Disclaimer: Don't own Phoenix Wright. But I do own Cameron.
A/N: A quarter of the way through the story, Phoenix talks to Maya about the trial solved at the beginning of the last chapter. It's slightly long and not relevant to the story until much later. If it gets too tedious to look at, feel free to skip it for now. Also, I know that the story Phoenix gives probably isn't perfect, but if there are any glaring contradictions, please let me know and I'll try to fix them. This is my first Phoenix Wright fic, so I'm not used to writing up cases.
And, as always, please RnR. Thank you to all those who reviewed the first chapter. I'll try a bit more to work on my pacing. Let me know if there's anything I could do better (with the exclusion of flames).
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You, Me, And The War Between Us
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Chapter Two—Reminiscing
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"Niiiiiiiiick! Open the door!"
Phoenix almost spilled coffee all over his desk in surprise when the violent poundings commenced against his door. He cursed, fumbling with the mug, but managed to successfully get a good grasp on it before coffee went everywhere. Breathing outwards, he scooted back in his swivel chair, preparing to stand.
"Nick! Are you in there!?" A second round of bangs attacked the door and Phoenix got up from his chair, not wanting to see if the door was capable of being torn from its hinges.
He brusquely moved around his desk and headed out to the front room. He tripped once, hitting the coat rack and knocking all of the clothes to the ground. The lawyer restrained himself from cursing and continued ahead. Just before the person outside got another chance to scream out in the hallway, he tore the door open, a very sour look upon his face.
Maya stood there in her usual acolyte uniform, one hand gripping a bag while the other hung in midair, fist still formed. One glance at her partner's glare and she was all smiles, releasing her fist and moving it to behind her head.
"H-Hey Nick. Did I…interrupt something?"
The lawyer wasn't sure whether to be angry or pleased to see her. Because of her incessant pounding, he had almost ruined several important documents, caused himself injury, and there was a barricade of coats on the floor. Still, he hadn't seen her in ten months. Upon closer examination, he could see that she had matured slightly, becoming an inch or so taller with deeper features that pulled her away from teenage delinquency to an almost full fledged woman. I'll bet she still acts like a kid, though.
Her lips curled into a thin smile, lighting her eyes up in the doorway. Without any warning, she dropped her bag and lunged forward, seizing her friend in an unexpected hug. Phoenix was taken aback, and had to adjust himself against her weight. Maya's tiny arms tightened around him, and he slowly returned her embrace.
"How've you been, Nick?" Most of her words had been absorbed in his shirt, but he thought he could hear what she said.
"Uh, just fine, I guess. I thought you weren't coming home until next week."
She pried herself away from him at the moment his sentence ended, and he could her puzzled stare.
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
"Well, I got your letter yesterday saying that you'd be here next week. If I had known, I would've prepared, but I didn't get the chance."
"W-What?" she asked. "I wrote that letter last week. You're telling me that you just got it yesterday?"
"Yeah," he gestured to the back room where his desk was. "Your letter is still sitting on my desk…along with today's mail that I haven't gotten around to looking at yet."
Maya leaned down to pick up her bag, her raven hair cascading over her face and sweeping across the ground. When she stood back up, she pushed it back, combing several fingers through it.
"Oh," was all she said. He turned on his heel to walk back to his room and she trailed closely behind. "I see nothing's changed." Phoenix looked over his shoulder to see that her eyes were on her old desk.
"No. Why would it?"
She giggled. "Well, I just thought you'd rent out my desk is all. I didn't think you'd be able to manage all by yourself, Nick."
He frowned. "Gee, thanks. Glad you're back, too." She didn't catch his sarcasm. Rolling his eyes, he walked into the next room.
This time she didn't follow him, but instead began to rearrange her desk, setting her bag in her old swivel chair.
"Nick!" he heard her cry out. "You let my desk and stuff get all dusty! You're a terrible housekeeper!"
"I'm happy it's not evaluation month, then." He stooped over his desk, sorting through his mail, searching for Maya's letter to prove his point.
With one hand, he grabbed the new mail for today, and used his other to seek out the envelope. He was so wrapped up in looking for it that he was startled when a lone envelope fell to the table, bounced off, and landed on the floor by his feet. Diverting his attention from the desk, his eyes trailed down to stare at the heavy, white paper. Realizing that its outer contents seemed familiar, he dropped the other letters to his desk without looking, and knelt down to stare at it.
No return address and…a sticker that has my office address on it…with my name, no less. He bit his tongue when the memory came back to him with full force, and he snatched the letter up with one hand. Using his other hand, he tore open the top and grabbed the letter from inside. Heavy…Feels damp, like glue…Unfolding it, his eyes beheld huge, bold letters. …Magazine cutouts…His heart sank.
There, in the center of the letter, formed with the shape of magazine letter cutouts, were four words that cut clearly into his mind:
BeTtEr WaTcH yOuR bAcK
The letter didn't shock him quite as much the first letter, but there was an uneasy feeling deep inside of him that caused another kind of stir. Whoever it was that was sending these letters to him was not fooling around. A lump formed at the base of his neck.
He couldn't stop his other hand from shaking as he held the letter, fingertips sweating and leaving the paper wet. Phoenix closed his eyes momentarily, taking in deep breaths that sent a cool breeze into his lungs, removing the arising heat, but it was only minimally. Guess I'm going back to Detective Gumshoe's office. Past the discouraging thought, he tried his best to think of anyone who was capable of committing such a heinous act against him.
"Nick?"
He was snapped out of his thoughts and quickly stuffed the letter back into the envelope, folded it in half, and shoved it into his pocket. "Um…yeah?" Standing up, he spotted Maya's letter out of the corner of his eye, grabbed it, and presented it to her as she walked into his office. "Here you go."
She took it from him, quizzically, and unfolded it. Maya stared at it for only a moment before pointing out the obvious, "This is my letter."
"Yeah, I know. I got it yesterday."
She turned it back to him and used an index finger to point out a small scribble at the top. "Look at this, Nick. It's dated ten-seventeen-seventeen."
Scrutinizing the letter a bit further, he realized that she was right. "Oh…"
"Is that all you have to say? 'Oh?' You can do better than that."
He took the letter back, set it on his desk, and corrected her, "No, that's not what I meant. I mean, I just realized that, after looking through these letters here, all of my mail is a week behind." As though to prove his point, he picked up a bill from the stack of envelopes on the corner of his desk, tore the top open, and showed the date to her at the very top of the letter. "See?"
Indeed, the letters for that day were dated ten-eighteen-seventeen—something he had not noticed earlier. So…that means that these weird letters I've been getting are dated back to last week. That also means that it's impossible to have received them from either Maxwell or Judy since they were only convicted yesterday. …Guess they're off the hook…
"Ah," she agreed, "gotcha. Well, anyway, you're forgiven this time…"
"What? What did I do?"
