Sitting in Regal's office, Mox flashed back to his middle school years when it seemed he was hauled into the Principal Danton's office for one bullshit reason or another. A few times, Roman had been hauled in with him. But he doubted Seth had ever done anything (real or perceived) to warrant a visit to the Danton's office. He'd been much too afraid of his uncle's reaction for that to happen.

"Well, gentlemen, in my opinion, this first round with Mr. Austin went rather well," Regal began as he sat down behind his desk. "Mr. Rollins, you held up well against Mr. Austin's threat of RICO."

Roman frowned. "He threatened Seth?"

"Advised is the word Mr. Austin used, but the intent was obvious," Regal snarked.

"He's got nothing," Seth firmly spoke. "He as much as admitted it."

Regal nodded in silent agreement. "However, Mr. Austin did have a point we need to discuss. I represent all of you. If, for some reason, we go to Court and the three of you have to stand trial separately, the prosecution could petition to force me to represent only one of you because of a perceived conflict of interest."

Mox immediately pointed to Roman while Seth pointed at Mox. Roman sat with his hands folded in his lap, a slight smile on his lips.

"Alexa would not be permitted to represent Mr. Moxley because of their relationship," Regal continued. "In fact, none of the attorneys from my office could represent two of you. I could, however, recommend several other attorneys for your representation." He noticed that none of the men sitting across from him looked happy about that option. Frankly, neither was he.

"How likely is it that we'd all face separate trials?" Roman calmly asked.

Regal smiled. "That actually works in our favor. Very rarely will the prosecution agree to a separation. It has happened before; but almost always there's the additional cost of multiple trials to be considered. Ps after the first trial, the defense has seen all the prosecution's cards. When it does happen, it's because one of the defendants has turned State's Evidence."

"That is not going to happen," Seth firmly stated.

"No way in hell," Mox muttered.

Roman silently nodded in agreement.

"Although the risk of separating you for multiple trials is minimal, I felt I had to advise you of the possibility. I honestly don't think we have anything to worry about in that instance. Now, gentlemen, is there anything else you want to tell me about this 'alleged incident' at the bookstore?" Regal calmly asked.

After a few seconds, Seth shook his head. "No. There was no confrontation in the bookstore that night with The Miz or anyone else. And there's no proof it ever happened at all."

Roman shrugged. "All I know is what Mox and Samoa Joe said to the cops in their original interrogation."

"Joe and I didn't get into any fights or anything that night," Mox added. "Well, except maybe a few words exchanged between us when he started trash talking the Bengals."

Regal studied them for a few seconds then nodded with a smile. "Very well, gentlemen. Your statements will be on record once you've signed them."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Chief Malenko, Chief Blanchard of the Des Moines PD is on line 2 for you."

"Thank you," Malenko replied. He counted to three then picked up the receiver. "Yes, Chief Blanchard."

Chief Tully Blanchard crisply spoke. "I wanted to let you know that the investigation into the accusation that Jon Moxley abused or killed his sister, Marie, has been concluded. We've confirmed the child died of a heart defect. Natural causes. I'd appreciate it if you'd pass that onto Mr. Moxley."

"I will," Malenko assured him.

"As for the investigation into the murder of Leah Moxley, that's still an open case."

"I'll let him know that as well," Malenko politely replied. When Blanchard disconnected the call, Malenko allowed himself a sardonic smile. If he had to guess, he'd say that Regal's formal protest had jerked a knot in Blanchard's tail…and Blanchard had passed that on to his detectives. He shook his head and pressed the button on his phone that connected him with his administrative assistant.

"Molly? Get a message to Detectives Cena and Styles that I'd like to see them in my office at their convenience."

"Yes, sir."

Malenko then accessed Jon Moxley's file and found his phone number. Leaning back in his chair, he dialed the number and waited.

Mox and the others were getting ready to leave Regal's office when his phone rang. He pulled it out, then stared at the display. "Someone at the PD is calling me." He glanced at Regal, then answered the phone. "Moxley."

"This is Chief Malenko. I just received a phone call from the Des Moines PD. They've closed the investigation into the allegations of your sister's death and confirmed it was from natural causes. The investigation into Leah Moxley's murder is still open."

Roman frowned at the stunned look on Mox's face.

"Uh…thanks for calling me and letting me know," Mox finally replied.

"You're welcome." Malenko disconnected the call as someone knocked on his door. "Come in."

