by Dave Daren
“This morning?” I said. “Yeah, I could do that.”
“The Starbucks on east side?” he said.
I made a face. I had a different worldview than many of Sedona’s residents. But, on the issue of coffee, I was a native coffee snob that would feel nauseated at having to darken the door of a Starbucks.
“Right down the block from our office is the coffee house Jitters,” I said. “The coffee’s better.”
“I don’t have time to drive all the way out there,” he said. “We can talk tomorrow.”
“No, no, no,” I said. “I’ll meet you at… Starbucks.”
The word caught in my throat and tasted bad on my tongue.
“You’re going to Starbucks?” AJ asked incredulously.
I shot her a dirty look, and she laughed. “Poor Henry.”
“Selling out his values,” Vicki laughed. “For a venti caramel machiatto.”
I laughed. “You guys are awful.”
I drove out to the Starbucks, and died a little inside when I walked through the doors. I placed the smallest order I could think of, then saw Gary sitting at a table. A thin wiry man, with wire rimmed glasses, he looked pale and nervous.
“Hey, Gary,” I greet him as slipped into a hard wooden chair.
“Hi, Mr. Irving,” he said. “I’m not sure who to tell about all of this. But I know something that might help Kelsi.”
“Okay,” I said as I sipped my terribly bland coffee. “What do you know?”
“Well,” he said. “I went back and forth as to whether or not this even meant anything to her case. But, the more I think of it, the more I realize you ought to know.”
He fingered the rim of the table.
“On the tour in Africa, I saw something that I hadn’t told anyone,” he said. “One night in Kenya we all went out to this bar. It was the night before Kelsi left, and she had an early flight, and she was worried about the kid being sick, so she didn’t go out with us.
“Right,” I said. “Makes sense.”
“Neither did Roy,” he said. “He didn’t say why he wouldn’t go. He just stayed back at the hotel and no one thought anything of it. So we got to this bar, and James spent the whole night arguing with her on the phone about something. I don’t know what.”
He took a long sip of his drink.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” he shrugged. “Look, if this turns out to have nothing to do with her case, then, cool. I just know that no one knows anything about the elephant tusks, and so I just thought I’d tell you what I knew.”
“I appreciate it,” I said. “Go ahead.”
“So,” he sighed. “I ended up, long story short, going back to the hotel early. I come out, and I passed by the pool, and well, there’s Roy and Kelsi in the pool, and they’re making out.”
“Roy and Kelsi?” I asked incredulously.
“Yeah,” he smiled sheepishly. “I pretended I didn’t see anything and just went up to my room. I don’t think they saw that I saw them. They didn’t act like it the next day or anything. It could have been a one time thing, you know, a mistake. But, I just thought you should know what you’re dealing with.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Did they know each other before the band?”
“Oh yeah,” Gary nodded. “Roy and Kelsi have known each other for years. Long before either of them met James.”
“Really?” I asked. “Were they ever together?”
“Not that I know of,” he said. “But I’ve only met them all about five years ago.”
“Had you ever seen anything or heard anything before that that would make you think there was a connection between the two?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “I was totally shocked. I mean, he’s a lot older than her. And, he doesn’t seem like her type. He’s nothing like James.”
“Right,” I said.
“But the whole thing has given me a bad taste in my mouth,” he said. “For both of them. It’s low to cheat on your husband. Even lower to cheat on him with someone that he’s close to. But, I’ve heard that if she goes to trial, she could be in prison for a really long time. And I don’t want that to happen to her. I mainly don’t want that for her kids. They don’t deserve that. Losing both of their parents like that. That’s gotta kill you.”
“It would be hard on those kids if she goes to jail,” I nodded.
“That’s why I wanted to tell you that,” he shrugged. “Take it for what it’s worth.”
I stood and rose from the table. “Thanks for coming forward, Gary.”
“Well,” he said with a smile. “There’s one more thing.”
I raised an eyebrow. He pulled out his iPhone.
“One night,” he said as he tapped around the screen. “We were at a rehearsal, and we were working on this new song, and it wasn’t going so well, so I set up my iPad to record the rehearsal so we could listen to the playback.”
“Uh-huh,” I responded.
“The iPad was rigged up on a chair, at really bad angle, honestly,” he said. “And it caught something.”
I raised an eyebrow, and he showed my a video clip on his phone. He forwarded a certain point and then played. It appeared to be an empty club or cafe. The lighting was horrible, and the captured audio quality wasn’t much better. But, I could make out the band on a stage, in a stop and start rehearsal.
“Watch behind that counter,” Gary said.
I watched where he pointed, and sure enough, Kelsi and Roy were in the background. It was almost off camera, and they stood way too close. And then, I raised my eyebrow as I caught it. They kissed.
“Whoa,” I said. “I didn’t expect that. Do they know this recording exists?”
Gary shook his head. “Nope.”
With a couple of keystrokes, he e-mailed the file to me.
“You’re willing to sell out your friends like that?” I asked.
“If it will help Kelsi in the long run,” he said. “And I think it will.”
“I think you might be right,” I said.
