Sedona Law 2 Page 8

  It was then I saw Vicki in the crowd, sitting in a corner with Rachelle and Jeannie. They were all laughing, so I walked over and wrapped my arms around her. Her eyes were bright and smiling, and her face was flushed from deep laughter. She held my gaze and the moment was magic. I leaned over and kissed her.

  The announcement for the next improv group came, and I watched as the group assembled. It was then something caught my eye. The papier-mâché hippos were in the den, stashed in a corner. They were painted gray, but up close the paint was peeling, and some of the newsprint showed through. It was a headline for an old news story, and I had an idea.

  I pointed the headline out to Vicki.

  “Hometown Attorney Gets Justice for Hit and Run Victim,” she read as she squinted. “So what?”

  “Look at who the attorney is,” I prompted.

  In the next scrap was a fractured photo.

  “Toby Lithgoe,” she said.

  Toby Lithgoe and I had gone to high school together. He was originally Harmony’s public defender, but he didn’t do her any favors. He was as intelligent as anyone but too lazy to do any real investigating. He settled pretty early in the case for a crappy plea deal that would have ended up with her being a convicted felon and serving two years.

  Since she was later proved innocent, this was an epic embarrassment to him. Vicki and I, along with AJ, ended up doing his job behind his back, until Vicki and I could get licensed in Arizona. We took over the case and got her completely exonerated.

  Vicki looked confused. “What about Toby?”

  “We get him to get Brook to sue Horace,” I said with a broad grin. “To defend Horace in the civil suit, we’d have to have the financial records from the festival. While we are at it, we can find out what Brook has been hiding. Once we use that information to exonerate Horace, the civil suit would be dropped.”

  “Why would Toby do that?” she asked.

  “Well,” I started, “if he thinks Brook is already going to sue Horace, then he’ll think he might as well take it.”

  “Why would he think that?” she inquired with a frown.

  I laughed. “Because that’s what I’m going to tell him.” I smiled, pulled out my phone, and made the call.

  “Toby,” I greeted him with feigned enthusiasm once he came on the line.

  “Henry Irving,” he said. “Nice to hear from you.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Likewise.”

  “How’s your sister?” he asked.

  “Not in prison,” I answered.

  “Good to hear that,” he said with a laugh. “Give her my regards.”

  “Will do,” I said. “Listen, would you be up for lunch sometime this week? I’ve got some business I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “Absolutely,” he agreed.

  We set a time and place for later in the week, and then I ended the call.

  Vicki laughed.

  “You’re bad,” she said. “You’re so bad.”

  Chapter 7

  “Chet,” I began, “this is ridiculous. Why do we not have an autopsy?”

  I pounded my desk and tried not to throw the phone or curse out the prosecutor. A tantrum would not be good for further business in this town. Two days had passed since the party at my parents’, and I had been hounding the prosecutor to order an autopsy. I was getting the runaround on all fronts and getting nowhere with anyone.

  Now I was starting to get impatient.

  “I understand you’re upset, Henry,” he said. “We’re trying to sort it all out on our end. Someone’s dropped the ball somewhere along the line, and--”

  “I’ll say,” I said and collapsed into my chair. “They’ve damn near shattered the ball.”

  “We’ll get it Henry,” he promised. “It’s just going to take some time.”

  “Jesus, Chet,” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s been almost a week since the body was found. The arraignment is in two days. Why are we just now getting to this?”

  “It looks like … ” he trailed off and appeared to be rustling through some papers by the sound coming through the phone. “The family refused the autopsy. “

  “They can’t do that,” I argued. “I have here a man being charged with a capital offense. I don’t give a damn what Brook Melbourne wants.”

  “I understand,” Chet said.

  “When can we get a preliminary report?”

  “I’ll have the coroner have it by the morning at latest,” he replied. “Now onto the next topic, the arraignment.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “The state is prepared to offer your client two years in prison for a guilty plea on a second degree manslaughter charge,” he went on.

