Disclaimer: Still don't own Phoenix Wright, House of the Rising Sun, Mission Impossible, Shadow Hearts, Kato, blah, blah, yeah. I own Cameron and the killer and stuff…
A/N: Back, older, probably not any wiser. That's why I'm attempting with this story again. I even have a wonderful helper, thanks to the suggestion of one reader.
(A powerful man walks in, elegance radiating from him. He, amazingly, bears a resemblance to one Masaji Kato—man of Shadow Hearts. He wears a proud smile, a curled strand of hair tapping against his forehead.)
Ah, it's Mr. Gumshoe, right on time.
(The man holds up a hand, decorated with several jewel embroidered rings.)
"Please, please," he says, a deep, dignified voice filling the room. "Gumshoe-sama will be just fine."
Oh, that's right, Mr. Gumshoe-sama. My apologies.
(Mr. Gumshoe is very rich now.)
"Gumshoe-sama, if you don't mind. I think I've earned it." Gumshoe-sama brushes a hand against his slicked back, ebony hair. His cape ripples behind him and he dusts off his navy military attire.
(Gumshoe-sama is a very powerful man now. More literate and definitely not stupid.)
"Psh," Gumshoe-sama laughs. "As if I was ever illiterate and stupid."
(Of course not, Gumshoe-sama.)
"Now then, my child. You may begin the story…but not before you kiss the ring." He holds out a hand, where one expensive and elaborate ring stands out above all the rest. He wiggles his fingers.
Now, kiss the ring.
You, Me, And The War Between Us
--
Chapter Three--Narrow Escape
--
After the night Phoenix Wright had, it wasn't strange to find him brewing his fourth cup of coffee. He hadn't expected to be riding home with Cameron that night. Heck, he hadn't expected to see Cameron at all! It had been eighteen years since their last time together. Of course during that time there had been a few letters, one long distance call, and several Christmas cards with pictures of each other as they grew, but nothing could ever fill that maturing hole between them. Phoenix could never understand why. He had never wanted that kind of estranged relationship with his brother, but since they lived far away from each other, it was inevitable.
Cameron lived with mom. Dad was gone. Phoenix lived with his grandmother. But why had that happened? He couldn't remember.
Maybe…he didn't want to remember?
He had come back from the bathroom right after Cameron's announcement about his living arrangements, ill and unhappy. His anguish wasn't directed at Cameron so much as it was toward his unfortunate predicament, but Cameron's sudden arrival didn't help any either. He wanted to catch up on lost years, that much was true, but he was afraid that if he had become distracted even for a mere moment, the culprit sending him these horrible letters would slip past his fingers and do something…unpleasant.
All the way home on the bus, Cameron chattered away to anyone who'd listen. Phoenix kept his concentration on the pull above him.
"So, I hope your apartment's cleaner than your room was, Phonics. I remember this one time you had a one-man pull wagon for your cowboys and Indians set and I walked in and stepped on it—"
"That was your wagon, Cameron, and I stepped on it because it was at the bottom of the stairs."
Cameron appeared thoughtful. "Oh yeah, huh?"
They arrived at the apartment and Cameron took the liberty of becoming his own tour guide.
"Wow, Nox! Your bathroom is huge!"
"It's a two bedroom apartment, so you can take the room across from the bathroom. My room is down the hall." Phoenix set his briefcase down and removed his coat.
He heard the door to his room open and Cameron was saying something about the lanai. Phoenix quickly rushed to his brother's side and instructed him to be careful with the plants outside. Cameron hung himself over the side, staring at all of the cars below in the parking lot.
"You got yourself quite the scenery, Nox."
"It's Phoenix, and I'm glad you like it, but don't hang over the side like that. You might fall."
"I appreciate your concern," the older flashed a smile, "but I'm a professional climber."
"Yeah, I remember hearing about your 'professionalism' with the tree in the backyard."
"It was an off day. I don't count that."
"You ended up in the hospital for a week!"
"And then I was all better. Oh, hey, is that a TV? You get basic cable, right? Steel Samurai comes on everyday on channel fourteen!" Cameron wandered away, leaving Phoenix on the lanai.
Cameron was back. He didn't know why. Phoenix didn't even know why he had left in the first place.
He had asked his grandmother about it once, but her circuitous answers made him regret asking at all.
Then, eight years ago, he heard that his mother had moved away to somewhere he could not follow, even if he wanted to. She was one who never kept in touch, so Phoenix shared his indifference by ripping up her new address that grandma had given him. Other than that, he remembered nothing of his past.
All he knew was that when he was seven, he had been torn from his family and forced to move to this city to live with his grandmother, on his father's side. At first, the transfer to the new school had been difficult and he found that making friends was not as easy as granny had promised.
He remembered being homesick, but it hadn't lasted for long and he didn't know exactly why. Slowly afterwards, everything had slipped from his mind. At times, though he felt ashamed for feeling so, he would forget that he ever had another family. That's why, he figured, he had been so surprised to see Cameron in the first place.
I even treated him like…a client…as though we weren't of the same blood at all. He frowned. I can't let what mom and dad did to us affect my relationship with Cameron. It's not his fault all of this happened. He hasn't been the same since the accident.
It didn't help that Phoenix was also busy trying to solve a mystery that somehow entangled him in it.
After that, Phoenix found Cameron preoccupied with the TV, and he locked himself in his room, typing away at his computer and glancing through articles and papers that were once located in Maxwell Ward's small shack. At first, Phoenix couldn't find anything useful. There was nothing in the pile except for articles about rich bigwigs—both alive and deceased. Some headlines were marked with "Rippon," which he figured was the name of the town where the crimes took place in.
Curling one end of his lip in frustration, he had begun to tap away at his computer, surfing the internet for local newspaper distributors in the city and several miles outside. He grew bored after a while, losing hope on finding anything that would solve his mysterious stalker, and his eyes darted to the clock.
One twenty-three. It's getting too late for me to continue this…but I have to. This evidence has to be returned tomorrow.
Deciding to check one more site, he had gone to a distributor's page twenty miles west of the city, and began to flip through pages of article headlines.
This is getting me nowhere. He spotted a search engine, "Can't hurt to try."
Maxwell Ward…
Click.
The page refreshed and he drummed his fingertips on the end of the computer desk.
Thirty-two matches found.
Flashing headlines had appeared at the top of the screen.
Murders Continue Around the City
Police Reports for 6/22/14
Two Men Arrested on Suspicion of Theft
The bottom one. Perhaps I'll find something there.
He clicked on it, waited for the page to load again, and then frowned.
I have to pay for the article!? …What a rip…It might not even be what I want.
Groaning, he tapped the 'buy now' button for ten cents. Filling out the blanks and signing the Wright and Co. Law Offices as the purchaser, he put the business card away in his wallet, grumbling.
Another page popped up on the screen; Phoenix realized it to be the article that he had just bought on the computer. His eyes skimmed over the headline once more before diverting away from it, the small scribble of font catching his eye.
"Men suspected of grand theft auto…blah, blah…caught last night in local diner…who cares…down at the precincts for…blah, blah, blah…questioning lasted until…whatever…Ah! Here it is…" He leaned back in his recliner, listening to it squeak beneath him. "Two men are suspects in this case. One is known as local burglar, Maxwell Ward, while the other is known simply as 'Doe.'" Phoenix could feel his eyes narrow. "Doe? What the…?"
Picture…there has to be a picture!
He had scrolled through the intricacy of the words until his eyes caught sight of a small graphic. Under it the caption read, "Doe has been unidentified yet due to a lack of cooperation. A picture has been provided for any witness help."
…Lack of cooperation? Well, I wonder if they eventually got his name, but it took so long to find these articles, I'm not sure I'm up for the hunt right now.
Nevertheless, he had a picture. It was fairly large and showed the sharp, clear image of a man in his late thirties. His buzz cut hairstyle reminded Phoenix of a military man, and his eyes were big and baggy. His nose showed evident signs of having been broken before and deep creases formed on both sides of his chapped lips. Several tattoos of unfamiliar designs coated the sides of his face and down along his neck. In one ear was a post and three, thin bands that looped around the cover of the ear at the top. His thick eyebrows were almost joined in unison, and Phoenix could tell that he was most unhappy with having his picture taken.
