Holly shoved the change into her pocket; gripping the handle of the cardboard drink container, she pushed out of Starbucks in a hurry. She crossed the lawn to a poorly painted crosswalk. She slammed her fist into the button and waited. A few cars crawled through the light as she stood there, furiously tapping her foot. Across from the light was a park, if one could call it that. The small island of grass was barely big enough to fit three park benches, yet somehow was home to an old swing set, rusted and bent with heavy marks of graffiti carved in the steel. Sitting comfortably on the swings were Westly and Olenick, slowly talking to each other like old friends. The little white man flickered on and she trotted across the street to the two of the them. Pinching one of the cups she handed it to Westly who grinned as he took it. She handed the other one to Olenick who took it with a nod.

“Thank you,” he grunted, slowly sipping on the lid before realizing that he was drinking the wrong end.

Westly nodded to her.

“Why don’t you tell her what you told me,” he said softly.

Holly took the last drink and Frisbeed the tray into a battered trash can close to the swing. Taking a big gulp of coffee, she crossed her arms, and leaned against the swing.

“I know who killed my boy,” he said, mumbling against the lid.

“Who?” She asked sharply.

“My other boy…Brandon.”

The words landed against Holly as a shock. She assumed it was one of Pike’s people or possibly even one of the War Wolves.

“How can you be sure?” She asked.

“Because he told me, some day he would kill that boy if he ever felt he was a threat to his inheritance. My wife and I took him to therapy when he was six because he cooked a nest of baby birds alive, just threw them on the burner, still in the nest. The twigs burst into flames and the poor creatures were burned into nothing. He smiled while he did it.”

Holly flashed a look at Westly, trying to hold in her disgust. Olenick continued.

“The therapist said he was showing signs of being a high functioning psychopath. His mother couldn’t handle it and just surrounded herself with anything that made her not notice him. My siblings put on airs, but they were afraid of him. We tried taking him for another session and…let’s just say Brandon didn’t like the implication. I was talking with a clinic in Grand Junction as a possible place for him. But then he does this…I just wanted to stall the police long enough to make sure he had the best treatment possible.

“You staged the killing to make it look like Pike?” Westly asked.

“No, I assumed Brandon did that to throw suspicion that way and I figured why disprove the claim, it’s not as if the world would be losing a saint. Then you showed up and got in my way! Now that Pike knows he was set up he will be looking for who did it!”

Holly took another swig from the cup.

“Then why did you hire REI investigations?”

“I didn’t, my butler Anthony hired you lot as a “gift.” I just hoped it would be a photo op for your business.”

Westly and Holly shared glances of concern.

“Anthony told us you were reluctant to hire us but needed answers,” Westly said coldly.

“Why would he do that? I told him…Brandon put him up to it.”

Olenick sipped his tea and stared forward. Westly leaned in and patted him on the shoulder.

“Why don’t you let me and Holly discus what the next course of action is. Stretch your legs a bit.”

Olenick nodded, standing up from the swing, and walking a few feet to the end of the lawn. Holly filled his vacant swing and bit her lip at Westly with a long sigh.

“What do you think?”

“Very Cain and Abel.”

“You think he’s full of shit?”

“To the untrained eye, Sunshine and Hunter’s Moon look nearly identical. Except for those who have worked with the War Wolves. If Brandon wanted to frame Pike, he would have used Sunshine but instead he used Hunter’s Moon to kill his brother thus framing the Wolves.”

“So?”

“So, if I wasn’t brought in the police would just assume Sunshine and go after Pike but I tipped off Myron who in turn tipped off Pike.”

“You think Pike framed himself?”

“I don’t know but whoever is working with Pike has been one step ahead of me. Make me think they know my movements. It also would explain how Pike and his goons knew where I was.”

“What, like a bug?”

“I was thinking of a rat, but a bug could work. We all should check our pockets and consoles. Where is Oliver?”

“He is trying to track down Turnip to see if can give us anything. Speaking of which, what did he tell you before Pike’s boys nabbed you?”

“Nothing that is of any interest or helpful. Okay, go grab him we need to figure out the next move.”

Holly nodded and walked over to Olenick. As soon as she was out of ear shot, Westly reached for his phone and dialed.

“Oliver you still looking for Turnip…Scratch that come pick me up at the swings off of Colfax we are going to pay someone a little visit…Can’t over this line someone might be tipped that we are coming…Just get your ass down here.”

He clapped the phone shut and stuffed it into his pocket.