  “That’s not going to happen, Chet,” I responded with a frown. “He’s innocent.”

  “Well,” he began, “we’ve got him running around the block threatening the man with a shotgun, and then the man shows up dead in his yard. Plus, four days earlier your client was seen yelling at the victim in the parking lot. If this goes to trial, he could serve up to sixteen years.”

  “We’re not taking a plea,” I shot back. “We’ve got a stream of dirty money running through this case, a cast of shady characters, no cause of death, and no murder weapon. We’re getting to the bottom of this.”

  “Well, you have two more days to get your client to think about it,” Chet replied.

  “Thank you,” I said as I ended the call and then dropped the phone on my desk in exasperation.

  “Hmmm?” Vicki raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Ridiculous,” I told her with a groan. “They’re offering two years.”

  “That’s not a bad deal,” she said. “Especially if he did it.”

  “Do you still think he did it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know anymore,” she said. “You want to know what’s even more ridiculous? I ran a full background check on Shawn Drake. This guy has a rap sheet from the pit of hell.”

  “Is that right?” I perked up.

  She groaned as she read off the report. “Assault, battery, aggravated assault, narcotics possession. The list goes on. He spent six months in jail last year for narcotics possession. He is currently out on probation.”

  “Nice,” I whistled. “A certified criminal.”

  “A violent one at that,” she said.

  I remembered the pills on Clifton’s nightstand. Shawn would have had access to all of those. Given Shawn’s criminal record, he could have easily been capable of using those to poison Clifton and make it look like an overdose.

  That would explain the nonexistent murder weapon. We still didn’t have a motive for him to do that. But we needed that autopsy. If Clifton had overdosed, it would show up. Chet said he would have it by the morning. I was glad for that.

  Suddenly, the alert on my phone beeped with an appointment.

  I silenced the alarm and smiled. “I’m meeting Toby for lunch.”

  Vicki laughed. “Have fun.”

  I winked. “Will do. We need to check in with Horace. Tell him what the prosecutor said, and make sure he’s on track for the arraignment. I’ve called him several times in the last few days and can’t reach him.”

  “That’s odd,” Vicki said with a frown. “I hope he didn’t skip town.”

  Just then, AJ walked into the office carrying a hefty backpack, so I guessed she had been in class all morning. She was dressed smartly, all in black, in a skirt suit. She wore a large silver mandala necklace that took up most of her neckline, and her dark hair was slicked back in a bun at the back of her neck. She wore dark red lipstick, with a lip liner just a shade darker, and thick eyeliner.

  Her jacket was actually a sweater, smartly cinched at the waist with a black fashion belt, and her skirt was an angled cut that started at her knee and reached her mid-calf at the back. To finish off the outfit, she wore chunky black heels with a strap around the ankle.

  “Hey guys,” she greeted with a smile, “is it okay if I leave a couple hours
early today? Landon and I have tickets to a show in Phoenix.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Vicki asked. “Who are you seeing?”

  “They’re called Painted Dali,” AJ replied. “They’re this super weird British indie rock band. Landon’s been in a passionate love affair with them for like ten years. So, they’re coming to Phoenix, and he is like unglued.”

  “I think we can survive without you for a few hours,” I chuckled. “Go, have fun.”

  “So, how are your classes going?” Vicki asked.

  “Ugh,” AJ groaned as she rolled her eyes. “It’s funny. I thought studying for pre-law would help me be better at practicing law. But, no. Nothing I’m learning is applicable here. It’s all theory that doesn’t really translate into the real world. College is a scam.”

  I was with her up until the last statement. It sounded very Landon. I was tempted to give her a version of the speech I had given Phoenix the other day, but I decided against it. I wasn’t Sedona’s resident guidance counselor after all.

  I met Toby for lunch at a place called Blanc. The restaurant was one of those places that looked like it was a hole in the wall for ambiance, but it was actually quite popular and expensive. It was settled near a red sandstone hill, and it had a breathtaking view of the famous Sedona buttes.

