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out of prison,” I stated.

Julie scoffed. “Prison? No. Prison would have been the least of our problems if these things came to light. It would have put Ollie, and our whole family, at the hands of very, very dangerous men. So, Ollie sued the Wrights, and Jerry got a percentage, enough to pay back Allen.”

“I see,” I muttered as my mind churned through this new information. “It all makes sense now. But … who killed Ollie?”

“Oh,” Julie said softly, “that is not a mystery. Ollie killed himself.”

“Suicide?” I repeated in shock.

“Yes,” she whispered, and tears gathered in her eyes.. “We moved to Phoenix because he was so full of shame after what he did to what he called his ‘brothers,’ that he had to get away. And a piece of him died when he left Sedona. He was never the same. That was when my son Paul found him.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied sympathetically.

“It has been very hard for him,” she said as she dropped her eyes to her lap. “We have moved back home, but he is still not the same. My brother Alex, you met him, has been helping with Paul. It is good, and I see glimpses of the Paul I used to know. But he is still buried deep.”

I watched the young Paul play on the playground, and he seemed to enjoy himself, but stayed isolated.

“Does the school have resources for him?” I asked.

“They have some,” Julie replied with a shrug before she eyed me. “Ms. Irving is your sister, right?”

“Right.” I nodded.

“Ms. Irving has been helping a lot,” Julie sighed. “Art seems to be getting to him in a place where his therapists aren’t. And she is kind and patient, and lets him learn at his own pace.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I told her honestly.

“Just between you and me,” Julie said as she leaned in closer to me and lowered her voice, “this school seems a little … how do you say … fluffy, maybe?”

I laughed. “I understand what you mean.”

“I believe school should be at a desk with teachers,” she continued with a slight frown, “and the students should learn math, history, science, and all of those things. But, right now, I look at the difference Mr. Irving, and a couple of the other ‘playleaders,’ have made in Paul’s life, at this very difficult time in our family, and I am grateful.”

“That is a unique perspective,” I commented.

“If he was in a traditional school right now,” she went on, “he would be so full of homework and teachers and rules and studying and lessons, it would be too much for him, I think. But, here, he can choose to learn at his own pace. He spends much time in Ms. Irving’s group, and a couple of the other teachers, and it has been truly helpful.”

I sat in silence and watched all the kids play in the playground as I took it all in.

Jerry was a shoddy filmmaker who took borrowed millions from a dangerous man. He couldn’t pay it back, and it was going to cost him his life. Ollie Morales, a construction worker with a dark past, fell off some scaffolding, and so Jerry found an opportunity. He blackmailed Ollie to sue the construction company and bankrupted the shit out of them. Then Ollie wallowed in guilt, until eventually he took his own life.

But what about Jerry? Who took Jerry’s life?

“Well,” I told Julie as I came out of my thoughts, “thank you for your time. I appreciate it. If you need anything, let me know.”

“I will do,” she replied with a nod.

I left the playland and peered into Playroom C to say goodbye to Harmony. She was busy, sitting on the floor with a little girl who looked to be about five. They fingerpainted, and the girl giggled at something Harmony said.

I shook my head and dug my hands in my pockets as I left the school. For the first time in my life, I was proud to be part of my family. We were weird, and quirky, and certainly not traditional. But, damn, we were an integral part of this town.

And that was something.

Chapter 17

I arrived back at the office to find a circus scene. Vicki and AJ were in the main room on their phones, but in the conference room, the media listening stations were in full effect. Ten guys with headphones were camped out taking notes like it was a World War II decryption mission. Steve was gone, but my dad was still around.

“It’s nice to hear quiet in there,” I told Vicki as soon as she got off the phone.

“Yeah,” she chuckled and glanced at the conference room, “at least we don’t have to hear it. We should pay them something, though, you know.”

“Yeah, we should,” I agreed. “How many guys we got in there? Ten?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “so … fifty a piece?”

“And dinner,” AJ piped up.

I nodded and checked my phone. It was getting late on a Friday afternoon, and the banks were probably closed.

“I’ll handle it,” I promised before I switched gears. “Where are we on the investigation? Anything?”

“Nothing so far,” Vicki sighed. “Just a whole lot of the same.”

“I’ve standardized a form and a process,” AJ said. “So, that’s the gist of what they’re doing. After they fill up a form, they turn it in.”

She handed me a stack of paper forms, and I flipped through them. It was a bunch of handwritten scrawl stating the tapes were all Hindu techno and occasionally some rants about--Barack Obama? That was a new one.

As I skimmed through all the work these guys had done, I tossed AJ the firm’s bank card.

“Run to the ATM and get out the cash

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