by Dave Daren
“It’s so good to see you, Henry,” my mother said as she wrapped me into a hug. “I didn’t know if you’d come.” The sentiment was passive-aggressive, but I decided not to address it.
“Of course, I would come.” I pulled back from my mother as my dad came around the bus to greet me. He was notably balder than he was the last time I saw him.
“Henry.” He nodded to me curtly.
“Dad.” I nodded back.
The door to the back of the bus slid open next, and my brother, Phoenix hopped out. His black hair hung over his eyes, pressed down against his head with a yellow beanie with some young-person phrase printed on it.
“Sup, Henry.” Phoenix waved to me unenthusiastically. He’d been barely starting sixth grade when I’d left for law school. His disappointment in my leaving had been rooted in disapproval that I’d be working for “the man.”
“Well, I would say it’s nice to see you all,” I said as I tried to ease the tension, “but considering the circumstances…”
“Well, it sure seemed like you wouldn’t come to visit us under any other circumstances,” my mother huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Now, now, Saffron.” My father patted my mother on the shoulder. “Don’t mind her, Henry. She’s still upset that you’re not on Broadway.”
“Acting is a window to the soul!” my mother complained. “And you gave it all away for some law degree and fancy--”
“Are we really going to do this right now?” I interrupted her.
“No.” My father cleared his throat and glanced at my mother. “We aren’t.”
“Good, because I’m here to bail out Harmony,” I assured them. “We don’t need to revisit old gripes.”
“You don’t want to gripe about a murder?” Phoenix frowned.
“I meant between us.”
“Oh, we’re happy to see you, Henry,” my mother assured me. “Sorry, I went off the handle a bit. It’s just that seeing you again made me think about all your potential…”
“Mom.” I sighed as I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Give it a rest, okay? This is why I don’t come back to visit.”
“We know,” my father said. “Your mother and I are going to work on it while you are here. We appreciate you coming back. Come on, we’ll take you to Harmony.”
My family drove me to the Sedona Police Department where Harmony was being held. I rode in the back with Phoenix while my dad drove the clunky vehicle. The refreshingly uncongested roads were unfamiliar to me. I’d grown accustomed to the LA traffic and driving at one speed continuously for several minutes was a rare treat. The small city that flew by me was a piecemeal assembly of untouched nature, cartoonishly cowboy-themed bars and restaurants, and artistically inclined businesses.
“Your sister is currently being held at the station,” my father explained. “If we don’t bail her out now, she’ll be transported to Yavapai County Detention Center in the morning.”
“I was told we would need to hire a bail bondsman,” my mother reported. “Do you know anything about that, Henry?”
“We don’t need a bail bondsman.” I shook my head. “I can pay the bail.”
“It’s not chump change, Henry,” my dad told me.
“Yes, I’m aware,” I said with a nod. “I can take care of it.”
My parents exchanged bewildered looks.
“Who’s Harmony’s lawyer?” I asked.
“Can’t you do that?” My father frowned.
“No, not in Arizona.” I shook my head. “I haven’t passed the bar exam.”
“Oh,” my father pouted.
“So, who is her lawyer?” I asked again.
“Well, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “The public defender, I guess. I didn’t get his name.”
My family finally pulled up in front of the police station, and I fished my checkbook out of my luggage bags before walking toward the building.
The police station was the same orange-red that it seemed most of the rest of Sedona was. It was much smaller than police stations I was used to. A few rows of desks were dispersed throughout the room, but only a few of them had people working. Entering a small-town police station so early in the morning resulted in the grand total of about three officers who took several seconds to notice I was there. The perkiest among them was someone I actually recognized.
“Leonard Colby?” I exclaimed at the familiar face.
The man at the desk closest to me looked up. “Henry!” He smiled at me. “Well, ain’t it been a while!”
“Good to see you,” I said as he shook my hand from across the desk. “It has been a while.”
Leonard had gone to high school with me years ago. He’d been quite the English nerd, quoting Shakespeare without any irony and listing off the most underrated plays of the year at every opportunity, yet he still found it most appropriate to say “ain’t” and “ya’ll” most of the time.
“Heard you’re some big shot lawyer in Los Angeles these days,” he said as he glanced down at my suit. “You sure are dressed like one.”
“I wouldn’t call myself a big shot,” I laughed, “but I do work in LA now.”
“You dating actresses and stuff?” he asked as he wiggled his left eyebrow. “They all said that you were.”
“Uhh, who is ‘they all?’” I asked.
“Everyone.” He nodded out the door. “We all miss ya. Been too long. Anyways, I bet you didn’t come here just to see me. Did ya?”
“I’m posting bail for Harmony,” I announced as I waved my checkbook in the air.
“Ahh, right,” he sighed, and I guessed that he just recalled the murder investigation.
“How much?” I asked.
“It’s fifty large.” Leonard winced as the words left his mouth.
“Fine,” I replied as I opened my checkbook and started writing.
“Hank!” Leonard shouted to the back bullpen. “Get Irving out here. Her brother is posting bail.”
