Sedona Law 6

by Dave Daren

  “Agent Winslow,” I put her on my console’s speaker. “It’s Henry Irving.”

  “Hello, Mr. Irving,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’ve got a witness on the Kelsi Matthews smuggling case,” I said. “There’s been a smuggling ring in Sedona for a while.”

  “We do have some proof of that,” she said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “But the witness says he has first hand evidence regarding the kingpin. The suspect is currently in Sedona, last known to be in a strip club called The Kitty Kat Lounge.”

  “The Kitty Kat Lounge,” she said. “Copy that. Who is this witness?”

  “His name is Jagger Campbell,” I said.

  I didn’t know his last name until Brent put it on the check.

  “I’m bringing him to my office now. Will you be there?”

  “Copy that,” she said. “We’ll send a team out there directly.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Other suspects you might look up are Roy Oberland and Irwin Montague.”

  I arrived at the office, with Jagger in tow. Leila was there, sitting on AJ’s desk, sipping from my Batman coffee mug. Both AJ and Vicki looked shocked as we walked in. I assumed Leila had caught them up, as much as she knew anyway.

  “Did you get the money?” Leila bounced off the desk.

  “Nah,” he shook his head and frowned.

  “No?” her face fell and Vicki and AJ sighed with disappointment.

  I raised an eyebrow and decided not to ruin whatever bluff Jagger was playing. I went to my desk and gathered my things for the FBI.

  “No,” he said sadly. “Henry couldn’t get me a check for that amount.”

  Everyone was quiet. It occured to me that I had never once let this team down. They didn’t quite know what to do with the idea that I might fail. Vicki studied me quizzically, and I winked.

  “Well,” Leila asked as she rubbed her hands together. “So are you going to court, or what?”

  “No,” he pursed his lips. “Why would I do that?”

  “Well,” she said. “You’re just going to give up on that money?”

  “No,” he shrugged and produced the two documents. “He got me the money. He just didn’t get me the amount I wanted. He got me more. Way more.”

  Everyone laughed, Leila squealed and jumped up and down and hugged him.

  “That fucker there,” he gestured toward me, “he knows his shit, man.”

  “Jagger also knows all about Roy and Brent smuggling,” I said.

  “I don’t know about anyone named Roy,” he shrugged. “But I know all about Brent. He tried to get me to put shit in my bags one time on tour.”

  “Seriously?” Leila asked. “Did you do it?”

  He shook his head. “It was some kind of plant, and all in all, it wouldn’t have been hard. But, I don’t know, if I got caught, I’d probably lose my visa and get deported. So, I told him no. He didn’t much like me after that. I think that’s why he tried to screw me over with Stay.”

  My phone buzzed with a text. “The FBI team is a little delayed. They should be here within the hour.”

  “The FBI team?” AJ asked. “I didn’t realize…”

  “Cool man,” Jagger mimed a writing motion. “You gotta paper? I’ll try to remember everything I should say.”

  “Yeah,” I said. I tossed him a yellow pad off my desk, and he scratched his head. “Anything I shouldn’t say?”

  “Is he testifying?” AJ’s eyes were wide.

  “He’s just going to tell the FBI what he knows,” I said. “You should be fine just telling the truth.”

  “Gosh,” Leila shrugged. “If I would have known you guys were trying to blow the cover on all the whole Roy thing, I would have told you about it all weeks ago.”

  “So you knew too?” I laughed.

  “I know about Roy,” she said. “And Tony Sanchez is in on it.”

  I glanced over at AJ who drew a deep breath and shifted in her seat.

  “You knew about Tony Sanchez?” I asked her.

  “He’s my cousin,” she sighed. “He had a really hard life growing up. Deadbeat dad, alcoholic stepdad for starters, the works. His stepdad used to beat him, and make him dig through dumpsters every week for household supplies.”

  She shuddered and shook her head at the thought.