"Well then, Mister 'Doe,' let's just see where this picture gets us. Heh, heh…"
That had been a long day indeed…
Phoenix was snapped out of his thoughts when the coffee began to bubble and overflow. He jerked his body forward, quickly turning off the machine.
"Bit of trouble, Nox?"
The lawyer rolled his eyes, the thought of his brother giving him a jeer not far from his mind.
Accident or no accident, I think he knows what he's doing.
"If you're going to call me anything at all," he began with his back turned, "I'd prefer Nick to Nox."
"That's what I said."
Phoenix decided to digress from the current disagreement, and grabbed the handle of his coffee mug, spinning to face the older man. He was sprawled out on the couch, sofa hair sticking up all over the place. He was dressed in a dark blue robe, and watching kid shows.
"Uh…listen, Cam," the attorney began, "I have to go out today and try to find someone." His eyes refocused on the small table located in the kitchen, adjoined to his living room. Besides the vase with fake flowers settled there, the article with Doe's face was lying on the surface. "I know you just got here and all, but I promise I won't be real long with this errand." He tried to force a smile for his brother, "Okay?"
"Ya…sure…" Cameron wasn't paying attention. His eyes were glued on the rerun episode of Steel Samurai—one that happened to be a favorite of Maya's. Phoenix shuddered. He had seen that particular episode so many times that he could recite it by heart.
"…I'll be off then…" the younger brother set his mug on the counter in the kitchen and straightened his tie. His eyes continued to watch the engrossed man, "…to work…"
…Maybe he didn't hear me the first time.
The seconds turned into minutes and Phoenix glanced at his watch. He didn't have to be at Wright and Co. Law Offices, though he did feel bad about asking Maya to watch the place while he was out man-searching. He knew that that was not the way she wanted to spend her vacation here, but this was too important to let go. Still, he was surprised when she agreed, and without hesitance, too. He still had to stop by to collect the mail.
Picking up the steaming mug and bringing it back to his mouth, Phoenix chugged the last half of the hot liquid, feeling it warm his throat all the way down into his stomach. It was a nice, tepid sensation, and it washed away his drowsiness a little bit more. Placing the cup into the sink, his ears caught sound of clashing spears and running feet.
Oh…this is the part where the Steel Samurai saves the innkeeper's daughter from the hands of the Evil Magistrate. I have to admit, though it's kind of dumb to, I was on the edge of my seat the whole time. Maya was clutching my arm with fear in her eyes, as though she were afraid that the Steel Samurai wouldn't make it in time.
He walked into the bathroom around the corner, wetted his toothbrush and lined it with paste. Phoenix turned as he stuck it into his mouth, scrubbing at his teeth as he listened to the television in the other room. Cameron had it up pretty loud, but the younger man didn't complain. This was the best part of the episode.
Ah…the climactic scene where the Steel Samurai makes the daring leap into the fire, risking his own safety, and finds the girl bound and gagged in the corner. Just as he is about to release her from her shackles, he is ambushed by several of the Evil Magistrate's minions. They wear him down and the smoke sends him to his knees. But…just then…a secret force emerges from within the Steel Samurai, and the hut crumbles into the fire. Where is the Steel Samurai?
"There he is!" Phoenix heard a man shout from on the television. "Look! Up at the moon! He's carrying the girl in his arms!"
The Steel Samurai theme song began to play triumphantly in the background as Phoenix imagined the camera panning up towards the face of the Steel Samurai. He knew this part all too well. He heard his brother clap at the TV, whistling, and then Phoenix looked around the corner just as Cameron was pumping his fists into the air.
The lawyer rolled his eyes in annoyance as he spat into the sink, rinsed, and placed his toothbrush back into the holder. "Grow up, Cameron," he mumbled, halfheartedly.
Though, should I really be saying that? I think I was doing the same thing when I saw that episode.
Phoenix found himself smiling.
The credits were rolling after that and the narrator came on, saying something that foreshadowed the next episode…along the lines of utter and total defeat for the Steel Samurai. Of course, as he remembered Cody Hackins saying, the Steel Samurai always wins.
"Man…that had to be the best episode ever," he heard his brother say as Phoenix walked out of the bathroom.
"You are way too obsessed," the attorney remarked, moving toward his briefcase. He opened it and stashed some papers inside. Once done, he locked it up and pushed it behind the couch. "Anyway, I already told you that I had to go out, right?"
"No," Cameron blinked, his odd stare causing tension to form within Phoenix's muscles. "When was that?"
"…Never mind. Look, I have to go out for a little while, but I'll be back before long. Okay?"
"Yeah, sure. I know you have work to do. I'm not complaining."
The younger man's face scrunched with confusion.
Sometimes I think he's ADD. And other times…well…He hasn't been here long enough for me to judge him, yet, anyway. I'll give him more time. "Uh…thanks." he turned towards the table and reached for the article with Doe's face on it.
"Say…who are you looking for, anyway?"
Phoenix dropped the paper in surprise. Spinning around on one foot, he asked, "You…actually heard me?"
"Well, I didn't ignore you if that's what you're insinuating. Who are you looking for?"
Completing the thought from before…Other times, he just catches me off guard.
"Ah…Uh…Well…" Phoenix reached over to the makeshift coat rack on his wall, and began to dig through the pockets of his blue coat until he finally emerged with two letters. He tossed them in his brother's direction, "Whoever it was who sent me these."
Cameron caught them easily, and pulled back the tear on one of the envelopes, using his other hand to yank out the paper from within. Phoenix patiently waited as he unfolded the first letter, read it, and then repeated the same process with the second. The elder Wright shook his head and handed the letters back.
"Sounds like trouble to me," he said as the lawyer folded up each of the letters and stuffed them back into their envelopes. "Do you have any idea who the culprit is?"
"…Sort of." Phoenix placed the letters back into his jacket pocket before handing Cameron the article with the picture that he had printed last night. "See that guy who they're calling 'Doe?'"
"Yeah."
"He's a suspected accomplice in one of the cases that I just recently closed. I believe that he may have a grudge against me because I put his friend in jail." Phoenix waited for his brother to comment further, but when nothing came his way, he slowly asked, "What…do you think I should do?"
Cameron was silent a moment longer, causing more curiosity to swirl around within the lawyer. Phoenix opened his mouth to protest to the silence until his brother handed the article back, never giving it a second look.
"Me? I'd ask the guy what his deal was."
What? The younger man's jaw dropped at his brother's idea. What the heck did he just say?
"Cameron, if I did that, the guy would shoot me for sure. What would you have me do, walk casually up to him and ask what his grudge against me was? I'd come back with no face and in a casket."
"Well, hopefully it won't be an open coffin funeral." Phoenix glared at Cameron, prompting him to change the subject. "Hmm…" Cameron didn't seem to be catching on. He scratched his unshaven chin, ignoring the fact that his hair had fallen into his face. "All right, Mr. Big Lawyer…" he shifted positions on the couch, getting more comfortable, "…if I were you, I'd follow him."
"I can't drive."
"Well…learn."
Phoenix did not like that resolution. He did not like that resolution at all. But…following the man (considering if he found him) did not come off as a bad idea at all. If I want my answers, sometimes I have to do anything it takes.
"Well…I guess you're right." Phoenix folded the article and turned towards the door. "Hey, if you get bored, you can always go by the office. I'm sure Maya would enjoy your company. You two can talk Pink Princess and…all that stuff."
Cameron stared at him, but said nothing. What? Did I say something wrong? "Uh…do you want the key?"
The elder brother shrugged, "I guess. Mary isn't that bad of company. It might be fun."
"…It's Maya, Cameron."
"Right. I said that."
Rolling his eyes, Phoenix pulled the key off of the ring and tossed it in his brother's general direction, "Don't lose that key. I need it for work."
"Aye-aye, Captain," the older man's eyes had turned towards the television, almost zoning out completely.
He's watching TV again. He's not even paying attention anymore. Phoenix let out a heavy sigh, and grabbed his coat from off the rack. "See you later, Cameron."
He stepped outside the door, flipping through his wallet, wondering if he had enough money for a taxi.
