Sedona Law 4 by Dave Daren (free ebook reader for ipad .txt) 📗

“Gabriel does indeed drive a blue Prius,” I said. “Now we have a witness to verify that she did get in the car with him.”

“And the entrance,” Vicki asked. “Where is that?”

“It’s problematic,” I said. “Because the east entrance door is still near the window near Beowulf’s dressing room. It doesn’t completely rule out the theory that she came out the window, and without Judith visually confirming that she came out the door, we can’t put too much weight on it. But that she didn’t appear distressed or disheveled is helpful, but it’s too subjective.”

“What about that guy in the Escalade?” Vicki asked. “That seems off.”

“I don’t like the sound of it,” I said. “Definitely looks suspicious. I don’t think you can get back to the back of the stadium like that without security clearance.”

“So, security would know who he was,” she said. “If they could remember.”

“If they didn’t tell the police,” I said, “then they didn’t think it was significant. So, the likelihood that they will remember is low. But we need to follow that lead.”

“Right,” she said. “It’s definitely something. But it seems like that’s all we’ve got, are a bunch of somethings.”

“We need ‘something’ to connect them all,” I said. “I feel like we’re circulating around it all, and we’re either not seeing it, or we’re not putting it together right.”

It was at that moment, my phone buzzed. I recognized the number, it was the Sedona prosecutor’s office. I had been dreading this call ever since the case started.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Sometimes time is all you need on these things. On another note, we’ve got that thing with your family tonight.”

“What thing with my family?” I asked.

“Oh, my gosh, Henry, I swear,” she laughed. “You never remember these things! Your dad’s concert, remember?”

“Ahh, yes,” I said. “I did completely forget about that.”

My dad has been in and out of bands my whole life. By day, he’s a regional sales rep for a health food distributor, or something like that. I get lost somewhere after the word, “spreadsheets,” so I don’t know exactly what he does.

But in real life, Moondust Irving is a pretty solid guitarist and was almost a legit rock star at one point. In the 1970s, the band he was in got a deal with Columbia Records and were scheduled to tour with Creedence Clearwater Revival. They were a good band. I’ve heard their album, and they were as good as anyone out at that time.

However, mere weeks before their deal was signed, the drummer got offered a job with Led Zeppelin, and he took it. The betrayal effectively dissolved the band, and the Columbia executives walked. The defecting drummer quickly lost his fancy job, the rise to fame being too fast for him to handle, and he crawled back on his knees. But his former bandmates never forgave him.

Instead, they took a healing pilgrimage to Sedona to be near the vortexes and study under some guru. That’s how my parents met. Saffron was a hippie flower child that hung around the guru and talked about Kierkergaard and beat poets and wanted to travel the country with a backpack and bedroll like Jack Kerouac. So the guru married them in a ceremony on Cathedral Rock, and in the photos, my dad is wearing velvet corduroy pants with a giant star on the crotch. This is from whence I sprung.

My dad has mellowed out quite a bit since then, they both have, really. But he never lost his passion for music and has played with pretty much every decent musician in a fifty-mile radius. But, now this latest band has taken an unexpected turn.

“I can’t believe they’re playing the PAH,” I said.

“I know,” she said. “It’s so odd right now.”

Our rock station was holding a two-day event with pretty much all the current hot names in rock. But one of the bands backed out, and without enough time to secure another A-lister, the station had to get a local to fill in. My dad’s band, Cabbages and Kings, was on the right person’s radar and got called in for the slot. So, now he got to play at the PAH, and it had turned into a family event to see him. Only the Irvings have a family function at a rock festival.

“What time are they going on?” I asked.

“Six thirty,” she said. “We have a couple hours.

Vicki kept up with my family better than I did, and for that I was grateful. Wading through the sticky dynamics of my family politics required a bit of finesse, and she had just what it took.

We drove back to our cottage and changed. Vicki looked stunning and rock-and-roll in skinny jeans, black thigh boots, studded belt, black jacket, and fedora cap. I played it simple with all black, black jeans, black t-shirt, jacket, and combat boots.

Then we went to the Performing Arts Hall for the second time in a month. This time, we hoped to avoid a murder.

Chapter 9

Vicki and I arrived at the PAH to an entirely different crowd than we had about a week ago. We parked a block away and made our way through the sidewalks of downtown Sedona at dusk. Normally, at this time, the scene would mainly be shop workers closing up for the evening, and a handful of bars and restaurants lighting up for whatever nightlife they could offer to a town that’s in bed by midnight

Tonight was different. The festival had been underway for a couple of hours, and souped-up cars and motorcycles lined the streets with the occasional revved engine for show, and drunken revelers ambled aimlessly in boisterous groups

“Harmony just texted me,” Vicki said. “They’re on the floor level.”

It would be only mother and sister tonight. My younger brother Phoenix was currently in South