  “So, when we were growing up,” she said, “my family took him in a lot. Gave him the only stability he ever had in life. But it wasn’t enough and now, he makes bad choices. I don’t think he really knows anything else. Once you get past the exterior, he’s the sweetest person ever and he has a good heart. He just makes...bad choices.”

  She sighed deep and traced her finger around her desk. “When the whole thing with the smuggling came out, I knew he was involved somehow. I just didn’t know what or how much. I tried to get him to tell me, so I could get him to confess. I thought if I could find out how he was involved, maybe you guys could work out some immunity deal for him. I even told him that. But, he wouldn’t tell me anything.”

  “Get him in here,” I said. “If you can get him in here before the FBI, there’s still a chance at that immunity deal.”

  “Sure,” she scrambled for her phone.

  I didn’t love that she kept that from the team, but I understood. I guess if I had to turn in my family, it would be a judgment call too, especially if I felt I could win the case without it. I smirked as I thought about the laws my family “skirted.”Yeah, I’d probably have a hard time turning them in too if it came down to it.

  AJ got on the phone, and Jagger balanced a notebook on his lap, and chicken scrawled his testimony. He was a performer, virile and full of energy. Seeing him sit there and try to organize thoughts with pen and paper, seemed unnatural. He looked like one of those guys that school had been pure torture.

  After several minutes, he tossed the notepad on a chair.

  “You mind if I grab my guitar?” he motioned outside. “Helps me think.”

  I shrugged and checked the time. We were all waiting for the FBI, and I worried that Jagger might lose his nerve if he stayed cooped up in this office much longer.

  Jagger bounded out of the office and returned with black guitar bag strapped on his back. I glanced over at Leila and I thought she would melt with pure lust. I just hoped she’d give me my Batman mug back before she disintegrated.

  “How did you get that on your bike?” I asked.

  He shrugged as unzipped it. “Straps on well.”

  He pulled out a Taylor Gibson acoustic and plopped into a chair near my desk, but it had now gravitated toward the middle of the room. I prepared a statement of all of our findings as Jagger tuned the instrument. I called Agent Winslow.

  “Winslow,” she answered in a curt tone.

  “Agent Winslow,” I said. “I’m bringing in another witness on this Matthews case.”

  “Great,” she said. “We’re on our way.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I said. “He’s a flight risk and he doesn’t want to talk. He’s a small player, but he knows all the big ones, and he wants immunity.”

  “He’s a small player, huh?” she said. “How small?”

  “He does the shipping,” I said. “He just packs and ships what he’s told. But he’s willing to name names, and he’s got them all.”

  “How are you certain that he knows this information?” she asked.

  “I’m certain,” I said. “He’s a bit player, but he’s the proof you need. I’ve debriefed this guy, and he can be a real asset to you if you can get him on the stand.”

  She was quiet for a moment.

  “Alright,” she said. “What kind of immunity?”

  “Full,” I said, “we don’t want it on his record.”

  “His intel is that good, huh?” she asked.

  “It’s that good,” I said.

  “Done,” she said. “I’ll have my team prepare the paperwork.”

  “Thanks, Winslow,” I said.

  “This guy
better be good,” she said and abruptly ended the call.

  I stared at the dead reciever for a beat and shook my head. This was definitely different than dealing with SPD.

  I made one last call that I wasn’t sure about, but I tried it anyway.

  “Peter Wright,” he answered.

  “Peter,’ I said. “This is Henry Irving. I’m an attorney that worked with--”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I remember you. You worked on the Jerry Steele case. Got that bastard Allen behind bars.”

  “Well,” I said. “I helped with that, we were able to get the police to issue a warrant.”

  “Once he came back from Germany,” Peter laughed. “Boom! Busted. I can’t thank you enough for bringing justice to where justice is due. And I know that sounds stupid and corny, but I feel strongly about getting assholes like that locked up. Look, I’m glad you called, because the wife and I were just talking about you the other day. We want to do something for you.”

  “Well,” I said. “There is something you can do.”

  “Anything,” he said. “Anything at all.”