--
Phoenix rapped his knuckles against the door several times, exasperated groans following afterwards, and he immediately regretted letting Cameron take the key to the office. He called out the acolyte's name for the twelfth time and let another string of words tag along behind. Frowning to himself, he began to kick the door.
"Open up, I say!"
He glanced at his wristwatch, and groaned. Eleven-thirty. Another rerun of Steel Samurai is on. Maya! Graaaaaaaaaah!
She was probably lounging in his recliner (she often tried to bribe him to switch desk chairs with her, which would lead to some fight and discouraging thoughts), spinning around in it, and watching his mini television. He could almost picture it now: Maya holding a big bowl of snacks…or ramen…whichever came first…the fan turned on full blast, and the volume on the TV cranked up beyond what was considered 'legal' so that disturbing the peace was in session.
Phoenix rammed his body against the door, nearly knocking it from its hinges, and his eyes darkened, "Mayaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
When the door swung open, he was surprised that he hadn't toppled inside. Must be my incredible balance. Yes! Mad skills!
"Maya!" Phoenix's face was budding red, his arms crossed over his chest. The young girl stood there, a dumbfounded look plastered across her usually bright face, holding the doorknob with one hand. "What have you been doing? I've been standing out here all this time waiting for you to open the door!"
She blinked, her eyes wide. "Don't look at me as though I've been doing something I shouldn't. I was cleaning your desk, Nick." Then she laughed. "No wonder you couldn't hear me. My headphones were on."
He thought about this excuse for a moment, but then countered, "That's no excuse. What's the door doing being locked, anyway? These are business hours, Maya."
She rolled her eyes, shrugging off his words with another laugh. "I was cleaning your desk, Nick," she repeated. "I didn't want anyone to stumble in and see what a pigsty it was."
"Hey!"
"Where are your keys, anyway? You shouldn't have to beat against the door."
Hitting a sore spot, Phoenix straightened his back and cleared his throat. "Um…about that…I gave them to Cameron for now."
"Huh?"
"I need…to run down to the precincts again for a little bit. I just came here to get the mail for today."
Maya looked about the office, a small whimper emitting as a sad look overtook her pretty face. "Niiiiick…you promised I could go with you the next time you went down there."
"Yes, well…" His trembling fingers were raking through his hair, and he realized that he was failing to make eye contact with her, "This is more of a man-searching trip, Maya. I'm not staying there for long…"
"That's what you said last time and you were gone for over two hours. Come on, Nick!"
He stepped around her and into the office. His eyes moved to his desk in the next room, looking for the mail. He heard her sigh and watched as she directed him to his office. He said nothing when he walked in and saw the hefty pile bundled up on his desk. Most of them are just bills, anyway. Phoenix gathered up the letters, sorted through them, and his eyes stopped on a familiar trademarked letter.
"Nick?"
She broke his concentration. He singled the letter out, put it in his pocket, and set the rest back onto his desk. "Ah, well, w-why don't you call up my apartment and have Cameron come over? You two could talk Pink Princess and Steel Samurai."
He watched her stomp her foot and slouch her shoulders. He hated seeing her become this way.
"Nick, I came back to spend time with my friends. You included!"
"Well…It never hurts to make new friends, Maya." He saw the scorn in her eyes and he tried a different tactic, "…He has trading cards."
All too suddenly, he saw her resilience take effect, a bright smile coating her face. "What? Trading cards?"
"Yeah," he nodded, "in two binders that look ten inches thick."
"What!? That's insane!"
"He showed them to me."
She stared at him, skeptically, and then her eyes trailed to the phone, an unmistakable desire becoming apparent through her twitching lips. Phoenix wanted to sneer. There were many ways to please this girl, even if only temporary. He felt bad, but he just had to find the man who was sending him the letters. And besides, Cameron did have two ten-inch binders back at the apartment.
"All right!" she thrust her fists into the air, elated, and bounded towards the phone. "Think he'll come down?"
"For a fan? Absolutely."
"What about trade? Think he'll trade?"
Phoenix's face was turned towards the unopened letter that he knew was another threat from the mysterious stalker. His fingers were trembling, the thought of opening it frightening him for some strange reason. "Without a doubt."
While her attention was drawn, he slowly padded back towards the door leading to the front room, pulling the letter out of his pocket with care. He could hear her jittery voice on the phone, most of the words incomprehensible as she spoke them faster than he could hear them. But as long as she was happy, he could get back to the matters at hand.
When he got outside the office, he had already torn the top off of the envelope and was busy fumbling with unfolding the letter. Inside, the big, black font caught his attention:
WhOsE cOmFoRt Do YoU sEeK, nOw?
--
Detective Gumshoe was on the phone when Phoenix arrived. When he saw the lawyer, Phoenix immediately noticed the drastic change in the older man's voice, growing softer and his hand was cupped over his mouth and the receiver, as though he were saying something too important for Phoenix to hear. The attorney pretended not to care. He was here on other business anyway.
He stopped short at Gumshoe's desk, eyeing the other man as he tapped the folder in his hand against his arm. He was patient enough, but secretly wondered what it was that the detective was talking about. Or who he's talking to, for that matter. A silence overcame the atmosphere, and before Gumshoe could talk back to the other man, Phoenix had cleared his throat, as though to remind the detective that he was still standing there.
Gumshoe looked up at him and then back at the phone, "Uh, can you hold on a second? Mr. Wright is here." He covered the receiver completely with the flat of one large hand and asked, "What is it, pal? This is long distance."
"Well…" Phoenix withdrew the envelope that he had borrowed from the evidence room the day before. He set it upon Gumshoe's desk, "I thought that you might want this back, first of all."
The detective gawked at it, as though he couldn't remember what it was. Instead, he said, "I didn't think you'd have it back so soon."
The lawyer shrugged. "I'm a man of my word, Detective. I just wanted to thank you for lending it to me. It was a tremendous help."
Gumshoe stuffed it under his desk, holding the phone in one hand. "I'm happy to hear that. You must've been up all night looking through it to find what you wanted so fast."
Phoenix whistled, "You bet."
"Did you find the name of the guy you were looking for?"
All right, here it is. Just lay it to him straight. Or…not so straight…He never does well with complete answers. "Ah…not quite. I was wondering if I could have just a little more help from you."
Gumshoe frowned and his eyelids half curtained his rankled orbs. Phoenix wanted to cringe. He knew that he had been asking the older man a lot as of lately, and that most of his wants fell into the line of costing the good man his job. But if it had been Edgeworth, he would've been at his beck and call. Where's the justice?
"What…pal?" The last word was said through gritted teeth. I'm surprised he's caught on to detect when a bad thing is coming his way. I need to give him more credit.
"Ah…nothing too serious this time. I just…need to see…the criminal records at least to five years back. Ya know…" he shrugged his shoulders again, as though to show that the request was trivial, "…to find the name of this guy that I found."
He watched as Gumshoe's shoulders arched back, and he craned his neck more sharply to stare Phoenix squarely in the eyes. When he got this way, the lawyer knew all too well that it was time to make up more excuses. He forced a grin and waved the article that he had printed off the computer last night in the detective's face.
"What? Don't look at me like that! I have proof!" He pointed a finger at the inkblot on the page. "See? This guy, right here—the one with all the tattoos down his neck."
"I see what that is, pal." Either Gumshoe is getting wiser, or he really knows when he's become someone's desk jockey. "But let me ask you something…" Setting the phone aside, the detective leaned forward across his desk so that he was only several inches away from Phoenix's face, though still not quite eye level with him. "Do you realize that anything that comes out of there is considered irrelevant, pal? I mean…going through the records in the first place without a real cause is—"
"Detective Gumshoe," Phoenix's tone was just as steady as the older man's, his eyes exhibiting no signs of deception. He was as serious as Edgeworth had once been. And that's a feat! "Did I once ask you to search for this man for me?" Gumshoe was silent at first, and the lawyer could tell that the clockwork in his brain had begun to cycle…very carefully, he would say. While his mind was at work, his mouth was gaping, struggling to find something—anything—to say. "All I have asked for are some documents and fingerprints. Nothing too exhausting, I hope. I don't really want to get the authorities involved with this guy; I just want to talk to him." His voice dropped to a whisper, "Okay?"
