Sedona Law 6 by Dave Daren (best non fiction books of all time .TXT) 📗

“Okay,” Harmony insisted. “Let me see the ring.”

Vicki held out her hand and my sister giggled. “It looks so good on you.”

“I heard you got engaged,” I turned around to see Toby Lithgoe coming up behind me.

“Toby,” I said. “Good to see you.”

Harmony and my mother cooled, and they shot Toby a withering glance and then silently walked away. Toby awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

Toby had been Harmony’s public defender, and the catalyst for our relocation. He also had been an old high school acquaintance of mine, and since we were both lawyers in a one horse town, I found it beneficial for my professional life to bury the hatchet with him.

After all, Harmony didn’t go to prison, and Toby had apologized, albeit to me and had unwittingly assisted our firm with another case. I, personally, had decided to let bygones be bygones. Apparently, my mom and sister--not so much.

“Give it time,” I told him.

Toby made a face like he knew better.

“How’s it going? You here with anyone?” I asked in an abrupt subject change.

Toby had always been labeled as attractive. He was tall with perfectly disheveled blond hair and a scruffy beard. Today he wore black skinny jeans, a gray button down shirt, with a black cashmere pullover and he had sunglasses perched on his head. He leaned against the wall as he chatted, and no matter who he was talking to, his blue eyes constantly scanned the room in search of alternate conversation.

Toby changed dates about as often as most people change their underwear. Most of his girlfriends were of the barely legal sort. I suspected women our age found his manner more off putting than the size of his wallet could compensate for. The younger ones didn’t know any better, and couldn’t get past the phrase, “hot young lawyer.”

Yeah. The hot young lawyer card will get you laid any time of day or night. Hell, based on some of the associates at my old firm in L.A., I didn’t even think you even had to be young. Or even hot for that matter.

Pre-Vicki, I couldn’t say that I hadn’t cashed the card in a time or two. There was no shortage in the world of shallow status obsessed women up for a good time. But, if you were looking for something real, that was a whole different story. I guessed Toby hadn’t figured that part out yet.

“Nah,” Toby said. “I’m flying solo tonight. I was dating this super hot waitress that looked exactly like Britney Spears from the early 2000’s. I mean, it’s like creepy, how dead on this girl looks like her. I’ve got to introduce you. Dude, it’s like nuts. But, then we got in a big fight and now she’s pretending like she’s out with her ex.”

“She not?” I found the anecdote oddly amusing.

“No,” he said. “I know her ex. He does overnight meditation retreats in the vortexes, and he’s got a whole group out there right now. I’ve got two clients out there with him posting on Instagram.”

“So then where is she?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “My guess is she’s sitting at home watching Netflix drunk texting me screenshots of her Tinder matches.”

I laughed. “Your love life is entertaining.”

The smile briefly faded from his face, and a shadow passed across his expression.

“Not everyone has what you have, man,” he said softly. Then, he slapped me on the back and walked away. I turned to Vicki, who was engrossed in a conversation with Julie, another friend who was dating the police detective, Leonard Colby.

I watched her eyes light up as Julie told an animated story, complete with hand gestures and jokes. God, I loved Vicki.

Feedback resonated from the stage as an emcee took the microphone.

“Alright, people,” the emcee said. “Let’s get this party started!”

A loud cheer rose from the room which had now gathered to about two hundred people. The house lights darkened, and the stage lights came up. Camera operators with headsets scurried to their places and the seats filled quickly. Vicki and I missed the rush for the chairs so we were squashed to standing room only on the sides.

The standing room areas filled to about six or seven deep, and between the excessive body heat and the television lighting, the temperature in the room skyrocketed. Within minutes, I could pull visible drops of water off my face.

The prevailing din rose like a mushroom cloud hovering the rafters. Two scantily clad college girls snaked their way through the crowd toward the front and in the rush nearly pushed Vicki over. A production assistant somehow managed to circulate through the room and offered free water bottles.

A couple of people around us took the drinks, and I grimaced as water splashed on my arm. I turned to Vicki, who rolled her eyes. She was in a dress and heels and found an abandoned barstool to perch on. I stood next to her and leaned against the wall penned in by the crowd.

Then the emcee came back up, and look straight into the camera. “Welcome to Sedona Nightlife.”

The roar of the crowd rose to a deafening crescendo as the camera panned shots of the crowd. I noticed they all had the logo for Starbright Media. I turned to Vicki and pointed at the logo and she nodded.

We recently had a big murder case that centered around Starbright Media and we ended up becoming somewhat familiar with its eccentric owner, Marvin Iokava. I scanned the crowd to see if I could spot him in some of the VIP clusters, but I didn’t see him. I did however, see the two college girls from earlier try to flash the camera.

Then the first guitar strains erupted and I thought the crowd would lose their minds. It was a hipster