"…In any case, what do you say we go out to my favorite ramen place and get something to eat to celebrate my coming back to work with you?"
Phoenix looked back at her, almost perplexed. "Coming…back? How long are you here for?"
Maya grinned and responded with a "victory" sign. "Well, I came up for Halloween, of course! So probably a couple of weeks…if that's okay with you…"
The lawyer quirked an eyebrow, "Your mountain people don't mind?"
"No, no, it was fine with them. But, hey!" Her eyes lit up again and she clapped her hands together. "I made some costumes for us to go trick-or-treating in!"
Staggering backwards, Phoenix stuttered, "T-Trick-or…treating? Aren't we…aren't we a bit old for that?"
Maya's hands balled up and she put them on her hips. "Hey! You're never too old to do anything, Nick! Besides, did you not hear me? I made them myself. You're going trick-or-treating with me!"
Phoenix gulped, the idea sounding all too horrendous for him to comprehend or to really agree to. What am I getting myself into? "Uh…what exactly did you make…?"
Maya beamed in delight. "Well, I'm going to go as the Pink Princess and I made you a Steel Samurai costume."
"GAH!" He knew it! It was horrible! Very, very horrible! He jumped backwards, crashing into his desk, and sent papers and letters flying. Swinging his arm back by mistake in an attempt to catch the falling objects, he hit his desk light and knocked it from the desk, causing it to tip and fall to the floor, the bulb shattering into hundreds of pieces, and the lampshade to collapse in on itself, denting one side.
He stared at the defeated lamp and the disarray around his desk, pitying himself and the moment he had stepped into the office. Why? Why didn't I just sleep in?
"Nick? Did I surprise you? I know you didn't expect me to go through with it, but…you're happy, right? You wanted to be the Steel Samurai this year, right?"
No, not really… "N-No, it's not that…It's just…this is all so sudden…"
"Nick!" Uh-oh… I fear she's going to start swinging and something more is going to get broken than my lamp. "I put blood, sweat, and tears into making those costumes." Her arms crossed over her chest, tapping a single index finger against her elbow. "You're coming trick-or-treating with me." She looks like Edgeworth when she does that.
Phoenix knew that when Maya got that way, resistance was futile. But…But…why do I have to be the Tin Samurai? Why? "I…I guess so…"
She dropped her arms. "That's the spirit, Nick! We'll have a great time!" Why am I not so sure about that? She seized his hand and made a quick jerk back towards the door. "Now that we have that settled, let's go to the ramen shop!"
"W-Wait a seco—ACK!" Phoenix was yanked forward, and swore that his arm joint had been pulled out of its socket. Still, he had no choice against the young teenager, but that didn't stop him from getting out one last protest on the way. "I…I have no money, really. I went out with Larry to the burger shop yesterday and—"
Maya abruptly halted in her tracks, causing Phoenix to crash into the back of her. He stumbled, but kept his balance, and she spun around, eyes narrowed. "I see how it is, Nick. You spend all your money with Larry, when you can see him any time you want to, but you don't want to go out and eat with me when I spend all this time and money coming back to see you."
"Well…when you put it that way…"
"You've got a lot of nerve."
"I'll take you, all right?"
Maya's cheeks puffed out. He blinked and fished out his wallet, counting the money inside.
"It's all right, Nick. I'll just go see if Larry wants to come eat with me instead."
"Hey, don't be like that," the lawyer told her. "Look, forget I said anything at all. Let me buy you lunch, all right? My treat."
"I don't know, Nick. If we spend all of your money, you won't have any money left to pay the rent." …How did she know that I was still having rent problems?
"If it was going to be a problem, I wouldn't have offered to pay for you in the first place. Now, let's go."
He expected a long, drawn out argument, but was surprised when Maya became resilient and a big smile cracked at her face.
"Right! You buy lunch! You said it, remember? No going back on it, Nick!"
"Yes, yes I know." He put the wallet back into his pants pocket. "Let's just go before the place fills up. We'll go by taxi if that's all right with you."
Maya snickered. "You still don't have your license, Nick?"
…How rude… "…One more word out of you and I'll gladly let you pay."
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Maya was working on her fourth bowl of ramen. Phoenix was still on his first, but was spending more time gaping at his empty wallet. Wait…was that a moth I saw fly out of there? At this rate, she would eat him out of house and home…only because he wouldn't have any money left to buy groceries. Looking back and forth between his wallet and half eaten ramen bowl, the defense attorney realized that he no longer had an appetite…just like the day before.
Instead, he diverted his gaze away from his problems and to the surroundings. For a weekday, it wasn't surprising that the place was virtually empty. That was, of course, until evening arrived, and then the place was usually packed. Most of the employees were already on break, eating at tables off in far corners away from the duo. Phoenix glanced at his watch. It was twelve thirty-two. Drawing in a deep breath, he began to stir his chopsticks around in the small, deep bowl.
He heard the bell on the door to the entrance jingle as a newcomer came in, but he did not turn around to see who it was. Instead, he kept his focus on his designed bowl filled with fresh pork filleted ramen until his eyes traced down to the bare counter surface, recently polished, it seemed, and barstool at which they sat at. Phoenix looked up, realizing that he felt as though he were in a bar, pacifying himself with ramen to make all his troubles vanish. It was a crazy idea, he silently admitted, but he had to agree with Maya that the ramen was good anyway.
It wasn't a very decorative place, he realized, with white walls and oak wood lining the ceiling and floor, and bamboo doors leading inside, as though it were really an ancient shack. It had somewhat of a strange atmosphere to it, but Phoenix let it roll off his back as he went back to trying to enjoy his noodles.
"So, Nick," Maya interrupted his thoughts, continuing to feed the noodles into her mouth. "Tell me, what have you been up to lately?"
"Hmm?" He looked briefly at her before returning to his bowl. "Oh…a little of this, a little of that. I wrote and told you about the case with the Chief of Police eight months ago, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well…that was the biggest case we had at the time. After that was over, everything just sort of…went back to being normal again."
Maya looked disappointed, as though she had expected some elaborate story. "Oh," she mumbled, perching her chin upon her hand. "I see. So you didn't have any clients after that?"
"Uh…I had a few, actually, all of which I had proven innocent."
"Really? That means you still have an undefeated record, right?"
"I suppose."
Her eyes turned to him and Maya pushed her ramen bowl away, as though something were bugging her. Phoenix had yet to find out what.
"So…nothing else?"
He gave a crooked smile, the thought of how much time went into the Apartment Complex Murders. Still, it was a burden gladly released. "Well…I did get a big case about a month ago that I just cracked yesterday."
"Gaaaaah, Nick!" Maya's mouth dropped. "Why didn't you tell me about that sooner? And here I thought you had spent the past ten months being boring."
"Sorry to dash your dreams then, but it really was a big deal."
"Well? Tell me! Tell me!"
