by Dave Daren
“Have they broken ground?” I asked.
“They haven’t broken ground yet,” he said. “They just want to take a look at the property and take some measurements, maybe, see what they’re dealing with.”
“Sounds good,” I said.
Vicki and I loaded up and drove the twenty minutes out to our land. Our land. We bought this piece of property from the mayor, Andrea McClellan. There was a legend surrounding the land, that whomever bought it got lucky in politics. The mayor bought it from the current governor, who only sold it to her, because shortly after its purchase, he got elected, and decided he would likely spend the rest of his days in Tucson anyway.
The rumor started when it was said to have at one time belonged to Theodore Roosevelt, who had an native shaman bless it. Or something like that. I didn’t used to believe the legend. But, it was a charming story and was starting to grow on me.
We drove out through the Sedona desert, all orange and red rocks. At night the Red Rocks seem to glow orange, but by day, they were striped in a red and orange hues. The desert highway hugged the side of the mountain, and I loved the feel of the open road underneath my palm. Nothing but expansive desert and rock, underneath a cloudless Arizona sky. I cut off the air and opened the windows and sunroof.
“We are so getting a convertible,” Vicki said as she leaned into the October breeze wafting through the car.
“No doubt,” I said.
Jim Hurley had apparently already had that idea, because ahead of us, he flipped down the top of his Corvette, and we watched his gray hair rustle in the wind.
“That’s going to be us one day,” Vicki said as she took my hand over the console. “Old and gray with a Corvette.”
“Eh,” I said. “That actually looks like a mid-life crisis to me.”
She laughed. “You’re probably right. His wife’s a nutjob.”
I rolled my eyes as I thought about the day she had tried to seduce me into taking a bribe for silence about her insurance scam. I didn’t even know about the scam in the first place. I still can’t make eye contact with that woman. But, we liked Jim. He was a good guy.
We finally arrived at the land and I smiled when I saw it. I hadn’t been here since before Tahiti, and I remembered why I loved this place. We parked next to Jim, and got out of the car. The construction guy hadn’t arrived yet, so it was just the three of us.
Jim whistled. “Beautiful place. Blows my mind everytime I see it.”
“You know the legend, right?” I asked him.
Jim smiled. “Teddy Roosevelt and an Indian shaman. Sure.”
“The land is supposed to get you lucky in politics,” Vicki added.
“You headed to the governor’s mansion?” Jim turned to Vicki.
“You never know,” Vicki said. “But I couldn’t stand to part with this place.”
The land was beautiful. Green luscious grass, and a small orchard on one side, and a bubbling stream down below. Vicki and I had once picnicked by that stream, and I told her I loved her.
“Do you know where all the plumbing and electrical are?” I asked. “I want to figure out where we can actually put the house.”
“Yeah,” Jim nodded solemnly.
Then the foreman arrived, a burly man in a snazzy pickup truck. He exited the vehicle with a ten gallon cowboy hat and belt buckle I thought could be used for a weapon.
“Howdy,” he nodded as he approached our little trio. “Albert Williamson.”
He shook all of our hands and we made our brief introductions.
“So,” Albert sighed and adjusted his waistline. “You want to build on Teddy Roosevelt’s land, huh?”
“It’s them,” Jim held up his hands. “They want to build here. I just play with the computer.”
Vicki and I laughed.
“Is that right, huh?” Albert shook his head and looked us over. “Y’all think y’all are good enough for ol’ Teddy, huh?”
“No,” I said as I instantly gauged his uber patriotic type. “I wouldn’t dream of that. I like to think he’s good enough for us. If the land was good enough for Teddy, well damn, it’s good enough for us.”
Albert and Jim laughed and Albert nodded with vehement approval.
“I like that,” he said. “Alright, so let’s talk specifics. How we gonna do this?”
Over the next twenty minutes, Albert and Jim talked of pipelines and permits and building codes. I followed them for the first several minutes, but then feigned interest after that. Vicki looked as bored as I was, and I was just relieved when Jim and Albert wrapped it up.
“So,” Albert looked us over. “Looks like we can probably break ground here by the first of the month.”
“That fast?” my eyes widened.
Albert seemed pleased with my response. “Yep,” he said. “I’ve got the best crew around. We’ll get you all fixed up.”
“I appreciate it,” I shook his hand again.
“We’re looking forward to the project, Mr. Irving, Mrs. Irving,” he shook our hands.
“Park,” she corrected. “Vicki Park. We’re still engaged.”
“That right?” he raised his eyebrows. “I figured with a rock that big…”
“Family heirloom,” I said modestly.
I wondered if I would spend the rest of my life defending the size of that ring.
“Well,” he said. “Congratulations on the engagement. When’s the wedding?”
“April,” Vicki said.
Albert nodded. “Well, we’ll get you in your new house...rough estimate February. Just a couple months before the wedding.”
Vicki’s eyes lit up, and I thought she might cry.
“So we’ll be moved in by the wedding?” she gushed.
“Looks like it,” he said. “Based on the plans Jim sent. That’s what we’re going to shoot for anyway.”
