Roman Reigns smoothly stopped his Lincoln against the curb in front of a multi-story office building. "Regal's office in on the 7th floor. Suite 701."

Jon Moxley nodded. "This guy your attorney?"

"He was Dad's. I sorta inherited him." Roman gave Moxley a grin. "He's smart and good at what he does. And he was loyal to Dad to a fault."

"Loyal to you?"

Roman nodded. "I trust him."

Moxley stared at the building for a few seconds then nodded and opened the car door.

"Call me when you're done," Roman casually called after him.

Moxley silently nodded then got out of the car.

Roman watched his brother enter the building and sighed. It was never a good sign when Moxley stayed that calm for any length of time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Moxley silently rode the elevator to the 7th floor. He swayed from side to side, not liking the crowded elevator. He silently decided to take the stairs back down. Standing at the door, he stared at the lettering on the door. Regal Law Firm Then he took a deep breath and opened the door.

The receptionist took his name and invited him to sit. Instead, Moxley walked to one wall and studied the paintings. It gave him an opportunity to overhear the receptionist speak into her phone. But all he heard was "Mr. Moxley is here".

Seconds later, a petite blonde-haired women entered the reception area and smiled in his direction. "Mr. Moxley? I'm Alexa Bliss, Mr. Regal's legal assistant." She held out her hand in greeting.

Moxley gently took her hand, feeling like a giant looking down from his 6'4" height to her barely-just-over 5'0" height.

"If you'll follow me." She led him down a hallway past two conference rooms and a couple of offices with closed doors. As she approached an office door with William Regal's name on it, she looked over her shoulder. "Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Water? We've still got some pastries left over if you'd like some." She impishly grinned. "In fact, you'd be doing some of us a favor if you ate some. They're awfully good."

Moxley smiled in spite of himself. "Sorry I can't help you out. I just finished breakfast."

Alexa mock groaned. "Oh well. What's one more pastry in the grand scheme of things?" She tapped on the door. When a voice called out 'Enter', she opened the door and stepped aside for Moxley to enter. "Mr. Regal. Mr. Moxley is here."

"Excellent, thank you, Alexa." William Regal stood and walked around his desk to shake Moxley's hand. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Moxley." After shaking hands, he motioned towards a side table. "I'd like Alexa to be present, if that's acceptable to you. She's done quite a bit of work on your case and can answer any questions you may have that I can't."

"No problem." Moxley studied the woman who closed the office door then sat between them at the table. 'Guess she just wasn't inflating her position when she said she was his legal assistant.'

Regal placed several legal folders on the table and sat down. "I'm not certain what Mr. Reigns has told you about my involvement."

"Just the basics," Moxley admitted. "To be honest, I didn't know I had an attorney."

Regal coughed. "Yes, well, given the circumstances, Mr. Reigns felt some level of plausible deniability was required. Officially, my firm took evidence that Mr. Reigns collected and filed legal motions on your behalf as an interested third party concerned with justice." He grunted. "This work will continue as you're not the only person that bloody duplicitous old sod has screwed over."

Alexa glanced at Moxley with a quick grin.

"Fucking Detective Jack Swagger," Regal snarled. Then he caught himself. "My apologies, Alexa."

Alexa waved her hand. "I've called him worse than that."

Moxley managed not to smile. "What about the guy in the lab? Roman said he's going to prison as well."

"Oh, yes, 'Doctor' Zebulon Colter will be serving quite a long sentence as Swagger," Regal assured him. "It turns out he falsified his academic credentials. God only knows how many people have been wrongly convicted based on his ineptitude."

"But we're going to find out," Alexa solemnly added.

"Indeed we are, Alexa. Indeed we are." Regal took a deep breath. "Now, as to your circumstance, Mr. Moxley." He opened one file and slid a legal document across the table. "This is the legal paperwork vacating your conviction. As usual it contains far more words than are necessary, but in essence it states that due to new evidence being brought to the attention of the Court, you were wrongly convicted and are now released with your official record expunged of your conviction along with the Court's apology."