I tossed my coffee cup and left the green mermaid. I drove back out to the office and contemplated what had just happened. How did all of these pieces fit together? I called the one person who I knew would know.
Roy Oberland.
“Roy,” I said once he answered. “This is Henry Irving, Kelsi Matthews’ lawyer. How’s it going?”
“Henry Irving,” he said. “Yeah, I remember you, good to hear from you. How are things going with Kelsi?”
“Well,” I said. “We’re getting closer to some answers for her.”
“I know she’s grateful for that,” Roy said. “We all are.”
“The reason I called,” I said. “Is that I want to meet with you. I had a few questions. Are you busy right now?”
“Uh,” he groaned. “I’m at work, but you can come by. Roy’s Body Shop, you know where that is?”
“I do,” I said. “I’m on my way over.”
“Great,” he said. “Can’t wait.”
I smirked as I ended the call. I wasn’t sure that was sarcasm or not. I wasn’t sure exactly what I would ask him, but I got the feeling he wanted me to know.
I arrived at the body shop, an eyesore off the highway. It was a baby blue painted wooden garage with the lettering in faded white. A couple of old cars sat rusting in the gravel yard, but other than that, it was a desolate place.
Roy, whom I had only seen as the consummate rock and roller, had his massive frame bent over the open hood of a green Jaguar, that looked to have been made sometime in the 1980’s.
“Classic,” I remarked as I sauntered up to him.
He pulled his head out from under the hood and wiped his hands on a cloth.
“Could be,” he said. “It’s a project car for a client of mine. We’ve pretty much rebuilt it from the engine up over the last couple of years.”
“What’s he want to do, sell it?” I asked as I peered into the engine.
I wasn’t much of a car guy
, but I knew a few things.
“Drive it,” he said as he unhooked the hood and slammed it shut. “He’s a young guy. Bought it dirt cheap, and sends it over to me when he can. I give him a good deal. One day it will be worth something. So I thought we could talk in the office.”
“Sure,” I said.
He brought me back through a glass door into a tiny and cramped office. The dimly lit room had a couple of folding chairs and dirty cream colored linoleum, and a sad looking gumball machine.
“Come on back here,” he gestured toward a small room with a desk. It overflowed with papers, and an old desktop computer.
“Have a seat,” he gestured toward a folding chair. “You want coffee or anything?”
I shook my head as I wondered if anything coming out of this office would be sanitary to eat or drink.
“Nah, thanks,” I said. “How’s business?”
“Good,” he pulled a canister of wet naps out of a drawer and scrubbed his hands as he spoke.“This is my side project, here. Music is my wife, and cars are my mistress.”
I laughed as I thought about my own work-life balance. “I understand the sentiment.”
“I opened this place a while back,” he said. “But the band had me touring a lot. Couldn’t stay put long enough to keep the business going. My nephew runs it for me now. So, it’s a good revenue stream and it allows me to travel. But, now with...uh...this whole thing…”
He shook his head and whistled and then he shoved the dirty napkins into a trash can.
“Man, it’s been tough on all of us,” he said. “The shop’s been great to keep my mind off things.”
“I bet,” I said.
“Losing James was hard,” he said. “I know some of the guys might have given you the wrong impression the other night, and they all feel bad about that, believe me. We’re a big family here, and families fight.”
They don’t typically make out with each other’s wives, though, I thought.
“How long were you with the band?” I asked.
“Uh,” he searched the ceiling. “I want to say six years?”
“How did you get involved?” I knew I sounded like a reporter, but I wanted to know if the Kelsi connection had anything to do with him joining the band in the first place.
“Listen,” he leaned forward and popped his meaty knuckles. “I’ve been in and out of the music business since as long as I can remember. I’ve managed bands all over. New York, San Francisco, I even lived in Australia for a while, and worked with a really great band, called SonicRush. We toured all over. We went to Hong Kong, Russia, Europe, Ibiza, you name it. We played everywhere. Do you know, that I once had drinks with Prince William?”
I laughed. “I did not know that.”
“Yeah,” he said. “He was in a bar and London, it was before he was married. I think Kate was in the picture, but it wasn’t serious. But he was into our sound, and he complimented us, bought us all drinks, and we hung out for a little while. Nice guy.”
“Impressive,” I said. “Why did you leave such a great gig?”
“Well,” a shadow fell across his face. “As things go, band politics are what they are. And, I think we all just outgrew each other.”
I nodded. Typically when people vaguely philosophize a parting of ways, they were at fault.
“Then,” he said. “I’d made some money. I was originally from Sedona. So, I took the money and came back home. Thought I’d do something new for a while. Created all of this.”
He gestured around to the shop.
“It was good,” he nodded slowly. “It was cathartic. Loved it. I grew up around cars, and when you’re dealing with these bands on the rise, you’re always fixing some hooptie van.”
I laughed. “I know that’s the truth.”
“Listen,” he said. “Touring is no glamorous business. Everybody wants to be a rock star. But, no one wants to be in the middle of the New Mexico desert, stranded on the side of the road, cause the alternator on your hooptie van went out. And, all that happened before smart phones. Back when you had those little uh...Nokia’s with the T9 texting, and the monochrome screen.”