Frowning, Gumshoe finally stopped thinking altogether, his attention focused solely on Phoenix, his eyes beady and thin. The creases under them showed strain as they scrunched up together to meet his lower lid. Even the corner of his mouth had begun to twitch, and there was so much tension in his hands, veins were surfacing and showing much more color.
"You have…a way with words. Guess that that's why you're the lawyer, pal." He stepped back, taking the phone in his hand, and erected himself completely upright. His attention turned momentarily to the person he was speaking to, "Hey, I'll be right back. Just gotta get him some records is all." A few more words were exchanged before he gave a single nod, set the phone back onto his desk, and walked into the back.
That wasn't…as hard as I expected…sort of. Giving a low whistle, Phoenix's eyes vacillated between the phone on the desk and the door leading into the backroom. Phone on desk…Backroom…Phone on desk… His attention was drawn to the lone phone a moment longer. Just who is he talking to? I mean, I don't mean to be nosy or anything, but his voice got really low—and quick, too—when I came in.
His eyebrow cocked, skirting his hairline as he realized something else. And he mentioned me. If it was someone of little importance, he wouldn't have used my name. "A friend is here," would have been more appropriate. That's…very odd. And he remembered my name…that's even more peculiar. I thought he'd never get it.
Phoenix's curiosity was driving at him more and more as his eyes burned into the silhouette of that phone. He didn't know why, exactly. It has to be because I'm so paranoid about this guy. And maybe it's not so odd that he used my name in the first place. After all, I am somewhat of a popular defense attorney…maybe…Something like that. But that's not the point. The point is, he could be talking to anyone on that phone. Like…Gant. Immediately afterwards, Phoenix frowned. Now why the heck was he first to mind?
"Ya better be glad I didn't put this away yet!" came the deep voice of an irate detective. "I was still using this to wrap up the old case!"
"That sure didn't take long," Phoenix remarked as Gumshoe came back to the desk.
"Like I already said, pal, this was lying out in the open, and I'm on the phone—long distance, if you recall—and I can't afford to keep them waiting." The detective handed him the thick, worn down book, "Here ya go."
"Thanks," the attorney replied, grunting slightly as the weight of the book put strain on his hand. He had to grab the edge of the book with his other.
"Now, make sure no one sees you with that. Oh, and make your research snappy. No telling when I'll need that back."
"You got it, Chief," Phoenix replied, less than enthusiastic about being rushed. He ignored Gumshoe when he remarked something about 'not being the Chief' and to 'get your ears cleaned.' …Something along the lines to that effect.
On the next vacant desk nearby, Phoenix sprawled the book open, his eyes welcomed to sights of unhappy criminals, holding black plates coated with white numbers. Underneath were their names and charges. I really don't have any clues to go by, here… He looked to the picture he had in his hand. Well…except for this. Not like it's helpful, though. I could be skimming through this book for hours.
To make matters worse, it was a criminal record book dated some years back and to regions that spread at least twenty miles from the city, and probably more. Phoenix was uncertain that this was even worth it.
No, no! Think positive! Have to! If I don't, then what hope do I have of stopping these letters?
Flicking his wrist in a repeated motion, he threw the pages across the binding, looking at every set of photos lined on the pages. None matched on the first ten pages, or the next fifteen after that. Gritting his teeth, Phoenix continued to search. Every so often, when his mind wasn't spacing out, he would catch lowly muttered words uttered by Detective Gumshoe, who still was using his hand to cup his mouth and the receiver of the phone.
Paranoid official. Have to call them as I see them. He gave a small chuckle at the thought. Still, nevertheless, he wanted to know what could be so important, that it could not be heard by anyone. He caught a few words and phrases, some that seemed safer to be said aloud in public.
"You're in town? Are you coming by? I'll set up a lunch date so that we can talk…" were often the "innocent" sentences that were allowed to slip by during the conversation, and it seemed to pique Phoenix's interest even more. No, stay focused on the book! He's…probably talking to his dear old granny, anyway.
He forced his hand to flip through several more pages until he realized that he was no longer paying attention to the matter at hand. Gah! Wright! Keep your eyes on the book, you spying dog! …Page thirty-eight? That may be too far into it. He used one hand to keep his current place, while using the other to flip backwards, eyes vacillating back and forth across the pages. After a minute or two, he found himself staring at his watch.
Phoenix was unsuccessful in finding anything helpful, so he turned back to page thirty-eight, a slight wave of irritation running over him. He could still hear Gumshoe mumbling and, though he wasn't trying to eavesdrop, he picked up some other smaller words—ones that, this time, the attorney could not place into context.
"Awhile…Forgotten…A shock…"
Turn to the next page. Turn to the next page… He forced himself to stare at the article in his hand, the image of a murderous looking man staring back at him. Phoenix clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, absorbing every line and detail in the photo. This man…is he really the guy that's been sending me those terrible letters? If it is, what am I going to say when I see him? Asking him to just simply "stop" is out of the question it seems.
Looking at the top corner of the next two pages, Phoenix realized that he had moved from the city to ten miles south. His eyes wandered back to the article for a brief second and then back to the book. The same man was staring back at him. …I-Is it…? A sudden string of clicks began to go off in his head, like dominoes, until he was able to convince himself that the photo in the article had not jumped off from the paper…
…but that he had found a match in the criminal records.
The same beady eyes, the same crooked nose, the same tattoos and military haircut…No doubt, this man was the one. Phoenix immediately traced his eyes down to the small scribble located underneath the photo.
Rippon, James…Arrested for grand theft auto. Released on 5/7/16. …Wait…Rippon? I saw that name on the evidence found in Ward's room! Gaping, Phoenix jerked his attention back to the distracted Detective Gumshoe. The same evidence that I just handed back to him! …I should've known that it would've been a name. Just like that time on Mia's reports…
"Detective!" Phoenix called out. "May I borrow a phonebook, by any chance?"
"What, pal? First the criminal records, and now a phonebook? Don't you know how much trouble you're gonna get me—"
"Detective, it's just a phonebook."
Gumshoe looked from Phoenix to the phone in his hand, as though uncertain of himself. When his eyes drifted back to the younger man, he was frowning. "I swear, you're just gonna…" But he had already set the phone down and was scrounging under his desk for a phonebook. He was only gone a second before reemerging with a rather thick and beaten up phonebook. "Here, pal. But I swear that this is it. I'm gonna get fired because of you."
"And you'll go down an honorable man," Phoenix forced a grin.
Gumshoe made a face. "Bah," and returned to his phone call.
Phoenix was still smiling in the detective's direction when he set the phonebook beside the criminal records and opened it. Taking a large portion of the pages in one hand, he threw them over the binding, skipping ahead to the R's. Let's see…Riopel…Riordan…Rios…Ripley…Ripoli…Ripple…Rippon…There we go. There were three Rippons in the phonebook, and only two with addresses beside them. He Phoenix held his breath, praying that James Rippon was one of the two. It should be easier to find a man than this, but I'm stuck searching through a phonebook. How unlucky.
He traced one finger down to see the first Rippon D and F, 464 Stin Lane. That's out of the city. Besides, I don't think that that's him. The next one was Rippon H, but no address was given. …I'll hope that that isn't him. Last chance, Wright. Taking in a deep breath, he brought his finger down to see the last one: Rippon, 214 Gourd Lake.
Phoenix didn't quite know what to say. It's either him or it isn't. I doubt the other two are. He stayed that way for quite some time, unmoving. There were no initials, though he half-wished that there was. Not to mention, the address Gourd Lake had caught him off guard as well. He blinked several times, staring at the phonebook. I have a choice to make now. I could either take the chance that it's him, or close up the book right now and forget I ever came down here. The decision wasn't that hard. The heavy letters in his pocket were enough to make up his mind.
Good thing I have a pen in my jacket. I'm not sure how Gumshoe would react if I asked him for that. He leaned over the phonebook, shadowing the page, and carefully wrote the address down in blue ink across the flat of his right hand. Paper, unfortunately, is one thing I don't have. Ah, but I'll take the chances of ink poisoning…if it means finding out this guy's intentions, that is…
Closing up the phonebook, he turned to Detective Gumshoe's desk, holding out the book. "Thanks, Detective, I have all the information I need."