The door opened and Cena led his partner into the office. "You wanted to see us, sir?"

Malenko nodded. "I got a call from the Chief of he Des Moines PD. They closed their investigation into the death of Marie Moxley and confirmed it was from natural causes."

"I told that stupid bastard Ziggler it was her heart," Styles grumbled.

"I just finished passing that along to Jon Moxley." Malenko managed not to smile at Styles' opinion of the Des Moines detective. "Along with the fact that the investigation into Leah Moxley's murder is still open."

Cena nodded as Styles grunted. "We'll update our notes, sir."

Malenko nodded in dismissal. When the door closed behind the two detectives, he allowed himself a chuckle. He agreed with Styles' opinion.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mox shoved his phone into his jacket pocket. "Ummm…that was Chief Malenko. The Des Moines cops still have Leah's murder investigation open. But they've closed the investigation into the allegation that I abused and murdered Marie. They confirmed she died of natural causes."

"What. Did. You. Say?" Seth hissed. Then he glared at Roman. "You knew about this?"

"The Des Moines detectives returned the late Mrs. Moxley's effects then demanded to question Mr. Moxley," Regal calmly explained. "They, in effect, blindsided him with an allegation supposedly written in a notebook by Mrs. Moxley that her son had abused and murdered her daughter. We theorized she was going to enter the Des Moines courtroom with a fake press pass and make a scene during his testimony at Warden Cole's trial. I got Mr. Moxley away from the Des Moines detectives when they blindsided him and saw that he returned home."

"Don't be mad at Roman," Mox quietly spoke. "I asked him not to tell you because I didn't want you getting mad about it. You wouldn't have been able to keep it from Nikki, and I didn't want her driving to Des Moines to hunt down those two detectives."

Seth snorted. "You're making this up to me. We've having lunch at Salad World. Now. Your treat." He opened the office door and walked out.

Mox groaned. "Shit," he muttered under his breath.

Roman exchanged a quick grin with Regal, then patted Mox's arm. "Come on. Let's see if we can convince him to get a salad at Trieste's."

Regal chuckled when the door closed behind them. While he didn't think Austin stood a chance of flipping one of them against the others, he wasn't sure one of them wouldn't sacrifice himself for the others. And his money would be on Moxley if that happened.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Thank you for being so prompt. I'm Mr. Helmsley's attorney, Titus O'Neil. I presume you're Mr. Austin?"

"DOJ Investigator Steve Austin." Auston shook Titus' hand. "I guess this is your client, Hunter Helmsley."

Hunter stood and stook Austin's hand. For several seconds, they studied one another, then Hunter smiled and sat down.

"This won't take long," Austin said as he and Titus took their seats. "During my investigation here, your name came up, Mr. Helmsley, in connection with Randy Orton."

"In what way?" Titus asked.

"In connection with possible crimes," Austin smoothly answered. "To start, what exactly was your connection with Mr. Orton?"

"Randy was a business associate and adviser," Hunter calmly answered. "He wasn't an employee but worked on an independent contract basis. And he was a good personal friend as well." He stared into Austin's blue eyes. "I lost a good friend when he died."

"His suicide must have come as a shock." Austin leaned back in his chair. "I'm presuming you didn't catch any signs of depression or mental instability."

"A huge shock," Hunter nodded. 'And you're the reason behind it, you bastard," he silently added. "In fact, my wife and I had dinner with him just a few hours before…we saw nothing wrong with him. He laughed at the story my wife told us about one of our daughters. When he left, he said he'd see us the next day."

"You didn't know about any personal issues that might have led to that decision?"

"No. Randy kept his personal life personal."

Austin silently nodded. "Mr. Orton's name came up in connection with an alleged assault at Rollins Bookstore on the night your Casino had it's Grand Opening. Did he mention anything about that?"

Hunter shook his head. "Not at all. In fact, I don't remember him mentioning Rollins Bookstore at all." He slightly smiled. "Randy wasn't much of a reader unless is was in connection with business."

Austin slowly smiled and waited a few seconds. "Well, that fills in some blank spots as far as Mr. Orton is concerned. My investigation is ongoing so I may have some questions later regarding other people."

"My client is a very busy man," Titus spoke up.

"I understand," Austin nodded. "And I'll be as respectful of that as I can. Thank you for coming in, Mr. Helmsley. I'll let your attorney know when your statement is ready to be signed." He smiled again. "My regards to your wife."

'You tell Orton ole' Stone Cold sends his regards.'