"Uh…" Phoenix glanced at his watch. "It's…kind of a long story, Maya. I have to get back to work soon."
"Huh?" she blinked. "What's this 'you' stuff, Nick? You and I are both partners. Are you telling me that you've replaced me?"
"Well…Detective Gumshoe was asking if he could scoot in on it a little while back…"
Her eyes widened in fright. "You told him no, right?"
"Of course, of course. Don't give me that look. I wouldn't give up your position, Maya. You should know me better than that."
A smile broke at her lips. "I suppose. Sorry. I think…" Suddenly, her head lowered, "I think I was…scared…"
Phoenix quirked an eyebrow, "Scared?"
"Yeah…Of, well, change…I was afraid that you would've forgotten about me and replaced me."
The lawyer was dumbfounded. Does she really think I'm that cold? "Maya…I told you the day that you left that I would be waiting for you to come back. Did you think that would change?"
She did not answer immediately. Instead, she pulled her ramen bowl back and began to slowly eat again. Phoenix rubbed his tongue over his teeth, wondering what she was thinking. Perhaps she did think he had forgotten about her. That's absurd. "Maya?"
"I know." Her half lidded eyes rose back up to meet his. "I know. It's just…I was still scared."
Sensing her sincerity, he reached over and patted her hand with his own. Then, he held it there for a while longer. Her eyes quickly lowered to their hands, her mouth opening and closing, sounding out half formed words that neither of them could understand. Deciding to take the first stand, Phoenix adjusted his weight on the stool and waited for her to look back at him.
"Well…now you know that nothing's changed and everything is still the same as before. You're still my partner, you're still my friend, and none of that has altered in any way, shape, or form. Do you understand?"
She turned away and he could see that she was still uncertain, her eyebrows arched up in an almost lamenting manner. However, her eyes were shining, and betrayed her thoughts. Phoenix knew she understood.
"Now then," he began again, not allowing her time to give a verbal response. "I suppose we have enough time to hear the story. There's a lot to it, so I'm just going to cut back on the details a little…if that's all right with you." He waited for her nod and took a deep breath. "It all started about a month ago. I had just finished up a couple of other cases—nothing too major—when I received a phone call from a man named Joe Spencer. He asked me to come down to Detention and hear out his case. I was curious, so I went."
He paused for a moment to see if he had captured Maya's full attention. Realizing that he had, he continued, "I found out that he had been arrested for the murder of Ann Baxter and was also tied to three other murders that had happened within a two month period. His keycard had been found at the scene of the crime, as well as a few of his personal belongings and some of the murder weapons. He just moved here about three and a half months ago, so he could have hypothetically done the killings."
"Oh my," Maya leaned forward on her elbows, greatly interested. Her eyes illuminated under his words, and Phoenix was sure she was thinking that she was hearing a mystery story. "So the case was cut and dry, right? Was he really guilty?"
"I'm getting there," he replied over her impatient questions. "Just give me a minute." Maya settled back in her set, hands in her lap. "Anyway, he claimed that he was innocent. I'll admit, I was hesitant to take the case, but something kept bothering me. The guy was a real Goody-Two-Shoes. He would lend out his keycard because someone lost theirs, would let people have his clothes, food, and blankets, and would even drive out in the middle of the night to pick someone up. Someone like that just doesn't have the feel of a killer, you know?"
"So he's just like you?" Maya interrupted. At Nick's annoyed look, she burst out into fits of laughter.
Yeah, laugh, laugh. Larry and Edgeworth called me the same thing.
"B-Be quiet! Let me finish the story!" He shifted in his seat, and folded his arms over his chest. He heard her giggle again and his brows furrowed.
"Sorry, sorry. Please continue, Nick."
He didn't open his mouth again right away, but, instead, continued to shoot daggers in her direction. She smiled and Phoenix rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, it seemed as though all of his friends had abandoned him—gave up and thought that he had done it. In a way…I felt like I was the only one who could help him, you know? Stand up for him and prove his innocence."
"Aw, Nick! That's so sweet!" Maya clapped her hands together, beaming.
He ignored her this time. "I decided to take the case in the end. It took me a while to prepare my attack, mostly because everything seemed to be set in stone, but the one thing that bought me time was the prosecution."
She had an inquiring look on her face, as though something did not make sense.
"Wait, you just finished the case yesterday, right?" He nodded. "It took you…a month to get through this case? I thought the trial limit was three days."
"Yes, but a case can't be put together unless the prosecution is ready…which they weren't. After all, they had to link my client to four cases, rather than one. Finding that kind of evidence and piecing it together for a case takes time. In this instance, almost three weeks. It wasn't until the fourth case that any witnesses came forward to accuse Spencer in the first place, otherwise he might've never been arrested. When Prosecutor Payne found out I was the defense attorney, the detectives were told to put together a perfect case despite the fact that the first three cases held no real suspect."
That prompted a giggle from Maya. Phoenix smiled back. "I take it that this 'Prosecutor Payne' guy has met you in court before?"
"When I was first starting out, yes. Anyway, I was lucky because Detective Gumshoe was the head detective."
"How did he help?"
Phoenix lowered his head, shamefully. "Truth be told, I was having a tough time handling this case. Everything was concrete. Spencer looked like the bad guy. It certainly didn't help when I found out that he was a participant in the 'Anti-Specialists' campaign."
"The…what?"
"Anti-Specialists," he answered. "It's a campaign to rebel against the rich inhabitants within the apartment complexes. Basically, the rich were renting out the rooms and pulling strings to increase rent on the poor and middle class citizens and tighten rules and regulations. In other words, eventually weed out those with lower income than themselves."
Maya slouched. "That's…terrible."
"Yeah. What made it worse was that all the victims were wealthy. So that's what definitely broiled Joe." He turned his head to gaze down at the countertop before continuing, his mind wandering in reverse. "That trial was set up to end the very first day. I still can't believe it."
"What happened, Nick?"
"Prosecutor Payne opened with the first murder. What had happened was that an old man named John Whitman was hit with a golf club in his apartment. The golf club had belonged to my client and the trail of blood led from out the door and back to Joe Spencer's room. The records showed that the last one to enter that room was Joe Spencer. It was pretty much a cut and dry case, and the witness the prosecution brought up first confirmed that it was Spencer's golf club."
"What then?"
"Well, during the cross-examination, she claimed that she had seen him move furtively into John's room. She said that she knew it was him because of the red and brown checkered jacket he was wearing. I asked her if she had noticed anything strange about the jacket. She replied that there was a big tear down the right sleeve." Phoenix had a large grin on his face, "…I had the witness right where I wanted her."
He saw Maya's smile and it made him more confident as he told the story.
"I asked if she was sure that she had seen the jacket have a tear in it. She replied that she had. I told her that it couldn't have been possible because he had torn that jacket four days later during a meeting at the Anti-Specialists Campaign.