Moxley barely glanced at the stapled pieces of paper and grunted. A second piece of paper slid across the desk.

"This is the official apology from the District Attorney's office also signed by His Honor, the Mayor." Regal's voice dripped with sarcasm. "It's worth whatever you want it to be worth, but I would advise you keeping it. Just in case. I advise you to keep these documents in a bank safety deposit box. Again, just in case."

Moxley grimaced but nodded. He slid all the papers to one side. "I know Swagger and Colter are going to prison, but what about the D.A? And what happened to the old Chief of Police?"

Regal's smile reminded Moxley of the ones worn by some of his former prison inmates…just before somebody got hurt. "The actions of District Attorney David Otunga are under review by the Iowa Bar Association. He's been 'requested' by the Bar not to involve himself in any court cases pending the completion of the review. I believe he realized it was in his best interest to agree to that request. My sources tell me a Special District Attorney has been appointed. I anticipate that announcement any day." He leaned back in his chair. "As for the former Chief of Police, Mr. Bruce Pritchard, he retired. Reasons of health, from what I understand."

"Health, huh?" Moxley raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed."

The two men exchanged a level look while Alexa slowly smiled.

"This is your new driver's license as well as your motorcycle operator's license. Because your conviction was vacated, new licenses have been issued." Regal half-smiled. "The pictures were taken from your old licenses."

"Surprised they didn't use my mug shot," Moxley muttered as he put the licenses into his wallet.

Alexa choked back a laugh.

"Where is my motorcycle, anyway? The cops claimed it was the 'getaway vehicle' and impounded it."

"After the trial, it was sold at a police auction," Regal explained. "I'm in the process of tracking it down, but it appears it's been sold several times."

Moxley briefly closed his eyes. "Don't bother," he finally spoke. "Wouldn't be the same."

Alexa grimaced and glanced at Regal.

Regal cleared his throat. "This is the paperwork regarding the financial settlement. Please understand, this is what the City of Davenport is offering. If you feel it's not enough, I'll be more than happy to go back for more. Once you sign, however, you can't go back for more."

Moxley looked at the paperwork that came across the table. He slowly flipped through the pages. "Eight million," he murmured. After several minutes, he shrugged. "As long as I get it all at one time, I'm good with it."

Regal grinned. "As specified on page two." He reached a pen across the table. "Once you sign the agreement, I'll file the paperwork. The money will be available within one week. And I've been authorized to hand you a certified check for 10% of this amount upon your signature. I suggest you get to a bank and open an account immediately. Advise me of the account number for the transfer of the balance."

Moxley's blue eyes widened momentarily. "That would be eight hundred grand? Right now?"

Regal nodded, his own blue eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, next stop is the bank," Moxley muttered. He took the pen and signed his name to both copies of the paperwork. "Uh…Roman didn't mention how you'd get your fee. Are they going to cut you a separate check or do I…"

Regal held up his hand. "My firm is doing this pro bono. The money is entirely yours." He saw the suspicion in Moxley's eyes and smiled. "As I said, you're not the only person that Swagger and Colter screwed over. At my age, you sometimes do things for the good of your soul."

'More like there's a personal reason to go after Swagger and Colter.' Moxley silently nodded.

Regal took Moxley's copies of all the paperwork and slid them into a legal sized envelope. Then he handed Moxley the check.

As Moxley stared at it, he was aware of the phone on Regal's desk ringing. Regal walked over to answer it and spoke quietly into the receiver.

Alexa gently touched Moxley's arm. "Sure you don't want anything to drink?" she quietly asked.

Moxley shook his head. "No." He took a deep breath. "No, thanks. It's just…"

Alexa smiled and patted his arm.

"Bloody hell!"

Startled, both Moxley and Alexa looked at Regal who was glaring down at his desk.

Regal looked at Moxley. "There are two Homicide detectives in the reception area requesting to speak with you. No one in this office told anyone of your appointment today, and I'm sure Mr. Reigns didn't blab about it. Somebody's keeping tabs on you, lad."