Holly returned with Olenick.

“Do you know Detective Buckley of DPD?” Westly asked Olenick.

“No.”

“I might have some leverage to get Brandon psychiatric treatment instead of prison, that’s only if you get him immediately so the Wolves and RMCA can be aware this whole ordeal had nothing to do with either of them. This is a onetime offer and I can’t promise this will still be open tomorrow.”

Olenick shook his head, his gruff, angry face starting to return.

“That is my son you are talking about I won’t-”

“I know you aren’t stupid enough to think Pike is going to stop at that little warning. As far as he is concerned, you killed your son and set him up because you were worried about retaliation for the land deal. You can’t reason with this man, so he needs another villain. Unless you don’t believe Brandon is guilty, I don’t see you having another option.”

Olenick stepped toward Westly as if he was going hit him when Holly stood in his way.

“This is what you wanted. Brandon to get the help he needed. No more violence.”

Olenick nodded.

“Very well. But only if you can guarantee your Detective Buckley can follow through.”

“Trust me he has no intention of disappointing me,” Westly said with a grin.

Westly hopped off the swing and extended his hand, which Olenick shook reluctantly.

“Holly do you mind traveling with Olenick here back to his estate to collect Brandon? I feel the other members of his family will not be too keen on seeing me. Buckley will meet you guys there. Oliver will pick me up and we’ll meet up with you and Buckley at his precinct.”

“You sure?” Holly inquired.

Westly nodded.

“Let me get my car,” she said softly.

She crossed the street back towards the Starbucks. As soon as she was out of ear shot, Westly grabbed Olenick’s elbow.

“One more time. Just so I am clear. Lucas Yan has nothing against you?”

Olenick broke free of his grasp.

“As I said, Yan pulled out of the deal. I had drawn up the paperwork to sell him the land when he said he got a better offer. What, do you have issue with Yan?”

“And you never met anyone by the name of Jet?”

“No…” he growled.

Holly pulled her Malibu to the curb.

“Anything else Straight Razor?” Olenick snapped.

Westly shook his head.

Olenick stepped into Holly’s car, glaring one more time at Westly as the car pulled away.

Westly reached into his pocket and retrieved a small wooden box. Slowly opening it, he pulled out a very tightly wound blunt. Lighting up the small end, he coughed slightly as the initial high began to flow through his blood. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as the chill began to climb. He hoped he was wrong, but way things were unfolding his hopes were slowly falling away. His gray Supra pulled up and he stepped into it, slamming the door shut.

Taking in another large gulp of the weed he looked over at Oliver who was gripping the wheel tightly, refusing to look over at him.

“He’s not picking up,” Oliver said sheepishly.

“No shit,” Westly coughed.

“You seem to be holding up well considering-”

“Who the hell do you think tipped them off that I was in Genesee? Lot of land around Denver yet Pike knew I would be there? No…someone tipped him off.”

“You sure it is Lucas? Maybe-”

“I know you are worried about Amos, but Lucas isn’t after you alright?”

“I don’t get why? Why would Lucas go to all this trouble just to screw with Olenick?”

“I don’t get it either. Was there anything about the type of land in Buckley’s file?”

“No just commercial land, there isn’t even anything developed on it. Which is why Lucas might just be an innocent bystander to whatever Pike and Olenick were concocting.”

“Well according to Olenick his son Brandon killed the boy.”

“What why?” Oliver gasped.

“Apparently, the kid is a psycho.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you buy it?”

“I would, if not for the Hunter’s Moon.”

“What do you mean?”

Westly coughed further as he inhaled more and continued.

“I feel that was for my benefit. Only people who knew I had knowledge of the difference between Hunter’s Moon and Sunshine were Myron and Lucas and I doubt Myron would want to implicate himself.”

“So, you are dead set on Lucas cause you think that the kid was killed by Hunter’s Moon for your benefit? That seems a little arrogant don’t you think?”

“No, it was Brandon that tipped me off to the drugs in the first place which made me suspect Pike. Once I saw the area I thought about Myron. If just the police looked at it, they would have gone to Pike but because I tipped off Myron he went after Pike as well, making Pike forced to retaliate against Olenick. Only problem is he didn’t.”

“Why is that problem?”

“Cause if Pike didn’t harm Olenick. Lucas didn’t get what he wanted…” Westly said his voice trailing off.

“I think you are overthinking it. Isn’t it more likely Brandon killed his brother and framed Pike to cover his tracks, knowing the police would look into his father’s associates? Maybe he didn’t know the difference between Hunter’s Moon and Sunshine.”