"I explained to the witness that the jacket was in perfect condition during the first murder. Though she said that she had gone shopping with Spencer that very afternoon, she swore that there was a heavy tear in it. I told her that I had testimonies from participants within the campaign that Spencer had ripped his jacket four days later while on an activist's march. He had begun to cross a crosswalk when the sleeve got caught on a loose screw in the pole. Therefore, that jacket could not have been ripped at the time of the murder."
"Hee, hee, very good deduction Mr. Lawyer," Maya winked. "Who was the witness, anyway?"
"Her name was Judy Summers," Phoenix replied. "She was one of the citizens that lived down the hall from Spencer as well as a friend of his."
"She'd rat on her own friend?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "That's cold…"
"It gets worse, believe me." He straightened his back to begin again, "Anyway, Payne objected again, saying that the jacket was a minor detail. I pressed that it wasn't because of how strongly the witness had talked about it." Phoenix cleared his throat, giving Maya enough time to imbibe his words. "Payne brought up the second murder. Three weeks after the first murder, a woman by the name of Sandy Deets was stabbed by a kitchen knife that belonged to Mr. Spencer. The window had been left opened and canine assistance proved that there was a scent coming from outside Deets' window that led to my client's back window. The infamous jacket that Ms. Summers swore she saw him wearing the first time was found under his bed. Luminol reactions showed that blood had been on that jacket and then washed away."
"Wow…" Maya gawked. "So, it really…was him?"
"No." Phoenix leaned back on his stool, just ever so slightly. "Spencer had an alibi. Two days after the jacket ripped, he took it to a tailor. I went by about a week ago to question the tailor. She told me that the jacket smelled strangely, but she figured that it could've been from neglect of washing it. She also said that she was surprised to see so much hair all over the inside because Spencer didn't have any hair in the first place. I agreed and took some hair samples from her.
"I presented it in court against Payne's next attack. Judy had also claimed to have been a witness to the second murder. I asked why she hadn't contacted the police after that point and she said, 'there wasn't enough proof at the time.' I rolled my eyes at the response, asking if Spencer had, at any time, lent her the jacket. She denied it. The judge was on the edge the whole time. He demanded to know whose hair it was that had been found on the jacket. That's how I got off the first day without trouble."
Maya stared at Phoenix. "You got him off that day because of hair?"
Suddenly, his smile faded. "Well…when you put it that way…"
"That's incredible, Nick! To think that a simple jacket would be so important and hold so many clues!"
Phoenix chuckled. "Yeah, and things started getting more heated after that. Even though I had gotten him off the hook for the first day, there was still the matter of cutting all links from him to the murders. You see, fingerprints on both the golf club and knife were identified to be his. They were slightly smudged, but identifiable enough to make them evidence. I still had some suspicions about my client. And why had Judy been so insistent that that jacket had been torn when she first saw my client enter John's room? It didn't make sense."
"But, Nick…" Maya protested, "…what if the killer had been wearing gloves? Or hadn't touched the part where the fingerprints were found?"
"Exactly. It just didn't seem to add up. That's where's Gumshoe's help came in. He helped me get a look at the murder weapons. When I had them tested for other prints, the results came back negative. Gloves seemed feasible enough, but the awkward grip would limit the ability to attack.
"While I pondered this, Spencer told me that the jacket found under the bed during the second murder had been filed as a lost item by none other than himself. Then it hit me. Blood was on that jacket. Why on earth would the murderer file his own jacket as lost? I'd think that the killer would want to avoid as much attention as possible, including trying to bring up items that had been at the murder scenes.
"I went to investigate Spencer's apartment. He said that he had lost his cardkey somewhere in there a month earlier and had to register for another one. The date of the claim had been four days before the third murder. He hadn't received another card until the next week. Until then, he had to use a guest pass in order to access his apartment.
"I had dropped my own guest pass on the floor and it landed by the base of the bed. When I stooped over to grab it, a shiny object caught my eye. There, stuck in between the mattresses was a solid, white card with bits of dried, crusty blood on the edge. I had it checked and found that it was a guest pass. I thought for sure it was Spencer's, but the results came back that it had been registered to an outsider with the last name, 'Ward.'
"In court the next day, Payne pushed on the three murders. I had formed a theory that an outsider had been committing these crimes using Spencer's coat, keycard, and utensils. The first witness was the same Judy Summers, who was returning to testify about the second murder. I asked if the name 'Ward' meant anything to her. She denied it. I told her that I had sent the hair strands in for testing as well as the murder weapons.
"Then, I presented the bloody keycard. Records showed that the cardkey had been registered on the same day as the third murder. Someone had broken into Abigail Hoffton's room while she was bathing, and drowned her in the tub. Fingerprints were not found on the victim herself, but a small shred of clothing had been found near the sink. It was black, and didn't belong to any of the clothes found in Joe Spencer's dorm. While it didn't rule out the fact that he could've gotten rid of the fabric, Joe said that he spent the four days he had been without a card at a local friend's house. His friend confirmed Spencer's statement, thus, he could not have committed that murder.
"I asked Summers again if she knew anything about the name 'Ward' and the scrap cloth. She denied it. I was certain that I was close in pressing her to the point of squealing, but the judge stepped in. He said that I had to prove that the first two murders did not link Spencer to them before I could try to remove doubt about the third murder. I showed him the hair again, explaining that they had been found on the jacket in Spencer's room. He seemed unconvinced, but then Payne hung himself.
"He told the court that the next witness he had was named 'Ward.' I asked why Summers had lied and Payne claimed that the witness and the next witness were not related. After that, things began to click into place. The reason why Summers had seen the murders, the man named 'Ward,' Spencer's clothes found at every murder scene, Summer's statement about the jacket being torn, and the hair on the jacket. My thoughts were confirmed when Maxwell Ward took the stand, claiming to have seen the third murder.
"Their testimonies were good, but I couldn't understand why it had only been them that had seen the murders. I pointed that out and Payne said that it was possible that the murderer had screwed up. 'Yes,' I had replied, 'but that doesn't change the fact that Ward is an outsider. If he had gotten a guest pass at the time, he would've had to been visiting someone in the complexes, yet we've heard nothing about this from anyone else. How is it that if Ward had seen the murderer and/or the murder, why wouldn't he have told his friend?' And, besides, who was the friend that Ward was staying with anyway?
"By this time, Maxwell Ward was sweating. I pushed him further, saying that a card had been checked in under his name on the day of the murder. The apartment complex policy is that the guest must tell the receptionist what room he or she will be staying in. When I got these records back, they claimed that he had been staying in Judy Summers' room.
