The Pilot Mysteries

It’s a pleasure to announce that our firm is releasing our very own serialized mystery series. You read that right. We’ve always valued educating my clients on estate planning, but who says you can’t have a little fun in the process?

Below, you’ll find "The Curious Case Arthuro de Modelo" the vol. 1 of “The Pilot Mysteries,”  our noir-inspired series starring a dashing estate planner caught in the middle of a deadly family feud.

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No one ever tells you that giant explosions make you sore. In the movies, people jump out of explosions all the time, and then just get on with the next scene, and everything is fine. The next morning, however, I was anything but fine.

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Yellow door on brick home

The first thing we did was look for the Kia, the one Carl had borrowed from Stupid Gandalf. We didn’t think we’d seen a Kia in the parking areas around Maxwell Mechanical, so we reasoned that it had to have been parked somewhere around the food truck warehouse. We looked around for it as we exited the warehouse but didn’t ...

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Dimly Lit Empty Warehouse

I looked at the gun in Carl’s hand and said, “A .38, Carl? Really?” Around the warehouse, the clowns were closing slowly around us, the one with the crossbow limping around from behind the workbench to position himself a few yards to Carl’s left.

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Clown With Red Nose, Big Smile, and Sprinkles

By the time Carl joined us and we were all gathered around the back table, it was impossible not to notice that the chicken was ready. The smell was killing us. I flipped up the lid and moved the piece around, and they were just perfect, and the de Modelo boys, in particular, lacked subtlety in their attention to it.

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The Lost Boys Black Eye

Another surreal day at the office passed in the awkward, jarring wake of Special Agent Tom Fine and his frankly unpleasant demeanor. Mike came in right after he left and cleaned up the cheese spread, moved it into the second conference room, and Meredith retrieved his cup, cleaning it at the sink and returning it to the rack.

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Blurred man walking downstairs

I sent the license plate number to Detective O’Neil that evening by email, along with a brief summary of Mike’s story, and the photo of the man who might very well have been Stupid Gandalf. Unfortunately, the reply I received in return was not nearly the springing-into-action response I’d been looking for. He said that the FBI had taken over ...

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Chapter 7

By the time I arrived at work the next morning, I’d developed the surreal impression that the entire abduction had been a dream. I’d slept well, a deep and exhausted form of sleep I hadn’t encountered in years, and I awoke to a delicious breakfast prepared by my still-shotgun-wielding wife. I had the feeling that shotgun might be around a ...

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Group of Beekeepers

Detective Douglas O’Neil was a round man with a round face and black, rectangular glasses, sitting behind his desk finishing some paperwork. He put his pen down and stood as I entered his office, the officer who’d escorted me there gesturing to a chair before leaving us.

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Man in Suit Smoking a Cigar

From the moment Chelsea de Modelo walked into my office to talk about her husband’s accident, I knew that my life was starting to resemble an old Raymond Chandler novel, and that feeling grew steadily with each passing day.

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People at Funeral

In the weeks following the hearing, I was amazed at Chelsea’s resilience. Even if nothing of legal importance at all had been going on, her husband had been in a near-fatal car accident. I’ve seen people lose all functionality after the stress and terror of such a thing. But as bad as that scenario is, it’s even worse when the ...

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