Sedona Law 6 by Dave Daren (ebook pdf reader for pc .TXT) 📕

hell? Maybe expanding the Irving family’s presence in Sedona could wait a couple hours.

After a pleasant delay, I dressed and headed out for my first mission of the day. Phoenix. I met him  in Landon’s RV.

Landon Verhelst was our contract graphic designer, and had his home on wheels parked in the Red Rocks with a picturesque view.  I credited his appreciation for visual art for that. I looked over the brown tin contraption and couldn’t imagine my paralegal ever voluntarily boarding that thing. Not even for her boyfriend.

“Come in,” Phoenix motioned from the doorway.

I ducked into the narrow room. The whole thing inside was done in wood paneling, with a driver’s cab up front. In the middle, two couch seats in a floral print that went out of style before either of us were born, lined the sides.

A wooden pull out table was a spaghetti maze of laptops, camcorders and cords, while beer cans littered the floor. Beer? He was still twenty. But, then again, it wasn’t like I had my first drink at twenty one either.

“Looks like you’ve been enjoying having your own place,” I said as I flicked a pair of dirty underwear off the couch to sit down.

“It’s cool,” he shrugged. “Landon won’t be home for Thanksgiving for another two months. But, I’ve got a couple leads on some places.”

Based on the looks of the RV, I briefly vacillated on what I was about to do. Then I noticed the blankets and pillows on the couch.

“You sleep here?” I said. “There’s no bedroom in the back?”

“There is,” he smiled. “But I made some changes.”

He took me three feet down to a wooden pull out door to a bedroom area. I was shocked when I saw it.

He had taken out the bed and had the entire bedroom converted into a miniature production studio. I don’t know how many monitors and computer keyboards there were. Then, there was an electronic music keyboard set up on stand and connected a computer. On one screen, I noticed the sound waves of a recording software.

Like all of us, Phoenix had taken piano lessons as a kid. But, it never really stuck with any of us.

I could play a few Chopin pieces, and I once starred in a play where my character had to play Beethoven’s Fur Elise. But beyond that, my piano training was useless.

“What are you working on here?” I pointed to the monitors.

“This is the full length movie on the global refugee crisis,” he said.

“I saw the clip on the website,” I said.

He grinned. “You watched the clips online?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Good stuff.”

He nodded. “Well, I only put up the Columbia footage. But, the refugee crisis is a global problem. So, I’m working with a lot of stock footage to create a full length movie in time for the film festival in February.”

Last February, he had entered in the student category got an honorable mention, and even premiered it on the big screen. I was proud of him, but the film at the time, wasn’t so great. This, however, was such a remarkable improvement that I was shocked.

“What category are you doing next year?” I asked.

“Full length documentary,” he said. “This isn’t the student category, so it’s gotta be really well done. Which, I  know how to do it right, it’s just going to take time.”

“Right,” I said.

“This is what I’ve been working on today,” he said .

He clicked a mouse from somewhere and one of the monitors came alive. It was a  stock footage montage of refugee camps in Europe played with a haunting melody in the background.

“Where did you get the soundtrack?” I asked, as my specialty in copyright law kicked in.

“I wrote it,” he pointed to the keyboard. “It’s a pretty simple melody. I just added percussion in SoundPro.”

The clip lasted thirty seconds, and ended abruptly.

“That’s what I’ve got so far on that scene,” he said. “But I’ve got bits and pieces everywhere. Pretty cool, huh?”

He leaned back in his chair and grinned at me.

“That’s impressive, Phoenix,” I said.

“So,” he said. “About Lady Sara’s trust. Can I get the money?”

I heard him suck in his breath in anticipation. I rubbed my chin as I searched for the perfect way to answer the question.

“Shit,” he murmured as my pause answered him well enough.

“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said.

I leaned against the wall, acutely aware that he was drinking in my every word.

“I think you’ve got something here,” I gestured toward the monitors.

He laughed and shrugged.

“What, do you want to invest?” he snorted.

“Yeah,” I stated simply.

The smile faded from his face.

“Wait,” he said. “I was just joking.”

“I know you were,” I said. “But I wasn’t. After Jerry Steele died, there has been a pretty big hole in this town for a production studio. There’s a good sized community, contacts, actors, camera crew, scriptwriters--”

“Wait, wait,” he interrupted. “I’ve got a vision here and I’m doing pretty good on my own. I don’t need my rich big brother to come in and save my ass, and tell me how to run my own studio.”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s not what I’m doing at all, Phoenix.”

“Okay,” he frowned and crossed his arms. “Then what are you doing?”

I blinked in surprise. This was more difficult that I expected it to be. I thought he’d be ecstatic for an investor.

“I see an opportunity,” I said. “I’d be your senior partner. But, I’ve got my own business. I don’t have time to run yours. I just collect on my investment.”

“What do you mean about community?” he said.

“You can’t run a business on your own,” I said. “Not a profitable one. You have to have good people around you.