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

“I don’t disagree,” I said. “The way things have been going, I doubt it will take ten years.”

We walked up the sidewalk toward a glass door and I put my arm around her. She looked every bit on the “good side” of thirty tonight, in jeans, a white tank top, an open plaid shirt, and black flats. We spent our days out fighting the world and trying to make our mark upon it. Sometimes it felt good to just be young and carefree.

“I’m glad you’re on this journey with me,” I told her.

She smiled up at me with her dark eyes and creamy complexion.

“What do you think would have happened to us if I hadn’t come to Sedona during Harmony’s case?,” she asked.”If I decided you needed space and family time and all of that?”

I blinked in surprise as we neared the lobby door.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I hadn’t thought about it. I guess...well, Harmony may or may not have gone to jail, who knows. Either way I would have been miserable out here trying to defend her. Afterward, I probably wouldn’t have stayed. And you and I would have probably hooked up at some point, but it wouldn’t have been the same, and it wouldn’t have lasted.”

“It’s funny how small choices like that can change our lives forever,” she said.

“Hmm,” I smiled. “Don’t get too reflective on me tonight. We’ve gotta get through charades and headbanz, and God only knows what else.”

“You complain,” she said, “but you’ll have a good time.”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I thought I was a big fat snob.”

“Oh you’re definitely still that,” she laughed.

We entered the building to a long a lobby with frosted glass and laminate floors, and long narrow hallways.

“She said the sixth floor, apartment twelve,” Vicki recalled and gestured toward an elevator.

We took the elevator up to the sixth floor and got off an open air alcove with a garden fountain, and patio furniture that surrounded an unlit fire pit. She knocked on door number twelve, and Gabriel opened it.

“Vicki, Henry,” his gregarious voice boomed. “Glad you could make it.”

Then he did a little folded hands bow. Gabriel was tall, and well-built, and had untamed curly black hair that reached just above his shoulders. His large dark eyes were always intense and expressive, and he typically dressed like he was appearing in a costume play. Today it was a ruffled white top, with black slacks, and I half expected him to have a sword on his hip. It wouldn’t be the first time in the last few months I had met a legit swordsman.

We had met Gabriel when he had whisked Julianna away from a nude dance troupe, that was also a five way relationship. It went well until the murder.

The one man in the midst of the relationship was found dead backstage, and all leads pointed to Julianna. We saved her ass, and she was eternally grateful. So grateful, that at one point during the case, she and Gabriel had suggested group sex with Vicki and I.

That really freaked me out. I still haven’t gotten over it.

“Gabriel,” I greeted him.

Gabriel’s face softened into a welcoming smile.

“Henry,” he greeted me in a tone ooozing with warmth.

“Good to see you again, Gabriel,” I held out my hand.

Gabriel took, my hand, grasped it, then cupped his palm over mine.

“No,” he insisted. “We don’t do that among friends.”

Then, in one quick motion, he pulled me into a full frontal hug and grasped me tightly in a bear hug.

“I’m so glad you came,” he whispered over my shoulder as he patted me.

Gabriel finally let go, and then he smiled at Vicki.

“Good to see you too, Goddess of light,” he told her.

He took her hand placed his lips to it.

“Oh,” Vicki looked surprised.

I just rolled my eyes. This was going to be a fun evening. Vicki and I followed Gabriel into the living room. The decor in the apartment was a hippie chic flavor. Bright pastels, and string lights on the wall, and paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, and pastel and beaded throw pillows covered on a hand painted futon. A handmade wooden bookcase overflowed with vinyl records, and old books, and an acoustic guitar sat on a stand against one wall. A multi-colored knit rug took up the rest of the open living room. About half a dozen couples, all in their mid twenties sat around the living room, and the volume and energy were high.

“Guys,” Gabriel called out, “this is Henry and Vicki.”

“Oh, we’re glad you could make it,” Julianna smiled and rose from her spot on the futon. She wore a green ankle length dress with beaded fringe and sandals, and had her long red hair pulled back in silver hairpins.

“We are too,” Vicki said and Julianna likewise embraced both of us in a side hug.

“I heard you were engaged,” Julianna said. “Let me see that ring.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s a huge one,” a voice came from the floor. Leila Jaxson rose from the floor to greet us. “Their grandmother was a legit Downton Abbey style British debutante.”

“Hey, Leila,” I said. “Good to see you. Didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Small town,” she shrugged. “Only so much to do around here.”

“Oh, are you the film investor guy?” a tall Australian rose up behind her.

“Yeah,” Leila answered. “This is Henry and Vicki. Guys, meet Jagger.”

Her eyes twinkled when she said his name. Jagger was a tall, muscular Australian with frizzy blond hair that hit his mid back. He wore jeans, combat boots, and a sleeveless white tee with the Australian flag centered on it. I caught random tattoos here and there.

“Hullo,” his voice came out slight and breathy as he smiled.

“Leila and Jagger,” I said. “Perfect combination. Clapton