Sedona Law 5 Dave Daren (free ebooks for android txt) 📖

shipping containers together, and we configure them like blocks to produce this shape and then, it will create this look. It’s eco-friendly and will be a gorgeous piece of art.”

Vicki took a call at this point, although I didn’t know if it was real or fake.

But The Count went on and on about the shipping container house.

“Alright,” I finally cut him off, “this looks like something. Vicki and I will look it over, talk it over, and circle back around to you with an answer.”

“I trust you will, good sir,” he said and bowed.

The Count left the office, and I stuck the plans in a drawer. I appreciated the effort, but a house made of shipping containers? I’d heard of hipsters in Portland doing that, but that wasn’t exactly the lifestyle I was pursuing.

“Clare left town again,” AJ suddenly announced and drew my attention from Alfred and his eccentricity.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“She left Thad with one of the neighbors,” AJ replied. “They’re fed up and called Leila to pick him up from school. Leila called Vicki.”

“She’s in New York,” Vicki added. “Or so she told the neighbors.”

“New York?” I repeated with a frown. “Who goes to a stress vacation to New York? People take stress vacations from New York.”

Vicki and AJ laughed.

“He doesn’t get it, does he?” AJ asked as she looked at Vicki.

“Nope,” Vicki responded with a smirk.

“What?” I glanced between the two of them and furrowed my brow. “What am I missing?”

“Shopping,” they said in unison.

“I would have said Broadway,” I muttered.

“There’s that,” AJ said, “but Broadway’s too mainstream, and expensive. Clare would have gone to some off Broadway thing.”

“Like Ghoti,” Vicki said, and they both laughed.

Ghoti was our last big client, a Brooklyn based nude performing arts group.

“You might be onto something there,” I chuckled. “See if you can find any link to Clare and whatever’s left of Ghoti in Brooklyn.

“I was kidding,” Vicki snickered. “I don’t think she really went to New York to see Ghoti. I think she’s lying and doing something sneaky, like hiding out because everyone is about to find out she killed her ex-husband.”

“She doesn’t know we think she killed her ex-husband, though,” I pointed out.

“Her guilty conscience suspects, maybe,” AJ suggested.

“Still,” I said with a shake of my head, “who’s in Ghoti and back in New York?”

“Julianna’s here,” Vicki replied, “Olivia’s in jail, Beowulf is deceased, so that just leaves Chloe.”

“Alright,” I said, “find out if Clare knows Chloe or if Julianna could have hooked them up. Also, we still haven’t reached a solid alibi on Clare. She said she was at yoga, and she wasn’t. Why lie?”

“Because,” AJ said, “she was doing something really embarrassing. Something like having a boob job.”

“No,” Vicki argued. “She couldn’t have done that because after a boob job you have to wear these plastic bags for weeks that fill up with fluid, and you have to drain them every few hours or you can get sick.”

“Have you had one?” AJ was aghast.

“God no,” Vicki wrinkled her nose, “I’ve had friends who have. They hurt like hell.”

“I so want to get one,” AJ said and stared into her bustline. “I’ve got nothing.”

“Oh my God,” I groaned. “I do not need to be here for this.”

I left the room, and I heard them both dissolve into laughter.

“Sorry, Henry,” AJ laughed and called after me. “You can come back now. It’s safe.”

With the clock ticking and so many loose ends, I sat down at my computer and tried to type out everything I knew. At this point, it looked like Clare killed Jerry. She had a motive, the million dollar life insurance policy. She also had the means since, like everyone in town, she had the keypad code to the back of the studio. And, if she wasn’t at yoga, like she said, she might have had the opportunity.

We needed security footage.

I texted Leila. Is there a security camera for the back door?

She replied quickly. Yes. The police already have the files, but it’s a poor angle. I can get it to you.

I wondered why a security camera would be placed at a poor angle. That kind of defeats the purpose. Could it be that it was tampered with?

I shot Leila a quick response. Sounds good. Can you bring it by our office?

It was about an hour before she replied. I downloaded the security footage on a flash drive. Come get it at The Black Sun.

I furrowed my brow. Why did Leila want to meet me at an underground bar downtown?

The Black Sun was just a couple blocks away, so rather than mess with downtown parking, I walked. The bar was a converted warehouse and had street art painted all over the front, and it reminded me of something I would see in a big city, not in Sedona.

It was mid-afternoon, so the crowds had not gathered yet. The inside was a dark cavern with pulsating rock music playing overhead. I guessed this was where Sedona’s goth emo crowd congregated, since a handful of younger seedy types sat at tables day drinking, and the stage was currently empty.

I found a bartender with three chin rings and asked if he’d seen Leila Jaxson. It took two or three tries in the loud room for him to hear me.

“Upstairs,” he shouted as he pointed to a flight of industrial metal stairs.

I gestured a ‘Thank you,’ and headed up the stairs. It was a little quieter on the upper floors than the rest of the bar, and there were tables and leather couches scattered about. Finally, I heard laughter and found a half open door.

I slipped inside and saw Leila sitting at a table with a bunch of guys.