  It was a white ramshackle wood building in need of a paint job. The small cobblestone walkway had outdoor bistro tables on either side, pre-set with black tablecloths and wine glasses. Diners could enjoy the scenery with their coffee, wine, or gourmet sandwich. At night, they turned on table lanterns, and against the famous glowing orange earth, dinner there could be positively exquisite. Now in February, there was no one outside, but in the spring months it would be hard to get a table there at all.

  The entrance was an open wooden door frame, and wait staff in crisp white linen shirts and black cummerbunds bustled around the tiny room. A sign on the wall advertised that all the beef came from grass fed cows, and the poultry was cage free. A counter on the far end allowed customers to buy slabs of environmentally responsible meat.

  I spotted Toby sitting at a table poring over a menu. He had carefully disheveled blond hair, blue eyes, and a calculated unshaven look. Even his posture sitting at the table screamed, “I’m kind of a big deal.”

  “Hey,” I said as I joined him.

  He eyed me. “Hey, I was surprised you called.”

  “Were you?” I asked as I slid into my seat.

  “After--” He cut himself off and shook his head before he started again. “I’m glad to see you.”

  “Well,” I said shortly as I dropped my eyes to my menu, “I have a case for you.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  The waitress came by then and took our orders. Toby slouched as he ordered and eyed the waitress up and down. She laughed at his jokes, and his simple order was full of double entendres. She was certainly attractive, in an odd Sedona sort of way.

  She had strawberry blond hair, with red lowlights, and a dream catcher tattoo peeking out from under her sleeve. She was tall and slender, with her dress slacks hugging every curve of her long legs, and she had gorgeous green eyes. But I was used to very attractive waitstaff from my years in Los Angeles.

  There the waitresses were used to fishing in a big pond. If a guy was going to be that big of a jerk, he better have the status and wallet to match. Granted, Toby didn’t do so bad in those departments, but he would have crashed and burned acting like that in an upscale Orange County restaurant.

  “I’ll just have the steak sandwich,” I told her.

  “Hey, I know you,” she said to me with a furrowed brow.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “You’re Harmony’s brother … ” she trailed off and snapped her fingers. “The lawyer.”

  “I am,” I said with a nod. “How do you know Harmony?”

  “I knew her in school,” she replied, “and my daughter takes art classes from her.”

  “You have a daughter?” Toby asked as his face contorted with disgust.

  “My whole church was praying for her,” she said as she ignored Toby’s rude comment and continued. “We’re so glad you came back to town. You were just an answer to prayer. We were so happy for her when she was proved innocent.”

  I raised my eyebrows at Toby, who shook his head and looked away.

  “You know what? I never do this,” she said, “but this is on the house, guys. Harmony’s so special. She’s such a gifted artist and such a valuable asset to this community. I would love to say thank you in this way. Tell her Rachel says hi.”

  “Will do, Rachel,” I told her with a smile.

  We thanked Rachel appropriately, and after she left Toby just shook his head as he watched her walk away.

  “What an ass,” he hummed. “Too bad about the kid, though. She probably wouldn’t want me to put another one in her.”

  “Are you for real?” I sighed.

  “Hey, I never get free lunches,” he said as he turned back to me with an eyebrow raised.

  “I’m not a jerk to the wait staff,” I pointed out.

  “Cause you were ‘an answer to prayer,’” he mocked.

  “She’s a nice girl,” I said with a small chuckle.

  “So, do you want to sit here all day talking about the waitress, or do you want to tell me why you brought me here?” he asked.

  I got serious and straightened in my chair. “You’ve heard about the Clifton Melbourne murder?” I inquired.

  He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Old Horace went nuts. That guy’s always been a loose cannon. Finally lost it on Clifton.”

  “Yeah, well,” I said, “I’m representing Horace.”

  “Nice,” he whistled as he sat back in his chair. “That should be an easy one in the bag. The prosecution wants to get it wrapped up for PR.”

