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

“Congratulations, by the way,” he smiled and I was taken aback by the voice coming out of that body.

It was deeper, but also more confident, and devoid of the filler words and pauses that characterized my brother’s speech patterns. He tossed his duffel bag over his shoulder in one quick agile movement, and his dark eyes scanned the terminal as if he had a library of thoughts all competing for his conscious mind.

“Awww,” Vicki said. “You’re so sweet Phoenix. Thank you.”

“Well,” I said. “Where do you want us to take you? You want to go home?”

“I’m not going to stay with mom and dad,” he stated.

“No?” I asked. “Do they know this?”

“Landon Verhelst is in art school in Chicago,” he said.

Landon was AJ’s boyfriend, and I knew all about him going to art school in Chicago.

“Right,” I said. “I forget you guys are all the same age.”

“Yeah,” Phoenix said. “I went to high school with him. Good guy. He said I could crash in his RV until I find a place.”

“You want to me to take you to Landon’s RV?” I asked dubiously.

I had never seen the place, but I knew Landon well enough to know things like home repairs or house cleaning weren’t things he spent a lot of time thinking about.

“If you could,” he said. “He told where to get the key.”

I had pressured Phoenix about being the whole driftless zoomer manchild, but I wasn’t sure if living in an RV, as opposed to our parents house, was the best idea. Then again, it wasn’t too long ago that I was a twenty-year-old bachelor. I never lived in an RV, but I don’t think it would have bothered me. But, if I dropped Phoenix off at an RV, I would never hear the end of it from my mother.

“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “I know mom and dad are anxious to see you, and I’ve got to get back to the office. Why don’t I take you back to the house first, and you can call me later, I’ll take you over there.”

He nodded slowly, and didn’t say anything. This was so unlike him. Usually he would have some sort of apologetic sounding response to me effectively saying no.

We loaded up in my car and Vicki kept trying to get details from Phoenix about his trip. He wasn’t saying too much, and I wasn’t sure why.

“Landon’s girlfriend still work for you?” he finally asked me.

“AJ,” I supplied. “Yeah, she does. What did you talk to him online a lot?”

“Some,” he said. “I need contacts in film. He’s got some.”

“He’s got a few,” I said.

Phoenix had been a student filmmaker, and had gone to South America partly to find a documentary subject.

“Jerry Steele died you know,” I told him. Jerry Steele had owned film studio in town, and we had been involved in the murder investigation. The grisly case had been partly responsible for our sudden trip to Tahiti.

“Seriously?” Phoenix was aghast. “What happened?”

“Allison Pierce,” Vicki said. “It was an accident.”

“Damn,” Phoenix said.

I blinked in surprise. Phoenix had always been a kid. I wasn’t used to hearing profanity roll off his tongue with such ease.

“What’s happening to Steele Productions?” he asked.

“It’s morphing,” I said. “Leila Jaxson, his old assistant, is keeping it going in some form. AJ did some work with her, she would know more.”

“Leila Jaxson,” he said. “She’s a badass. You know she used to be gypsy? She toured with a traveling artist group in a fifteen passenger van, and they all lived in an art and music commune.”

“I did not know that,” Vicki said. “But it doesn’t surprise me.”

I had met Leila Jaxson as Jerry’s assistant, and she had helped a lot in investigating his murder.

“Well,” Vicki said. “She’s working for a music magazine now.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I read some of her stuff. She’s pretty deep. Art and culture and how music captures a culture’s heartbeat.”

“You kept up pretty well with Sedona while out of the country,” I said.

“Some parts of it,” he said. “The parts I want to be part of anyway.”

“Dad’s playing Sedona Nightlife tomorrow,” I said.

“That show’s lame,” he said. “It tries too hard to make Sedona cool.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. But Leila Jaxson will probably be covering it, if you were looking to talk to her.”

It wasn’t long before we pulled up to the Irving manor. My parents house was a one story modest wood frame house.

“Lavender,” Vicki remarked and I shook my head. It seemed like everytime we came out here, the house was a different color.

The front lawn had gravel instead of grass, because Phoenix had some kind of environmental objection to grass.

“They put grass on the backyard,” I said as I pulled into the drive.

“Oh yeah?” he smiled.

“Mom’s yoga class,” I said.

“Mmm,” he didn’t seem interested.

I parked and we all went inside.

“Hello?” I called out.

My mom was the first to come out. Saffron Irving wall tall with long willowy brown hair. It was pulled back with a cotton headband, and she wore an ankle length flowing patchwork skirt and tank top. I knew the skirt was one of my sister’s designs. She had just started her own design shop on Etsy.

“Phoenix!” she exclaimed. “Oh my God, look at you.”

“Hey mom,” he smiled and his dark eyes held hers, and then she embraced him a hug. She laughed as she held him, and then he smiled ruefully when she released him.

“Vicki, Henry,” she greeted us warmly.

“Hey mom,” I gave her a quick side hug. “Good to see you.”

“How’d the case go?” she said. “Your dad said you were in court today.”

“Vicki was,” I said. “She won her case.”

Vicki smiled.