Sedona Law 2 Page 9

  “I’ll go for that,” Vicki piped up with a grin. “Make it chocolate.”

  We sent AJ to the vegan bakery down the road to get a chocolate cake. While she was gone, I thought about the impending autopsy report and recalled the near-pharmacy of drugs Clifton was taking.

  Brook said he suffered from dementia. I searched online for what dementia patients take. Dementia, and its close cousin Alzheimer's, are caused by the breakdown of brain cells, I read. To help fight it, doctors will put patients on what are called cholinesterase inhibitors.

  These are designed to prevent a breakdown of certain chemicals in the brain. Unfortunately, it helps for a while and then stops working. The medicines typically prescribed are donepezil, galantamine, and rivastigmine.

  This sounded fairly straightforward. He was ninety-four. His brain was breaking itself down. In a sense, it was Mother Nature’s built in mechanism for preventing overpopulation, but I wanted his medical records so we could find out what he had been prescribed and in what amount.

  Criminal law was a new area for me. I’m an entertainment lawyer. Well, was anyway. I knew all about copyright law and licensing, and I had many times negotiated with label heads on the terms of a recording contract on behalf of budding young rock stars.

  But I was still new to the intricacies of criminal law in Arizona. I knew there were some conditions in which we could subpoena medical records, and some conditions where patient confidentiality laws applied. I was searching through the Arizona law statutes when AJ came back from the bakery.

  We cheered when she came through the door with the cake. Then Vicki sliced pieces for us all. AJ had also picked up paper plates and plastic cutlery at the bakery.

  “So, chocolate isn’t a meat,” I said. “What makes a chocolate cake vegan?”

  AJ looked at me like I was crazy, “Umm … eggs?”

  I nodded and paused my first bite in mid-air. “So this cake was made without eggs?”

  “Yeah, they could have used a number of things instead,” AJ informed me, “like applesauce. Also, the flour is usually whole grain.”

  I made a face and prepared for the tongue stinging, unfulfilling taste of vegan dessert. I took my first bite, and I was surprised.

  “Not bad,” I mused.

  Landon walked through the door at that point. As soon as he saw AJ in her skirt suit, the expression on his face looked like he wanted to take her right there in the conference room.

  “You look nice,” he finally told her.

  She blushed and mumbled something as she busied herself with the plates.

  “Hey Landon,” I said as I held back a smirk.

  He blinked as if he were coming back to reality and then greeted us casually.

  “It’s a two hour drive,” he announced. “The show starts at eight, so if we leave now, we’ll get there with plenty of time for Phoenix traffic.”

  AJ and Landon said their weekend goodbyes and left. Vicki and I were left alone in the office.

  “Okay,” she drawled slowly, “so, don’t get mad, but I know you’ve been stressed lately with the trial. So, I decided to do something for you.”

  “Like what?” I questioned as I squinted my eyes suspiciously.

  “I reserved a hotel in Tusayan for the weekend,” she said. “Let’s get out of town.”

  Tusayan. The Grand Canyon.

  “Right now?” I asked with surprise.

  “Right now,” she echoed with a nod.

  Then she took my hands and dragged me across the room as if she were going to drag me all the way there. I smiled at her. It would be nice to get away, and the Grand Canyon is one hell of a place to do it.

  Chapter 8

  Relatively speaking, we aren’t far from the Grand Canyon. It was only a two hour drive to Tusayan, the location of the South Rim.

  Sedona is sort of a precursor for the Canyon. All through our town, red sandstone buttes glowed orange in the sun, and mini canyons and gorges all hinted that the Canyon was not far up. In fact, Grand Canyon tour guides often recommend that tourists visit Sedona on their way in or out of town.

  Everyone wanted to pass through Sedona at some point in their life.

  Growing up, it was a common weekend getaway for families. The schools would take science field trips out there, and young Sedona newlyweds without the means for a lavish vacation often defaulted to the Canyon for their honeymoons.