  “Great,” I smiled.

  And I told him exactly what I was thinking.

  “Dude,” he said. “On board. Totally on board. Just let me know.”

  “Will do,” I said. “Will do.

  By the time I got off the phone, Jagger was done tuning the guitar. He had now moved to an acoustic rendition of the contentious Stay, and all the women in the office swooned over him.

  I rolled my eyes to see even Vicki looked a little flushed. I remembered that she had once confessed to being a semi-groupie in college. Oh God, I’d forgotten about that.

  Why do women always love the bad boy guitarist? I never understood that. They’re usually flat out broke. What’s sexy about that? Then, again, this one wasn’t broke anymore. I took care of that for him.

  Vicki fanned herself with her palms, and I shot her a look. She smiled and laughed. Then she emailed me via the company server.

  Subject: Jagger.

  He just reminds me so much of you.

  I burst out laughing, and she laughed along with me. Jagger kept playing, although AJ and Leila did glance at us quizzically.

  Re: Re: Jagger

  Yeah. I can see that. It’s the hair.

  Re: Re: Re: Jagger

  What can I say? He’s a horrible imitator. Maybe you can give him some style tips.

  Re: Re: Re: Re:Jagger

  I wouldn’t worry about that. I’d worry about brushing up on your CPR. I think Leila’s about to have a heart attack over there. Who gave her my Batman mug?!

  She laughed and hovered her fingers over the keys to compose a reply, but then Tony Sanchez burst through the door. Geez, he looked like death himself. The ass kicking I had given him earlier was still fresh but bandaged, and he winced as soon as he saw me.

  Jagger stopped played as soon as he saw him.

  “Whoa,” he gushed. “Whose wife did you sleep with, mate?’

  “Oh my God,” AJ slapped her hand over her mouth. “Tony, what happened?”

  Tony shook his head and glanced at me. I raised an eyebrow.

  “Roy’s a fucking asshole,” he said. “I don’t want to have anything to do with him anymore.”

  “Glad to hear it,” I held out my hand to him and he tentatively reached out, and finally shook it. He smiled ruefully at me, and I winked.

  “AJ said something about immunity?” he said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Come in the conference room with me.”

  He looked scared and AJ turned to him.

  “Go,” she said. “There’s no cops here, he can’t arrest you.”

  Tony eyed me quizzically and I smiled to soften my expression. Tony followed me into the conference room.

  “Have a seat,” I said.

  He tentatively perched on a chair and looked genuinely frightened.

  “Can I get you anything?” I offered. “Coffee, water?”

  He shook his head and I took a seat a couple of chairs down.

  “How’s your head?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “It’s alright. Sorry about earlier.”

  “I’m sorry too,” I said. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  He glanced up at me, and held my gaze attentively. The clock ticked on the wall. In the other room, Jagger had resumed playing CHN songs, and we could hear the laughter through the door.

  “AJ’s worried about you,” I said.

  “She doesn’t need to worry,” he said. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you?” I asked. “You don’t look fine.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “You’re in pretty deep water, the things you were doing with Roy and Irwin,” I said.

  “I know,” he said and he sat up straighter. The words rolled off his tongue, quickly, with the perfect intonation of a bilingual Spanish speaker. “I tried to stop, you know, but it’s hard. So much money, and these guys, I work for, they are dangerous. It’s not easy.”

  “I get that,” I nodded. “They are dangerous.”

  “AJ says that I should get a good job, and go to school,” he scoffed. “How can I do that? I don’t have the skills for a good job, and I quit school in eighth grade, because it was too hard.”

  “Why was school hard?” I asked.

  “I don’t…” he shrugged. “I’m not good at reading. Math, I do okay, but then they do that math where they don’t use numbers? What kind of math is that?”

  I laughed. “Algebra. Yeah, I didn’t like it either.”

  “See?” he said. “And you’re a rich white guy with your fancy cars and looking like a movie star in your James Bond suits, and you don’t even understand that math. How was I supposed to understand?”