“Thanks, Albert,” I shook his hand again. “We’ll be in touch.”
“You bet,” he saluted me with two fingers, and then we all broke for our vehicles.
“February,” Vicki said as we settled back into the car. “It will be the film festival again. Phoenix will be entering.”
“Which means, we’ll be entering as a production company,” I said.
“I wonder if Landon will run it again,” Vicki said.
Landon’s great uncle had owned the film festival, but he passed away last February, and we had investigated his death.
“I doubt it,” I said. “I don’t think the festival’s in the family anymore. Plus, he’d have to come home.”
“Yeah,” Vicki watched outside the window, the desert stretching before us again.
“What do you think about Landon and AJ?” she asked. “You think they’ll get married?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m sure we’ll be around to watch.”
“I can’t believe we’re doing this with the production company,” she said. “I’m actually really excited about this project.”
“Me too, honestly,” I said.
We drove back to the office in contented silence. We were getting married. We were building a house. We were investing in a production studio. If that wasn’t roots, I didn’t know what was.
Chapter 11
It was two days after the arraignment. I finally had the Matthews financial records as well as the bank statements for the band, and for Roy.
AJ was in class at the community college and Vicki was off at a hearing. She was defending a sexual harassment claim against the owner of a yoga studio that did meditation retreats in the vortexes. The claim seemed dubious, so Vicki had been trying to get it settled out of court ever since we got back from Tahiti.
It was just me in the office that morning, and I pored over the paper files that Kelsi had pulled out of her safe, and bank files Roy had sent to me. I couldn’t find much of a connection to anything.
All I had found so far was that Kelsi had an Amazon Prime addiction, and that the James Matthews Band did a lot of business w
ith Fender. I knew that guitarists frequently can get endorsement deals for writing blog posts, and so I did an online search to see if James had done blog posts for Fender. My search came up empty.
I sifted through more of the paperwork Kelsi had sent over. It looked like a lot of odds and ends that she never quite sorted through. It appeared she just grabbed file folders and left it at that.
One by one I sorted through papers, trying to make sense of everything. I was trying to sort through each page individually, and put some sort of order to it all, when I got a visit from Leila Jaxson.
“Hey,” I said. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Hi, Henry,” her voice was reserved.
“Come in,” I said. “Have a seat. What can I do for you?”
She sat down and held me with her dark eyes.
“I want to know why you’re trying to buy me out,” she stated.
“I’m not trying to buy you out, Leila,” I said as I twirled a pencil in my fingers. “I’m trying to take a bunch of struggling filmmakers with the same vision, and put them all under one roof, and put some power behind them, so that maybe they won’t be struggling filmmakers anymore. They’ll just be filmmakers.”
“What makes you think I want your help?” she shot at me.
“What makes you think I asked for it?” I countered.
“Phoenix said you practically begged him to get me on board,” she remarked.
I shrugged in agreement. “I think you’re talented. I think you know what you’re doing. Look, bottom line, sign, don’t sign. This is Phoenix, not me. I’m just writing the check.”
“To poach my screenwriter,” she accused. “Who will go with you, because she already works for you.”
“Look,” I said. “If AJ doesn’t want to work with Phoenix, that’s fine. I’m not going to hold it against her. Quite frankly, this is really all Phoenix’s problem, not mine. I don’t need nor appreciate the drama.”
She looked me over, and her expression turned from angry and suspicious to unsure.
“You’re not trying to buy us out?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “The idea hadn’t even crossed my mind.”
“Good,” she stood and jutted her chin out. “Because we’re not for sale.”
With that, she turned on her heel in a huff, and marched toward the door. But, not before she tripped on her own two feet, and fell face forward onto the floor. She didn’t move for a couple of seconds, and I got concerned.
“You alright?” I asked as I moved to help her up.
“I’m fine,” she groaned as she rose from the floor. She pushed my assistance aside.
“Be careful there,” I said. “Those ‘go to hell’ exit lines don’t work unless the delivery’s flawless. The pivot was good though. Very effective.”
She was standing now, and shot me a wry look. But her nose was bleeding.
“Here,” I grabbed a napkin and handed it to her. “You’ve got a bloody nose.”
I gestured toward the bathroom.
“Shit,” she mumbled and disappeared into the restroom.
I tried to do paperwork but then thought about what she had said. She and AJ did have something going there. Should I buy them out? She did have a point about AJ having a conflict of interest in joining Phoenix’s company. I had noticed AJ said very little about the studio project. Was it because she had reservations? Plus, we didn’t need enemies in the Sedona film community.
Leila emerged from the bathroom, looking a little deflated but grabbed her purse with what dignity she could find.
“Thank you for your help,” she mustered out.
“I know you’re not for sale,” I said. “I totally get artistic integrity and all. I’ve been in the entertainment world a long time. I know what your work means to you.”
“Exactly,” she puffed her chest out.
“You want to say something to the world,” I continued. “Your truth, your vision. No one can take that away from you.”
“Where are you going with this?” she asked.
Smart woman.
“But, say,” I continued. “If you were for sale. Just, hypothetically speaking… “
I threw up my palms in surrender.