“You got it, boss,” a skinny kid dressed in a slightly too big uniform said as he jumped up from his desk. Then he gave me a nod from across the room before he walked around the back corner.
“This is a pretty rough situation for her,” Leonard said as he turned back to me. “I never thought she’d do something like this.”
“Come on,” I corrected him quickly. “You know her. You know she didn’t do this.”
“Y'all know I can’t comment on that,” he said with a sigh, “but I’m going to do my best to make sure I do a thorough investigation. If she is innocent, I’ll find the proof.”
“You are the detective on the case?” I asked.
“Sure am,” he proclaimed as he pulled a badge out of his pocket to show me. “Got promoted a few years ago.”
“If you’re the detective, then I’d like to ask you a few questions,” I requested.
He frowned at me. “You her lawyer?” he asked. “I’m not supposed to talk to anyone but her defense.”
“I’m a lawyer,” I said as I gave him a wink.
“Hmmm,” Leonard said as he tapped his chin. “We go way back, so I guess I could talk about it off the record then. Just don’t get me in trouble.”
“We never had this conversation,” I replied.
“Good,” he said with a swift nod. Then he glanced around the station to see if anyone else was paying attention to the conversation. No one was, but he still dropped his voice into a bit of a whisper.
“Why would anyone think a 30-year-old artist with no criminal record would kill someone?” I asked. I didn’t doubt that he knew the minute details about this case. It wasn’t like there was an overabundance of murders in Sedona.
“It doesn’t look good,” he started. “Some snobby art critic was found dead in her art gallery.”
“That doesn’t mean she put him there,” I pointed out.
“No, but the victim had just published a rather savage review of her work,” he explained. “None of that constructive criticism stuff.
Stuff like ‘I would rather puncture my eyes with rusty screws than have to look at Harmony Irving’s laughably uninspired work again.’”
“Wow. You had that memorized.”
“You know me, Henry.” He chuckled. “I appreciate visually evocative insults.”
Harmony finally came into view as she walked around the corner. She looked a bit disheveled and exhausted, her eyes had dark black bags underneath them, and she clearly had been crying. It made my heart sink, and tears almost welled up in my eyes.
“Henry!” Harmony exclaimed. She was the only family member whose enthusiasm I actually believed, and her sudden smile warmed my heart.
Coming out here was all suddenly worth it.
“You seem like you’ve found yourself in a bit of trouble, sis,” I observed in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“I didn’t kill anybody,” she proclaimed as she passed Leonard’s desk and gave me a hug.
“I know that,” I calmed her. “If I handed you a gun, you couldn’t point out where the trigger is.”
“Well, it was a knife that was used in the murder,” she corrected me.
I raised an eyebrow.
“A murder that I did not commit!” she amended as she glared at Leonard.
“You mind if I stuck around a second, Harmony?” I asked. “I haven’t seen Leonard in a while so I want to talk to him for a moment. Mom and dad are out front in the van.”
“Sure.” She nodded. “And thanks for bailing me out.”
“No problem,” I said, and I watched to make sure Harmony was gone before I turned back to Leonard.
“A critic’s job is to critique,” I continued our conversation right where we left off. “Just because he criticized Harmony doesn’t mean Harmony had a motive to actually kill him.”
“She had repeatedly said ‘I’m totally gonna kill that dude’ to multiple witnesses,” he replied.
“That’s obviously a joke! We’ve all said stuff like that.”
“It would’ve been a joke if that guy hadn’t actually been killed,” the detective said with a casual shrug. “The murder weapon in her art supplies isn’t a giveaway to you?”
“That’s very curious, were her prints on it?”
“No, but she could easily have cleaned ‘em off.” My old friend shrugged. “It ain’t rocket science. Like I said, I’m going to do my best to make sure I find any clues, but it doesn’t look good.”
“Is there any other evidence linking her to the murder?” I asked.
“You bet,” he chirped proudly. “We got security footage of her at the time of the murder with the victim’s blood all over her.”
“Well, you can’t tell by looking at it whether it was the victim’s blood,” I argued.
He shrugged. “Sure, but forensics took a sample from the shirt she had on and they say it is.”
“Well, I can’t wait to have my own forensics specialist analyze it during discovery,” I said. “Thank you for your time, and I look forward to working with you to prove my sister’s innocence.”
“Look, Henry.” Leonard sighed. “Don’t be mad at me. This isn’t my fault. I’m just doing my job.”
“I know,” I said after I took a deep breath. “I’m not putting this on you. This has to be a mistake. She didn’t do it.”
“I hope you are right,” Leonard said. “I really do. I’ve known you and Harmony my whole life. I’ll keep working it. How long are you gonna be in town?
“Until I prove she is innocent,” I said.
“Good,” Leonard said. “You wanna grab a beer some time? Lots of people miss ya, and it would be good to catch up.”
I struggled with the answer for a few moments. I’d left Sedona to start a new life, and while I had fond memories of the place, I hadn’t done a good job of maintaining any of the friendships I once had.
Finally, I said, “Yeah, sure."
“Alright,” Leonard said with a half-smile. “What phone number do ya have now?”