For some reason, Gumshoe didn't bother to shield the receiver this time. "Hey! That's my line!"
When the detective didn't take it fast enough, Phoenix took to setting it on the wooden desk. "I found an address, too, so you won't have to worry about me asking for anything more from you."
"That's…nice…" Gumshoe watched Phoenix's hurried motions in giving back the book, recapping his pen and shoving it into his pocket, and then spinning around on his back foot, prepared to leave. "Say…"
"Thanks for all your help, Detective," Phoenix said, back turned. "I'll be off to find him now. If something happens, I just want you to know that none of this is your fault."
"Huh? Wait a minute, what do you mean 'if something happens,' pal?"
"But Maya is in town, Detective. If she doesn't hear from me and calls you, will you take care of the office in my place?" Phoenix was anything but apprehensive, as though he believed that nothing was going to go wrong or, perhaps, he did not want to worry anyone else. Deep down, even he wasn't sure which it was.
"Sure…wait…Wait a minute!"
But Phoenix was already moving towards the door. Before he left, however, he could've sworn that he heard someone from far off ask, "Now, what was that about?"
--
It was almost two forty-five by the time Phoenix was able to successfully leave the precincts, catch a taxi, and ride through the horrendous traffic up to Gourd Lake. He shivered from the wind and hugged himself for a moment before proceeding through the brick wall of the Nature Park. The leaves on all of the tall, serpentine-like trees had changed from their natural rich green to various colors of brown, yellow, and orange. Most had fallen from the tiny limbs above, leaving the trees naked with their spreading branches, almost like twiggy arms from a small person. The leaves had created rather large piles, littering the concrete path through the park, and they crunched under Phoenix's feet as he moved across them.
Even the bushes that lined the trees had already gone into hibernation, leaving everything but a single green thistle, which were scattered about the baseline of the plants. The wind had blown some into the path, where they intertwined with the dancing leaves in the sky. Further down the walkway, underneath a dull colored street lamp, a trashcan had been tipped over (Phoenix figured that it was probably the wind's doing), and was rolling about. Luckily, before it had fallen, all of the trash inside had already been taken away. He could hear birds singing in the treetops, some smaller ones flying overhead.
His eyes wandered to the sky, where several rows of thick, somber colored clouds had rolled in. No wonder it's so cold. He was hugging his body again when he arrived at the Gourd Lake Public Beach, immediately regretting not having brought his coat. His fingers had drained to white, with tiny red spots on the palm of his hands. Bringing them to cup his mouth, he blew into the hole of his fists in a futile attempt to warm them. Realizing his failing, he tried to distract himself with the environment. He turned towards the abandoned hotdog stand where Larry had once worked. The sign that used to read "Samurai Dogs" was now gone, and nothing had been left in its place.
The lineup of blue, plastic benches were cracking under the cruelty of the weather and wind. At first, Phoenix thought about sitting down for a moment to warm himself, but inwardly scolded himself at the discrepancy of the matter, knowing that he would become even colder if he stopped for a break. He growled, forcing himself to look at something other than the inviting benches. He caught sight of the signpost, instead. Left…Boat Docks. Right…Exit. Somehow, I already knew that. Must've been with the case involving Edgewo--
He stopped himself in mid-thought, becoming aware that he was growing even more depressed. Phoenix sighed, turned his head away, and saw another trashcan underneath a bare tree. This time, however, the can had been turned upside down where brown, yellow, and orange leaves gathered around it. He quirked an eyebrow, confused to see such an awkward scene. Well…whatever. I don't have time to be sightseeing anyway.
Phoenix turned right, still hugging himself, and marched through the woods. The wind was still upbeat, sending in sequences of waves from out on the lake, crashing against the shoreline more violently every time. He had to retreat backwards along higher ground the further he continued around the lake because there were no guardrails. His irritation grew when his feet reached wet sand and he felt himself sinking further and further into the earth, making it almost impossible to walk. It took some time and his shoes were full of dirt, but he was able to pull himself out of the mess and fall back to more solid footing. Then, he tripped over a series of rocks, nearly causing him to fall.
After some time, he was able to stand upright and walk like a man instead of a limping animal. Taking a deep breath to relax, he was surprised to catch a variety of scents, some from the trees and other plants around him, others were chimney smoke from houses around the area, and he could also catch the scent of the water, plants, algae, and fish all combined.
Phoenix swam through tall, dry blades of grass, and stopped twice to pull off his shoes and dig out the sand from within them. Leaning against a tree, his eyes traced the silhouettes of several bare trees, twisted awry and looking much more foreboding without the leaves to attenuate how malicious they looked in the nude. He pushed himself away quickly and began again, lifting his legs high across the flatlands around the lake. Once, he had to divert from the lake because the plants and trees had been huddled together too closely for him to continue past them and hug the lake's shore. Phoenix miserably turned again, walking an unbroken road.
His breathing grew heavy, and his huffs were followed by physical strain from aching legs and a sore back. Even his cheeks had grown flustered, and he wasn't sure if it had been caused by the cold air clashing with the warmth from his body, or if it was from the nervousness he felt every time he took a step closer to Rippon's house. Either way, it had triggered his face to brutally itch and he found himself scratching for several minutes on end. After a while, his legs became numb, tingling with the same sensation from his reddened cheeks. It's the cold, he assured himself. It's got to be the cold. Inattentively, he had started to rub his hands together until they got too hot and he stuffed them into his pockets. I suppose it's a combination of the water and the enclosing trees. It's keeping the cold air in. Not to mention, the wind doesn't help the situation.
Before long, Phoenix realized that he was lost in the woods, the lake far from his sight. He halted in his steps, anger rising slightly, and he stared at his right palm, as though the blue directions written there would tell him where to go next. Fat chance!
"This sucks. How can this guy live all the way out here, anyway?" Shifting one side of his lip upwards into a crooked smirk, he shook his head and sighed, "I don't believe this."
He noticed that the chirping of the birds had grown far and few in between. It worried him slightly and he wondered if it wouldn't be best to just go back. And allow this nutcase to continue to send threatening letters? Get real, Wright!
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of crunching leaves and breaking twigs behind him, and Phoenix spun on his back foot to stare at the approaching figure behind him, the sight of rustling bushes and snapping limbs coming into his eyesight. The lawyer held his breath as the shadow began to shift into a various blend of colors, and the whimsical height appearing on the face of the trees began to shrink until a tiny boy came trudging up to him, holding the straps of his backpack with both hands.
Phoenix smiled as he realized that he recognized a familiar face, although it was the last person he expected to see.
"Cody Hackins, how happy I am to see you."
The young boy took a small hand and used it as a visor above the lining of his eyebrows. Puckering his lips, Cody leaned forward to see who was speaking to him. "Who's that? You a stalker or something?"
"No," Phoenix replied as Cody moved closer, removing his hand from his head. "It's me, Phoenix. You know…Phoenix Wright? From the…uh…incident…with the Steel Samurai."
"Huh? Pops?" When Cody stopped, the attorney could tell that he was taking a moment to catch up on his words. With a quick nod, the boy said, "Ohhhhhhh yeeeaaaahhh, I remember you now. You were with that pretty lady." He immediately began to look around, sidestepping, and asked, "Say, Pops, where is she, anyway?"
"Huh?" Suddenly, it hit him. "Oh, right. Mia. She…uh…She's back at the office."
The boy seemed crestfallen. His eyes drooped and his head lowered to meet the base of his neck as he sniffled. "Oh."
"Well…" Gotta cheer him up, I guess… "She says 'hi,' though."
He waited for a moment, waiting to catch any reaction from the young boy, and was almost disappointed when he saw nothing. After a while, though his head was still lowered in despair, Cody said, "Yeah, tell her I said 'hi,' too."
Phoenix couldn't understand his melancholy disposition, but, nevertheless, shrugged it off. "Say, Cody, what are you doing so far out here? It's a long way from Global Studios, isn't it?"
As resilient as the lawyer expected him to be, Cody looked at him, back straight, and placed his tiny balled fists on his hips. "Who? Me? I have a friend out here that trades cards with me. I was just leaving his place when I ran into you."
