Page 108 of Feel It in the Air

Gus tilts his head to the side, brows knitting together in confusion. “For starters, no one has ever heard of this vendor. We have no idea where they came from. And all of their invoices just say ‘services rendered,’ so we don’t know what kind of services that is. They started out being filed under Hayes Gives, which is why Chris asked Willa, but then they started getting filed under general overhead. And it’s a lot of fucking money for general overhead. Especially when no one has ever heard of Sapphire Sands.”

Sapphire Sands…Sapphire Sands…why the fuck do I know that name?!

“Sapphire Sands—y’all workin’ with Bea?” Dustin Wild stops, looking at us with mild curiosity.

Bea. Bea Kennett. Country music legend, one of the all-time greats, and a household name regardless of what genre of music you listen to. The woman who my mother says rounds out the Holy Trinity of female country stars—Loretta, Dolly, and Bea.

I stare at Dustin for a second, blinking hard, my mind racing to process what he just said, balancing it with the fact that he is the one that just said it. A country star in his own right, with his recognizable voice and even more recognizable smile, Dustin looks between us, still waiting on an answer.

“Bea Kennett,” I mutter out loud.

“Yeah, you mentioned Sapphire Sands, so you must be doin’ something with Bea. She’s a sweetheart.”

“Bea Kennett is attached to Sapphire Sands Restoration?” Gus asks.

“Restoration? Naw, she swore to never rebuild. Said the last thing this country needed was another house.”

“I’m confused.”

My pulse jumps, energy flowing through me like sparks off a live wire. Puzzle pieces are clicking into place, a fog lifting allowing me to start seeing what’s right in front of us.

“Sapphire Sands was the name of her compound that burned down in the late eighties. It was named after one of her really early songs, built by her late husband. No one was there when it burned down, thankfully, but she’s held fast to never rebuilding it, putting it in her will that after she passes, the property is to be turned into a camp for kids with disabilities.”

“You know your Bea Kennett, impressive,” Dustin comments.

“My mom’s a fan,” I say, almost dismissively. Because that’s not why I know this. Nor is it the important part. “She owns the trademark.”

Click.

That’s the missing piece. Sapphire Sands is Bea Kennett’s trademark. Her very beloved and well-protected trademark.

Dustin and Gus exchange a look, then turn back to me.

“I really do love that mind of yours, but at some point, you’re going to have to let me in and explain to me what goes on in there,” Gus comments.

“The company is fake. Sapphire Sands Restoration doesn’t exist,” I tell him, the words rushing from me like water over Niagara Falls.

“And you know this how?”

I look at him, incredulous. Like he hasn’t listened at all when I’ve talked about what I do.

“It’s trademarked,” I repeat. “That’s the whole thing—Sapphire Sands is part of her brand. Song titles, much like recipes, can’t be trademarked or copyrighted. That’s why you can name books and movies after them. That’s why they can name that Johnny Cash movie Walk the Line and it’s totally fine. But brands, like Hayes Rifles, can absolutely be trademarked. Which is what Bea Kennett did. To the point where she had a whole lawsuit with this casino in Vegas to try and get them to change their name. But it didn’t work.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard her mention that a couple times,” Dustin chimes in, taking a sip of his drink. “That was a long time ago, though, wasn’t it?”

“The suit was decided on in 1991. It all came down to when the casino was built and when she filed the trademark, trying to prove that it was named after her estate that had burned down and her song. On what she had partially built a career on. She technically filed the trademark after the casino had broken ground, although it hadn’t publicly been named. But, because of the timeline, she couldn't prove in a court of law that they built it and named it with the sole purpose of riding the coattails of her brand and the news story,” I ramble.

I suck in a breath, not waiting for either of them to start asking questions.

“Personally, I think it’s obvious that’s what they did, but they couldn’t prove it in court.”

“I take it you studied this in law school?” Gus asks.

I shake my head. “Dexter Wynn. It wasn’t his case, but he talks about it like it was. It’s a weird little hobby of his to go back and look through the details of a case to see if he can find something that someone missed, so he can somehow prove that yes, they violated the trademark. Like, he can do it when nobody else can, as a point of personal pride or something. And the Bea Kennett Sapphire Sands case? That’s his favorite. He’s probably re-reviewed it a hundred times looking for something.”

“So, what does this have to do with y’all workin’ with Bea?” Dustin questions, bringing us back to the original point.

“We’re not,” Gus answers.