  Despite its familiarity and being part of my formative years, I had to admit the Grand Canyon was breathtaking, and I didn’t mind sharing this with the hot California girl I managed to snag.

  We ended up not leaving until the next morning.

  “Seriously?” Vicki responded as I filled a second suitcase with just supplies a few hours after we left the office. “I’m not even packing this much. You’re like a girl.”

  “Going to the Canyon is like New York fashion week for guys,” I muttered.

  I didn’t have anything for this trip. I didn’t have a tent, or canteens, or any kind of camping gear, and I hadn’t been hiking in several years.

  “We have a hotel,” she insisted.

  “Yeah, but if you want to go down into the Canyon, you have to camp,” I argued.

  I went into the garage and banged around to see if there was some kind of gear I had bought once and forgotten about. I think I went mountain climbing in California a couple of times. What had I used then?

  The garage was full of cardboard boxes still sealed from the move. I could barely even walk. The whole thing put me in a sour mood.

  “Henry,” Vicki said to my moping and slamming boxes. “I love hiking and outdoor activities as much as you. But, we don’t have to do it this way. We can just go out there and enjoy the moment. Enjoy being together in nature. We can go back another time and plan an exciting adventurous trip with camping, backpacks, and all of those things. But this was supposed to be spontaneous. You and me, in the spur of the moment.”

  I hated it when she was right.

  “I just wanted this to be perfect,” I sighed. “You and me, and nature.”

  “And it will be,” she said as she walked over and laid her hand on my arm. “With or without ultra strength water canteens.”

  “I hate it when you’re right,” I grumbled.

  “So, all the time, then?” she chuckled with a twinkle in her eye. “You must be a miserable person.”

  I laughed. We didn’t leave until the morning, which was fine. Friday had been long, and I appreciated being fresh for the drive out there.

  Saturday morning found us driving through the Sedona buttes and up the interstate toward the Canyon.

  “A far cry from Sac, huh?” I told her.

  She was originally from Sacramento before she moved to LA where we met. She shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Nor Cal has its charm.”

  I had never made it that far north in the ten years I lived out there. The LA lifestyle took enough energy as it was.

  “Oh yeah?” I said. “What’s it like up there?”

  She smiled and leaned back in the seat.

  “It’s a lot of vineyards and orchards,” she replied. “The wine country is gorgeous.”

  “We’ll have to go out there sometime,” I said.

  “Sometime,” she echoed and made a face.

  “Do you not want me to meet your family?” I asked.

  She laughed. “No, I don’t want me to meet my family,” she said.

  “I can relate to that,” I snorted.

  She slipped on a pair of sunglasses. “Now tell me all about this massive hole in the earth. It’s supposed to be a rite of passage as an American to see this thing. So, I want to know all about it before we get there.”

  I drew a deep breath. “Alright, so the Canyon goes about a mile deep, and at the bottom is the Colorado River. There are tiered hiking trails that wind down the side of the Canyon. You can rent a mule to walk down there with you.”

  “Disgusting,” she said as she wr
inkled her nose.

  I laughed. “Yeah, it is actually.”

  “I want to go all the way in,” she declared. “Go all the way down.”

  “Well, you have to train for that,” I said in a more serious tone. “It can be dangerous, the trails are steep, and in the winter months like right now, they can have ice and snow on them. It takes most people more than a day, and you have to bring an overnight tent. But we can hike part of the way in.”

  She pulled out her phone while I was talking and snapped a selfie of the two of us in the car. Then she flashed it at me while I drove. We did look happy. We were happy.

  We arrived at the hotel Vicki had booked. It was a rustic lodge nestled into a hill on an expansive piece of property, and redwood log cabins dotted the landscape. We were still a bit of a distance from the Canyon. The outside of the building was done in white stone, with wood molding around the frames.

  We parked and entered a main lobby. It was a spacious room decorated in mahogany, leather, and wood. The floor to ceiling windows let in the view of Grand Canyon territory. We had yet to see the actual Canyon, but the area was still breathtaking with hills and trees, and the sandstone rocks in varying shades of red and orange.