"Oh?" All of a sudden, an idea hit Phoenix. "Hey, do you think you know this place well enough to give directions?" He stooped down onto one knee, becoming eyelevel with the little boy. "I'm trying to find this place." He held his palm out for Cody to see, who leaned forward to read the chicken scratches on Phoenix's hand.
He mumbled something for a minute, as though trying to remember it if he spoke it aloud to himself, and then laughed, "Oh yeah, I know where this place is. It's right next to my other friend's house." The attorney frowned. My, I wasn't aware that so many people lived out near Gourd Lake. Cody looked back up at him, a spiteful look upon his tiny face, scrunching his little features. "The guy's a real jerk. Yells at us every time he sees us."
"Him?" This just might be the guy… "Cody, where does he live?"
Cody blinked, his face becoming a blank slate, and Phoenix wondered if he had just asked a stupid question.
Indeed, he had.
"Duh, Pops! What kind of society do you think we live in!? I give you something, you give me something. That's how it works."
…I was afraid of this… "You're saying…trade?"
"Of course!"
Phoenix sighed, repressing an additional scowl as he reached into his pocket for his black, leather wallet. Guess it's a good thing that Maya got me hooked on this. If she hadn't, I wouldn't be able to negotiate with little punks like Cody. He withdrew the small stack of about thirty cards and fanned them out the best he could for the younger boy to see. Cody protested.
"Ch. Come on, Pops, you're behind the times! These are Steel Samurai cards; the stores have Pink Princess now."
Phoenix frowned. "What? You're telling me that just because they're last season, you won't trade with me? I remember a time when the Steel Samurai was your biggest hero."
Rubbing the bottom of his nose, Cody snickered, "He still is. All right, Pops, show me what you've got." Finally, some cooperation!
Cody delicately took the cards into his tiny hands, skimming through them. Phoenix was about to ask if he could really see them with so much flippant attention towards them, but he was cut off when the boy abruptly thrust the cards back toward th lawyer's chest.
"Pops, I got all your cards and duplicates and triplicates of some, too."
Feeling himself becoming bested by an eight year old, the attorney shoved the cards back into the boy's direction, his voice dripping with irritation, "Come on, kid, these are all I have!"
Cody took them back without another word, swiftly flipping through them again. His eyes moved up and down from Phoenix to the cards, and the lawyer watched as his little mouth curled into a sadistic grin, sending shivers up the older man's spine.
"All right, Pops, I'll trade with you anyway. I see you have a holographic promo in here."
"Really?" Phoenix beamed, exuberant that he was finally getting somewhere. "That must be worth something then, right?"
"I have four of them already."
Another wave of silence passed between them and Phoenix was losing his patience. Cody still held the cards in his hands, nonchalant to the lawyer's wicked stare. I know from experience how hard it is to intimidate this kid. I'm wasting my time. Cody returned his gaze to the stack, ruffling through them for a third time.
"Okay, tell you what. I'll trade you your holographic promo for my information. You're getting cheated, but if you don't want to trade for cards anyway, then it might be the only deal you're getting."
"That's fine," Phoenix agreed. "So go ahead and take that."
As fast as the words had left the attorney's mouth, the boy had snatched the card from the deck, held it up to his face, twirled it about with a smile, and shoved it into his pocket. Phoenix's mouth hung open, eyes wide when he saw which card it had been that the boy took. There was a glowing picture of an epic duel between the Steel Samurai and the Evil Magistrate—a card that the usually uninterested lawyer had favored most dearly. I liked that card! Why did it have to be that card!?
The boy must've seen the disapproving stare from Phoenix because he asked, "What, Pops? There a problem?"
Hastily, the older man pointed a finger to the boy's pocket, "T-That one?"
"Yeah, of course that one. That's the holographic card."
Phoenix took the cards back from the boy and stuffed them into his pocket, disappointed, but decided not to argue any longer. "Okay, fine. Now it's your turn." Once he had put the wallet back into his pocket, he held out his hand again, "Where does this guy live?"
Cody looked at the address for a second time, folding his arms over his chest. "From here you're going to take that small path over there…" he uncrossed his arms for a moment to point a tiny finger to a well hidden path to Phoenix's left. "Continue up along the path until you see the lake again. Once you do, make an immediate left around the corner and head straight back. His stupid, little house is pushed further behind the trees."
Phoenix couldn't believe that he was only talking to an eight year old boy. He really does have some brains for being such a young brat. I don't know whether to spank or applaud him. "Really? That's all?"
"Yup," Cody nodded several times. "That's all. Think you can remember that, Pops, or should I repeat it?"
…Spank him. It's for the best. The attorney replied, "No, I think I can remember that just fine."
"Okay." Cody straightened himself, ready to leave. "Nice doing business with you, Pops," he said and he walked around Phoenix, past the path that he was told to take.
"Yeah…sure…" He watched as the boy walked away, disappearing behind a heavy thicket of bushes and trees, the rustling echoing behind him steadily dissipating. "…No problem."
There was a pregnant pause for quite some time after that, leaving the spiky haired man to do nothing more but stare at the path he was to walk. After several minutes, he found himself edging closer and closer towards the path, his feet moving in slow shuffles at first. What am I afraid of? I got directions to this guy's place; I should be happy that I can finally see if this is the man who has been sending me these letters or not.
With that thought in mind, his pace quickened, slightly more relieved that he was finally on a treaded path rather than an uncharted one. He didn't have to walk far until he saw the corner of the steaming lake, rippled faintly by the slowing wind. He bit down on his tongue, looking to the right where he saw sparsely grown trees leaving gaping holes in between, exposing blurry bushes and forestry beyond that. Taking a deep breath, he sluggishly made his way towards it, almost slouched over. I guess…it's beyond that. For some reason, I don't feel as enthusiastic about this anymore.
His apprehension exacerbated when even thicker clouds from above rolled in, hiding the sun, and covering the sky with a dark, solemn overcast. Phoenix's eyes shifted back and forth, nervously, as the trees that towered over him seemed to close in around him. The birds had altogether disappeared and a single chirp was far from his ears. I wonder if it's going to rain.
Suddenly, his ears perked up at the sound of a distant voice, talking in undulating volumes that were carried off by the wind. Feeling more confident, he walked further into the woods, creeping behind thicker trees that he found, until he saw a small plume of smoke rising into the sky. When he scrutinized further, he realized that the smoke was coming from a dulled colored chimney, most of its bricks either gone or crumbling with time. His eyes trailed down to a tin roof, dented and covered with leaves and twigs. Attached to the cheap looking roof was an old, wooden house, strangled by tall weeds and littered with useless garbage, such as tire rims, broken chairs, and rusted metal crates.
The porch was falling apart and some boards had to be propped up with cans or tied together by thinning rope. The paint on the door had almost all chipped away and the window to its nearest left had been busted out. A piece of plastic had been taped around it to keep the wind from coming in. One step leading up to the porch had collapsed, and the owner hadn't seemed to care about replacing it. Or getting rid of the broken step for that matter.
Phoenix's attention was brought back to the voice coming from the direction of the house. It had grown louder by the time he arrived and he watched as a large silhouette of a man paced back and forth, holding something to his ear. It took a moment to realize that it was a phone, but the attorney was more concentrated on the physique of the man, along with his near bald head and strange array of tattoos. His mind wheeled in reverse back to the picture and his hand slowly crept to his pocket to dig it out.
He was extremely disappointed when he found nothing inside. Huh? Shoot! I think I left it back in the criminal records book. Ah man…Oh well. My memory serves as good enough evidence that gives me reason to believe that this guy may be the man I saw in that photo. Holding a hand above his brows, Phoenix silently nodded to himself. Wow…it really is him! What luck! …Well…I don't know if that's a good or bad thing… Phoenix was hurled back into reality when he saw the man walk back inside of his house, the steel screen door slamming shut behind him.
He waited a moment, jaw slightly agape, and watched the motionless door. Where did he go? I don't even see him in there. He jolted back when he saw the door open again and the man step outside, pulling his arm through a red, hooded jacket. Jumping down the steps, he began on a walk towards Phoenix, who was sweating bullets at the time, but his eyes seemed to be focused elsewhere.
