Wild Rain

by Tripp Ellis

  "What do you think? Do you buy it?" JD asked.

  I shrugged. "I don't know."

  "He could have easily slipped out walked a few blocks, killed her, and ran back. None of these ass clowns would have noticed."

  "It's possible. But why?" I mean, I don't totally buy it. You come home, you catch your girlfriend or wife cheating, in a fit of passion and rage, you shoot her. It happens. But she leaves you for another woman, and a week later you step out on your gig and kill her in an alleyway? That's a tough sell. That's premeditated. Not a crime of passion. Thrash doesn't strike me as the kind of guy that premeditate's anything. I'm not saying he didn't do it. I just don't think it's likely."

  “Tomorrow we should track down Sapphire’s ex-boyfriend,” JD said. “Maybe he wanted Sapphire back, and killing Thunder was the only way he thought that would happen?"

  "Or maybe she just got mugged in an alley?" I said, defeated.

  None of our leads were panning out.

  6

  JD dropped me off at Diver Down. The lights were still on, and I could see Madison inside, cleaning up and stacking chairs on tables.

  I strolled down the dock and climbed the transom into the Wild Tide. The boats of the marina swayed gently on the water, and the moon cast a pale glow.

  It was calm and quiet.

  I pushed into the salon. Buddy was happy to see me. He wagged his tail and licked my face. I had grown quite fond of having the little Jack Russell around. He was growing quickly and had adapted to life on the boat well.

  I put on his leash and took him for a walk. His little paws clattered against the wood decking as we headed toward the restaurant. I took him around back by the dumpster and let him take care of business.

  We headed back to the Wild Tide—Buddy’s collar jingling as he trotted. I unleashed him once we got inside the salon and let him run around.

  He followed me as I descended the starboard stairs to the master suite.

  I peeled off my clothes, brushed my teeth, and got ready for bed. Buddy pawed at the base of the bed. I helped him up, and he nuzzled by my side. I tried to be disciplined with him, but more often than not, his cuteness won out, and I let him have his way.

  We watched TV, and I tried to unwind, clearing my mind of Thunder Rain.

  The local weatherman warned of a tropical depression forming in the Atlantic. It was the beginning of hurricane season and I hoped we wouldn't see anything major this year. The tropical depression was still a considerable distance offshore, but you couldn't discount these things. They could gain momentum in the blink of an eye and take crazy turns, wreaking havoc, leaving death and destruction in their wake.

  It was at that moment I realized I was completely unprepared for a hurricane. It was never a good idea to ride out a hurricane on a boat. But I needed to keep some extra water, canned goods, and batteries around in case of an emergency. Or a zombie apocalypse.

  I made a mental note to address that issue by the end of the week, then dozed off to sleep.

  In the morning, I crawled out of bed, grabbed a Diet Coke from the refrigerator, and took Buddy for a walk. Mr. Miller glared at us as we stepped into the cockpit. I smiled and waved at the grumpy old man, but he didn't acknowledge our presence. He sat in the cockpit of his sailboat sipping coffee.

  It was a beautiful morning. The orange sun crested the horizon, and a gentle breeze came off the water. I couldn't understand how anybody could be so cranky living in such a paradise.

  After the walk, I made breakfast, took a shower, and got ready for the day.

  Sheriff Daniels called. "Autopsy report is in. Brenda found 2, 9mm slugs, just as I thought. But she found a few things I didn't anticipate."

  That piqued my curiosity. "Like what?"

  "Well, the toxicology report came back. No drugs, no alcohol. But, our victim was pregnant."

  My jaw dropped and my heart sank.

  "We're looking at a double homicide."

  "How far along was she?"

  "Maybe six weeks."

  My jaw tightened. "What the fuck is wrong with people?"

  "It's a sad, sad world," Daniels said.

  I tried to remain optimistic in general. I didn't want to lose total faith in humanity, but at this point it was a challenge.

  "What are your plans today?" Daniels asked.