“Maybe,” Westly said distantly.

They fell into a silence. The type of silence that is not peaceful but neither party has anything of value to say but wishes the other party did have something of value so there wouldn’t be silence. Oliver tapped the wheel nervously, looking back in the mirror more than usual.

“Pike isn’t following us,” Westly mumbled.

“How can you be sure?”

“Trust me, he lacks the ability to be inconspicuous.”

Oliver pulled the Supra off I-25 on Exit 199 which quickly turned into a compact office park. The trees were grouped neatly in a zigzag fashion, flowing with the curve of the road. Almost immediately as they entered the park on the right was a large, cold, blue and silver sign cemented into the lawn like a modern idol. The sign read “Welcome to Century Tundra Technologies Office Park.” They continued down the small road past the cluster of chrome, black, and blue office buildings slowly closing in around them like a passive threat. As the buildings and the trees tightened, the road bottlenecked to a single lane that flowed into an aboveground tunnel. The tunnel opened up on a vast parking lot in front of a giant, white, shimmering building. In the front of the building was a fifteen-foot black marble statue of a woman reaching up to the sky touching a golden sphere. Her left foot was submerged in a large marble fountain of white blue to give the illusion of the sea. Her hair was green, purple, and blue, curling and spiraling around her down to her feet. With the backdrop of the white building and the black marble of her skin, the green, purple, and blues gave the perfect façade of the aurora borealis.

Oliver parked the car in one of the visitor spots and the two of them made their way to the building. As Westly passed the statue he inhaled one last drag of his blunt before flicking it into the fountain. They pressed through the foggy glass door at the front of building opening into an open lobby which was colored green and blue with cold lighting. At the far end of the lobby was a large white helpdesk with several women working behind it of different ethnicities, yet everyone one of them could have been on the cover of Vogue. They were all dressed in cerulean blue pencil skirts and white blouses with black chop sticks holding their hair together.

Westly pushed past Oliver and walked up to the desk and coughed a large puff of marijuana smoke.

“I need to see Lucas Yan.”

“May I ask who is inquiring?” She responded in a blank monotone.

“Tell him the it’s the man who going to prove he’s a child murderer.”

He turned to the rest of the lobby.

“Just so everyone heard me. I am going to prove Lucas Yan is a child killer!”

“SIR!” She snipped before catching her words.

She pushed a fake smile at him.

“Please have a seat. I will page Mr. Yan.”

“Sure,” Westly said reluctantly.

He dragged his feet over to a shimmering white chair and flopped into it. Oliver reluctantly sat next him.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Lucas isn’t going to see us, but this way he has to send someone to address the situation. Perhaps we can get something out of that person.”

Oliver rubbed his face.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

Westly leaned forward in his chair and slapped Oliver on the knee.

“Look at this place? It’s a shrine, for every idiot that Lucas can dupe. He didn’t dupe you.”

“And look what good it got me. Amos would kill me if he knew I was here.”

“Answer me honestly. Doesn’t it piss you off that this guy can hide here, thriving on money, and excessive playthings after what he did to Amos?”

Oliver clenched the chair, digging his hands into the upholstery.

“More than I could describe.”

“So, help me beat this son of bit-”

The back wall appeared to be completely solid until two of the panels opened, revealing a hidden elevator. A man stepped out. He was obviously Asian though his height was taller than most. He was dressed entirely in a black suit with cold blue pinstripes. His face was covered in a thin shapely bead and his hair was tied back tightly into a ponytail. Westly scoffed at seeing him.

“I should have known. Jet Matsui. What, did you and Lucas bond over shared heritage?”

The man walked up to Westly and handed him a letter.

“I believe you have me mistaken with someone else Straight Razor. Mr. Yan offers his apologizes as he is quite busy today, but he send his regards. Please.”

The man pointed to the letter with a soft grin. Westly opened the letter. His face curled into a snarl. The man smiled and started walking back to the elevator. Westly leapt out of his chair.

“You son of bitch! He knows he is putting his own daughter in danger. Jet! Hey!”

Jet stepped into the elevator with one final flip off the door closed. Westly started toward the desk when Oliver caught his arm and whispered to him.

“Look around he wants you to do something violent. What does the letter say?”

Westly tore the letter in half.

“Someone poisoned Freedom Pike, Zackary Pike’s daughter. Pike has only one person in mind who would do such a thing and Holly is with him right now.”