surprise, Ron holstered his gun. "You can tell me his name; I might go ask around."

"You believe me just like that? Aren't you afraid I'm a vicious criminal trying to gain your trust?" Andy asked incredulously, wide-eyed.

"Of course…" Ron drew out the word teasingly, continuing before Andy lost his patience. "Of course, I don't trust you. All criminals will try to weasel their way out of their crimes; you're no different.

But you're in luck. I could use a financial expert for some work, so I'm willing to help you investigate. If you are innocent, having a clean record could be beneficial for me."

Ron spoke coolly, but deep down, as a former avid moviegoer, he understood Andy's plight better than anyone.

Understanding was one thing, but acting on it was another. Trusting a complete stranger who claimed innocence right away was highly suspect.

"Are you really willing to help me prove my innocence?" Andy straightened up in his seat, excitement gleaming in his eyes.

"Of course, but only if you are truly innocent and willing to work for me afterward." Ron shrugged casually, then fixed Andy with a sharp gaze. "Also, if you have any illegal gains, I recommend you declare them before using them. You're a smart guy; you know what I mean, right?"

Andy tightened his grip on the notebook concealed in his clothing, ultimately deciding to come clean. "I guess this is what you mean. It's a ledger of the prison warden's income from tax evasion and other crimes over the years."

Ron kept driving, showing no interest in what Andy had offered. "You know I want more than just that."

Clenching his teeth, Andy finally pulled out a small package containing his driver's license, social security card, and other essentials—everything one would need to live in America. This was also what he had planned to rely on after his escape.

He believed he had earned these through his labor; the original owner of this money was the real criminal.

"Alright, there's also this: a bank account opened under another identity by the prison warden, containing all his illicit earnings over the years—totaling $395,400."

After handing over the small package, Andy felt utterly drained, resigning himself to fate. The situation had become overwhelming.

When Ron had pointed the gun at him, Andy hadn't even seen him draw it! He hadn't noticed when Ron put the gun away either, and it seemed to vanish into thin air. Smart as Andy was, he quickly realized that this agent was not someone he could handle.

Ron nodded in satisfaction, a sly smile on his face, but he still didn't take the items Andy offered. Instead, he said, "Now we're talking. Honesty is the foundation for building trust between two strangers.

Rest assured, I won't take your things. What I need is for you to reorganize that ledger. I'll reclaim the stolen tax portion on behalf of the IRS, and the remaining embezzled funds, after deducting fines, will be your personal income. Right, Mr. Alonso Joe?"

Ron repeated the fake name on Andy's driver's license.

"Andy, the stage name you chose is quite mediocre. It's better to stick with your real name—at least until I find evidence that proves your innocence. I don't want to hire a real murderer to be around me."

Andy was at a loss for words. Did he think he came up with that awful name himself? It was that old bastard warden's choice!

"So where do you plan to keep me?" Andy asked.

"Where?" Ron replied, surprised. "Of course not! I plan to temporarily place you at my friend's house. I can't fit an extra person in my apartment right now."

Saying this, Ron tossed the items back to Andy. "Take your things. If you don't trust me, you're free to take your little package and escape to wherever you want, just like you initially planned."

Andy finally relaxed his guard for the moment. After all, he had nowhere else to go. Trusting Ron for now wasn't a bad idea—at least he wasn't sending him back to prison.

As for the thought of escaping, after witnessing Ron's quick draw, Andy had abandoned that notion. If Ron wanted him dead, it would take mere moments.

Ron had his own motives as well. On one hand, he wanted to help Andy, fulfilling his admiration for the character; on the other, he was eager to see what skills he could learn from Andy after gaining his trust.

Helping others and seeking rewards sometimes didn't conflict.

"Dom, this is my friend Andy. Can I ask you to take him in for a few days?" Ron parked near Toretto's house, then called him out. "It would be great if you could let him take a shower first and find him some clothes. Goodness, his outfit is completely out of place here."

"Your outfit is out of place too! Why don't you just take him back with you?" Toretto replied, pointing to his own bald head.

Ron and Andy were dressed in well-tailored suits, while Toretto remained in his signature tight tank top, creating a stark contrast.

"Of course, it's for witness protection. You don't really think our IRS safe houses are foolproof, do you? Keeping him here ensures I won't come back to a pile of corpses," Ron argued logically.

The warden of Shawshank was a crafty man; otherwise, he wouldn't have created such a high-end special inmate area to rake in profits. If he didn't have an impressive backing, he wouldn't dare to operate like this.

After all, even the most powerful figures today couldn't guarantee they wouldn't end up inside someday. Having such a place ensured that life wouldn't be too grim after incarceration. Thus, this peculiar prison continued to exist with various powers turning a blind eye.

Even the IRS, to which Ron belonged, was one of his backers because they often needed to send criminals who had violated laws but had been promised protection by the IRS to Shawshank, like Mr. Chen Ning.

As such, the warden had close ties with some in the IRS. It wouldn't be impossible for the warden to arrange for Andy to be killed in the safe house through another agent. Ron understood better than anyone that when an agent wanted to kill someone, they had countless methods at their disposal.

But the one thing he couldn't overlook was the tax evasion—it touched on the IRS's bottom line. Moreover, from Andy's ledger, it appeared the warden's share was just a small fraction of the total earnings. So where was the bulk of the money going?

Ron sensed something peculiar from the list of inmates in the special prison; it could link back to the drug case he was investigating!

Among the inmates in this special prison, aside from those who had engaged in illegal activities and paid taxes for protection, almost half were drug offenders. According to Mr. Chen and Andy, these people knew each other before being locked up.

Ron felt there was a bigger story at play here: street dealers, gangs, high-level chemists, and unscrupulous politicians interwoven in a drug network that spanned the nation.

There was also likely a shadowy intelligence agency involved, one whose funding was completely unregulated: the CIA. Only such a powerful agency could weave together these seemingly unrelated individuals.

"Ron, you've gotten me into trouble again."

"Don't worry, nobody will know about this trouble for now," Ron reassured him. "Once I return from China, I'll take this trouble away from you."

Andy glanced at Toretto, then back at Ron, and ultimately decided to follow Ron's lead and go with Toretto. Just before leaving, Andy handed the ledger to Ron.

"Take this."

"Andy, didn't I say these things should stay with you for now?" Ron smiled, not accepting it.

"I think it's safer in your hands," Andy said nervously, recalling Ron's earlier speculation. "At least if someone catches me and finds the ledger isn't with me, I might have a chance to survive long enough for you to save me."

Andy began to feel grateful for meeting Ron. If he had followed his original plan to escape abroad, he likely wouldn't have evaded the CIA's pursuit; the stakes were too high.

Ron laughed heartily. "Don't worry, with the best driver in the world by your side, no one will catch you."

**PS:**

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