  “Well,” I started, “we’re probably going to take the plea deal, but we’ll make the prosecutor sweat a bit. But the plea isn’t what I wanted to talk about.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re pawning it off on me, now,” he chuckled. “The great Henry Irving can’t handle all of the work that’s pouring in now that he’s a big shot.”

  “No,” I said. “I’m not backing down from the case. There’s a related civil-suit, or at least there is going to be one.”

  “Is that right?” He perked up.

  Rachel brought out our food. When she leaned over to set the plates down, I noticed Toby glancing down her shirt. I sighed and rolled my eyes. After she left, he turned back to me.

  “Okay, so what’s the angle on this case?” he asked.

  “Brook Melbourne,” I replied.

  He smirked. “She’s a fun one. Boyfriend’s even worse.”

  I sighed. “I’ve heard rumors she’s pushing the Sedona Film and Wine Festival to file a civil suit against Horace for wrongful death.”

  “Really?” he questioned.

  I nodded. “I haven’t talked to Horace about it yet. He’s got enough on his plate, and nothing’s been filed yet.”

  “Who’s taking the case?” Toby asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t think they’ve got anyone yet. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  He raised an eyebrow and listened.

  “I want you to take it,” I said.

  “You want me to sue your client?” he asked incredulously.

  “No,” I said. “My client’s getting sued either way, and I’d prefer you take the case. The festival’s got a shitload of money, this is pure litigious bullshit they’re pulling. But, you and I, we go way back. We can come to a settlement that’s not going to take my client to the cleaners and still make everybody happy.”

  “Horace doesn’t have shit,” he pointed out with a frown. “His theatre’s virtually worthless.”

  “Right,” I said. “You know that, and I know that. I’m just trying to be proactive here, and deal with somebody I know that’s going to be reasonable.”

  He nodded and played with the stem of his win
e glass.

  “When Horace pleads guilty,” I continued, “the civil suit will be open and shut, and it’s just going to be a settlement.”

  “So the two of us walk into a room, talk about a number both sides can live with, shake hands, and walk out?” he asked, and I could see dollar signs swirling in his eyes.

  I laughed. “So, you’ll take it?”

  He leaned back and studied the table and then glanced back up at me.

  “Yeah,” he said, and his eyes glinted. “Open and shut, huh?”

  “Open and shut,” I echoed with a nod. “Let me give you Brook Melbourne’s number. You can head this off from the start.”

  Toby grinned from ear to ear.

  We had a lawyer for the civil suit.

  After we left, I noticed Toby lagging behind. I turned around and saw he had Rachel cornered, and she laughed as he clearly smooth-talked her. I rolled my eyes and walked out to my car. Then I went back to the office and filled Vicki and AJ in on the lunch.

  “Toby wants to represent the civil suit,” I announced. “He’ll probably call them and offer his services.”

  “Alright, you trickster,” Vicki laughed. “We’re getting somewhere. “We should celebrate, our first major hurdle. Champagne all around.”

  Yeah, it was a victory, but celebrating seemed a little ahead of ourselves. We still had so much work to do.

  “We can celebrate when we win,” I said. “We’ve still got a long way to go.

  “Alright,” Vicki said with a sigh. “Drinks after work, on me.”

  AJ wouldn’t go for it. “I’m underage,” she mumbled as she blushed. “It’s not legal.”

  “So you’ve never had alcohol?” Vicki asked her with a cocked eyebrow.

  “I drank some at a wedding once,” AJ replied sheepishly.

  “But you want to legalize drugs,” I pointed out with a chuckle.

  “Well, that’s different,” she said. “If it’s not against the law, it’s okay.”

  “So you think drugs should be legalized?” Vicki asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said as she shrugged. “Honestly, I’ve never tried them.”

  I laughed. “You’re a weird kid,” I said. “A good kid, but a weird one. Alright, we’ll go for cake then.”