  "Why? Do you miss me? Do you want to hang out?" I asked with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

  "I mean regarding the case,” he growled.

  "I've got a few leads to look into still."

  "I need this thing wrapped up nice and tidy. The news media is already spinning this into something it's not. They’ll make it sound like we're not doing our job, and that Coconut Key is one of the most dangerous places on earth."

  I hesitated. "Well, in light of recent events, it hasn't exactly been—"

  Daniels cleared his throat, cutting me off. "I've doubled our patrols in the area. I still think this was a robbery gone wrong. I want you to focus on that. Keep me in the loop. I'll call you if any additional information comes to light."

  "Copy that," I said and hung up the phone.

  I called JD and filled him in. He said he’d swing by and pick me up in a few. We planned to interview Sapphire’s ex-boyfriend.

  I strolled to Diver Down and took a seat at the bar and waited for him.

  Madison was behind the bar wearing a bikini top and jean shorts with no shoes, as usual. She saw me sit down and promptly attended to me. "What can I get you?"

  I was a little surprised. She had been distracted lately by her new boyfriend, and every time I had entered the bar she was doting on the pretty boy, ignoring all others. "Where's Ryan?"

  "He's out of town."

  I mocked her. "Aw, that must be so hard for you."

  Her eyes narrowed at me.

  "How can you possibly go a day without seeing each other?"

  "Do you want something, or did you just come in here to harass me?"

  "Can’t a guy visit his little sister?”

  She rolled her eyes. “This bar is for paying customers only.”

  "I'll take a Diet Coke." I smiled.

  She sighed, grabbed a fresh glass, and scooped it full of ice. From the fountain, she poured diet soda. It fizzled and foamed as she handed it to me.

  “Thank you.”

  She spun around without a word and attended to other customers. She was still mad at me, and I didn't expect those feelings were going to fade anytime soon.

  I sipped on my soda and finished it about the time JD arrived. The Porsche roared into the parking lot, screeching to a halt near the entrance to the restaurant. He tapped the horn, and I slid my empty glass across the counter and climbed off the bar stool.

  "Are you going to pay for that?" Madison shouted.

  "Put it on my tab," I said as I pushed through the door.

  I climbed into the passenger seat and JD sped out of the parking lot.

  “Gotta make this snappy,” JD said. “We’ve got a charter this afternoon.”

  “We do?”

  “Yup.”

  “Who?”

  “You’re going to love this. It won’t feel like work at all,” JD said with a mischievous grin.

  I wondered who the hell our client was?

  7

  JD's fist pounded on Nick Rizzo’s apartment door. It was apartment #309, but the 9 had swung upside down and it was now a bastardized version of #306.

  It wasn't quite noon yet, and the sun was angling high in the sky. We stood on the porch of the 3rd floor walk up. It was a modest complex, nothing to write home about.

  JD knocked again, but there was no response.

  "Think he's here?" JD asked.

  "According to the DMV, he drives a black Mustang.” I rattled off the license plate number, then pointed to a black Mustang in the parking lot that matched.

  JD knocked again.

  After a few moments, an annoyed voice shouted through the door. "Who is it?"

  "Cou
nty Sheriff," JD said. He got a thrill every time he said it.

  The deadbolt twisted, and the door creaked open. Nick squinted at us, the bright light hurting his eyes.

  He stood in the doorway, wearing only a pair of boxers. The guy kept himself in good shape. He had washboard abs and bulging biceps. He spent a lot of time in the gym, and was probably on a little juice. He had that extra thick jawline, and traps that you could only get with chemical enhancements. He wasn't a behemoth, but the average person couldn't get those kinds of gains unless they lived in the gym and ate a perfect diet.

  This guy did neither.

  He was a party boy.

  "What do you want?" Nick asked.

  "We'd like to talk to you about Thunder Rain,” I said.

  His face crinkled. "What do you want to know?"

  "I understand she's not exactly your favorite person," JD said.

  Nick’s face crinkled even more. “I have no feelings one way or another. Why would I give a shit about Thunder Rain?"

