Sedona Law 4 by Dave Daren (ready to read books TXT) 📕

‘our next move.’ And I talk shit, but in a way, he’s inspiring. The energy he gets from what he does. It makes me remember why I became a reporter in the first place.”

“I remember that about you,” I said as I had a sudden recollection of my high school days. “I had totally forgotten that was you, back in high school. You were on the paper staff.”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I didn’t know if you’d remember me. You were always with the edgy, theater snobs, and I was the newspaper nerd with my laptop and a voice recorder.”

I laughed, because he wasn’t wrong. It was odd how much those high school days and stereotypes defined people as an adult. They shouldn’t, but they do.

“These days,” I said. “I live by my laptop and voice recorder, too, no judgment here.”

He laughed. “I’ll bet you do. I heard about the whole Laryn Overmire thing.”

I sighed. Laryn Overmire was a college student that had been blackmailed and almost killed over a recording she inadvertently made of a conversation between a drug dealer and city councilwoman. The recording happened to be a large piece of the case we were working on. Once she sent it to us, we were able to bring justice not only to our client, but to her in the process.

“I’m just glad we got to the bottom of that mess,” I said.

“Look,” he said. “You’ve been on our list of people to watch for a while. You’re an up and comer in town, and we’ve been looking for a good angle to do a feature on you anyway. I’ve already taken the video down and deactivated Jerry’s login. I don’t care how good a videographer you are, you can’t be reckless with the content. But, let me make it up to you. Let us do a feature on you and your team.”

“A feature?” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sedona native goes to the big city, makes a name for himself, comes back home, and kicks small town ass. It’s a compelling narrative.”

“Well,” I said. “I don’t know about all of that.”

“Are you kidding me?” he said. “The case you did for your sister? We followed that here. No one thought she had a chance. You turned it around and proved everybody wrong. An art scam and a Russian mobster here in Sedona? You gave us headlines for weeks!”

I laughed. “I guess that would have been quite the sensationalist event.”

“Then there was Clifton Melbourne’s murder,” he continued, “or death rather, and that was insane. There was a shootout in the middle of the film festival. We had reporters camped out here all night, doing write-ups as the information came in from the cops, the witnesses. This was some sexy stuff for Sedona. I was in Virginia when it all went down, and I flew home for the story. They were blowing up my phone in the airport.”

“I think I ended up in one of those stories,” I briefly recalled.

“Did you?” he said. “Yeah, I think we may have reached out to you for a quote. Look, you’re a compelling figure, and people like you. And they don’t just like you. They like Vicki, too. They think you’re a young, cool, L.A. power couple come to set justice right. They love her. Women copy her fashion tips.”

“Really?” I said dubiously. Vicki was always fashionable, but I didn’t think she was a trendsetter or anything.

“Yeah,” he said. “She’s hip, cool, modern, beautiful, and smart. Women are ordering stuff online just because she wears it.”

“I had no idea,” I said.

“She’s the Kate Middleton of Sedona,” he said.

“Uh…” I said. “I don’t--”

“Look,” He said. “Let them get to know you guys. Let’s do a feature.”

I sighed. This guy was good for the ego, I had to give him that. But the Kate Middleton of Sedona? Whether it was all bullshit or not, I didn’t know. But, it sure felt good.

“Yeah,” I said as I stroked my chin. “That would be great.”

“Good,” he said. “Let’s set a time next week for you guys to come in. We’ll do a video feature here in our studio.”

“Perfect,” I said.

We pinned down on the specifics of the interview, and then I got off the phone. Now, all I had to do was explain all of this to Kate Middleton.

Chapter 11

“Kate Middleton of Sedona?” Vicki laughed. “Really?”

“That’s what he said,” I replied.

We were in our cottage now, surrounded by takeout from Fifth Avenue Bistro. We lounged in our bed, and Downton Abbey ran in the background. Vicki deliberately stuffed her mouth full of rice, talked around it, and tossed her head.

“Do I look like a Duchess?” she garbled.

I laughed. “Prince William doesn’t know what he’s missing. Which is good, cause otherwise I’d have to kick his ass, and I don’t know if that’s an international crime.”

“I don’t know what happened to that guy,” she said. “When he was young, he was good looking, and cool, and he was literally Prince Charming.”

“And I want to hear this, why?” I replied.

She laughed. “Are you jealous I’m going to run off with Prince William?”

“I wasn’t until now,” I chuckled.

“I actually thought about it,” she said.

My eyes widened. “You’re joking.”

“No,” she said. “He’s not a whole lot older than we are, and before he was married, he was the most eligible bachelor in the world. Every girl our age thought about it. So, I applied for a study abroad in London, thought I had as much a chance as anyone.”

“Really?” I asked. “Was this before or after your groupie phase?”

“Okay,” she said. “I was never a groupie. I just liked going to shows, and loved the energy, music, and people. And my study abroad attempt was right in the