Moxley's jaw clenched.

"Alexa, escort Mr. Moxley out through the back hallway. I'll…"

"No. I'm not running." Moxley carefully put the check into the envelope and closed it. "I don't want to talk with them today, but I'm not running from them."

Regal nodded with a bit of approval. "Very well. Let's see who we're dealing with, shall we?"

As Regal donned his suit coat and Alexa touched up her blonde hair, Moxley texted Roman.

'Done with legal stuff. Pick me up when you can. Coffee shop next door.'

He put the legal envelope into his jacket pocket then followed Regal and Alexa to the reception area.

"I'm William Regal, Mr. Moxley's attorney," Regal said when he entered the room. "And the two of you are?"

"Mr. Regal. I'm Detective John Cena, and this is my partner, Detective A. J. Styles." Cena handed their cards to Regal.

"Hmm…Homicide Division. Second Precinct," Regal grunted. "This is my legal assistant, Ms. Bliss; and this is my client, Mr. Moxley."

"Mr. Moxley, we've been assigned to investigate the murder…"

"Yes, I'm sure you have," Regal interrupted. "My client is unavailable today. As you can imagine, he's putting his life back together. And you will only speak with him in the presence of either myself or Ms. Bliss."

Cena nodded. "Understood. However, we do need to speak with your client as soon as possible."

"Tomorrow. Assuming you're working Saturday?" Regal politely asked.

"Guess we are," Styles wryly commented.

Regal glanced at Moxley. "What time is convenient for you, sir?"

Moxley shrugged.

"Very well, then," Regal decided. "Eleven tomorrow morning. Here."

Cena nodded. "Thank you."

"Oh, Detective Cena?" When Cena stopped, Regal continued, "My client's wrongful conviction has been vacated. That means he never committed any crime. So, surveillance of my client is unwarranted and will cease immediately. Otherwise, there will be a second lawsuit on his behalf. Do I make myself understood?" Regal's soft voice held more than a hint of steel.

"Understood," Styles nodded. "In our defense, we needed to know how to make contact with him for questioning."

"Through his attorney, Detective Styles. That should have been obvious."

"Mr. Moxley won't be under any further surveillance, Mr. Regal. You have my word," Cena promised.

"Until tomorrow morning, gentlemen." Regal pointedly glanced at the office door and watched them leave. He turned to the receptionist's desk and found two business cards. He handed them to Moxley. "If you're contacted again, call either myself or Alexa."

Moxley nodded. "Yeah, I remember the drill." Putting the cards into his pocket, he then shook hands with Regal then with Alexa. "Thanks for everything. Guess I'll see you tomorrow at eleven."

"Get to the bank as soon as you can," Regal advised. "If the police are starting a new investigation, the news will be breaking soon about your release."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seth Rollins found himself wandering around the bookstore, lost in memories. This had been his childhood refuge. A place where he could disappear among the books and live out adventures and learn about everything. Everything except how to understand John Rollins.

Seth sighed then sat behind the counter. Since college, he'd spent his life wandering the country. He'd lived his first year from college in Denver writing and playing tourist. Then Phoenix. Then New Orleans. Now in Chicago. He had two months left on his lease there. It wouldn't be a financial burden to break the lease early and have his belongings shipped back to Davenport. He was on excellent terms with his landlord who'd become a hero to his grandchildren because of some insider knowledge into the world S. R. Gixx.

He began a list of things to do if he decided to keep the bookstore and open the café and study hall.

Find names and contact info for employees and anyone going to work in café and study hall.

Find names and contact info for contractors working on café and study hall. Get idea of project status and completion dates.

Schedule meeting with Sandow to…

Seth began chewing on the end of the pen. He had to make a decision. Too many people were depending upon that decision. Whether he decided to run the businesses or sell them, these people deserved to know what was going on.

He was startled to hear tapping on the front door. He looked up to see a tall man with dark hair neatly pulled back into a bun at the nape of his neck.