"Trial was adjourned after that. I was convinced that I had found out the killers. Judy Summers had been hiding Maxwell Ward for some reason. Even though Joe had only been a suspect during the last three killings, the reason he could not be convicted was because of lack of proof. Half of the things found in his room were only discovered because of the testimonies given by Judy and Maxwell, yet, neither of them had stepped forward until after the fourth killing. Why? Yes, it's true that Joe's card had registered as the last that entered the room, and, yes, it's true that the every trail had led to Joe's window, but those were the only things tying him to the murders. Not even the weapons used were at the scene of the crimes. At that point, the murderer could've been anybody. It wasn't even until Judy and Maxwell spoke up after the fourth murder that Joe was apprehended and his room searched.
"I found out shortly afterwards from Detective Gumshoe that Summers and Ward were cousins, and an abnormal usage of Judy's card had been used during all hours of the night. I figured that she had lent it to him, sneaking him in and out of the gate whenever he needed. Also, those strands of hair were about the length of a normal male head, and seemed to match that of Ward's. Also, Summers claimed to have been friends with Spencer, sometimes borrowing his keycard to get into the gate. Only one thing remained, now.
"The fourth murder, Ann Baxter, had been stabbed with another knife belonging to Joe Spencer. Again, Summers stated to have been witness to seeing Spencer walk in at one in the morning. I knew that I would have to take her down somehow. I had learned that she was supposed to have turned in her keycard the night before the murder because she was getting evicted from her apartment. However, another record of her card showed up the day of the murder and the day after. Everyone thought my client had stolen Summers' card from behind the counter and used it to kill Ann Baxter.
"But that card was never returned. That was the last thing that remained in the trial. If I had found that card, it would solve everything. Ward was still in custody as a witness at that time, too. I went to his house, made my way inside, and began to look for the card. After a while of searching, I found it jammed in between the hinges of his bathroom door, blood on the keycard.
"It was perfect after that. I found important documents relating to bigwigs—both alive and deceased, in Ward's house. The more time I spent there, the more I realized that the killer was none other than Ward himself. Through all of that, I had finally figured out what had really happened in those four murders. In court that next day, Summers was the first witness…again. She testified that her boyfriend worked in the apartment complexes at the Security Center, in charge of handling cameras, cards, and the like. I confronted her and told her that I knew that she and Maxwell Ward were cousins. She had no idea how to respond.
"In that silence, Payne cleared his throat and asked her to testify about the fourth murder, in which she had seen Joe Spencer enter the apartment complexes. Summers said she saw him at one in the morning. I objected, showing her records that said that the last card key entry had been at twelve-thirty, exactly one hour before the murder of Ann Baxter. There had been no sign of an outside break-in, meaning that the intruder had to have come from within the apartments. Now that I think of it, I didn't have proof saying that it couldn't have been a resident, but I already knew that the last cardkey used that night was Judy Summers. Only…that was my trump card and I didn't want to use it yet. I told the court that someone had given the murderer a keycard that allowed him into Ms. Baxter's room.
"I brought up the fact that four murders in a two month period had been too hasty. The reason being was because the murderer was on the verge of losing all access to the apartment complexes. Now, remember when I told you that I had found all of those articles pertaining to bigwigs?" Phoenix waited for Maya to nod. "Well, I realized Maxwell Ward's motive for killing them and framing Joe Spencer. He was gathering valuable information that would give him access to accounting firms, networks, military secrets, and more."
Maya gasped. He cut her off.
"Joe Spencer was an easy target, someone they could frame. They had stolen his keycard, framed him with a guest pass, stole his jacket, knives, and golf club, and linked him to the murders in every possible way. Summers had been so sure of that jacket because she had given it to her cousin to wear, but she hadn't actually seen a tear in it until four days later."
"So she just made that all up to the court, then?"
"Right. But when I showed them the bloodied keycard, it was enough evidence to put them away for good. The blood test that had come back reacted to Ann Baxter's blood. I told them that I had found it in her cousin's house and that, though she had returned her keycard, was able to make her a duplicate in the room where her boyfriend worked. However, she successfully changed the access number to Ann Baxter's room. We questioned her boyfriend, who claimed that he was unaware of this, so he was let go because of a lack of evidence against him.
"I figure then that she had given her cousin the keycard, and that he was the last person to enter a room, which was Ms. Baxter's. That's how those two had been working: duplicating keycards, like Mr. Spencer's in the first case, and sneaking into their victim's rooms. They would've gotten away with it, too, but another thing that made them completely suspicious was how they were the only two witnesses for all of the murders. I guess they didn't think the trial would go so far, so they believed that they could get Spencer convicted with just their testimonies. Anyway, after the trial, the bailiff escorted the two of them out of the courtroom." Phoenix leaned back in his chair, tired. "And that's the end of that."
Maya's mouth was left agape. "Geez, Nick! That story was looong!"
"Told you it would be."
She giggled. "But I'm happy you told it to me, anyway. It was really cool! I'm still your number one fan, Nick!"
He burst out into laughter. "Glad to hear it, Maya. Let me know if you have anymore questions about the case."
She shook her head. "Nah, not right now. I just want to finish my miso ramen." He noticed her eyes were trailing over to the bowl of his pork fillet. He frowned, cupped his bowl, and scooted it away from her.
"Your ramen's over there. This is mine."
"Yeah, but…aren't you getting full? Maybe you should shar—"
"No."
--
Phoenix returned back to the office with an insistent Maya, who asked to help tidy up what the young attorney had left a mess. She swore that "Mia was right!" and that Phoenix would never learn to fend for himself.
"What would you do without me?" she chuckled after giving a long whistle, looking about the room that, she claimed, had fallen to despair.
He tried to ignore the crude remark and personally commended himself on his cleaning habits. Besides, it's not my fault that I have work to do. She's pretty lucky only having to worry about her mountain and her powers. I wish that that was all I had to worry about…
Phoenix retreated into the slumber of his room, awakening it with the flip of a switch, feeding light into every nook and cranny that had once been plagued with black solitude. He looked back into the front room, making sure that Maya was still occupied with whatever it was that she was doing, even if it meant her turning the radio up full blast. The lawyer shut his door to asphyxiate the irritation from random bass beats and screeching electric guitars. What do these kids listen to nowadays!?
To be honest with himself, however, Phoenix really just wanted the time alone. Ever since he had left the burger joint yesterday afternoon, a gripping uneasiness fell over him like a cold blanket, and he could feel shivers crawling up his spine. After that case yesterday…I received these unexpected and terrifying letters. Well…maybe terrifying only to me, but my life is on the line here! I…I have to know who it is that's sending them.
In one hand was that day's newspaper that he had only recently collected from out the door. He had forgotten it was there, what with Maya's unpremeditated arrival and all. Phoenix sat down in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, and leaned back into the softness of the fabric. Flipping back the front page, he began to scan for articles worthy of his attention. Mostly for the business, really. The murder prints are usually what I read first.