Leonard and I exchanged numbers, and then I stepped away from the officer and shuffled out of the police station fifty thousand dollars poorer. As soon as I walked out, I saw my sister hugging my crying mom while my dad patted her on the back.
“You didn’t actually kill that guy, did you?” Phoenix asked her when I came to stand next to them.
“Of course not, dweeb,” Harmony tried to laugh it off as she wrapped Phoenix in a hug as well.
“You all ready to go?” I asked as I opened the van’s door.
“Yeah,” Harmony answered as she pulled away from Phoenix and wiped a tear away from her cheeks.
“We’ll clear up this whole misunderstanding,” my dad promised firmly.
“I know you all will,” she said, and then she turned back to me. “Thanks again from coming, Henry, and thanks again for bailing me out.”
“It’s fine,” I replied. “Let’s get a move on.”
The entire Irving family was crammed into the same place for the first time in years. All it took was one murder accusation.
“I didn’t kill him,” Harmony said suddenly.
“I know,” I repeated because I still believed she didn’t. “They said they have security footage of you covered in the victim’s blood, what was that?”
“Paint!” she exclaimed, as though this should be obvious. “I’m a painter! It was very obviously paint!”
“Forensics say it was the victim’s blood,” I stated matter-of-factly.
“I don’t know!” She threw her hands up in the air. “Maybe paint has kind of the same stuff in it as blood and--”
“It definitely doesn’t.” I shook my head.
“Yeah, okay, well.” She dropped her hands into her lap and hung her head, “I have no idea then.”
She slouched over and looked overwhelmed and defeated. Her dark hair was usually haphazardly tied up behind her to keep it out of her eyes as she painted, but now it hung loose and disheveled around her neck.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said as I patted her on the back. “Whatever the weird truth of this whole thing is, we can find it.”
“Will you be my lawyer?” she asked me hopefully. “The lawyer I have now definitely thinks I’m guilty.”
“You know I would, but I can’t.” I shook my head. “I’m only allowed to practice law in California.”
“Oh…” she trailed off sadly.
“You wouldn’t want me as your defender anyway,” I explained. “I mostly specialize in whether an actor or musician’s contract was fair or not. I don’t know if that translates to this kind of thing, but I’m going to get you the best criminal defense lawyer in Arizona.”
“The law is just a tool crafted by The Man to keep us little people in line anyway,” Phoenix cut in from Harmony’s other side.
“Thank you, Phoenix, for your insight,” I said with more than a little sarcasm, but at the same time, his words made Harmony laugh, so my appreciation was somewhat genuine.
“I know you didn’t do it,” my mother chimed in. “I did a reading on your aura before you went to work that day. It was positively pink. No way could someone with a pink aura have killed someone.”
“If only auras held up in court,” I said with a sigh. “Who is your current lawyer, by the way, Harmony?” I asked.
“You know him from high school,” Harmony replied. “Toby Lithgoe.”
“Ugh,” I sighed.
Toby Lithgoe and I both took an interest in law in high school. I was fascinated by the complexity of the law, the way well-meaning people could manipulate a situation and how a lawyer could ensure truth and justice was maintained, the use of charisma and articulation for the good of someone else rather than just for attention. My fascination with how powerful words could be was probably how I ended up dealing mostly in contract law.
“What does that sound mean?” my father asked.
“You don’t like public defenders?” My mother frowned.
“I fully respect public defenders,” I assured t
hem. “I remember Toby, though.”
“Well, he hasn’t changed much from whatever your picturing,” Harmony grumbled. “I still see him around town. He tried to run for office a while back.”
“What office?” I asked. “City Council?”
“Yeah, but he didn’t follow through,” she said. “He didn’t even know what all the positions were.”
I frowned. “He doesn’t know how Google works?”
“Couldn’t be bothered, I guess.” Harmony shrugged.
“I’ll get you another lawyer,” I said.
My determined resolve hung in the air for a tense moment.
“How about some nifty tunes?” my dad suggested in the dorkiest way possible to try to lighten the mood.
“Yes,” Phoenix reacted emphatically, thrilled to leave behind the sentimentality. “Put on some Rage Against the Machine.”
“How about something a bit more relaxing?” my dad suggested.
My dad flipped on the radio, and a soft, melodic Enya song filled the car. My mother began gleefully singing along in a voice much louder than I imagined even Enya had intended. Even my brother hummed along.
I settled back into my seat and waited for the car ride to end.
The song was actually pretty good though.
It was mid-morning by the time I reached my childhood home. It was a modest place that had been painted various gaudy colors throughout the time I’d spent living there. Currently, it was baby blue. The yard was full of gravel instead of grass after Phoenix had emphatically declared a war on lawns and claimed that they were merely an indicator of wealth and recklessly stole land and water from Mother Earth. I could barely see the top of the childhood treehouse in the backyard, draped over with linens and blankets.
My family poured out of the car to head inside.
“I’m going to bed right now,” Phoenix announced eloquently.
“Do you have any classes today?” I asked him.
“I’m taking a semester off,” he revealed as he walked to the house.
“Another one?” I chuckled, but he was already gone. My parents sagged with fatigue as they followed closely behind him.
