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

killed?” Vicki concluded. “That seems excessive.”

“And what motive would the killer have themselves?” AJ asked. “Other than Levinson told them to do it?”

“That’s what we need to find out,” I said. “But I know where Levinson is. Let’s send the Feds out here.”

“Where is he?” Vicki asked.

“I found him standing outside a strip club called The Pink Kitty Kat Lounge,” I said.

There was silence for a couple of seconds.

“Wait,” Vicki asked. “You were at a strip club?”

Damn.

“No,” I said. “I found him outside. I figured it was the most likely place for ass grabbing Levinson to hide out in Sedona.”

Vicki laughed. “You’re probably right about that.”

“I’m calling the agent now,” I said. “But I think we’ve got this one wrapped up pretty much.”

“Yeah,” Vicki said. “I think we do. Chalk another win up for Team HAV.”

I laughed at the resurrection of our ridiculous moniker for our firm in the early days.

“Not just yet,” I said. “There’s still a lot of holes in this one. We’re going to have to get the FBI out here to sort it all out. I’ll call them here in a second.”

The line got clearer and I could tell I was off speaker.

“I miss you,” Vicki said.

“I miss you too,” I said.

“It sounded pretty rough on the recording,” she said. “You get banged up?”

I laughed. “A bit. Eh, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Come home in one piece,” she chided gently.

“I will,” I said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said.

We said our goodbyes and I sat outside on the bench, and realized the rest of my life had begun. I would spend the rest of my life coming home to Vicki. And I felt like the luckiest man on the planet.

Chapter 17

I didn’t call the FBI right away. There was one more thing I was waiting for. One more piece of the puzzle. I knew the client Brent was meeting. I knew the way Brent did business well enough to figure out what was going on. I just needed the client to arrive.

He stormed through the parking lot, a figure all in black, and flicked a cigarette onto the concrete. He wore dark shades in the mid-afternoon.

“Jagger,” I called out.

He raised an eyebrow when he saw me, but his expression was sultry.

“Henry Irving,” he mused in his thick Australian brogue. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you weren’t the type anymore.”

“I’m not,” I said. “But I think we have a mutual interest.”

“Oh yeah?” he said. “What is that?”

“Brent Levinson,” I said. “That’s who you’re here to meet.”

He nodded slowly.

“I think you might need some help in there,” I said.

“And why would you do that?” he said.

“I need him behind bars,” I said. “If I can get him on fraud, I can get the FBI to crack him on everything else.”

“You mean the smuggling and shit?” Jagger rolled his eyes.

My mouth dropped.

“You knew about that?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Everyone knows. He’s been doing that for years. I think that’s why he’s not paying royalties to artists. He’s losing it all in the game.”

I stared at Jagger in disbelief.

“Where were you a month ago?” I mused.

“What do you mean?” he asked simply.

“You know we’ve been trying to pin down-- forget it,” I said. “Let’s come up with a game plan.”

“Cool,” he said. “Brent, via Arista, owes me two fifty in royalties for Stay.”

“You wrote Stay?” I stared at him shock.

Stay was the one hit that made Captain Hook’s Nemesis a one-hit wonder. Except the song wasn’t a hit until it was covered by Sim One, an alt rock band that sold it to a Matt Damon movie.

“Yes I wrote Stay,” he said defensively. “The fucker doesn’t want to give me credit, and it’s right there in the liner notes on the CHN album. But, Bret’s paying Johnny Hawthorne all the royalties that come in from Universal Studios. He says Sim One bought it from the band and that Johnny Hawthorne signed off on the purchase, and I should collect from Johnny.”

“That’s bullshit,” I said. “Did you sign off on the sale to Sim One?”

“I didn’t,” he said. “No one ran it by me. Well, Johnny just informed the band, and we all thought it was great. But, I guess I didn’t ask enough questions, because you know, I’m a rock star, and wasn’t totally in my right mind…”

He laughed ruefully and scratched the back of his head.

“But Johnny, or Arista, should have paid me something,” he said. “It’s only right.”

“Yeah,” I said. “They should have. The standard contract with La Vista explicitly stipulates that you should have been given due opportunity to consider royalty purchase options. And I know, because I pored over that clause of that CHN contract.”

“So,” he said. “He owes me the two fitty then?”

“He does,” I said.

“I threatened to sue him and shit,” he said. “But I don’t know the first thing about the courts. You know, and this goes all the way to fucking Matt Damon. How am I going to get Paramount Picture into court? They’re going to eat me alive.”

“They probably will,” I said. “That’s why you want to settle out of court.”

“How do I do that?” he said.

“With my help,” I said.

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m interested, but I can’t afford to pay you.”

“How about this?” I said. “I’ll go in there with you right now, and I get you your two hundred fifty grand. In exchange, you agree to testify to the FBI everything you know about Bret Levinson and smuggling.”

Jagger laughed. “On that again? Really? I can’t believe you didn’t know about that. It’s...everyone knows. He’s got a fleet of--”

“Oh my gosh,” I