Hunter eyes narrowed, and Austin caught a glimpse of the anger in them. Silently, Titus then led him from the interrogation room. Hunter was conscious that Austin was staring a hole in his back.

"That man's dangerous," Titus quietly said as they approached the elevator.

Hunter silently nodded. "Spears must have made a deal."

Titus silently thought as they rode the elevator to the main floor. "Spears would've needed to have some proof of a connection with Mr. Orton. Otherwise, it's just hearsay."

Hunter nodded. "That's what concerns me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Austin took a deep breath before opening the door. He was tired of playing nice. Thankfully, this was the last interrogation for the day. Opening the door, he smiled. "Mr. Morrison, thank you for coming in." He looked around the room. "Do we need to wait on your attorney?"

"I was asked to come in about Mike's murder." John Morrison looked confused. "I didn't think I needed an attorney for that."

Austin closed the door. "Well, you have the right to that attorney if you want him present at any time. I'm DOJ Investigator Steve Austin."

"Nice to meet you," Morrison replied as they shook hands. "How can I help?"

"Let's see, you and Michael Mizanin were partners in your real estate firm. Equal partners?"

Morrison nodded. "We didn't want to be in competition with ourselves. You know, one of us representing a client who wanted to sell a property and the other representing someone who wanted to buy the same property. So, we divided them up. I took the residential accounts, and Mike took the commercial accounts. We divided up any industrial accounts on as much of an even basis as possible."

"So, the business is yours now?"

"Mike's wife would've inherited Mike's share of the business," Morrison explained. "But she'd never expressed an interest in it. Plus, she had a toddler and was pregnant at the time Mike was murdered. I made her an offer to buy Mike's share, and she took it. I also signed over to her the insurance policy Mike and I had on each other. Partners' insurance."

"Pretty generous," Austin pointed out.

Morrison shrugged. "Mike was a good friend as well as a business partner. A hell of a good friend." He glanced away. "Mike stayed a good friend when I went through…a tough period. He made sure I didn't suffer financially while I was working through that time." He met Austin's eyes. "Doing all I could to make sure his wife and children were as financially comfortable as possible was the least I could do."

Austin nodded. "That speaks kindly and well of you." He tapped his fingers on the closed folder in front of him. "Did you ever hear Mr. Mizanin talk about a Randy Orton?"

Morrison frowned in thought for several seconds. "No," he slowly answered. "At least not that I remember. Unless one of us had a difficult client, we didn't talk actual specifics about them. But I can look through our client records and see if he's there."

Austin waved a hand. "If that's needed, I'll get a warrant. My information is that he wouldn't necessarily have been a client but someone in connection with possibly a client or deal."

Morrison thought again, then shook his head. "I'm sorry. The name isn't familiar."

"Is Mrs. Mizanin still in Davenport?"

"No, in fact, she returned to Canada right after Mike's funeral," Morrison explained. "She said she couldn't stay here after…Mike's murder." He slightly smiled. "I always got the impression she didn't really like Davenport."

Austin studied Morrison for a few moments. "Well, thanks again. You've filled in a few holes in my investigation. Someone will let you know when your statement is ready to be signed." He stood and held the door open for Morrison to leave. He watched as the other man walked to the elevators, then turned and headed for the stairs. He wasn't surprised to see Malenko waiting on him.

"Any luck?" Malenko asked, his eyes flicking to watch Morrison disappear into the hallway.

"Tossed out some bait. Put some cats in the pigeons." Austin shrugged. "We'll see what happens next. Gonna get these statements transcribed and see what comes up with that."

"And Helmsley?" Malenko probed.

Austin shrugged. "He knows why Orton committed suicide. And he's laying it at my door." Then he grinned. "That cat may bring back a nice fat pigeon."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Toni Storm had several properties scattered throughout the New Orleans area although none of them had her name on the deeds. She rarely spent more than two nights in any of the properties, traveling with her security detail, chef, and maid between properties she randomly chose. Tonight, she was entertaining Jay White in her Garden District home and hoped The Switchblade would be spending the night.

White raised a sardonic eyebrow at the elegance of the dining room. Mahogany wood paneling with gold accents on the walls plus the marble dining room table told him Toni had spent a lot of money on this place. As he took his seat, he mentally contrasted the Garden District house with his comfortable beach cottage in the Bahamas and wouldn't have traded the beach house for this monstrosity of Toni's ego. He managed not to laugh when Toni rang a small dinner bell to summon the chef.