  JD and I exchanged a glance.

  "Well, your girlfriend left you for her," I said.

  "What?" He laughed. "I don't know where you’re getting your information, but you are way off."

  "So, Sapphire didn't dump you for Thunder?" JD asked.

  Nick scoffed. "No. Are you kidding me? I broke up with Sapphire. If she told you anything different, she's lying.”

  JD and I exchanged another glance.

  "Why did you two break up?" I asked.

  "She's a dumb stripper. And I was bored. Besides, what was I going to do? Marry a stripper? Sorry, but I just couldn't see Sapphire as the mother of my children."

  "Are you looking to be a family man?" JD said with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

  Nick’s face twisted. "Who the fuck are you? It's none of your goddamn business. And, yes, one day, I'd like to have a family. But not today." He paused. "If you want me to give you a list of reasons why I stopped seeing Sapphire, I'm happy to do so. There are plenty. But who cares?"

  "Where were you last night?" I asked.

  Nick’s eyes flicked to me. "I was at work. Where were you?"

  "Where do you work?"

  “Boogie Board. I manage the place."

  "What time were you there?" I asked.

  "I came on at 4 PM, I got off at 2 AM. It was probably 3 AM by the time I left the bar. Why?"

  "Thunder Rain is dead. She was murdered in the alley behind Forbidden Fruit," JD said.

  Nick's eyes widened. "No shit?"

  "No shit," JD said.

  "What happened?"

  "That's what we're trying to find out," I said.

  He paused, processing the information. "You don't think I had something to do with this, do you?"

  "I assume that your staff can verify your whereabouts?" I asked.

  "Yeah."

  “If your story checks out, you should have nothing to worry about," I replied.

  "I think our conversation here is done.”

  “Can you think of anybody else who might have wanted to harm Thunder?"

  "Honestly, I didn't really know the girl. I met her a few times at Forbidden Fruit. She actually gave me a few dances. This was before she hooked up with Sapphire."

  "Did you ever sleep with her?"

  "Is that any of your business?"

  "I'm going to assume you did," I said.

  Nick shrugged. "Hey, I do okay with the ladies."

  "Did you know she was pregnant?"

  His eyes widened again. "It's not mine."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "I bagged it before I banged that ho."

  "Accidents happen," JD said.

  Nick shook his head. "It's kind of a moot point now, isn't it?"

  "I guess so," JD said.

  "Is there anything else?" Nick asked.

  "How did you feel when I told you that Thunder had been killed?" I asked.

  "Surprised. How am I supposed to feel?"

  I shrugged. "Thanks for your time."

  He closed the door and latched the deadbolt.

  "We are getting a whole lot of nowhere," JD said. He turned to the steps and spiraled down the staircase.

  8

  On the way back to Diver Down I told JD to stop at Ray’s Cycle Universe. He looked at me like I was crazy. "What the hell are we doing here?"

  "Looking," I said.

  "Looking at what?"

  "What do you think we are looking at? Motorcycles. That's what they sell here."

  "You're going to get a motorcycle?"

  "I didn't say I was going to get a motorcycle. I said I was going to look at motorcycles."

  "You've been watching way too much Moto XP. The last thing you need is a crotch rocket."

  "I was just thinking it might be nice to have a little bike to get me around town. That way I wouldn't always have to bum rides from you."

  JD shook his head. We pulled into the parking lot, and JD found a spot by the entrance. Cycle Universe had everything from easy riders to purebred race bikes.

  The bell chimed as we pushed through the double doors.

  "Afternoon, gentlemen. Can I help you with anything?" the sales associate asked.

  I smiled. "We're just looking."

  "He's looking," JD said. "I'm calling a psychiatrist."

  The sales associate laughed. "I’m Ray. Let me know if you need anything."

  The place smelled like rubber, metal, and oil. The clothing section had racks of leather jackets and full leather race outfits. There were posters of Moto XP stars like Dino De Stefano and Nico Locatelli—guys that didn't bat an eye at going into a corner at 200 miles an hour.

