Funerals. A. J. Styles hated funerals. Hated them with a passion. But attending the funerals of murder victims was part of the job so he sucked it up. Sat through the funeral service at the church where Mike Mizanin's mother almost fainted then at the brief gravesite service where Mizanin's father almost fainted.

The widow's eyes were bloodshot and swollen. But she held herself with pride telling the priest it was the least she could do to honor her husband's memory. Her mother standing by her side, she endured the murmured condolences when the gravesite service was completed.

Styles followed Cena as his partner slowly approached the widow. He saw Dr. Drake Maverick exchange a glance with Maryse Mizanin's mother and stand slightly behind her, worriedly splitting his concentration between the widow and Mizanin's sobbing parents who were making their way towards one of the funeral home limousines.

Then his ears perked up as Mizanin's partner gently hugged Maryse.

"John, I'm glad you came," Maryse half-smiled.

"Of course. If there's anything I can do, just let me know." Morrison took a deep breath. "As soon as you get settled, send me the name of your attorney. I'll pass it on to the insurance company and set up a procedure to verify what the business owes for Mike's work. In fact, I'm closing on a property later today that Mike was working on. Buyer is paying full asking price so that'll be a nice amount for you."

"Thank you, John." Maryse squeezed his hand. "I appreciate what you're doing for us."

"I'll get to work on selling the house as soon as I can," Morrison promised. "Probably week after next."

"I've changed my mind about selling it." Maryse took a deep breath. "I'm giving it to Mike's parents. They…didn't want me to sell it. But I explained I can't live there. Not after…"

John silently nodded.

"For the sake of my children…I want things to be good between me and Mike's parents," Maryse explained. "It will help them to be in Mike's house…where he was happy." She shrugged. "If they wish to sell it later, they can."

Morrison caught the look of anger on the face of Maryse's mother. "If that's what you want, then you should do it. I think we both know it would mean a lot to Mike to have peace between everyone. Especially for the sake of his children." He hugged her once more. "Give me a call if you can before you leave. And if I can do anything for you, don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you, John," Maryse quietly spoke. As he walked away, he heard Maryse's mother hiss edto her daughter.

"C'est une erreur. Vous ne donnez pas de biens precieux." The older woman struggled to maintain her composure.

Maryse turned and calmly replied, "Chut, Maman. C'est ce que Mike voudrait que je fasse." Then she turned as Cena and Styles approached. "Detectives. Thank you for coming."

Styles' parents had raised him to have manners so he didn't let his dislike of funerals show. And his father had imparted a piece of wisdom to him early in his teenage years. "Always be polite and gallant to women. They eat that up with a spoon. It'll make your life a hell of a lot easier, boy." However, Styles figured that mothers-in-law were immune to it.

"Again, our deepest condolences," Styles said, gently holding Maryse's hand in his. "Honestly, there never seems to be the right words at a time like this. But the service was very comforting."

"Thank you," Maryse sadly smiled.

"Mrs. Mizanin, we'll keep in touch with you about the investigation," Cena promised. "If anything breaks on it, we'll notify you personally."

Maryse hesitated then replied, "You can reach me by phone. I'm returning to Montreal for the birth of our…our child."

"That's not a problem, is it?" Maryse's mother demanded.

"Maman," Maryse wearily spoke.

"Not at all," Cena calmly assured her. He looked back at Maryse. "When are you leaving?"

"Tuesday," Maryse answered.

Styles handed Maryse one of his cards. "Just call my number and leave a contact number before you leave." He half-smiled. "Or text it."

"Thank you, Detective."

"Have a safe trip, Mrs. Mizanin," Cena offered. He looked at Maryse's mother. "You as well, ma'am."

Styles followed Cena as they walked away. He heard Maryse's mutter of 'merde' as Mayor Heyman approached her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Chief Dean Malenko, this is one of my investigators. Detective Roderick Strong." Adam Cole smiled as the two men shook hands.

"Pleased to meet you, Detective." Malenko looked at Cole as he sat down. "Cena and Styles are on their way up. They just got back from the Mizanin funeral."

Cole pleasantly nodded as he and Strong took their seats in Malenko's private conference room. A few minutes later, Cena and Styles joined them, each carry a file folder. Cole introduced Strong, and the detectives all shook hands.

"I thought it best if we brought you up to speed on the Young murder investigation since it's officially under your control," Malenko looked at Cole who nodded.

"All the physical evidence has been sent to the FBI for testing and re-evaluation," Cena began. "When we explained the situation, that a man had been wrongly convicted, they promised to expedite it as much as possible. We were promised a report by the end of next week. As you know, the State Police Lab matched DNA found at the crime scene with Bray Wyatt."

Cole nodded. "Hopefully, the FBI lab will confirm that. If not, we've got an even bigger mess on our hands."

"What can you tell us about Bray Wyatt?" Strong asked.

Styles opened a file. "Born in Louisiana, near Baton Rouge. Grew up in the bayous. Rarely attended school. However, he's self-educated and is an eloquent speaker. You could probably call him a cult leader. He attracts people who are disillusioned about their lives…maybe even depressed. The few people who have left his so-called 'family' say he speaks in parables and riddles. But it seems that he tailors his words to each individual. With some, it's almost an apocalyptic message. With others, it's the safety and security of family."

Cole leaned back in his chair, silently nodded.

"Wyatt's had a string of minor arrests," Cena continued. "Trespassing. Violation of Orders of Protection. Shoplifting. He moves his family around when law enforcement start watching him closely. He disappeared soon after Young was murdered. We don't know if he and his family moved away or just went to ground. Some members of his family have been spotted in certain sections of the city. But no confirmed sight of Wyatt."

"If his family is here, then so is he," Strong stated.

Styles and Cena silently nodded.

"We've gone through the original case file," Cena unhappily sighed. "It looks like Swagger focused on Jon Moxley right from the beginning. Colter told us that Swagger was in love with Renee Young. She'd made contact with Moxley while preparing an expose on Sika Reigns."

"The Bloodline Sika Reigns?" Strong asked.

Malenko nodded.

"According to Moxley, when she started asking him pointed questions, he told her he wasn't interested and walked away," Cena continued. "About a week before she was murdered. Claims he didn't see or talk to her after that. And we've nothing to contradict that statement."

"And Moxley had a personal relationship with the Reigns family going back to his days in middle school," Styles added. "Even lived with the Reigns family when his own parents abandoned him." He glanced at Cena who nodded. "We pulled some other case files of Swagger's. It looks like he may have been feeding Young information that she used in her newspaper column and public access broadcasts."

"Son of a bitch," Malenko growled.

All four detectives watched him warily as he got to his feet and paced back and forth.

"Anything else?" Malenko finally asked.

Since he'd already been the bearer of bad news, Styles took one for the team and delivered the rest. "There's also evidence in the case files that Bray Wyatt was an informer of Swagger's. It was Wyatt that got Swagger looking in Moxley's direction. Not that he needed much of a push because of Swagger's relationship with Young." He gave Malenko an apologetic look. "And it looks like one of the stories Young was working on was about Wyatt."

While Malenko silently fumed, Cole thought hard then made a decision. When Malenko sat back down, he exchanged a quick look with Strong who barely nodded in return. Then he quietly spoke.

"What I'm going to say doesn't leave this room," Cole said. "I'm taking a big chance on trusting you three. So, God help you if this goes south."

He had the immediate attention of the Davenport cops.

"Swagger and Young have a relationship although it looks like it was more on his part than hers," Cole slowly spoke. "Colter apparently thought so. Young decides to try and get information from Moxley. She overplays her hand, and he walks away. She probably overplayed her hand in asking questions about Wyatt and winds up murdered."

He saw Cena and Styles slowly nod. Malenko kept his eyes fixed on Cole.

"Wyatt sends Swagger after Moxley which probably didn't take much effort because of Swagger's feelings for Young," Cole continued. "Moxley goes to prison, and Wyatt lays low or moves away for a while. Then Wyatt's DNA is found at the murder scene and Moxley's isn't. Swagger and Colter are arrested. Wyatt's now got a big problem. One of them…or both are going to make a deal. Swagger even mentioned it during the interview."