"Good evening, Madam…Sir."

"Good evening, Paul," Toni coolly nodded. "What do you have for us tonight?"

The chef, Paul Roma, was pushing one of the service carts to Toni's place at the table. The other was pushed to White's side by Toni's maid, Indy Hartwell.

"I am pleased to serve Shrimp Remoulade with a Bisque soup along with Chicken Creole with red beans and rice and an antipasto salad," Roma quietly spoke as he and Indy deftly set the food on the table. "The wines I have chosen are an off-dry Reisling and a Pinot Noir. Desert will be Beignets with Creole cream cheese and traditional Banana pudding."

Toni nodded in approval. "I'll ring when you can bring out the deserts." She looked at Indy who'd started to push the service cart away from the table. "We'll be leaving around noon tomorrow, Indy. Lay out my forest green dress with the matching necklace. And polish my black heels."

"Yes, Madam." Indy obediently nodded and pushed her cart back to the kitchen.

Roma silently waited for Toni to choose the wine. He saw her glance at White who shrugged.

"We'll have the Reisling," Toni decided as they began to eat.

Roma opened the bottle and deftly poured two glasses of wine and set them in front of Toni and White.

"This Bisque is excellent. So is the shrimp," White said with a note of surprise in his voice.

Toni nodded. "Our compliments, Paul. That will be all."

"Yes, Madam." Roma nodded then pushed his service cart back to the kitchen. When he reached the kitchen, he looked around. "Where's Indy?"

Rick Martel, the head of Toni's security detail, nodded towards the ceiling. "Madam's bedroom," he sardonically answered. "Said she'd be back in about five minutes."

Roma nodded. "That should be enough time."

Both White and Toni quickly finished the Bisque soup and started in on the rest of their meal.

"What's your next step?" Toni asked.

White shrugged. "Depends on when The Tarot Clubopens again. You're sure they'll put some other broad in Scarlett's place?"

Toni nodded and absently flexed her fingers. "That's the focus of the club. Deal tarot cards to the suckers while the high priestess looks on."

"No luck finding that Lynch woman?"

Toni shook her head. "She probably got out of town before the cops put out her description. Helmsley's gotten her far away by now."

White shrugged again. He reached for his glass of wine, then hissed when his hand fell to the table with a light thud.

Toni glanced at him and saw him staring at his hand. She reached out for the dinner bell, but her arm refused to move.

"What the fuck…" White muttered. He struggled to move…to get to his feet…but his body refused to obey him.

Toni whined as she realized she was paralyzed as well.

Neither of them were able to speak again.

White was the only one who saw Roma walk back into the room and study them. Then, with a satisfied nod, he turned and walked away.

'Bloody hell! Didn't this bitch keep an eye on her people? Or were they ever her people?'

Roma walked back into the kitchen and nodded at Martel. As Indy walked back into the kitchen, carrying a small jewelry box, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. "Ready," he spoke then ended the call. Silently, he walked out the door and down the driveway to the guard shack.

Indy looked down the hallway towards the dining room. "It's done?" She asked. When Roma silently nodded, she smiled in grim satisfaction.

Martel opened the door to the guard shack. The guard looked up and grinned. "You forgot my coffee." He turned his attention back to the street where a limousine was turning into the driveway.

"Sorry about that." Martel pulled out his silenced gun and put a bullet in the back of the guard's head.

Without a word, the dead guard fell out of his chair and onto the floor. Martel walked to the desk and activated the controls to open the gate. Then he walked outside and waited when the limousine stopped. A window rolled down, and Priest looked up at Martel.

"All is ready," Martel promised. "The dining room in on the main floor in the back of the house. Overlooking the gardens." He pointed towards the house. "Part of the driveway runs to the gardens. Take the right fork at the house."

"And the cameras?"

"All footage is sent to the recorder in the guard shack," Martel explained. "The cameras will be disabled and the recorded footage will leave with us."

Priest nodded and rolled the window back up. As the limo slowly drove up the driveway, it was followed by two nondescript black SUVs. Once both cars were beyond the gates, he walked back into the guard shack and closed the gates again. The house sat well back from the street which was used only by the residents. Even though there were no houses facing this one, there was no need in taking a chance someone noticing the normally closed gates had been left open.

Priest and the others casually entered the house from the garden door and proceeded to the kitchen area. As the other men walked to the dining room, Priest turned to Roma. "Your report."