Seth walked to the door and unlocked it. Opening it slightly, he said, "I'm sorry. We're not open today."

The man smiled. "I didn't think so. But I was driving by and saw you through the window. My name is Roman Reigns."

"Oh." Seth hesitated, then stepped back. "Please come in. I'm Seth Rollins." He closed and locked the door. When he turned, he saw Roman holding out his hand. With a smile, he shook it.

"I won't be long," Roman assured him. "I just wanted to give you my condolences on the death of your great-uncle. He and my father were associates and maybe you could even call them friends. I'm sorry I wasn't at the funeral yesterday, but I was out of town dealing with a family issue."

"Thank you and no apology necessary." Seth briefly chewed his bottom lip. "I haven't made any decision about…"

Roman waved his hand. "It's a big decision. Take your time."

"If I did sell to you, would you keep the bookstore open? What about the café and study hall?"

"Oh, the bookstore would definitely stay open," Roman chuckled. "My brother would probably punch my lights out if I sold it. We both spent time here in the back studying." He exchanged a grin with Seth. "As for the café and study hall, I'd continue with what your great-uncle had planned. No changes."

Seth nodded. "That helps a lot. Actually, it's a little overwhelming."

Roman scratched his jaw. "Well, if you were to keep the businesses, what would you like to do?"

Seth shrugged. "The bookstore would stay as it is. The deli? Once a menu's selected, I guess it'll be okay." He grinned. "But the study hall? I wouldn't want some prefab desks and chairs. I'd like to have real furniture. Like Uncle John put in the back for kids who are studying. Sturdy stuff. But I don't even know who made it."

"Guy who did it retired years ago. Name was Ben Dawson," Roman recalled. "Arthritis made it impossible for him to do the work because he did as much as he could by hand." He saw Seth's confused look and explained. "He made a desk for my dad. Dad swore it was sturdy enough that he could've jumped on it like a trampoline and not broken it." He grinned. "My dad was a pretty big man."

Seth grinned. "Well, guess that option's out."

"Maybe not," Roman murmured. He saw Seth's look of interest and continued. "There was a guy who worked with Dawson. Dawson taught him the trade as an apprentice or something. Actually, he made some end tables for my Dad. Dad loved them and never stopped bragging about them. Good solid pieces. The guy's back in town, but I don't know if he'd be interested in getting back to into doing this type of work." He took a card case from his inner jacket pocket and handed his card to Seth. "But if you decide to go that route, give me a call. I'll find out if he's interested." He grinned. "Good idea, by the way."

Seth studied the card and nodded.

Roman frowned as his cellphone buzzed. He took it from his pocket and read the text. "And speaking of my brother, I need to pick him up." He replaced the phone and followed Seth to the door. "Once again, take your time making your decision. Hope to see you again, Seth."

"Same here, Roman. Thanks for stopping by." Seth watched the other man get into a car and drive away. He locked the door and walked back behind the counter.

Despite Roman's advice to take his time, he knew time wouldn't make the decision easier.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Moxley sat at a table in the coffee shop by the front window. The coffee was tolerable, but he was left in peace to watch people walking by. Watching to see who wasn't walking around but keeping an eye on him. But he couldn't spot anyone.

The cellphone Roman had given him rang, and he quickly picked it up. "Yeah?"

"I'm just around the corner."

Moxley stood. "See you out front."

He slid the cellphone into his pocket then walked out and casually looked around as Roman's car pulled up. He ran between two parked cars and got inside, closing the door behind him.

"Seatbelt," Roman reminded him.

"Yeah, I sure as hell don't want to get pulled over," Moxley grunted as he fastened his seat belt.

"Where to?"

"Bank. Whatever bank you use." Moxley grinned. "I got a check to deposit."

"They cut the check already?" Roman looked surprised.

"Once I signed the paperwork, Regal was authorized to give me a certified check for 10% of the total." Moxley chuckled at Roman's expression.

