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

saltwater pool,” Vicki’s voice rang with delight.

“Uh-huh,” I said. “I see we got the enlarged deck in, with the outdoor kitchen.”

I pointed to a figure on the document.

“The deck,” Vicki smirked. “He wants to pretend he’s going to have these elaborate backyard parties.”

“Hey, I might,” I protested.

“Right,” she giggled. “As long as we get it catered, sure.”

Jim laughed as Vicki and I ping ponged back and forth.

“Oh, what’s that?” I teased Vicki. “I’m sorry, I forgot who made the scrambled eggs slash science experiment the other day. Oh, wait...now I remember that was you.”

“Well, I’m not trying to put in a massive second kitchen,” Vicki snickered.

“They do this all day,” AJ piped in from across the room. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I know,” Jim laughed. “I’m used to it already.”

“I’m sorry,” I teased AJ. “Do you like getting paid?”

She laughed heartily.

“Yeah, right,” she shook her head. “You couldn’t survive without me.”

“Alright,” Vicki said. “So we’re good on the amended plan?”

“As long as we don’t have the bathroom on the roof,” I replied.

“Oh God,” Vicki rolled her eyes at my reference to another ‘designer’ we had looked at.

“A bathroom on the roof?” Jim asked.

“Alfred,” I shook my head. “The Count.”

“The Count,” Jim smiled. “How is he these days?”

“He went backpacking through Europe,” Vicki told him. “I don’t think he has plans to ever come back. You know after the whole thing with Jerry…”

A shadow crossed Jim’s face. We had originally met Jim because he was married to Claire, Jerry Steele’s ex-wife and the mother of his son Thad. When Jerry Steele had shown up dead at a rehearsal, all leads pointed directly to Alfred. Claire was high on our suspect list for a while. Once the real truth came out--that it was neither Aflred, nor Claire or Jim, we hired Jim to design our house.

“Sorry we missed the memorial,” I shrugged. “We had to get out of town.”

“No, I get it,” Jim sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It was a shock to us all. Claire and Thad have had quite the time with it themselves.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I heard the studio has officially been shuttered.”

He nodded. “Leila Jaxson is taking what’s left of it, and going her own direction.”

He pointed to AJ. “Aren’t you working with her?”

“I am,” she replied. “We’ve got our first screenplay, and she’s moving forward with it.”

Jim nodded a faraway look in his eyes.

“You know that Claire’s not on board with it,” he eyed her.

“I realize that,” AJ shrugged. “But she doesn’t understand what Leila is trying to do. She’s trying to recreate Jerry’s legacy in some way.”

Jim chortled. “Yeah. I’m a neutral party, really. I’m Switzerland. But, she sees it as trying to make money off Jerry and the business he had built.”

“We’re not,” AJ answered. “Honestly, you said it yourself. Steele Productions was full of debt, and it’s a fresh start on what he had left.”

He sighed. “She doesn’t see it that way.”

I raised an eyebrow. I’d about had enough of my architect badgering my paralegal.

“Alright, Jim,” I said. “These look great. We love the new changes, let’s start moving on these changes.”

He rolled up the blueprints. “Great. Glad to hear. I’ll get the permits filed, and we should be breaking ground soon.”

Vicki squealed, and I smiled.

“Love it,” I said.

He raised the blueprint roll in affirmation, and shot AJ one more smile before he walked out the door.

“Whoa,” AJ said once he had left. “I had no idea Claire and Jim were so against the new studio.”

“Do you even have a name?” Vicki asked as she sipped her coffee.

“Right now she’s calling it,” AJ scrawled on a notepad and held it up, “Pair o’Dime Change Productions. It’s kind of a lighteheard play on like on the phrase ‘paradigm change.’”

“Has she filed for a business license?” Vicki asked.

“No,” AJ said. “It’s all so new. She’s up to her neck in calls and meetings.”

As Vicki and AJ continued to talk about Leila’s studio, I found all the JMB band members on Facebook. There was a drummer named Steve, the guitarist and dulcimer player Gary, Charlie played bass, Tim on the keyboard, and Roy the manager.

With James and Kelsi, there would have been at least eight people, depending on if the other guys brought a significant other. That was a lot of airfare for a small town local band.

With some luck, I secured contact information on all the guys, and started making calls. If these guys were all in Africa with James and Kelsi, they would have had to have seen something. Not that they would necessarily admit to anything. I started with Steve.

“Steve Borroughs?” I asked when the call was answered.

“Yeah?” he said. “Who’s this?”

His voice was gruff and he sounded like he’d been asleep. I clicked on his photo and found out I was talking to a tall, broad shouldered man in his early forties. In the photo he had wavy brown hair, long enough to show he had the hint of an edge, but short enough to show he was gainfully employed.

“My name is Henry Irving,” I said. “I’m an attorney with--”

The line suddenly went dead.

“Well,” I said. “I’m off to a good start.”

“What happened?” Vicki asked.

“He hung on me,” I protested.

“Who?” AJ asked.

“His name is Steve Burroughs,” I said. “He’s the drummer for the James Matthews band.”

“Oohhh,” AJ made a face.

“What?” I asked.

“I know Steve a little,” she said. “Or I know of him. He’s up to his neck in debt. And so, he thinks you’re trying to collect.”

“Debt?” I asked. “For what?”

“You name it,” she said. “I went to high school with his daughter. She was always wearing