“Not that you are,” I assured her. “But just so that I know where the market in this town is. You know, we’re new players and all. I’m just interested to know where the industry in town is. If you were, hypothetically for sale, how much would you sell for?”
“Cut the shit, Henry,” she rolled her eyes. “I know what you’re doing.”
I shrugged and pursed my lips. “And you know what you were doing, coming in here with a line like that. No one ever asked you to sell. And if you were that threatened, you could have sent that message through Phoenix. But, you chose, to come out here, and tell me, the investor behind the curtain, in person, that you weren’t for sale. Why was that, Leila?”
“Because I think you’re bullying AJ,” she shot back.
“Really?” I asked. “I have not said a single word to her about the studio. Not. One. Word. I purposely left that between her and Phoenix. So that’s not why you’re here. Tell me Leila, why are really here?”
“Alright,” she sat back down in front of my desk. “Before Jerry’s death, Steele Productions was the number one independent production studio in the county. And you can say what you will about Jerry, I’ll agree he had his flaws, but he poured a lot of money into that place.”
“Most of it was borrowed through underworld loan sharks that led his untimely demise,” I said.
“No,” she countered. “His untimely demise was due to his wandering dick.”
“Both statements are equally true,” I said. “Continue.”
“However,” she said. “When he died, the money dried up, the studio was shuttered, and the whole enterprise was shrouded under a bad name.”
I shifted in my seat. I knew all of this, and she knew I knew all of this. Why was she telling it to me?
“And I’ve been holding on to whatever remains of that studio,” she said. “But you come along, with your moneybags, and your Hollywood contacts, and you’re going to blow us out of the water.”
“Then join us,” I said. “You know every camera operator, every actor, every sound tech in town. They know you. They like you. They trust you. We need you on our side. So, I’m only going to ask you this one more time, Leila. How much to buy you out?”
I leaned back in my chair and let the question hang in the air for a moment. I knew I didn’t need this much of a dramatic effect to get her to sell. She wanted to sell, she just couldn’t ask for it. I just thought I’d give her the courtesy of the negotiation scene. Besides, I was bored. I had been looking at bank records all day. This was much more interesting.
“Okay,” she rubbed her hands together. “I’d have to talk to AJ, of course. It’s down the middle.”
“Of course,” I said.
“But,” Leila pulled a pencil off my desk, and scrawled on a sticky and slid it to me. I read the number and smirked inside. The number was probably more than the company was worth for sure, but it was well below what I wanted to pay.
“Done,” I said.
Her eyes widened. “Okay. Well that that’s. “
“Get with AJ,” I said. “And I’ll double check with Phoenix. As long as everything checks out, come back tomorrow, I’ll have a check and the paperwork.”
She looked shocked.
“Well, thanks,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She left and I texted Phoenix the news. I was actually glad to buy them out. It would eliminate any awkwardness with AJ. Leila sold the company, AJ got a cut--a nice chunk of change. Now, Leila was joining with Phoenix, and if she wanted to remain on board, that was entirely her decision. I had, in the process, also secured Leila Jaxson. Which was a pretty big score. Not bad for a morning’s work.
Now back to who did or didn’t smuggle the elephant tusks into the Matthews backyard.
I needed a fresh angle on this case, so I went back to the police photos of the Matthews backyard. There were the piles of tusks in a shed. There were several views of the tusks. There was another piece of evidence we hadn’t known about. A suitcase, with her luggage tag on it, with residue from the tusks. I rubbed my face. She was busted, and there was no way around it.
She was going to jail for a long time.
I texted Vicki. Where are we on Irwin Montague?
She texted back. They’re looking for him. Hot on his trail.
Deja vu. I replied.
When we had met Irwin, he had been involved with a drug dealer named Shawn Drake who led us on a pretty involved car chase through most of Arizona. I was personally involved in it at one point, until the cops got there. But then the whole thing ended in a fantastic rain of glass as the police chased him back through downtown Sedona and he tore up the shop windows. It was pretty cool to watch, that is, until massive shards of glass flew through the town center and several nearby cars were destroyed. There were some shops downtown that still hadn’t totally recovered. Still, Shawn’s car chase was among the more adrenaline fueled memories of my career.
I don’t think it’s a car chase, a la Shawn, she replied.
Too bad. I said.
With the Irwin lead still in the air, I wondered about his contacts.
What about the shipping guy you met with? I asked Vicki.
Tony Sanchez. Universal Shipping. He’s a closed book. She replied.
I’ll try him again. I answered.
Good luck. She said.
I looked up an address for Universal Shipping. It was easy enough to find, and so I drove out there.
It was way out in the country, desert flatland. Dust and grime, and emptiness. If I were to pick a shady shipping place, this would be it. It was a large gray metal building, two stories high, part warehouse, part office. Rows and rows of metal shipping containers rose on either side of the building. With a dormant crane hovering just above them.
I parked in the dust with all the other vehicles, and my tires sent a cloud of dirt swirling around me. I got out and almost coughed on the dust cloud. Geez, people. There was a reason they invented concrete parking lots.