by Dave Daren
There was whistling and applause as everyone thought this was a great idea.
Matt took us down a hall to a large converted office. Lighting and video equipment washed a seating area that looked like it came straight out of a Target catalog. Brown leather couches surrounded a coffee table with staged knick knacks. On the wall was an art piece made of cherry wood slats, and the word ‘Dream’ was spelled out in black decal letters.
We crowded in with Matt, while Josh and the rest of the group brought the camera and lighting equipment to life.
“The series is called ‘Spotlight,’” Matt told us, “and it’s about people that are leaders in the community. We want to let their personalities, their stories shine. We created this set for the series, and we try to do one every month, the last one was Perry and Kristen McGrath, who run Cococono Brew.”
“Ah, yes,” I said. “We know about them.”
“Right,” Matt said. “You’re part of their story, I forgot.”
“Yes,” I said. “Definitely part of that story.”
“The interview itself will last about ten minutes,” he said. “But that’s because we leave a lot of room for mistakes or nerves. The clip will only be about three minutes. We have a great editing team that will clip it down to a good solid piece.”
“Sounds good,” I said.
“Are we ready?” Matt asked.
“Pretty much,” Josh gave Matt a thumbs up.
“Go ahead and have a seat on the set, they’ll get you lit,” Matt directed.
Vicki and I stepped through the lighting equipment and the mazes of wires duct taped to the ground. I blinked under the harsh light as we walked onto the set.
One of the girls came onto the set with us.
“Hi,” she said, “I’m Chelsea. I’ll be doing the interview.”
Chelsea was a tall, blonde woman, she looked to be about twenty one, with long dreadlocks pulled back into a headwrap. She wore leggings and a tunic and long dangly earrings. She sat down opposite us and smiled as they adjusted the lighting and audio levels.
I looked at Vicki, who smiled at me, and I thought about the inevitable question Chelsea would ask me. What do you love about being an attorney in Sedona? I still didn’t have an answer, but a handful of PR friendly soundbites rolled around in my head.
There was the gushing:
“The people in this town are so warm and inviting, it’s easy to serve them.”
“I love helping people, and Sedona is one beautiful place to do it.”
Or the quippy:
“Wait, I’m an attorney? When did that happen?”
“It pays better than McDonald’s, which is the only other thing I’m qualified to do.”
Or I could go with the back-handedly pompous:
“We’ve got a great legal community in this town, some really great minds. Chet Levinson, and Toby Lithgoe, among others are some solidly great people. I’m honored to be part of the industry in my hometown, and I really feel like I bring a lot to the table, so we’ll see where it leads from here.”
I could also borrow from national politics and be inflammatory. It would get Matt some page views:
“Drain the swamp! That’s what I’m here to do! The legal system in this town is full of corruption and laziness, and I’m here to shake it all up and bring justice where justice is due.”
Then suddenly the moment was upon me. The interview had started while I was in my reverie, and then Chelsea shot me a winning smile,
“So, Henry, we’ve heard from Vicki, how about you?” she asked. “What do you love about being an attorney in Sedona?”
I looked at Chelsea, and she looked at me expectantly. Under the bright lights, and blinking cameras, the only words that came out of my mouth were, “I love Vicki.”
The rest of the interview was a blur in my head. Not because I was embarrassed at what I had said, but because I realized for the first time how true it was.
For a split second Vicki looked surprised, but she recovered nicely and professionally, and I think I bullshitted through some decent answers for the rest of the questions. I think. But Vicki didn’t say anything much afterward.
Chapter 16
I spent most of the next morning in the conference room going over video footage with Landon in search of clues. Cups from Jitters littered the table, and I had notes and diagrams all over the white board.
“I want to see those interviews again,” I said. “Especially the one with Olivia.”
“We’ve seen them all like--” he trailed off when he saw my face.
He cleared his throat and queued it up. We watched the gypsy dancer sit in the kitchen of Mooreland House and talk about her ex-lover’s death. I had seen it so many times now I had it memorized.
“There is nothing there,” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.
“You want to see the Chloe one again?” he asked.
“Why did Judith confess?” I mused out loud and then paced the conference room and made more arrows on the whiteboard.
“Blackmail from Malone?” Landon supplied.
“Yeah,” I said. “But what would be so bad, that she would confess to a murder? This is driving me crazy.”
“Stop being crazy,” Vicki stepped into the room. “Give yourself a break. We have to meet with Susan anyway.”
“Susan, Susan,” I searched my memory and scanned the board. “Who is Susan?”
“Susan is our realtor?” she reminded me. “We have our first meeting with her right about now?”
“Right,” I said.
“When you don’t know the difference between your realtor and a suspect,” she began, “that’s when you know you need to take a break.”
I smiled and capped the marker. “You’re right. Where are we meeting her?”
This was a distraction, but by this point my thinking was so muddled that sitting here and wallowing in the details of the case wouldn’t make it any better. Usually in times like this, taking a break is the right thing to do if for no other reason than to clear your head and reset your perspective.
