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that self taught, self employed hipsters made the best graphic designers. Once they start working for a firm, they lose something. I did advise them to rethink the name, for the simple purpose of making themselves a target. They looked at me like I’d just insulted their mothers. So, “420 Design” it remained.

I had just set down my bag, when my phone buzzed.

“Henry Irving,” I answered.

“Hello Irving, it’s Chet Levinson,” a voice replied.

Chet Levinson was the county prosecutor. He and I’d run into each other in the courtroom a handful of times.

“Chet,” I said as I sat down in my chair. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” he grunted. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about this Jerry Steele case. You got a minute?”

“Sure do, Chet,” I said. “What’s up?”

He sighed and began slowly. “We’re looking at this case, and we’ve got a prime suspect.”

“Alfred Dumont,” I supplied.

“Yeah,” he said. “So, you’re defending him, is that correct?”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

He paused for a moment as if finding the right words. “To put it bluntly, we’ve been around this before, you and I, and I don’t know what the hell is going on with the police force in this town, but I don’t need another false murder charge on my watch.”

I nearly choked on my coffee.

“There have been … a few,” I said diplomatically.

“There have been a few,” he agreed.

Three to be exact. I’d proven the Sedona Police wrong on a homicide charge on three separate occasions.

“So,” he went on, “I’m prepared to make a deal with you.”

I furrowed my brow. Where was this going?

“I’ve talked to the DA,” he said. “We’re going to hold off on charging Dumont. If you can do, whatever it is you do, and find the killer, then we won’t charge Dumont at all. But the DA’s only going to give me a week.”

“You want me to solve the murder?” I clarified. “Isn’t that the police’s job?”

“They think they have the evidence,” he sighed. “So, they’re done looking. They’re going to charge Dumont. But I don’t want another Harmony, Juliana, or Horace.”

He referred to our three clients the police had wrongfully charged with murder.

“I can buy your client a week,” he added, “but that’s all I can do.”

“Why should we care?” I asked as I drummed my fingers on my desk. “To be frank, if the police bring some bogus charge again, I’d be happy to beat it in court again, and formally lodge a civil rights complaint against the city. I should have done that after Harmony’s case, but I definitely will if they pull this.”

“L-look,” Chet stuttered nervously, “it’s in your client’s interest to avoid a jury trial if you have the ability to. You and I both know you bill a lot more hours on a case that goes to court. The ethical thing to do is investigate it yourself now and save your client the trouble long term.

“Somehow I feel like I’m still doing you more of a favor than you’re doing for me,” I replied dryly.

“Might be true,” he laughed, “but favors add up in this town.”

“Okay,” I sighed. “I’d have to run it by my client, but aside from that, I think we’ve got a deal.”

“Good,” he responded, and he sounded relieved. “Let’s get this thing wrapped up.”

“Thanks, Chet,” I said.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I just hope it works.”

We said our goodbyes and ended the call.

“Well,” I drawled as I turned to Vicki and AJ, “that was an interesting call.”

“What did Chet want?” Vicki asked.

“They want to cut us a deal,” I told her. “They’re ready to charge Dumont with the murder. But Chet doesn’t think he did it.”

“If he doesn’t think he did it, then why charge him?” AJ asked.

“Because,” I said with a shrug, “the police think they have enough evidence for a sloppy conviction. And they would charge him, but … ”

“But what?” Vicki asked with a frown.

“But then there’s us,” I said.

Vicki cocked an eyebrow. “What about us?”

I grinned and winked at her. “The prosecution doesn’t want to go against us.”

Vicki and AJ looked at each other, and then they cheered and whistled.

“So,” I chuckled, “they’re prepared to offer us a deal. They’ll hold off on charging Dumont, if we find out who really did it.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve done before?” AJ pointed out.

“Precisely,” I replied and then held up one finger. “But there’s one catch.”

“What’s that?” Vicki asked.

“We’ve only got a week,” I said.

“A week?” AJ gaped. “That’s not enough time.”

“Typically, the prosecution has twenty four hours to formally charge someone after they are arrested,” I said. “Chet worked out a deal with the DA on our behalf, or Alfred’s behalf, whatever way you want to look at it to delay the arrest.”

“That’s huge,” Vicki murmured.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “but we’ve got to get cracking.”

“Absolutely,” AJ said as she pulled out a notebook and shuffled to a blank page. “Where should we start.”

I smiled at her enthusiasm. “Let’s start with the basics--the crime scene.”

“The studio,” AJ jotted down. “Perfect.”

“Vic,” I instructed, “call the client, tell him what’s going on. AJ and I are going over to the studio.”

“Got it,” she said.

“Grab the camera,” I added. “Let’s go.”

We had a Canon Rebel DSLR with a full lens kit we’d used a couple of times. She found it quickly, and we headed out to my car. I stopped off at the police station to get the keys to the studio, and it wasn’t long before we were back at the warehouse I never thought I’d see again.

“It’s so creepy now that we know someone died here,” AJ whispered.

I nodded slowly, and we approached the glass door of the studio. It was all

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