Phoenix Wright had been in a good mood all week since the mystery of the Gatewater Hotel had been solved.
His protege Apollo had another win under his belt, for one thing. Kristoph Gavin was condemned to indefinite solitary confinement instead of being returned to the little suite he had set up for himself, for another. He was also pleased to know that Lamiroir had gone through her ordeal with her head high, and no longer had to worry about ne'er-do-wells chasing her.
As he left the bed one morning, giving Franziska an affectionate caress of the cheek as he did so, he walked with the unconscious conviction that there would be another surprise for him. He tiptoed past the childrens' room to get to the foyer, and his prediction was confirmed by another envelope. It was not the same kind he had been sent earlier, no. It was a blue envelope that enclosed a handwritten invitation to the Elg Coffee Shop.
So he sat at the table allotted to him, still astonished at the sight of the three familiar faces.
Mia, Maya, and Iris.
Mia was as proud and stunning as ever, barely minding the strands of grey in her cropped hair. Maya had grown taller and looked stronger, but she still had her warm smile. Even Iris carried herself with more confidence, and her tailored suit was almost a match for one of Franziska's.
He held his coffee cup with both hands, having barely taken a sip of the cappuccino he had been offered. It was odd...he felt confused, energetic, lost, and happy all at once. Through all his wild emotions, he kept up with Maya's incessant but earnest recap of what he had missed.
"And Iris is actually dating again! Some artist or painter who wants to get into children's books!"
Iris gave a slight smile and nodded primly.
"And Mia is still going strong with her own man!"
Mia chuckled. "He's more sparing with his energy, but we can do anything together."
Phoenix put his cup on the table. "You said he was injured? Is he alright?"
"Better than before. His treatment has proved effective so far. At any rate..." Mia shook her head. "I am so sorry we have all gone our separate ways. I cannot imagine what life has done to you."
Phoenix thought of Franziska, and smiled. "It's had as many ups as downs."
Maya scarfed down her pumpkin bread. "But know you can get your badge back, right?"
Phoenix looked impulsively to wear his left lapel would have been, had he been wearing a suit and not his sweatshirt.
"Maybe..." He paused. "Maybe."
"We could get all the books and stuff you need!" Maya beamed.
"Maybe even...mock trials?" Iris shrugged. "Franziska could help, too..."
It was 9 p.m.
Manny Coachen turned the lock on the doorknob, then primed the electronic lock he had installed above it. Finally, he fitted the chain latch that he had set up above that. He had not hired security guards. They could be bribed. He turned and made a quick sweep of the room.
Manny Coachen was the leader of the Red Carnation smuggling ring, and he did not feel safe, not even around his own subordinates. He relayed his orders remotely, and had left the mansion he had spent much of the past decade living in.
He had a smaller residence now, an apartment set into one of the outer city buildings. One main room, one restroom, and one bedroom. He did not talk to his neighbors. He had no need or desire to, and that suited him just fine. He scanned the room again. He spent most of his time here now, so there was almost no way someone could sneak in without him noticing. Even so, he did not want to take chances.
He kept his pistol at the ready as he went to his bedroom. He a futon on one side of the room. His supplies were stocked on the other side; water, canned fruit, jars of pickled eggs, rice, and a crate of coffee beans. Oftentimes, he did not so much as take a trip to the groceries.
Coachen got into his futon, put the safety on his weapon, and put it to the side. He took a deep breath. He had to go over things again. Was the Red Carnation experiencing its share of troubles? Sure. Some dozen arrests? Those scratches could be buffed out. Yes. His underlings making plea deals? Survivable. No one had reached the top of the pyramid, yet. No one had found out about him, the boss.
But as Coachen lay down, the same thought came back, the same question.
How much time do I really have?
There was a spy in the ranks of his organization, undoubtlety, and a high-placed one at that. How else could one explain how everything had gone wrong for him in such a short time? Who could it be? A man like him could not trust anyone in his line of work, but his broad stroke of bad luck protended the first real state of danger he had faced in a long time.
He was staying inside. He had everything he needed. He had middlemen to carry out orders. He had more than enough funds to recruit an army of lawyers, if need be. And he had a sanctuary surrounded by indifferent neighbors.
But how long could his sanctuary remain a sanctuary?
-A multi-chapter story; Chapter 23; story idea by CRed1988 and writing by Jerviss.