  We were greeted casually by a young woman. She was dressed comfortably in a smart button down uniform shirt, brown thigh high riding boots, and skinny jeans. Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail that swished when she walked, and she bustled around the room with the energy of someone who took pride in their work.

  “Hello,” she greeted with a smile. “Welcome to The Rim. Do you have a reservation?”

  Vicki gave her the information from the online booking.

  “You guys will be staying in the Fireside Cabin,” the woman said.

  She grabbed a key with a wooden keychain and motioned for us to follow her. Then she jumped into a golf cart.

  “Hop in guys,” she told us with a wide grin.

  She reminded me of a tour guide Barbie doll. She was all smiles and energy, like she was born to run a Grand Canyon resort. She drove us around the property and showed us the gorgeous log cabins and hiking trail heads. The resort was something like a golf course, only Grand Canyon themed. There was a lake at one end of the property for catch and release fishing, and then a saltwater pool with a soothing, tranquil fountain.

  “If you are interested in seeing the Grand Canyon,” she said, “we can rent or sell hiking gear from the shop in the lobby.”

  As our host explained the different buildings and how they were used, the tension from the last few days faded from my shoulders. I felt myself being energized by the place and the nature around it. I turned to Vicki and smiled.

  “Thank you,” I said earnestly. “This was a good idea.”

  She smiled back and rubbed my shoulders.

  Then we arrived at our cabin, and our tour guide flashed us one more winning smile.

  “Enjoy your stay at The Rim,” she said, and then she drove away.

  The Fireside Cabin was constructed of mahogany wood, and it had a small porch with two wooden rocking chairs. We went inside.

  True to the roughing it pioneer theme, the furnishings were sparse, but they were modern. A king sized bed with a luxurious white comforter and rows of pillows in every size sat in the middle of the room.

  Across from it, mounted into the polished log wall, was a seventy-two inch plasma screen TV. Underneath it was a fireplace and beside that a wicker basket with logs. Against one wall, there was a desk made out of tree branches and a wooden chair to match. We brought our luggage in.

  “To tell you the truth,” I said, “I’m kind of cramped from the car ride. You want to go for a jog?”

  “Oh that sounds nice,” she moaned. “I haven’t jogged since we’ve moved.”

  “I’ve noticed that,” I said with a frown. “Why not?”

  She shrugged, and we started changing into our fitness gear.

  “I’m an inner city girl,” she said. “I’ve got this weird mental block toward exercising in nature. It’s like I have to have a gym and an electric machine.”

  I laughed. “We can get a gym membership in Sedona.”

  “No,” she said with a shake of her head. “I love it. I love letting the city fade away and getting to nature. It’s real and raw. I’m just not used to it yet.”

  She took a deep breath and let the fresh air fill her lungs. Then she exhaled slowly, as if she were cleaning Los Angeles out of her system.

  “There’s something so genuine about this place,” she said.

  “The Canyon, or Arizona?” I asked

  “All of it,” she replied. “I love our life here. It’s a different pace, different way of thinking, certainly. Makes me happy though.”

  I smiled. “I’m happy that you’re happy,” I said.

  We left the cabin for the resort’s hiking trails. We fell in step together, passing cabins and nature markers along the way. We walked under a tree canopy that turned the trail into a private nature paradise, with pine trees and juniper, and flowers I couldn’t name. Just ahead there was a stone footbridge arched over a babbling brook. The water was clear and so shallow you could see the bottom.

  “Let’s get photos,” Vicki said.

  She pulled out her phone, and we snapped a few. Then we jogged on and came to a stunning waterfall. The roar drowned out everything, and it was only the two of us. We stood on the bridge and leaned against the railing. I put my arm around her and we stood there and listened to the waterfall. She leaned over and kissed me, and I thought I was in heaven.

  I don’t know how long we stayed, but it was dark by the time we got back to the cabin.