He laughed heartily. “Trying finding a mechanic in the middle of God knows where New Mexico when all you’ve got are a couple of those.”
“I’ll bet that was difficult,” I smiled.
“Oh, I could tell you some stories,” he shook his head and clasped his meaty hands together over the desk. “So, after ten, fifteen years of that, I went to a mechanic school for eighteen months, and then opened my own shop. It’s been great.”
“How long did you own the shop before you got involved with the band?” I asked.
I needed to get the conversation back on track.
“Well,” he said. “James Matthews approached me out of the blue. Said he needed a manager. He wanted to get more exposure, out of Sedona. At first I told him, no. I was done with music.”
“And what changed your mind?” I asked.
“Oh,” he said. “James invited me to one of his shows, and it was good. And I couldn’t keep from being involved.”
Something about that sounded too fishy and vague. I suspected Kelsi had something to do with him changing his mind.
“I heard you knew Kelsi from way back,” I said.
“I did,” he nodded. “Kelsi…”
His voice trailed off for a minute and then he had a faraway look in his eyes.
“Kelsi was in the first band I managed,” he said. “It was a couple of girls called Lips. It was the summer after high school for them, and they were just having fun. Nothing serious. They were alright, for a bunch of kids that didn’t know how to play. I booked them a few coffee houses and festivals and then one of the girls went off to college, and you know how it goes after that.”
“Right,” I said. “And what was your relationship with Kelsi after that?”
He made a face and then his tone turned defensive. “If you’re implying that I had a romantic relationship with her--”
“Whoa, I’m not implying anything,” I replied. “You had a professional relationship with her, and then later on with her husband and I figured that’s connected. Really, I’m just trying to find out how Kelsi went to Africa and then wound up with a dead husband and elephant tusks in her backyard.”
“My sincerest condolences go out to Kelsi,” he said. “But I don’t know anything about either of those incidents.”
“I didn’t say you did,” I responded. “But, you knew all of those guys. You knew more about what was going on on that tour than any of them, didn’t you?”
“What makes you think that?” he raised an eyebrow.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a copy of the contract between James and Roy.
“You had James’ ear,” I said. “Why?”
Roy leaned back in his chair and pursed his lips as he stared at a fixed point on the wall. Then he turned back to me.
“James was a hard man to know,” he said. “Smart as a whip and talented to boot. But, he could be cold and calculating, that’s why Kelsi was--”
He stopped himself mid-sentence and shook his head of the thought.
“Why Kelsi was what?” I asked.
“Nevermind,” he sat up straighter in his chair. “I signed a contract with James because I knew he was going somewhere, and I knew what he knew. He wasn’t going anywhere with that amateur band behind him. He needed real talent.”
“Whose idea was it to fire the band?” I asked.
“His,” he said. “Look, this is all sensitive band politics that I don’t care to discuss, and it has little to no bearing on Kelsi’s current predicament.”
“On the contrary,” I smiled. “I think it has everything to do with Kelsi’s current predicament.”
He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “How so?”
“Try this on,” I rose and leaned over his desk.
A slight smile played about his lips, and his eyes twinkled with amusement.
&nbs
p; “You and Kelsi had an on and off fling since she was barely legal,” I started.
Roy raised his eyebrows, grinned sideways, and his belly shook with silent laughter.
“You moved back here to get her back,” I continued. “Only to find that she was happily married. Or so you thought. She came crawling back to you, and got you to manage her husband’s band as a cover.”
He cocked his head, and ran his tongue over his teeth.
“Is that so, John Grisham?” he mocked. “What happened next?”
His arrogance was meant to throw me off my game, but I charged on. The case had come together in my mind.
“James got into financial trouble of some sort,” I said. “You knew Irwin Montague.”
The smile faded from his face at the name.
“You introduced James and Irwin,” I continued. “And then booked the trip to Africa. Had him buying and selling contraband left and right. That’s what the whole trip to Africa, and the alleged donation to the Kenyan Wildlife Fund was all about. And then, James died with the feds on his heels. And you let Kelsi take the blame.”
He studied the desk and then glanced back up at me, anger smoldering in his dark eyes.
“Why?” I asked simply. “Why leave her out in the cold like that? What’s your angle?”
“As entertaining as your anecdote may be,” he said. “I’m afraid you’ve watched too many crime TV shows. You’re completely off base.”
“No, I’m not,” I held his eyes hard.
“Prove it,” he demanded.
“I intend to,” I said.
“This is a small town, Henry,” he began. “I’ll be seeing ya.”
On that comment, I turned and left the shop.
I drove back to our office, and arrived to find it a flurry of activity. Kelsi was in the office. The arraignment was in the morning, and she and Vicki were going over the details. AJ looked to be buried in requisition requests, and I handed her a sticky for another one.
“We will want the financials for both James and Kelsi, Roy, and the James Matthews Band,” I told her.
“Got it,” she said.
I settled into my desk and listened to Vicki and Kelsi.
“It will be quick,” Vicki told her. “The judge will read the charges and ask you how you plea.”