There wasn't one, much to his dismay, but there were stories of thefts, break-ins, and juvenile delinquency—all of which were useless to Wright and Co. Law Offices, as far as where his big breaks came from. Robberies were fine to deal with, but he'd much rather have a challenge. He chewed on his bottom lip, turning the page and seeing an advertisement for a new Chinese Restaurant that was opening in town soon. His eyes skimmed over the words and a fancy picture, uninterested. I'm surprised nothing was written about the case yesterday. That was a big case as far as I'm concerned.
Maya was singing to the song on the radio, her voice pitched higher than the actual notes. He cringed, bringing his shoulders up to his ears in pain, the feel of breaking glass clawing at his eardrums and he wondered if the bleeding would stop if he shoved paper towels into them. Phoenix tried the best he could to withstand the agony, his eyes burning into the black font of a huge headline at the top of the next page. His brows arched.
Five Year Murder Spree Finally At A Halt
His attention trailed over the first few words until he suddenly caught himself humming to the same song that Maya was screeching to on the radio.
"Gah!" He buried his face into the paper and began to talk aloud, "Local precincts finally track down apartment complex killer, thanks to the help of the city's defense team…Aww, they could've at least mentioned my name…But this is the article I'm looking for…I think…"
Phoenix continued on, his mouth sloppily forming each word, digesting them into his mind faster than he could read aloud. Then he saw the word "partner." Partner? Don't they mean "accomplice?" She wasn't exactly accused of murder… "Wait a minute…" he looked back up to the headline. "Five years? But…But that can't be. I just took this case a month ago." A five year case with the same pattern of killing? Coincidence? I don't think so. His eyes jumbled over the next set of words and he frowned. "Breaching of local homes…murders of executives with extraordinary standings…Several different cities…" Phoenix threw the paper down. "There's more to this case than I was aware of."
The jarred feeling from within his stomach confirmed his thoughts. He immediately noticed the abnormal increase in his heart rate, pounding so fiercely, he swore it would explode from within his chest. First these letters, and now this article. Are they related? Was Ward's cousin not really his partner, but a temporary accomplice? If that's the case, then I think that there may be another explanation. He briefly glanced at his watch. "Quarter past three. Detective Gumshoe might be down at the precincts." If he is, I wonder if I can reopen the evidence to the case yesterday. There may be a clue regarding this article and the letters I got.
He pushed himself from off of the couch, gave a sharp jerk, and made his way back to the door. Once opening it, he was blown away by the absolute volume of the radio and wondered how on earth Maya could afford to listen to it without going deaf. Nevertheless, he walked past her, not even wanting to attempt to shout over her music. Just as he swung open the front office door, he was relieved when the exploding trumpets (or whatever they were) and crashing drums had ceased.
"Where ya going, Nick?" the curious teenager asked, a duster in one hand and a water pitcher in the other. Phoenix figured she was multitasking because the relativity of the two items were unrelated.
"Uh…down to the crime division where Detective Gumshoe works. I have to close up yesterday's case," he lied. Why do I feel so uncomfortable with sharing my situation with Maya? Well…actually, I feel uncomfortable altogether.
"Aww!" she whined, throwing down the duster and empty pitcher. "Just give me a sec, Nick! I wanna go, too! I haven't seen everybody in so long! Say, whatever happened to Mr. Edgeworth? I'm surprised you didn't say that he was the prosecutor for that case you were telling me about because, for some dumb reason, he's always paired on cases with you and—"
"No," he interrupted, shaking his head. "Not this time."
He flinched. Maya looked as though she were going to cry.
"Niiiiiiiick! Why not?"
"Because," he explained, his tone surprisingly even and low, "I'm only going to be down there for a minute. I don't even think he's working today, anyway."
"But Nick, I came back to see everybody. You're being so selfish!"
"I know, I know." He forced a chuckle and held a hand out in her direction, as though he were silently trying to say, "No hard feelings." "Tomorrow, Maya. I promise."
There was a pregnant pause between the two and Maya stared at him, incredulously. "You…promise?" Maybe it was something weird. Phoenix never had to make simple promises to Maya like this one. "Nick, I…I don't know how to ask this without sounding weird, but…" He watched as she took a deep breath, drawing her shoulders back, and then stood up straight, "Are you feeling all right? You seem very…tense…"
Phoenix forced another laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, as he was unsure of anything else to do, and replied, "Heh, heh, good one, Maya. That seemed more like you were acting weird. I've never seen you that serious, you know?" When he looked back at her, he realized that her face did not share the same humor. In fact, it was completely devoid of emotion. He hastily added, "Why do you ask?"
Her mouth began to gape for a moment, and he could tell that she was preparing a four to five minute speech on what she thought of his behavior. I have to avoid it. I need to get down to the station! As though making it a point to her, he glanced at his watch, faked a sigh, and shrugged his shoulders.
"Ah, I need to get down there or else I'll be late. Say, we'll talk later, okay? Wait around for me." Moving just as fast as he had his tongue, he slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him, and brusquely made his way down the hall. He cringed when he heard a very angry voice.
"Wait up for you!? You just ditched me, Nick! I'll get you back for this!"
His shoulders were slumped. She doesn't mean that… he tried to convince himself, She'll be fine in a while…
Phoenix's stomach churned when he thought of her doing something unkind like…spitting in his coffee or…dipping his keys into bacon grease. Something mean and nasty along those lines.
--
"Back again, pal? What for this time?"
The lawyer presented him with another envelope. "This, Detective Gumshoe."
Gumshoe looked at the spiky-haired attorney, puzzled, curved up one side of his lip, and took the letter. "Hmm…another one?"
"You catch on fast."
The detective pulled open the letter, tossed the empty envelope onto his desk, and unfolded the paper. "You and your secret admirers, pal. What's it say now?"
Phoenix wasn't sure if the detective had wanted him to answer the question, since he already had the letter in hand, so he didn't. Gumshoe's face was hidden behind the note, and the younger man watched as he nodded once, stalled, and then threw the note down.
"Pal! Have you been watching your back!? This letter means business! Turn around a moment and let me see if anything's there!"
Phoenix resisted the urge to facefault. His brows evened into a straight line and his eyes narrowed. "Detective Gumshoe…I don't quite think that that's what the letter is implying."
"Oh."
"And I just recently found out that these letters are a week old. I guess something's wrong with the post office."
"So you're…just now getting these letters?"
"That's right."
Gumshoe's eyes vacillated back and forth between Phoenix and the letter on the desk. "Let me guess…You want to check for fingerprints?"
"If it's not too much trouble."
"Not at all, pal." He turned and left the room.
Biting his lip, Phoenix cocked his head slightly, watching Gumshoe leave. He wondered if the detective would find anything this time. The culprit had to mess up somewhere. Phoenix glanced around his desk, trying to find something to catch his curiosity. It's still as unorganized with papers as ever. Guess it fits his personality. Hmm…other than that, it's pretty clean.