“On the lake,” she said.
“The lake?” I asked dubiously.
“I thought it was serene,” she said.
“Or a place for a murder,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said. “You really need a break from this case.”
With all the case leads stalled out, it was a good time anyway to leave AJ to hold down the fort.
“Don’t burn the place down,” I told her as I gathered my bag.
“As I recall,” she began to counter, “you came pretty close to that not too long ago, so don’t point fingers at me.”
I laughed as I remembered a couple of months ago, when we were installing cable wiring, the electrical wiring blew and we had no electricity for a few weeks. Vicki and I laughed and headed out to the parking lot.
“So,” I asked Vicki as we settled into my car. “Do we have a list of places?”
“No,” she said. “I couldn’t find anything I liked online, so she said she had a few places to show us, things that were fresh on the market.”
“Sounds promising,” I said. “This one’s on the lake?”
“Yeah,” she said as she programmed it into the GPS. “Twelve minutes away? Yikes.”
“Ugh,” I said. “That’s an eternal commute.”
“Yeah,” she nodded.
Then we both busted out laughing.
“Listen to us,” I said. “We’re so spoiled.”
“I know,” she said. “My California friends would smack me for complaining about a twelve minute commute.”
Twelve minutes later, we arrived at a gated lake community, and a parked red Land Rover.
“That’s Susan,” Vicki said. “Follow her.”
We followed Susan through the gates and the streets of a subdivision. Sprawling suburban houses with generous windows dotted the peaceful streets and family friendly manicured lawns. While going through the neighborhood, I ca
ught a lake view here and there.
“This is a nice community,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said. “I guess I could see myself living here. I don’t know, though.”
“Me, neither,” I sighed. “I don’t know. Too…”
“Middle America,” she supplied.
I laughed. “Maybe that’s what it is. The new Norman Rockwell. I’m alright with leaving the big city life behind, but minivans, soccer moms, and cul-de-sacs… not feeling it.”
“Me and you both,” she laughed.
Susan kept driving, and she surprisingly led us out of Soccer Mom City into a less cookie-cutter area. We ended at a sandy point right in front of the water. She pulled up to the shore and parked.
“What is this?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “The GPS said we’ve already arrived.”
We parked and got out of the car, and I caught my first glance at our realtor. Susan Berwkewitz was a thin woman in her early sixties, and the first thing I noticed was the tremendous pink floppy hat. Then, the pink floral dress.
“So great to see you, darling,” she practically ran up to Vicki and pecked her on both cheeks.
“Hi, Susan,” Vicki greeted her politely.
“And you must be Henry,” she said. “Well, I won’t kiss you, but I’ll settle for a handshake. Good to meet you. Vicki told me all about you. He’s cute, you picked a good one, honey. Hold on to him.”
I shook her hand and tried to make heads or tails of this woman, but before I could respond to one thing, she was on to the next.
“Well,” she said. “Let’s get down to business. I’ve got some great places to show you today. I’m going to take you to some of the best places on the market right now, the hottest properties. This one, I think you will just love. Don’t you?”
She gestured toward the water expectantly. Vicki and I glanced at each other, and I cleared my throat. Susan just stood there with a smile on her face.
“So, what do you think?” she asked.
“Uh,” Vicki finally responded. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m not seeing the house.”
“It’s right there,” she said, “On that island.”
I looked again, and she was right. About a hundred feet into the water, was a small island with a tiny wooden structure built into it.
“What’s that shape?” I asked.
“The concept for the cabin,” she began excitedly, “was the dragon’s eye, rising up from the lake. It keeps an ever-watchful eye on the city.”
Indeed, the structure was made of wood, and the entire building had a curved warped shape, with the gentle oval curves of an eye, with the pupil area comprised of large tinted windows.
“You would park here,” she gestured toward a cement area near us. “And then you take this canoe out to the island.”
A small green canoe floated near us, and Susan gestured.
“Come, come,” she said. “Let’s ride out there.”
Vicki and I looked at each other dubiously.
“It is a peaceful place,” Vicki tried.
“Yeah,” I said. “Susan, I’m sure that the dragon’s eye cabin will be so awesome to someone, but it’s a bit small for us.”
“Plus,” Vicki said, “we’re so busy, the coolness of the lake island would be lost on us.”
“Absolutely,” she said. She slipped on her shades. “This one will go fast, though. It’s already got a few offers.”
“I’ll bet it does,” I said. “I’ll bet it does.”
“What else do we have?” Vicki asked.
“Okay,” Susan said. “This next one you will love, love, love. If it’s size you’re looking for, I’ve got just the thing.”
Susan gave Vicki an address, and we got back into our cars and followed her out there.
“How long?” I asked.
“This one is supposed to be thirty minutes,” my girlfriend said.
“From the office?” I asked incredulously.
“From here,” she said. “From the office... forty-five.”