"Judas H. Priest," Malenko muttered, already a step ahead of Cole's explanation.

Cole slowly nodded in agreement. "Swagger and Colter are then poisoned thanks to strychnine in their liquid nighttime cold medicine. Furnished by the PD pharmacist."

"Io Shiari," Cena coldly interjected.

"There was a note found close to her body. On the face of it, it appears to be a suicide note written by Shiari," Cole continued. "I'm having the handwriting analyzed to either confirm or disprove that. I'm also waiting on the coroner's official conclusion of suicide or homicide. We've confirmed that Shiari owned the gun found by her body, and the ballistics match the gun to the bullet in her head."

"What did the note say?" Malenko asked.

Cole hesitated then replied. "It said 'I do this for Him. He is everywhere.' Could be referring to God, but what if it refers to Bray Wyatt?"

"How do you get that?" Styles demanded.

"We spoke with Shiari's cousins, her closest family," Strong explained. "One of them said that Shiari was dissatisfied with her personal life and somewhat depressed. She wanted a family…children. Then she started talking about a man she'd met. Never mentioned his name. Just referred to the man as 'him' or 'he'. Her cousins never met him or knew what he did for a living, which was a bone of contention. Shiari stopped talking about him which could have been because it became a problem between her and her cousins."

"You said Wyatt preyed on people who were disillusioned…depressed," Cole pointed out.

"It's possible," Cena nodded. "It actually makes more sense than Moxley and the Bloodline are eliminating anyone connected with his being framed and sent to prison."

"It doesn't matter what's possible," Malenko spoke up. "It's what we can prove."

"The reason I'm telling you this is because it's possible the murders of Young, Swagger, Colter, and Shiari are all connected," Cole finished. "We stand a better chance of solving them if we're sharing information. But it can't go any further."

"Agreed," Malenko nodded. Then he muttered under his breath, "Son of a bitch."

Styles had to agree.

"We'll continue working on finding a link between Shiari and Wyatt." Cole and Strong stood up. "I'll touch base again with you sometime tomorrow, Chief."

Malenko nodded. He rubbed his face as Cole and Strong left the room. Then he took a deep breath.

"Okay. The Mizanin case," he began. "I met with the forensic accountant. Shyster said there are a few items in Mizanin's financials that would show up if he was audited. But he said they would be minor nuisances that could be easily resolved. Other than those little issues, his financials are clean. Both personal and business."

"Mizanin's cell phone records support Axel and Dallas' statements of someone calling from realty businesses in Tampa and Providence," Styles reported. "That could explain Mizanin's phone call to Axel demanding he and Dallas come to the office that late at night."

"I checked on the owners of 'Truthful Eats'," Cena added. "A few minor brushes with law enforcement. Loud music resulting in a court appearance for disturbing the peace. Things like that. They appear to be small business owners running a takeout place that Mizanin frequented with no connection or motive for Mizanin's murder. As for insurance, there was a partners' insurance policy that his partner, John Morrison, told us about and gave us a copy. Worth two million dollars which is in line for their size of business and generated income. I confirmed that with other insurance agents. Morrison said he was signing it over to Mizanin's wife which I confirmed with the insurance agent in question. Mizanin also had a personal insurance policy for a million dollars with his wife as the beneficiary that he increased to two million after his first child was born."

"So, the widow gets two million that she knew about plus a bonus of two million thanks to her husband's business partner," Malenko mused.

"And she's leaving Tuesday to return to Montreal for the birth of her second child," Cena added.

"Everyone says Mizanin was completely in love with her," Styles pointed out. "No hint of marital problems. Mizanin wasn't well liked by his fellow realtors, but that appears to be professional jealousy."

"We've got statements giving Axel and Dallas an alibi for the time of Mizanin's murder," Cena sighed. "The Crime Stoppers' tip about a confrontation in Rollins' bookstore went nowhere. We interviewed Joe Seanoa, Jon Moxley, and Roman Reigns. Reigns was at the opening for the new casino…used the Mayor as a reference…and had no motive to murder Mizanin. Seanoa and Moxley alibied each other. We interviewed Seth Rollins, the new owner, and he said he was the only one at the bookstore that night and there was no confrontation. The only common factor was that Mike Mizanin, Seth Rollins, Roman Reigns, and Jon Moxley all attended Davenport High School together."

"But, as Seth Rollins pointed out, that means nothing; and he denied knowing either of them although he said Mizanin contacted him after his great-uncle's funeral about selling the bookstore," Styles added. "Rollins said their graduating class was over 300 students. I checked, and it was 327 students. Plus, the previous owner, John Rollins opened part of the bookstore to kids to use to do homework. Some students tutored others. So, it was possible Rollins might have seen them or even met them briefly but nothing that would have been important enough to remember."

"Somebody wanted us to look at Moxley for Mizanin's murder," Malenko mused. "That tip was too detailed."

Styles nodded. "Can't prove it, but I'd bet that confrontation did occur."

"Why would Rollins lie about it?"

"That, Chief, is a good question," Cena admitted. "We're going to dig deeper into Rollins' background and keep an eye on him. See if there's any contact between him and Moxley or Reigns."

"Keep me informed."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Congratulations, Mr. Moxley, you're now the official owner of that building." John Morrison pocketed the paperwork and payment for the building in question. "Here are the keys."

Mox stood and shook Morrison's hand. "Thanks for getting this done so quickly."

"My pleasure," Morrison smiled. He nodded to Alexa. "Ms. Bliss."

"I'll see you out," Alexa smiled. "Mr. Moxley, if you can wait in my office? It's across the hall."

When Alexa returned a few minutes later, she found Mox looking out the window. "Anything interesting going on out there?"

"No." Mox turned and half-smiled. "Still getting used to being able to look out windows whenever I want."

Alexa closed the door to her office and sadly nodded. "Okay, I'll process the paperwork to transfer the assets from you to your business," she briskly explained, sitting behind her desk. "The business license should arrive next week. I'll let you know as soon as it arrives." She handed Mox a folder. "That's a handy-dandy checklist of things you need to get done. Arrange for a business phone number. Turn on the utilities. Order furniture. Things like that. Did you get a business bank account set up?"

Mox nodded. "Yeah, that's done."

"Good. You'll need a Taxpayer I.D. number," Alexa continued, not noticing the stress on Mox' face. "I've processed the paperwork for that. It'll apply to both federal and state taxes. I also included copies of forms you'll be needing to make monthly and quarterly reports to the state and federal agencies as well as employment..." She saw the look on Mox's face and frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Mox took a deep breath. "Just…more involved than I thought it would be."

Alexa sympathetically nodded. "Just take it one step at a time," she advised. "And you can always call me for advice."

"Okay," Mox nodded. "Uh…look, I really appreciate everything you've done. Working to get me outta prison. All this stuff. Running interference with the cops."

"It's been a pleasure," Alexa grinned. "I've enjoyed putting the screws to the Man."

Mox barked out a laugh as she stood. "How's the hunt for a new dining room table and chairs going?"

"I found what I love!" Alexa gushed. She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a file. Opening it, she handed a piece of paper to Mox. "I printed it from their website."

Mox carefully studied the picture. Enough scrollwork to make it distinctive but didn't take away from its functionality. "Nice," he finally said. "Oak, huh? Shouldn't collapse on you."

Alexa's eyes twinkled. "I wrote down the pricing on the back."

Mox flipped the paper over then his jaw dropped. "Seven hundred dollars? For one chair?! You gotta be kidding me!"

"Nope. The table's is a thousand dollars," Alexa snickered. "But if I buy it all at one time, I get a 10% discount. Oh, and free shipping."

Mox did the quick math. "Nearly four grand for a table and four chairs," he grunted. He noted the website address.

"Just under thirty-five hundred if I buy it all at one time," Alexa reminded him. She took the paper and replaced it in the file. "I'm saving for it, but it'll take a long time to get it. So, I'll make do until then or I see something else."

"But you really like that one," Mox teased.