  “I guess we’ll see the Canyon in the morning,” she said.

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “It’s a waste in the dark.”

  We washed off the gunk from the hike in the antique clawfoot tub, and then we relaxed a bit before heading to dinner. We were just getting settled in for an evening in, when she walked out of the bathroom wearing… nothing but a grin.

  Ah, forget dinner.

  Sometime later, we hiked the trail to the dining hall. It was night now, and the stars over Canyon territory were impressive. We stared up at them and tried to find constellations. We didn’t know any, so we made them up.

  “I think that’s a lady with an umbrella,” she said.

  “Okay, that’s a guy with a laptop,” I suggested as I traced another set of stars.

  We both laughed.

  The dining hall was in another log cabin, but it was fashioned into a restaurant. The light was low, and soft music played as candles flickered on the white draped tables. At one end a lit fireplace crackled and cast a soft glow around the room.

  We sat down at one of the tables and placed our drink order. That was when I heard my name. I looked up, and who was there but Leonard, the police investigator from back home.

  “Leonard,” I said, totally taken by surprise. “Good to see you.”

  “Good to see you, too,” he echoed as he approached our table. With him was a tall, dark haired woman, and Leonard smiled as he introduced us. “This is Julie. Julie, this is Henry. Back in the day, he was an actor’s actor. The best our town has ever seen.”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as that,” I chuckled as I smiled at the woman. “Nice to meet you.”

  “And you,” she replied. Julie had her clearly dyed midnight black hair piled on top of her head, and she wore clunky black rimmed glasses and dangly gold earrings. She had a long baby blue dress, cut in a hipster-ironic 1950’s fashion, and platform styled heels to match.

  “Yeah, yeah, but then he grew up and became a lawyer,” Leonard continued with a good natured roll of his eyes.

  “Oh,” Julie said as she blinked in surprise. “Well that seems to be a good profession.”

  I turned to Vicki. “See? She gets it.”

  Vicki laughed.

  “Have you met Vicki?” I asked them.

  Leonard said he had, and we all exchanged i
ntroductions and pleasantries.

  “Come join us, if you want,” Vicki invited.

  It wasn’t really what I wanted, but I went with it. Leonard and Julie exchanged glances, and then they shrugged and took seats at our table.

  “So, Leonard,” I said. “What brings you out here?”

  “Well, Julie and I our celebrating our one month,” he said with a broad grin. “For one whole month she has put up with me. So, I figured she deserved an award for that.”

  He wrapped his arm around his date and winked at her. She laughed.

  “Well, Julie,” I said, “you definitely deserve a trophy for that. Cheers.” I toasted her with my water glass.

  Everyone laughed.

  “So, tell us how you guys met,” Vicki inquired as she leaned in.

  They looked at each other.

  “You go first,” she said.

  “No, you go first,” he countered.

  “No, you first,” she repeated.

  They both dissolved into laughter. Vicki and I glanced at each other and snickered. Eventually Julie launched into a story about how they met at a poetry reading.

  “I write poetry,” she said. “I’ve self-published a couple of books, and I was doing a reading at Voltaire’s Place.”

  “I’ve been there,” I said. Voltaire’s Place was a used book store in Sedona. It was known as a gathering place for free coffee and singles nights for bookworms, but mostly for Bella Swan, the resident black cat who had been rumored to say an English word now and again.

  “They’ve started doing open mic nights once a month,” she said, “and so I decided to read something, and Leonard was there.”

  She squeezed his arm, and his eyes twinkled like he’d found gold.

  “And afterward,” Julie continued, “we got to talking, and then, one thing led to another and now … we’re here.”

  Leonard smiled. “Now we’re here.”

  It didn’t surprise me that Leonard would be at a poetry reading. When we were in school, he had a tendency to go around speaking in Shakespearean couplets. He was really quite bad at it, but I applauded his efforts.

  “So, Henry and I have been around the block with each other lately,” Leonard said as he changed the subject.