"You've got a certified check for eight hundred grand in your pocket?" Roman saw Moxley's grin and shook his head. "Yeah. Bank. Now." He chuckled and grinned back at his brother. "You're buying dinner tonight."

"Yeah, we probably should grab something and take it back or have something delivered," Moxley suggested. "Cops showed up at Regal's office wanting to ask me questions about the murder."

The smile on Roman's face faded. "How did they know where you were?"

"According to one of the cops, they had me under surveillance so they knew where to contact me when they wanted to question me," Moxley explained. He saw Roman's eyes dart to the rearview mirror. "Regal warned them off, threatening another lawsuit. I'm meeting him at his office tomorrow at eleven to answer questions."

"Who are the cops?" Roman asked.

"Homicide detectives named John Cena and A. J. Styles," Moxley answered. "Know anything about them?"

Roman nodded. "They're not locals. They came in just after Malenko took over as Chief of Police. From what I know, Cena was mentored by Malenko. Did a stint with the FBI then joined the Seattle PD when Malenko was there. Clean reputation. As for Styles, he's out of the Atlanta PD. Worked with Cena on some cases when Cena was in the FBI. Also has a clean reputation although he's known to walk close to the line at times. Pretty sure Malenko brought them in." He sighed. "Either they had my place or Regal's office under surveillance."

"My money's on your place," Moxley calmly replied. "They probably ran your plates when you picked me up at the prison."

Roman glanced at this brother out of the corner of his eyes. No, it was never a good sign when Moxley stayed that calm for any length of time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming to this press conference."

Mayor Paul Heyman smiled at the audience of reporters. While they personally may not like him, he knew they loved him for the sound bytes that made them look good.

"Chief of Police Dean Malenko will open this conference. Chief Malenko?" Heyman stepped aside.

Dean Malenko stepped to the podium and eyed the reporters. "Thank you, Mayor Heyman. I'd like to introduce Special District Attorney Adam Cole. He's been appointed by the Governor to run the District Attorney's office." He held up a hand to stop their questions. "Any questions regarding this should be addressed to Special D.A. Cole after I've concluded my statement."

"Five and a half years ago, a murder was committed. Most of you knew the victim and worked with her. Renee Young, a reporter with the Davenport Daily. A man named Jon Moxley was arrested and convicted of that murder." Malenko made sure every member of the media's eyes were on him. "I'm here to tell you that Mr. Moxley was wrongfully convicted." He let the media scream out questions for nearly a minute until they realized he wasn't going to answer anything. When he had silence again, Malenko continued.

"Mr. Moxley was convicted based upon evidence that a Davenport Homicide Detective named Jack Swagger falsified. Mr. Moxley was also convicted based upon DNA evidence that was falsified by Dr. Zebulon Colter of the Davenport Police Laboratory. Subsequent investigation has revealed that Mr. Colter falsified his academic credentials and is not qualified to teach elementary school science much less work in a laboratory. Both Mr. Swagger and Mr. Colter have been arrested and face various charges. That investigation is under the control of Special D. A. Cole."

Malenko waited for a few seconds as he saw the media look towards the man standing to his left.

"The investigation into the murder of Renee Young has been reopened. As it is an ongoing investigation, I cannot and will not comment upon it. Mr. Moxley has been released from prison with his record expunged. As he is a free citizen, I remind you he has the full rights of citizenship and should not be harassed. I'm not telling you how to do your job. I expect you to do your job in a professional and legal manner."

"This deplorable incident has put a stain upon this city and this department. It undercuts the ability of the police department to do its job, and its credibility with the Court and the public. It will not be tolerated." Malenko eyed everyone in the audience. "I don't care if you carry a badge. I don't care how long you've carried a badge. I don't care who you are or who you know or who you're related to. This department will be held to the highest standards. There will be no exceptions." He turned to the man standing to his left. "Special D. A. Adam Cole."

Adam Cole's blue eyes twinkled as he stepped forward. 'Wonderful guy. Throws me to the wolves without a second's hesitation.' He faced the crowd with a slight smile. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen."