Once legal battles ended Laird Ross’ disappearance turned the corner into a cold case. “The Azure Crenshaw Lost Tapes Sessions reinvigorated the jazz world. Hipsters with no knowledge of jazz purchased downloads just to be trendy. Hardcore jazz heads scrambled for the CD and vinyl box sets. Adding NFTs Sully parlayed his financial gain into a move from Bergen county to a nice bungalow down in Key West Florida.
“So what do I do now ?” Sully asked looking into a mirror in his bath room, waiting for Azure’s rancid breath to reply, which would emulate from his own mouth. Neighbors wondered about their new neighbor, who mumbled to himself and how when conversing with him in rare moments one minute he had minty fresh breath then in the next minute he needed a breath mint, in fact a fist full of breath mints.
” Nothing for nothing I fucking hate this polyester suit,” grumbled Sully in a white three piece. thoughts of suicide had long left Sully’s sick mind.
” You don’t know style my man. Anyway now we go on to the next step.” croaked Crenshaw’s specter from behind Sully to his left in the mirror. “I’ve got help for us.”
Before Sully could ask who. “Listen Mr. Funk, Texas two step, ska, blue grass man, your going help me get my hedge fund and properties back!” shouted the mushy head minus his body of Laird Ross, Crenshaw’s boney hand up in Ross’ neck moving his mouth like a puppeteer. Right about now Sully needed a Merit.