Horrified, the attorney skirted behind the tree, clawing at it for support as the man passed. He dared to peek over the side of it for just a moment before realizing for sure that the one walking towards the shore of the lake was indeed James Rippon. Rippon, swinging his arms as he plodded up the tiny hill and past the pitiful sight of small trees, began to whistle to a tune that Phoenix recognized as "The House of the Rising Sun." That's a…foreboding song…
Shivering, the attorney made the split second decision to follow the suspicious looking man, creeping behind and feeling instantly foolish as though he were poorly imitating a Mission Impossible movie. He nearly hopped from tree to tree, keeping a close eye on the man as he maneuvered back around the lake, whistling. He must not suspect that he's being followed. I wonder what he's up to anyway.
Tiptoeing across an ample pile of leaves, Phoenix scrambled up one side of a hill, watching as Rippon continued along the path, carelessly stepping on broken twigs and kicking up dirt as he walked. The lawyer dared to hold his breath, waiting for the man to increase the distance between them before making a mad dash from one tree to the next, nearly sliding past it and into a bush.
Rippon didn't notice as he quickened his pace, arriving outside of the Gourd Lake Woods and began his trip towards the public beach. Phoenix, still staggering behind, was so intent on following the man as quietly and carefully as he could, he did not keep an eye on his surroundings, resulting in often tripping over rocks or sticking his legs into mud. By the time he had successfully caught up to the man on the path towards the entrance, he was amazed that his clothes were still in one piece. Or, more realistically, that this guy hasn't noticed I've been following him.
Stooping over to wipe the mud from off of his pants, Phoenix looked up to see an awaiting black Sedan on the front curb along a red line where it clearly stated "No Parking." Rippon climbed in on the passenger's side, pulled the door shut, and the car was off.
Oh cra— "Hey!" Phoenix accelerated his sluggish walk, darting out into the street and waving at the cars, hoping to spot a taxi. I can't let him get away! "Taxi! Taxi—!" A string of honks erupted into Phoenix's ears before he quickly hopped back onto the curb and out of the reach of other cars. "…Probably a bad move…"
Another honk caused him to turn and a yellow cab rolled up to the curb and the bay window rolled down. An ugly looking man with a large mole on the right side of his cheek and a cigar hanging out of his mouth stared at Phoenix. "What? You nuts? There are better ways of calling a taxi than that, bub."
"S-Sorry," Phoenix apologized, bowing his head. "Please, can you help me? I want you to follow that black Sedan." He was already forcing the door open and had seated himself in the passenger's seat by the time he got around to pointing down the street where the black vehicle had disappeared.
The cab driver pulled the car out of park. "Guess I don't have a choice. Okay, I'll follow it." As the car pushed itself back onto the road, he asked, "What? Your girlfriend in it?" With a snicker, he added, "You two have a fight?"
At first, Phoenix was about to object, but thought that an excuse like that would prove to get him better service than if he said he was stalking someone. Clearing his throat and using a dirty hand to brush the loose strands of hair from his eyes, he responded, "Uh-huh. Funny how you'd know that."
"Ha!" The cab driver swerved into the next lane, clicking over his blinker, "I know everything, bub. People always spilling their life stories to us and all…You'd feel sorry for us."
Phoenix had only caught part of what the man said, his attention focused more on the man in the black Sedan and he silently prayed that they would successfully catch up to him. Inattentively, he had begun to drum his fingers on the armrest of the cab and lowly hum to a nonsensical tune. He didn't even notice when the cab driver turned to give him an awkward stare; his eyes were glued solely onto the automobile, his forehead sweating.
"What? You afraid that your girl is gonna run off? With another man, maybe?"
"Yeah, yeah," the lawyer absentmindedly agreed, his eyes never once leaving the little dot on the horizon. "J-Just…make sure you stay on that vehicle. But not too close, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," the driver said, changing lanes again and turning at the intersection before the light changed to red. "Geez…lovebirds…Involve us cabdrivers like we don't have anything better to do with our time…"
Hey, you're the one sitting there listening to them. Don't pretend that you're not interested. Five minutes down the road, Phoenix could feel his stomach churn. The traffic was building up and the congestion had caused the car to move from a slow crawl to a complete stop. Up ahead, he could see the entrance way into the docks—a popular tourist attraction that featured boat rides and luxurious cruises.
The black sedan had cornered off, rolling up over a curb at the end of a street and creeping onto the next. Squinting his eyes, he could see James Rippon jump out of the car, slam the door shut behind him, and begin walking down the busy street.
"Excuse me," Phoenix fished out his wallet, retrieved a ten, and tossed it into the driver's lap. "This is my stop."
"What? Hey, what's the hurry?"
The lawyer had already pried the door open, stepped out into the middle of the lane, and jogged around the back of the cab. Several speeding cars honked at him from the other lane as he attempted to cross, resulting in a hop back to the safety of his own lane. He frowned, watching as Rippon continued down the street unsuspectingly, and his lips curled into a sneer. There's no way I'm letting him out of my sight.
Chancing it, he tore across the street when the traffic cleared and jumped onto the sidewalk, knocking down an old woman carrying a large grocery bag.
"Hey!"
"Sorry!" Phoenix called back as he darted down the street, feeling guilty that he had plowed the woman down, her groceries scattered all over the sidewalk, but he could not stop. He looked back once to see her in a crumpled heap on the ground with several pedestrians stooped low, helping her up, and it made him feel slightly better.
"Excuse me, pardon me," he muttered as he pushed himself past other people who were traveling at a slower pace than he. Some he had to push clear out of the way, though he felt apologetic in doing so, but, having saved more time, he could see Rippon across the second street, talking in a telephone booth.
When he reached the crosswalk, Phoenix did not stop; instead, he hurled himself out into oncoming traffic. He was rewarded for his brashness with several honks from angry drivers who had successfully managed to swerve in time to miss him. He shyly waved at them, forcing a grin, and attempted to ignore all of the people who were staring at him as he ran by. Sorry, sorry, sorry! I don't mean to cause such a hassle, but he's right there!
His brows knitted together as he saw the other man twirl the cord in between his fingers, talking quickly into the phone. Rippon's eyes kept darting around, as though paranoid that someone could see him. Phoenix had begun to slow as he neared the booth, watching James Rippon with such intensity. He was talking to someone back at the house. Who could he be talking to now?
Now moving leisurely down the sidewalk, face flustered from having run so fast, Phoenix took to sitting on a bench for a moment or two, waiting for the other man to leave the booth and find out what he was up to. Given the time to breath, the attorney was also granted the opportunity to reflect on the mess that he had just caused seconds ago. Another wave of shame washed over him and it caused him to look down towards the ground.
It wasn't much longer after that until he could hear the scraping of heavy doors and he looked up, watching as Rippon stepped outside the booth and started on a quick walk down towards the docks. Trepidation grabbed Phoenix from behind, but, nevertheless, he pushed himself forward.
It was easy, so to speak, for the next ten minutes, until his legs began to grow sore from all the walking. He glanced once at his watch to see the time. Four o' clock. It's getting late. Have I really been watching for this guy for that long? A sudden impulse made him glance up. They had well come into the docks, though the sky was still dismal and the wind was still heavy.
From some distance away, Phoenix could see a set of bleachers with a man garbed in a long, black trench coat sitting at the far left, on the very top. Rippon was climbing the benches. The lawyer watched as he sat down beside the man, mumbling something low and inaudible. Phoenix sighed and sat down on a lone stool overlooking the bay. He stared at Rippon for quite some time, chewing on his bottom lip. Who is that man? I wonder what they're talking about…
Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty. Phoenix grew bored of giving surveillance to the men and had turned his attention temporarily to the skate park far behind the bleachers. There were several teenagers hanging there, the sounds of rushing wheels resounding in the bowl shaped dome as they performed tricks and miraculous stunts. The lawyer smirked, his mind drifting away from his troubles for the moment.
It had been a while since he had gone to the docks. He realized he hadn't had much time since the Apartment Complex Case began. It made him shudder at the thought. Then his mind reeled back to Rippon. He was depressed again. Until I resolve this issue, I'll have nothing to be happy about. My life is on the line, though I'm not quite sure what the best way to go about this is.