  I laughed again. I was surprised about the suit comment. The last couple of months, I had relaxed to business casual for daily work, and only wore suits when I had court appearances.

  I started doing this once I realized that working with my clientele in Sedona sometimes required chasing runaway tigers or being nibbled on by a friendly goat at an actual, real life hippie commune.

  Designer suits didn’t seem to make much sense anymore. Today, in fact, I was super casual with starched dress jeans, a dark blue button down, and a sport jacket I’d left at my desk. Probably a little underdressed for the FBI, but I had a tie in my desk.

  “Well, fortunately,” I said. “No one is going to make you go to algebra class. I had another idea.”

  “Not jail? Right?” he squirmed in his seat.

  “That depends,” I said. “We’re prepared to offer your full immunity for your testimony, but on one condition.”

  “What condition?” he asked.

  “Do you know Peter and Paul Wright?” I asked. “Wright Way Construction?”

  “Wright...Way…” he searched his memory. “I think I’ve seen their vans, maybe.”

  “They work with young guys like you,” I said, “guys that have been in and out of the system and need a little help getting a leg up in the workforce.”

  He listened closely, and I could see I had his attention. I had to be careful how I worded this, because guys like Tony often had little in life other than their pride. If that got bruised, they’d shut down forever.

  “They’re a construction crew,” I said. “And they take entry level workers and will train them to own their own business one day. Would that be something you’d be interested in?”

  He shrugged. “Construction? I’ve never done that. Plus, I’ve got a record.”

  “They don’t care,” I said. “The employment comes with a six month program with classes and a mentor that help people stay away from bad influences and make better choices. They take on anyone that’s willing to make a change for the better. Are you willing to make a change?”

  He nodded and touched his bandaged head. “After this, yeah.”

  “Good to hear,” I said. “I talked to Peter Wright and he’s agreed to take you on
, if you’re interested.”

  “Okay,” he nodded. “I can try that.”

  “Great,” I said.

  “After you leave here,” I said. “Peter’s expecting you.”

  I slipped him a waiver across the table.

  “This states that in exchange for immunity today,” I said. “You agree to work the six month Wright Way program.”

  He nodded. “And no jail?”

  “No jail,” I confirmed.

  He scrawled his name on the page. I smiled.

  “I’m glad you made the right choice,” I said.

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t much of a choice. It was this or jail.”

  “Still,” I laughed. “You did good. The FBI should be here in just a few minutes, we can go into the other room, and Vicki will get you prepped for your testimony.”

  “Great,” he stood and awkwardly walked into the other room.

  AJ jumped up as soon as walked out, and looked us over with concern. I smiled at her and she looked at Tony who shrugged.

  “Vic,” I said. “Can you get Tony prepped?”

  “Sure,” she said. She rose from her seat and grabbed her notebook.

  “Tony if you want to follow me into the conference room,” she instructed.

  “Can I have someone...” he gestured toward AJ.

  “Yeah,” Vicki said. “You want AJ to join us?”

  He shrugged ruefully.

  “Of course,” AJ said.

  The three of them filed into the conference room.

  “Alright Jagger,” I said.

  I sat down next to him and grabbed his notes. He sighed and put down the guitar.

  “Let’s go over this,” I scanned his quarter page of bulleted keywords.

  “Great,” he rubbed his palms on his jeans, “Before we get started, though, I’d rather get a root canal first. Is that possible?”

  I laughed. “It won’t be that bad. Mainly you’re just going to tell them what you know. You’re not like Tony, where you’re going to have to admit to crime. You didn’t participate at all, did you?”

  “No,” he insisted. “There was the one time Brent wanted me to put a plant in my bag, but I told him no. But that was it.”

  “Good,” I said.

  I spent the next twenty minutes going over Jagger’s testimony with him until the FBI arrived.

  Agent Winslow arrived with her two partners. Jagger and I both stood. Jagger dug his hands in his pockets, and I greeted the agents warmly.