Leaning down over the desk, the lawyer chuckled as he realized that he could see his own reflection against the burnish of the wood. He made an exaggerated exhale of breath onto it, took his fist, and rubbed the fogged place in circles a few times. Yup, he takes extra good care of it. I guess this is why Edgeworth's desk always looked this polished. Then, a sudden pain struck him and he quickly looked away from the desk.
His eyes wandered over to the faded black and white metal nametag sitting on the surface. Scrutinizing it more meticulously, his mouth tugged down at both ends and a single eyebrow quirked as he saw a random assortment of stickers taped onto the plate. All were police related, with some small stickers of a police hat, handcuffs, and… Is that a sticker of the Blue Badger? How on earth were they able to pull that off? The fact that the man had stickers on his nameplate was already more than disturbing. Seeing his obsession with his own creation, the Blue Badger, only exacerbated the feeling.
Turning around altogether to keep his mind off of dead friends and stupid looking mascots created by not too bright detectives, Phoenix leaned back against the desk, trying to focus on his real reason in coming. Sure, I wanted to find out if the person who is sending me these inappropriate letters eventually screws up and has fingerprints on the letter, but I really need that evidence from the Apartment Complex Case back to find out if what I'm thinking is true.
Several more minutes passed, and Phoenix was afraid that he had scared off Detective Gumshoe until the older man walked out of the backroom, waving the letter at the lawyer.
"Pal, you got yourself a smart stalker. Only your prints were found on that letter." Then, giving him a skeptical look, he added, "Are you sure you didn't write the letters yourself?"
Rolling his eyes, Phoenix snatched the letter back from him. "Yeah, like I really have the time to write love letters to myself. Come on, what kind of guy do you take me for?" At the detective's uncertain stare and the opening of his mouth, the younger man cut him off, "…Don't answer that."
He stuffed the letter back into the envelope, readied himself to put it back into his jacket, and then paused. "Say…did you ever test the envelope for fingerprints?"
Gumshoe shrugged. "Wouldn't matter. There are too many fingerprints on it by then to make a clear deduction. Yours, the mailman's, the guys who deliver it to your office…The real goods are what's inside. But, unfortunately, in your case, that would be a negative."
Unhappy with this response, Phoenix brutally stuffed the letter into his coat. "Okay, fine. Listen, there was another reason I came down here today."
"Oh?"
"I was wondering if I could borrow that evidence from the Apartment Complex Case again."
"Huh?" Phoenix jumped backwards as Gumshoe threw himself against his own desk, nearly colliding with the defense attorney's face. "You want what, pal?"
"Eh…" Everyone was staring. The young man's eyes were hesitantly moving about the room, embarrassed to see that all the other detectives had stopped their work to see what the commotion was about. If I had known he was going to react like this, I would've saved the question until later. Or wrote him a letter. "N-Never mind…" he replied, defeated. "F-Forget I said anything at all."
"Oh…no way!" An angry finger was thrust in Phoenix's direction, and it made him jolt back even further, his face flushing beet red. "You don't make a request like that and pretend for it to be nothing. I could lose my job over something like that! I nearly did…once before…and that was your fault, too!"
"I…uh…I'll be going now…" The attorney turned slowly on one foot, shoving his hands into his pockets, and began to whistle to the tune, "Alouette, gentille Alouette." Everyone was still watching, their eyes beady and full of curiosity. Phoenix wished he could curl up into a little ball and disappear.
"Now, hold on just one minute, pal! Before you go taking off like that—"
"Everyone's staring, Detective."
Phoenix looked back at him, eyes emotionless, though his quivering lip betrayed his true feelings (Gumshoe didn't catch it), and he waited for the older man to sit down.
"I…uh…" Given some time to think about it, the lawyer figured the detective felt rather mortified now, his head lowering down to match the level of his shoulders. After a few moments, the other detectives lost interest and turned away. "Sorry you had to see me like that, pal."
Phoenix felt the situation safe for a moment and hesitantly decided to venture back to Gumshoe's desk. He pulled his hands out from within his pockets, placed them palm up, on the surface, and leaned forward.
"Look, I think I have an idea of where those letters are coming from. According to an article I read, Maxwell Ward had an accomplice in his murders for the last five years. I just wanted to check the evidence again to see if I could confirm the claim."
Gumshoe shrugged. "What piece of evidence would prove that point, pal? Without formal proof, I can't allow for you to take anything out of that locker."
"I think some of those articles I found at Ward's place might be proof enough. If I can take another look at the stuff found in his shack, I might be able to tie them to an accomplice. If that's the case, I think I can pin the letters on him. Satisfied, now?"
The detective rolled his eyes in a slow circle and Phoenix wasn't sure if Gumshoe was skeptical or not. He was suddenly taken aback as the older man jumped up, a smile on his face, and said, "All right, pal. You have my permission. I'll take you to the evidence room myself. You remember the one down at the police station?"
Phoenix groaned. "You mean…the one from the case against Gant?"
"That's the one. Remember, that division is for violent crimes. I'd say that that last case was pretty violent, pal. So, anyway, since I was the head detective of that case, I'll be happy to escort you down there. Of course, I'll have to ask that you give back that evidence as soon as possible. If the Chief found out, it would be my neck."
Phoenix looked away from Gumshoe, wondering if this had been a good idea after all.
Not all the detectives had stopped staring.
--
Phoenix walked into Wright and Co. Law Offices half past four, carrying an envelope about as thick as a dictionary. He was worried, remembering that he had left Maya on a bad note. At first, he saw no one inside, but he had to admit that Maya's desk looked spotless now. The only thing running was the small fan in the corner of the room. He figured that she must've turned it on. We're in fall and she's hot? …Very strange.
He was just about to call out her name to break the silence when a blurry figure burst through the door that led into his office. Maya doubled over, a rather large grin plastered on her face. Her hands were on her knees and she was hunched, as though she were trying to catch her breath. Concerned, Phoenix was about to help her up when she suddenly straightened her back and threw her arms out to the side.
"Nick!" she cried.
"What?" his voice swayed, a mixture of worry and annoyance locked in between each other.
"Why didn't you tell me that you were going to have company over!? I would've cleaned your office!"
His face scrunched and his eyes narrowed. "I'm not expecting anyone over…"
She apparently didn't hear him. "I mean, I open the door and this guy is standing there and he's all 'is Phonics around?' and I ask 'who?' and—"
"Phonics? Who's that?"
"Beats me, but anyway, he tells me that he knows a Phonics Wrong and I say, 'oh, you mean Nick?' and he says 'that's right,' and I let him in and he looks around and—"
"Maya, you're talking way too fast. What's his name?"
"And he sees the cell phone strap on my desk and says, 'oh, you like Pink Princess, too, huh?' and I can't believe it! I mean, when I saw him, I knew he had to be related to you, but way more cooler, ya know?"
"Gee…thanks." Phoenix brushed past her, disengaging himself from his blue jacket. "So where is he now?"
She gestured to the door behind him. "In your office, of course."