Then there was a shuffle. Phoenix's eyes jolted back to Rippon, who was leaving the bleachers and walking back towards the road. The lawyer jumped to his feet and waited for the other man to gain some length between them before pursuing him again. Here we go… he thought as he started after Rippon, nervously following him along the other side of the docks.
Once, he had gone inside of a bank to withdraw money from the machine located on the far corner of the building. Phoenix waited outside near the door, glancing inside every so often to see where exactly Rippon was. The lawyer could see him stash a large stack of money into his pocket. It's probably stolen…or dirty money. Something like that.
After that, he went to use another phone booth, in which Phoenix hid around the corner, peeking around to see the man through the glass. Rippon was waving his arms around and appeared to be shouting. Evidently, something was getting ready to go down. A minute or two later, he slammed the phone onto the receiver and stepped outside the booth, walking down the road again. Phoenix followed.
They were back on the side of the dock near the large body of water. Rippon crossed over to a burger joint, which was across a vacant street that was meant only for pedestrians. Phoenix was left next to the railing that oversaw the large lake from below. His eyes turned to the burger place and he assumed that the man had stopped in there to eat and not for some illegal purpose…like robbing the place. Guess I have no choice but to wait.
His eyes wandered back to the form of Rippon, who was leaning against the counter where the smaller commodities were. He, too, was staring out at the nearly deserted dock, save the same skate park from earlier further up that had a gang of teenagers there. Suddenly, his gaze fell upon Phoenix, and the lawyer could feel a million knives stab him at once. He's looking! He's looking! What am I going to do? What? What!? …I know…I'll wave…He did just that. Forcing a smile and a meek wave towards the other man across the street, he hoped that the tension would alleviate itself. It didn't. He's not waving back. Actually…he's giving me a very…nasty glare. Shoot! Turn around, Wright! Turn around!
Jolting around and placing both hands on the wooden rail, Phoenix's teeth were chattering and it wasn't from the breeze coming off from the waters. Force yourself to look at something else, Wright. He probably just thinks you're a pedestrian. It's okay…really it is…Oh, look! Birds! They're circling the water above the rocks looking for fish to eat. No…no…not working. Uh…Oh! The kid at the skate park! He took a nasty fall there, didn't he? Um…Well…there's not much else to see out on this end except water…
Phoenix turned back around. Rippon was gone.
"That's…not good." His eyes wandered around the vicinity, aimlessly. "Maybe he went to use the bathrooms." Yeah, right. He still couldn't find Rippon. His heartbeat was becoming more irregular. A cold chill fed its way up his spine. Five minutes went by and still no Rippon. I didn't lose him, did I? Did he just wander off?
Maybe then that would be a good thing. At least…there would be no suspicion.
I'll look again in a moment…just to be safe. Phoenix turned back around to stare at the calm waters. That was a close one, Wright. I thought for sure he knew you were following him. So, to keep safe for now, just keep staring at nothing. It really doesn't matter what…
"Just so long as he doesn't see me…" he mumbled.
"Too late."
The attorney froze. The second voice was not his own, nor was it one that he recognized. It was a deep, hoarse voice that belonged to, Phoenix surmised, a man of great stature and build.
The lawyer turned to look.
He was right.
"You've been following me all day, haven't you?" Phoenix had to crane his neck sharply upwards to stare at James Rippon. His first impulse was not a rational one, staggering backwards until his back abruptly met the wooden rail of the dock. The man seemed even more dangerous in person, his thick eyebrows narrowing so far, they seemed to curtain his steel colored eyes. His crooked nose twitched while his large nostrils flared. The tattoos on his face and neck extended all the way down his chest, broad shoulders, and thick arms.
Phoenix giggled like a schoolgirl, then immediately cursed himself for it. A…giggle? What the!?
"I…uh…What do you mean that I've been following you?"
"Don't play stupid with me, Porcupine." Rippon turned and forcefully spat onto the ground. His bloodshot eyes looked back at Phoenix. "I've watched you since we left Gourd Lake."
The attorney winced. Was I…not that careful?
"I know who you are," Rippon claimed. "You're the defense attorney who put my best friend and his cousin behind the slammer. For you to cross paths with me, I know it ain't no coincidence." His form seemed to loom even more over Phoenix, "Isn't that right, Porcupine?"
Trembling all over, the smaller man looked about himself, watching as his own shadow melded into the larger man's. "I…I uh…"
"So, what are ya doing here? You trying to pull the same gig on me now?"
"Gig? I…I don't know what you mean."
"What? You speak a different language?" Rippon cleared his throat. "Fine, I see we're gonna have problems. I don't like liars, Porcupine. I don't like 'em at all."
"Liars?" Phoenix nervously chuckled. "Who's lying?"
"You're stupid for coming after me." At the sound of a cocking pistol, Phoenix's eyes immediately turned downwards to see a large, black revolver in Rippon's hand. He twirled it effortlessly around his index finger, stepped back, and aimed it at the attorney's head. "However, with you out of the way, things will go much smoother for me."
"J-James Rippon…!" Phoenix started, his mouth running dry.
Rippon merely smiled. "I knew you knew who I was. Take care…Mr. Wright."
The shot followed instantly afterwards, exploding against Phoenix's ears like a volcano. He thought he screamed, but he was too busy pulling his head to his chest with his arms, protecting it as best he could. No…No…! I was…so close… Knees wobbling, he collapsed to the ground, a sudden dizziness overwhelming him.
Then it happened.
"Hey! You! I heard everything! We're taking you down to the precincts, now!"
There was a sudden shuffle, a loud clank, and various screaming. It took Phoenix a moment to realize that he had not been hit and that there were other people around him. Opening one eye and then the other, his head slowly removed itself from its protective place on his chest, looked down, and saw Rippon's gun lying by him. Jolting his gaze upwards, he watched as James Rippon was now being forced into custody by at least ten officers. Blinking, he forced himself to pull all of his swirling thoughts together.
Detective Gumshoe was right behind them, shouting orders. Phoenix watched him, flailing his arms and running around them. When the detective saw the younger man on the ground, arms up around his ears, he knelt down and placed a hand on the attorney's shoulder. Slowly, but surely, Phoenix gained enough confidence to release his grip. The tension began to fade in his arms as he lowered them to his side.
"Detective…Gumshoe?" he whispered. "What…What are you doing here?"
"You okay, pal? You would've been a goner had my man not shot the gun out of that guy's hand. What are you doing out in a place like this, anyway?"
"I…" Phoenix placed a hand over his chest, feeling his racing heart. Sweat was pouring down the side of his face. "I don't mean to look a gift horse in the mouth, Detective, but…wasn't it you who said that you weren't going to help me anymore?"
Gumshoe stiffened, his eyes darting back and forth. "I…I did say that…"
"But…?"
"But…someone asked me to help you. Told me not to let you out of my sight."
Phoenix's eyes widened. "Who? Maya?"
"No. Just…someone who knows you."
Knows me? What? "Detective…" His voice was stern, "Who was it?"
Gumshoe patted Phoenix's shoulder once. "You need to be more careful."
--
So, did I do better? No? Please review (without the flames).
(Gumshoe-sama sits back in his large, red, velvety chair, tapping a finger against his chin)
"I look dreadfully silly in that scene talking to (blank) on the phone, narrator. Most certainly not how I am in real life."
My apologies, Gumshoe-Sama.
"I will be expecting improvements."
(He snaps his fingers to prove a point. Behind him, a knight in shining armor rides by on a bright horse. Gumshoe-sama turns in his direction and makes a comment.)
"Oh, knight Butz is here. I wonder if he's here to kiss my ring."
(Indeed, knight Butz drops himself from off his horse and quickly walks up to Gumshoe-sama, clad in armor. He draws a sword.)
"I'm looking for Nick, good sir. Do you know where I might find him?"
(Gumshoe-sama leans back and holds out the hand in which he makes everyone kiss the ring.)
"Why, I know all, my child. But first, you must kiss the ring."
(Knight Butz lowers himself to one knee.)
"Of course, Gumshoe-sama."
…Amazing, isn't it?
ML