“Yeah,” I said. “This place had better be good.”
“I don’t think you could top the spying lake dragon,” she said.
“I did appreciate the creativity, though,” I said. “I think it would be a good place for a sci-fi writer.”
“I could see that,” she laughed. “He sits in his dragon cabin, and writes on his laptop, and comes out on his canoe in a cape and a suit of armor.”
“What else would he have?” I asked. “I mean, you couldn’t live there, and just wear jeans.”
“God, no,” she said. “The spirit of the great dragon eye wouldn’t stand for it.”
“Hopefully this place will be better,” I said.
My phone buzzed with a text.
“AJ,” I muttered as I pulled the text up and drove at the same time. “Judith’s at the office.”
“You’re kidding?” Vicki said.
“No,” I said.
I voice texted AJ, “Find out what she wants.”
“Should we go back?” Vicki asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Depends on what she says.”
The reply came quick enough.
“Holy Jesus,” I said. “She still insists she did it.”
“You should talk to her,” Vicki said. “Maybe she’s got a clue.”
We were almost half an hour away from the office by now, so I didn’t see any point in turning around.
I voice texted AJ, “Set an appointment for tomorrow.”
She texted me back. “She can only do the morning, and tomorrow is Elena’s hearing.”
“Shit,” I said. “Elena’s hearing is tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Vicki said. “First thing in Phoenix.”
“Well,” I said. “Let’s try the day after.”
“No,” Vicki said. “We need this interview.”
“Yeah,” I sighed, “but I don’t want to miss your first hearing. This is a big deal.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “This is totally random that she wants to meet with you. There’s no reason other than she knows something we need to know. If you put her off too long, she’ll get spooked.”
“You want to do your first hearing without me?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “But, I also don’t want to lose this witness. The hearing will be basic common sense. I’ll be fine.”
I didn’t like it, but she was right. It wasn’t much longer before Susan took us to our next destination.
“Whoa,” Vicki said as soon as we pulled up. I just sat in silence.
The building looked like a giant golf ball etched into the earth. It was a white dome shape, with pock marks on top, and an open green lawn all around. At the base of the golf ball, were windows peeking out on all sides like creepy eyes.
“It’s definitely bigger,” she said. “Maybe because we’re lawyers, she thinks we play golf?”
“Ugh,” I said. “I detest golf.”
“You have a set of clubs in the garage,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m actually a decent player, but it’s the pretentious douche-baggery I can’t stand.”
“Isn’t that the whole point of the game, though?” she asked.
“Precisely,” I said.
She laughed. “That explains it.”
We got out of the car, and Susan grinned from ear to ear. Although, this was difficult to tell under the enormous hat that almost blew away in the wind.
“This,” she gestured, “is pure gold. This is spacious, and inviting, and has ample room to build a deck, and a pool, and whatever you like. This was originally built in 1967, so it has a whole space feel to it.”
“I thought it was golf,” I said.
“It was recently repainted,” she said. “The original color was gold, and it had that very mod space age look to it. It’s being sold now, so they remodeled it, and toned down the whole period look. Shall we have a look inside?”
Since
we didn’t have to cross a moat to get to the dragon this time, we gave this one a chance.
“Let’s,” I said simply.
She took us to the front stoop. Flowerbeds lined a concrete walkway, and then we entered through a glass front door.
“How’s the insulation with all of this glass?” I asked.
“It does respond to the elements,” she said. “So, the owners built in an eco-friendly cooling system that runs on solar power.”
“Solar power?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “They’ve put solar panels at the top of the dome so it generates a lot of its own electricity. It’s not completely off the grid yet.”
“That’s… convenient,” I said.
I was all for being eco-friendly and all, but I didn’t know the first thing about managing a solar powered house. What if one of those panels breaks? Could I just call a repairman?
We entered the house, and it was surprisingly modern. It was all clean and crisp white walls, and wood floors, and an impressively high vaulted ceiling with wood paneling rising to a skylight at the dome’s highest point.
“I’ll bet that is gorgeous at night, with the stars,” Vicki said. “Or in a rainstorm.”
“That would be romantic,” I said.
The spacious kitchen area had all new and modern appliances, sparkling white and chrome, and custom cabinetry.
“The kitchen was redone about three years ago,” Susan said. “It’s been updated to be compatible for a smart home.”
“Smart home, huh?” I said.
I noticed a screen on the refrigerator door. I tapped on some of the icons. It looked like everything from televisions, to a full family calendar could be controlled from this screen.
“We haven’t joined that revolution,” Vicki said.
Vicki tapped on the media button and browsed the apps that could be accessed from the panel. Without an active network connection, we couldn’t try any of them out, but it was still quite an impressive feature.
“Oh,” Susan gushed. “You should upgrade. Smart homes are all the rage! I have an Echo in every room of my house. I use it to control everything. It’s so convenient.”
“Well,” I said, “I guess I’ve become crotchety in my old age. I still believe in keys and light switches.”