"They are paralyzed due to the…medication I put into the soup," Roma calmly replied. "Both bowls were nearly empty when I checked on them. The bowls as well as the soup pot are in the dishwasher. I'm making a last check to fully load it. It will be put in a double cycle of hottest wash and rinse."

"And the rest of the soup?" Priest asked.

Roma smiled. "There was only enough for the two of them and possibly seconds if requested. The remainder has been dumped into a toilet and flushed several times with a bleach cleansing tab."

Priest turned to Indy who handed him the jewel box. "As ordered, I only took the valuable pieces. I left the costume jewelry and money in the safe."

"How did you get the combination?" Priest curiously asked.

"I managed to be in the closet unpacking her clothing whenever she opened the safe," Indy explained. "She never paid attention to what I was doing."

Priest smirked and shook his head. They stood silently as Priest's men carried the paralyzed bodies of White and Toni through the kitchen and to the waiting SUVs. Then he handed Roma three envelopes. "Airline tickets for the three of you plus your new driver's licenses and other identifications. Give your current ones to the driver. Make sure Martel gets his."

Roma took the envelopes with a respectful nod then started the dishwasher.

"What about your suitcases?" Priest asked.

"In the pantry," Indy said. "She never came to the kitchen much less take a look in the pantry."

Priest chuckled as Roma and Indy removed the suitcases. Indy led the way outside, followed by Roma pulling his and Martel's suitcases. Priest took a last look around the kitchen then quietly closed the garden door.

"When will someone come here?" Priest asked as they to the cars.

"The cleaners will be here early tomorrow afternoon," Indy replied. "She planned to leave around noon."

Priest nodded. It was more than enough time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The cemetery was a very old one with the oldest gravestones going back to the late 1700s. The last time it had been used was during the Great Depression. The grounds were starting to get seriously overgrown and would soon be reclaimed by the surrounding Louisiana foliage.

Over an hour away from New Orleans, they hadn't seen anyone or any lights since leaving the highway. Priest doubted anyone but he remembered the cemetery even existed. So, there was no one to curiously check on why there were so many cars in the rutted dirt driveway leading into the cemetery or the high beam lights from some of the cars that illuminated an open grave.

The crowd was silent as Priest approached the grave followed by men carrying White and Toni.

"All is ready," Buddy Matthews quietly spoke as Priest approached.

Priest barely smiled and nodded.

White was the first one thrown into the grave. Priest saw anger in his eyes and chuckled under his breath. However, he widely smiled when the saw the panic in Toni's eyes just before she was thrown into the grave and half-way landed on top of White. Both of them had no choice but to look up at Priest.

"Switchblade, you were just doing a job," Priest spoke. "But your hand was the one that ended Miss Scarlett's life. So, your life is forfeit. You can thank Toni Storm for the way you're going to die. Toni Storm, you ordered Miss Scarlett's murder. So, your life is ended in this fashion." Priest looked at the gathered crowd. "For Miss Scarlett."

"For Miss Scarlett," was the chanted response.

A low beating of a drum began accompanied by the ominous low humming from the people around the grave. White struggled but was unable to move a muscle…even to shove Toni off of him. As for Toni, she couldn't do more than breathe in panic.

"Ces deux-la se sont reunis pour prendre la vie de l'un de nous. Maintenant, ils vond payer le prix de cette atrocite. Maintenant, leurs ames seront eternellement liees ensemble. Personne ne pleurera leur perte ni ne gardera leur memoire vivante. Ils seront morts et resteront morts pour toujours."

With those words, Priest took a jar from Matthews and opened it. Fine grey powder cascaded over White and Toni. "For Miss Scarlett."

"For Miss Scarlett," came the response.

Priest handed the jar back to Matthews who sealed it. As men began to shovel dirt onto White and Toni, he knelt and stared at both of them.

"Scream if you can. No one will hear you." Priest stepped back and silently watched as the grave was filled in.

"For Miss Scarlett."

'NO! NO! NO!' Frantically Toni tried to scream…to beg for her life…to offer up Authority secrets…to turn her head so dirt didn't land on her face.

"For Miss Scarlett."

White managed a grunt of what might have been furious defiance when a shovel of dirt landed on his head. But Toni was the only one who heard him.

"For Miss Scarlett."

Matthews watched with savage satisfaction as the dirt continued to cover the people in the grave.

"For Miss Scarlett."

Scarlett had been avenged.