"No, Mr. Moxley, I love it," Alexa grinned. "I'll walk you out. Is someone waiting on you?"

"Roman and a couple of friends are at the coffee shop next door," Mox answered. "I thought I'd take them by the building and show it off a little."

"Good for you!"

"Uh…Alexa…" Mox paused then took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me tomorrow night. Just dinner and…well, just dinner."

"Mr. Moxley, are you asking me out on a date?" Alexa looked up at him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am," Mox nodded. "No problem if you'd rather not."

"Why wouldn't I?" Alexa asked in a puzzled tone of voice. "Dinner sounds fine. And no need to take me to some swanky place. I'm really more comfortable going some place where we can relax and…just be us. I've got your phone number in the files. I'll text you my address."

"Pick you up around seven tomorrow evening?" Mox asked.

"Sure," Alexa nodded. "And, really…I'm good with burgers and fries."

Mox widely grinned, showing dimples in each cheek. "How do you feel about hot dogs?"

"Sounds good to me, Mr. Moxley."

"Mox, Alexa. My friends call me Mox."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'Heading towards the coffee shop now.' Mox casually whistled as he replaced his cell phone in his pocket and walked out of the office building

"Moxley! Jon Moxley!"

Mox spun around and stared at the man walking up to him. He glanced around to see if anyone else was approaching him. When he saw no one, he returned his attention to the man in front of him.

He was a tall man. Much taller than Roman who had a few inches on Mox. Broad shouldered with a muscular build. Dark hair and blue eyes with a hint of grey in them. And a British accent.

"Mr. Moxley, I'm Wade Barrett. A reporter for Channel 11 News. I'd like your comment on the deaths of Detective Jack Swagger and Mr. Zebulon Colter."

"No comment." Mox turned to walk away.

"Surely you must have something to say," Barrett moved to stay in Mox's face. "After all, they framed you, didn't they? For murder. You wound up spending five years in prison for a crime you didn't commit."

"I said 'no comment'," Mox growled.

Roman walked out of the coffee shop, deep in conversation with Ali. Jericho glanced to his right, expecting to see Mox walking towards them but saw Mox was being confronted by a man he recognized as a local reporter.

"Roman, don't turn around. Keep walking and get to the car. Ali, you're with him," Jericho quietly ordered.

"Mox?" Roman muttered even as he began walking.

"I'll get him." Jericho turned around, knowing Ali would keep Roman moving to the parking lot. He briskly walked up to Mox and ignored Barrett. "Ready to go, Mox?" he asked.

"Yep," Mox nodded.

"I'm sorry. We've not been introduced. Wade Bar…"

"I know who you are," Jericho calmly interrupted. He looked at Mox. "Let's go."

"Is there a reason you don't want to make a comment, Mr. Moxley?"

Mox took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

"Easy. Don't give him an excuse," Jericho quietly advised.

Mox nodded and looked over his shoulder at Barrett. "Any statements will be made through my attorneys. They're in that building." He turned around and walked away with Jericho at his side.

"Nice," Jericho nodded in approval.

"Where's Roman and Ali?" Mox asked, pulling out his cell phone.

"Waiting at the car," Jericho explained. "As soon as I recognized Barrett, I got Roman away."

Mox nodded, then spoke into the cell phone. "Alexa? It's Mox. I got ambushed by some reporter named Barrett just outside your office building."

"That jerk," Alexa muttered.

"I refused to comment about Swagger and Colter's murders, and he kept pushing," Mox explained as they walked onto the parking lot. "I told him all statements would come from my attorneys and they were in that building. I'm hoping there a bunch of them."

Alexa laughed. "There are, but we're the only one practicing criminal law. Thanks for the heads up. I'll let the receptionist know. See you tomorrow night."

Mox disconnected the call and shoved the cell phone in his pocket. As they approached the car, he could see Roman's concerned expression. Ali was behind the wheel and had the SUV running.

"Good job sticking with the 'no comment'," Jericho praised as they got to the SUV.

"Yeah, well, the last reporter I talked to got murdered; and I got framed for it," Mox grunted. "Not looking for lightning to strike twice."