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Chapter 11

Thursday evening rolled on into the night, and the downtown street lamps cast a soft glow into the fully lit windows of our office. We had a deadline for close of business Friday, and we still had too many loose ends.

At nine p.m., Sedona was well into its nightlife scene. The handful of bars and restaurants within a block radius drew the occasional foot traffic that peered into our windows, wondering why we weren’t either in bed or partying.

We were making money, that’s why. Or at least trying to anyway.

Over Fifth Street Bistro and a table littered with a full day’s worth of Jitters cups, AJ, Vicki, and I sat in our conference room and tried to make sense of everything we knew.

Hindu techno played softly in the background, and AJ had all but moved into the conference room. Her black pumps laid in a heap in a corner, and she walked around barefoot.

“Where are we on those tapes?” I asked.

“Nowhere,” she sighed. “There was where one Jerry talked for an hour and a half about his views on space travel. But that was it.”

“What were Jerry’s views on space travel?” Vicki questioned with a frown.

“He has it all figured out how we could colonize Mars.” AJ shrugged. “He kept referencing a primer he wrote on how to build the biodome, and how he was going to put it online. I checked. He never did.”

“Okay,” I said, and I leaned back and popped my elbows over my head. “So, where are we on all of the interviews? Let’s get a status report. Leila Jaxson. Go.”

“Leila Jaxson,” Vicki recited, “Jerry’s assistant, and part-time music journalist. She said she knew nothing other than Jerry can be shady sometimes, and that Clare’s a nutcase who definitely killed Jerry for insurance money.”

“I talked to Leila as well,” I said. “She gave me the security clip.”

“In which the camera had been altered,” AJ supplied.

“Right,” I mused and rubbed my chin. “She also seems to have some bad blood with Allison Pierce, which potentially puts her right at the outer edge of their love triangle. She also had the means and opportunity, but if she had a motive, we don’t know.”

“Really?” Vicki asked and scrunched her face. “You’re still on that? Leila and Jerry? Ugh. She’s too cool for him.”

“Everyone is too cool for him, and he still did well,” I pointed out. “It’s a small town. The pickings are slim.”

“Oh my gosh,” AJ gushed. “Isn’t that the truth!”

“See?” I cocked an eyebrow at Vicki and gestured to AJ. “She knows. She’s from here. I had to leave.”

“Leila’s not that desperate,” Vicki argued. “She wouldn’t go for Jerry.”

“Okay,” AJ was now at the whiteboard making shorthand notes of all of this, “so that’s Leila. Who’s next?”

“Clare Clearmont,” I said. “That would be me.”

“Crazy ex-wife,” Vicki muttered.

“Yes,” I nodded, “definitely the crazy ex-wife. She’s on medication, and has a history of psychiatric treatment. She’s also got a million dollar life insurance settlement coming her way. She’s probably got some old marital issues that something or another set off, which would give her something of a motive. Plus, she lied about her alibi.”

“And all that stuff Leila was saying about stress vacations?” Vicki added. “I talked to a neighbor, who confirmed it. Said she watches Thad constantly, and she said when Jerry comes over, he and Leila scream and yell. She’s called the cops on them, they’re so bad.”

“Did she tell you what these arguments are about?” I asked.

“Custody,” Vicki shrugged, “child support. The past.”

I frowned. “I don’t see how he could take custody with him living in that pigsty.”

“I think that’s probably part of the neighbor’s point,” Vicki remarked.

“Had the neighbor been to Jerry’s house?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Vicki said, “but when Jerry lived with Clare, apparently it was a health hazard. The neighbor said she would come over there and offer to clean just for Thad’s sake.”

“So,” I sighed, “Clare’s unstable in so many ways, and they’ve got a stormy relationship. But that doesn’t make her a murderer.”

“No,” Vicki conceded, “but then there’s the life insurance money.”

“Always follow the money,” I murmured as I chewed my lip. Then I clapped my hands together. “Okay. I think we’ve covered Clare. Who else do we have?”

“Allison and Ken,” Vicki said.

“There’s a piece of work,” I snorted. “I’m biased right now, though, because we just talked to them.”

“Right,” Vicki said, “but they came off shady by the end.”

“Should we put them separate?” AJ said.

“Yeah,” I nodded after a moment of deliberation, “I think they could be one without the other. So, Allison fakes being drunk, and then gives us this whole story about how she was in love with Jerry, and he was going to take her away with him to L.A. and help her become a big star.”

“Did the story seem to lack a bit of romance?” Vicki asked.

“Yes,” I chuckled dryly. “It seemed all about his connections, and how they would benefit her … ” I trailed off and frowned. “Wait. What the hell is this?”

The tape playing in the background had stopped with the typical Hindu pop and was now onto some kind of other keyboard based pulsating sound that was so bad, I couldn’t even find the rhythm.

“Korean,” Vicki suddenly announced with a furrowed brow. “This is Korean.”

I raised an eyebrow. Vicki spoke Korean.

“What are they saying?” I asked.

She listened for a minute and then spoke slowly. “It’s a break up song. ‘You divorced me, and sent me away, because I couldn’t make the life you deserved. Shame on me. Shame on you. You left me with nothing. Nothing. Not even a crumb to win back my son’s heart, which you keep locked … in

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