His eyes widened as he put the coat on the coat rack. "What!? That's my office!"
"Yeah, but…we were talking about the Pink Princess and he said that it was on and that he had never missed an episode since it first aired, even though they've cancelled it now…" Maya saw the angry look on her partner's face. "It's over, now, Nick. You can go in and talk to him if you want."
"If I want!? It's my office! Of course I'm going to go in and see who it is!" He jerked his body and tore the door open. His eyes were clouded with infuriation and his mouth was twitching.
There, leaning back in his recliner, with his feet propped up on his desk, eyes glued to his mini television, was a man with dark hair, turned away from Phoenix. Maya poked her head in, looking around the lawyer, with a big grin on her face. For a moment, no one spoke. Then, Phoenix heard the recliner groan under the man's shifting weight.
"Geez, that was the best episode of Pink Princess, yet," the man said, his voice deep and tinged with a mild accent. "Of course…the best part would be if they would add the Steel Samurai into it, too. Those two together would be awesome." A slight chuckle escaped from the back of his throat. "They should've made me the director of Global Studios. Not that…Salisbury Steak guy…"
"Sal Manella," Phoenix inattentively corrected, trying to keep his voice even and well tempered.
"Hey, Nick!" Maya whispered with an excited twinge. "You remembered the director's name!"
Phoenix ignored her as he waited for the other man to turn around, his hands clenching into fists. It took a moment, and the lawyer was losing patience. The man leaned forward to turn off the television, and then spun himself in the swivel recliner before halting, face revealed. He was an older man, probably in his late twenties to early thirties. He had raven hair that was pulled to the back in small spikes. Over his right eye, a glob of hair that was too thick to be considered a cowlick stuck out, almost in an unkempt manner. In his left ear was a silver post, reflecting against the incandescent lights on the ceiling above. His friendly, rust colored eyes twinkled with the same brightness, and his mouth stretched with such a warm smile, that it made Phoenix almost forget his anger…almost. Phoenix could have sworn that the face was somehow familiar, but…how? He could feel that there was a memory there…teasing him—something he couldn't quite remember.
The man scratched his unshaven chin and used the other one to dust off imaginary lint from his blue v-neck. His eyebrows were thick and lifted upon the sight of Phoenix and Maya.
"Phonics! How long has it been?"
Then, all at once, it hit him. He couldn't believe it. No…NO! He gasped, staggering backwards into Maya. It can't be! "Y-You're…!" Maya had to catch him, and he heard her grunt slightly under his weight as she pushed him back to his feet.
The man chuckled. "You look as though you've seen a ghost," he remarked, standing to his feet and stretching his back. "Then again, I can't blame you. It's been what? Eighteen years? I don't expect you to remember me."
"C-Cameron!?" The lawyer's jaw dropped to the ground and he nearly fell forward until Maya reached around him and pull him back to an upright position.
The man named 'Cameron' bowed. "In the flesh, Phonics."
Phoenix's mind shut down. This was too much on top of everything else going on in his life, and now…he was back. The anger returned. "It's Phoenix! Gosh! I mean, I know grandma told me that you were still suffering from the accident, but since you were fifteen? How long does a temporary brain concussion last?"
Before Cameron could respond, Phoenix heard Maya gasp behind him.
"Nick, you mean…you know this guy!? Is he like…a friend of yours?"
The lawyer paused, clearing his throat, and looked from her to the man before him, who was still grinning as wide as ever. Phoenix still couldn't believe he was really there. Why? How? And, just for once, could he get his name right, for crying out loud? "Know him? I can't believe he's even standing in front of me! I—"
"Don't be so brutally honest, Nox." Cameron blew the loose fringe from his eye. It was a futile attempt and it landed back in the same spot. "Mary here told me that you already have to be that way in court."
"Maya," Phoenix absentmindedly corrected before Maya could get the chance to. "And that's what I want to know about, Cameron. I lost contact with you eight years ago when Mom moved away to…God knows where. Grandma moved two years ago, so I don't see how you would be able to get into contact with her. So the real question is…how did you find me?"
The man laughed. "Ha! Always so presumptuous. Thinking I came out here all this way to find you…" Cameron rubbed his chin again. "Well, actually, I did. See…I heard that you're a pretty famous defense attorney, Nox. Took me a while to find you, but someone finally let out the scoop."
Phoenix's eyes widened and he blinked several times, the announcement catching him off guard. "Who said that?"
"Huh?" Cameron appeared just as off guard as the lawyer did. "Well…I…uh…just people, ya know? Can't remember them. Could've been the baker or something…"
Phoenix rolled his eyes. That temporary memory loss will never heal, I see. "Very well, Cameron. What brings you here?"
The older man looked offended. "What? I spend all this time coming out here, and you make it seem like I'm burdening you? Geez, thanks for the hospitality, brother."
"B-Brother!?" Maya shrieked. Phoenix had to cuff his ears for the moment. "He's actually your brother, Nick!?" Then, she pouted, "You never told me about him!"
The defense attorney was sure that Cameron was going to take even more offense to it, but, strangely, he just let it roll off his back. "Typical Nox, ya know? Yeah, we're brothers. Guess he forgot about me, what with the eighteen year separation and all…" Cameron cleared his throat, "Took some time off. Found you and figured that I'd come here to see you."
"Eh…" Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck. "That's…very…kind of you, Cameron…" The current situation with the letters kept poking at him and he cursed Cameron for not choosing a better time to show up. Why now of all times? Eighteen years and he decides to show up today? Phoenix thought bitterly. "How long are you staying for?"
"Heh, couple days, couple months, maybe even a couple years. Who knows? All I know is that I'm staying with you."
"What?" Phoenix wasn't surprised, really. Cameron was always like this. God, all this time and Cameron hasn't changed a bit.
"Hey, you should be honored that I'd want to stay with you."
Phoenix certainly didn't want to offend his brother, but it was such an inconvenience that… "Eh…wouldn't your boss get angry at you? Where are you working, anyway?"
The older man shrugged. "Oh…jack of all trades, really. In fact, the last job I was at said that I could take a permanent vacation because they loved me so much. Sweet of them, don't you think? I need to remember to send them a bouquet of flowers to show my appreciation."
Phoenix wanted to facefault. Uh…Cameron? I don't really think that… "I…uh…" He slumped over, defeated. "This is very…random, Cameron. You could've at least sent a letter…" Like Maya did… "But…I guess you can…stay at my apartment for a little while…"
"Hey, sweet! We'll stay up late and make popcorn and have pillow fights just like we used to!"
"…" We were kids, Cameron…
"Yay!" Maya cheered, clapping her hands together. "You have to invite me over, too! It'll be great!"
"You bet your socks you can come! We'll invite the whole neighborhood, right Phonics?"
…I feel sick…
Phoenix turned, hand at his mouth, and rushed towards the toilet.
--
Please RnR (minus the flames).
Mysterious Loser