  I knew what I was looking for. I headed straight to the sport bikes. I've been doing research online, pouring over specs of countless bikes. It had become an obsession.

  I didn't want a liter bike—I didn't need that much power. I had no intention of turning myself into it slick spot on the highway at 200 miles an hour. I was looking at something in the 600cc range.

  More than fast enough.

  I actually considered a 300cc bike. Hell, I didn't need much, and I wasn't trying to prove anything. The smaller bike was lighter and would be more nimble. I could run through the gears and have fun without going that fast. With a 600cc bike, the damn thing would never get out of second gear. The Yamazuki™ X6 was more bike than I would ever need.

  Probably too much.

  The X3 would probably be just right. I didn't care if anybody made fun of me. I wasn't going to take the thing to the track, and most girls didn't know the difference between a 300cc and 600cc bike.

  If a girl was willing to take a ride with you, that was all that mattered.

  The magnificent machines put a sparkle in my eyes, and I practically drooled over their sleek, aggressive form. The X6 on the showroom floor was painted in a deep midnight blue with metallic flakes that glimmered in the light. You could get a speeding ticket just standing still.

  "Do you even know how to ride one of these things?" JD asked.

  "Of course," I said. "I grew up with bikes. Mostly off-road."

  "Just be careful. Everybody sets it down sooner or later."

  "I'm an adult. I'm not going to be doing wheelies down the highway or racing for beer money."

  JD raised his hands in surrender. "I'm just saying. I kinda like having a best friend. Would be a shame to lose that."

  I looked at him flatly. "I'll be fine."

  "That's not what I'm worried about. I'm sure you're more than capable. It’s these other jackasses on the road. They’ve got their heads buried in their phones. They don't see a goddamn thing."

  JD had a valid point.

  I surveyed the bike again for another moment. "Like I said, I'm just looking."

  I asked the dealer to give me prices on both bikes. His quote was a little high, but I figured I could talk him down if I really wanted to pull the trigger.

  I wanted to pull the trigger.

  I needed to factor
in a helmet, leathers, boots gloves, insurance, etc.

  I straddled the X6 and tried it on for size. The tires squeaked against the slick showroom floor as I twisted the handle bars. The thing was sitting still in the showroom and it still felt fast. I felt like I was sitting on top of a wild animal.

  "You want to take her for a spin?" the salesman asked.

  "Maybe some other time. We're in a bit of a hurry right now."

  He glanced around like he was making sure no one else was listening.

  No one else was in the dealership.

  Ray whispered, “Tell you what. I know you’re eyeing both of these bikes. I’ll give you 15% off if you want to ride out of here on one today.”

  “I really need more time to think about it. I don’t impulse buy.”

  “I understand. No pressure.” He handed me his card. "My name is Ray. Feel free to call me anytime if you have questions. I can get this in just about any color you want. Custom colors are extra. We do several in-house modifications and upgrades to the bikes we sell here. Everything is backed by our satisfaction guarantee, and we have an outstanding service department should the need arise."

  I thanked the salesman for his time. JD seemed relieved that I hadn’t made a purchase.

  We left the showroom, and I climbed into the Porsche. JD cranked up the engine, and we sped down the highway, heading back to the marina.

  9

  We had just enough time to catch lunch at Diver Down before our afternoon charter. We strolled into the restaurant and took a seat at the bar.

  “Remind me… I’ve got a new toy to show you,” JD said. “I think you’re going to dig it.”

  Madison gave us a dirty look, but she took our order, anyway. I ordered a cheeseburger and sweet potato fries, and JD ordered the crab cakes.

  "Who is our client this afternoon?" I asked.

  JD grinned again. "That's a surprise."

  He sipped his beer with a devilish look on his face.

  The commercial for Mayor Styles’s campaign played on the television. I had met him once at a charity gala a few weeks back. He seemed like your average politician—all smiles and not much substance. I wasn't sure the alternative was much better. I tried to avoid politics as much as possible.