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me, and justice will be served.”

“Spoken like a true lawyer,” she sighed.

“You’re going to be okay, Kelsi,” my voice softened.

“See you in two days,” she repeated

We ended the call and I opened the email that came in from the prosecutor’s office. It had the formal terms of the plea deal in a massive PDF file that was going to be fun to read.

AJ was back from class now, and she settled in for the day.

“Hey guys,” she sighed. “Can someone please explain to me why the hell I need to read Tale of Two Cities to be a private investigator?”

Vicki and I both laughed.

“College,” I smirked. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”

“Oh, god,” she said. “We have to memorize that paragraph. It’s positively useless.”

“I agree,” Vicki said.

“Well, it teaches you to read boring ass shit like this plea deal,” I muttered.

“We got the plea deal?” AJ asked. “On the Matthews case?”

I nodded.

“What are they offering?”

“Three to five,” I said. “

“Hmmm,” she said. “Not bad.”

I could tell something was on her mind and had been for several days.

“So what’s the deal with Phoenix and this studio?” she blurted out. “I had a meeting with him. He wants to absorb what Leila and I are already doing. And I’m told you, of all people, are behind it all.”

“I’m not trying to take over anyone’s idea,” I laughed. “You artistic types are all the same, always worried about someone taking over your art. No, I’m just investing in Phoenix’s studio, and I thought, all of you, Landon, Phoenix, you, Leila, could join forces. Recreate Steele Productions, but without the murder or sexual harrassment.”

“And what role would you have?” she asked.

“No real one,” I said. “I’d just sit back and collect my money. Phoenix would run it.”

“Hmm,” she said. “Leila was actually interested. We just weren’t sure what the dynamic would all be.”

“As far as you would be concerned,” I told her. “I’m not even a part of it. My role is pretty much just between Phoenix and me.”

“Cool,” she said. “I mean, not cool that you’re won’t be involved. It’s just my writing is not always...professional...shall I put it that way?”

I laughed. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m too busy planning a wedding, building a house, and defending a woman on a smuggling charge to read your NSFW screenplay.”

AJ blushed, and Vicki laughed.

“It’s not erotica,” AJ defended. “It’s just goofy humor.”

My phone beeped with an e-mail.

“Ah, yes,” I said. “The footage came through.”

I had ordered the footage of the event from Starbright Media, and I finally got it in.

I clicked on it and Vicki and AJ gathered around my desk.We watched the corny opening monologue, and I fast forward through the t-shirt contest, and my own cameo in the broadcast.

Finally, we got to James’ song. Then the transmission showed James’ horrified expression and ended there.

“There was nothing here,” AJ said. “What are we doing with this?”

“Nothing right now,” I said. “I need to figure out how the smuggling and the death are connected.”

Over the next week, I pored over every piece of evidence I had, and couldn’t find a single thing that connected these two events. Every instinct I had, and all the experience with criminal law I had, albeit limited, pointed to a connection. But, I couldn’t find it.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe I’d stumbled across too many complicated and convoluted murder plots, that I saw too many connections where there weren’t any.

I was about to give up, and urge Kelsi to once again take the plea deal, when she burst into our office.

“Kelsi,” I rose to greet her.

Her long blonde hair was tousled and frizzy in her face, and she wore sweatpants and a tank top with coffee stains. She had on dark shades that covered much of her face and carried a travel coffee mug.

“Are you okay?” Vicki asked. “Do you need water?”

“No,” she said breathlessly. “I’m fine. I’m just in a hurry. Two toddlers, and two jobs, and two legal cases, and I’m straight up losing my mind. And I’m already late for work, and I’ll just deal with it. And I’ve got coffee on my shirt.”

Her voice choked up and then she swallowed and smiled. She pulled two large accordian files out of her tote bag.

“I don’t know what’s in here,” she said. “These are all James’ records. He-- I don’t know.”

There was one paper stuck to her hand and then it dropped to the floor.

“Ooops,” she said. “I’m making a mess here. Look at me.”

When she bent to pick it up, her coffee spilled onto the floor and onto the paper.

“I’m so sorry,” she gushed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Vicki said as she grabbed paper towels and bent to clean the mess.

Kelsi was on her knees, desperately and apologetically trying to scrub the floor, and her tote bag spilled dry cereal and tampons everywhere. The paper was still on the floor, and her shoe had just ripped it.

“Kelsi,” I said. “It’s okay. We’ve got it. Go. Go to work. It’s okay. Coffee spills.”

“Right, right,” she said. “You guys have to…”

She grabbed her bag off the ground and the tampons scattered everywhere. She buried her face in her hands.

“And you know what the worst thing is,” she said. “This isn’t even the worst day I’ve had this week.”

Vicki calmly picked up the tampons which had now rolled under my desk and Kelsi had passed the point of embarrassment, and just laughed hysterically. She laughed so long I thought she would flip a switch and begin weeping in our office.

“Here,” Vicki handed the tampons to her and Kelsi slipped them into her bag.

“Thanks,” she sighed. “I’m

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