Wild Rain

by Tripp Ellis

  “My undying gratitude.”

  “Not good enough.” She sighed. “You can’t say no next time I need something.”

  “When have I ever said no to you?” I said, knowing there were plenty of times.

  She scoffed. “This relationship is starting to feel one-sided.”

  26

  The sky darkened as we drove back toward the marina with the top down. It would be the last time the top was down for a few days. We were in for some heavy rains.

  JD warned, “It's going to get nasty. They're predicting Celeste is going to make landfall just south of here. We're going to get the dirty side."

  I cringed.

  "I think we should move the boat out of the marina,” JD said.

  "I know a great hurricane hole just north of Dogfish Bay. It’s a pretty secluded inlet. Dad used to weather the storms there all the time."

  "We’d better start prepping for this now. We only have a few days," JD said.

  On the way to Diver Down, we pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store and made our way inside. It was a madhouse, things were flying off the shelves quickly. We grabbed several 24 packs of bottled water, canned goods, extra pet food, batteries, flashlights, and anything else we thought we might need.

  JD's tiny Porsche was packed full with groceries. He dropped me off at Diver Down and we unloaded the loot and carried it to the boat.

  "I'll cruise the Wild Tide up to Dogfish Bay, secure it, and stay on board with it."

  "Nonsense. I'll drive around and pick you up. We can both ride out the storm inland."

  "I've been through several hurricanes with Dad in that hurricane hole. Never a problem. It's well sheltered. Tie the boat off at multiple points, a few anchors, and you're fine."

  "It's just a boat. It's not worth the risk. You can't do anything once it's tied up, anyway.”

  "I'd feel better about it if there was someone looking after it."

  JD shook his head. "It's an object. Objects are replaceable."

  "This thing is probably going to miss us, anyway. When are the weather people ever accurate?"

  JD couldn't disagree. "Geez, and I thought I was stubborn."

  "I'll be fine,” I said. "But could you look after Buddy and Fluffy? I'm afraid the storm will scare the living daylights out of them, especially on the boat.”

  “So, I'm inheriting a dog and a cat?"

  "Taking temporary custody.”

  JD sighed. “I’ll do it on one condition. You don't do something stupid like ride out the hurricane on the boat."

  I took a deep breath. "Fine."

  “I see there's a few brain cells in there after all," JD said.

  I shot him a look.

  "I'm going to go prep the house and start packing," JD said. "I'll touch base with you soon."

  "Roger that."

  I strolled to Diver Down. Madison was closing up shop. On TV, the news was ramping up their coverage of the storm. There wasn't a mandatory evacuation yet, but that was coming.

  I helped Madison close up the storm shutters, stack the chairs on top of the tables, and move anything valuable up to the second floor, in case of flooding.

  "Where are you going to go?" I asked.

  "I'm going to stay here."

  My eyes narrowed with concern. Stubbornness ran in the family.

  "I've weathered plenty of storms in this building,” Madison said.

  "JD's heading north. Why don't you go with him and Scarlett.”

  "Not necessary."

  “I’d feel better about it."

  "Let me call Ryan and see what he wants to do."

  I raised my hands innocently. She had warned me about being an over-protective older brother, and I was going to honor her wishes. "You're a grown woman. I'm sure you’ll make the right decisions."

  She sighed. "Speaking of decisions… I may have made a bad one earlier."

  "Do I want to ask?"

  She cringed. "Scarlett called. She was in a desperate situation and—“

  “Don't tell me you…?"

  "Yes."

  I grimaced.

  "The last thing she needs is more trouble. Don't get mad at me.”

  "I'm not mad at you. I was thinking about helping her out myself."

  "The girl sure knows how to get what she wants," Madison said.

  "She sure does."

  Isabella texted me three images of men who fit the description of the assassin. They were all known hitmen for the cartels and the Mafia.

  "You mind if I borrow your Jeep?"

  Madison’s eyes narrowed at me.

  "I just need to run a quick errand. I promise I will be careful."

  “I’ve seen what happens to the vehicles you drive."

  "I swear. I'm just going around the block."

  "No. Every time you take that boat out on the water, it comes back with bullet holes. I love my Jeep. I don't want holes in it."

  “Not every time.”

  Madison scowled at me.

  "Okay. Be that way."

  She huffed. "Oh please. Don't make me the bad guy on this one."

  I pulled out my phone and requested an Uber.

  "See. Was that so hard?"

  I ignored her and sat at the bar, waiting for the Uber to pull in the parking lot.

  It started drizzling again.

  Abdul picked me up in a beige town car, even though I ordered the cheaper tier. The ride was cushy, and the leather soft.

  By the time I reached the motel, it was pouring.

  Abdul smiled. “Enjoy your afternoon. Please be sure to rate me 5 stars. I’ll do the same for you.”

  I pushed open the door and darted out of the town car, taking shelter under the awning of the motel.

  Droplets of rain's splattered against the asphalt, quickly forming puddles. Lightning flashed in the distance, and thunder crackled overhead.

  The boom rumbled through my chest and rattled windowpanes. The smell of rain, asphalt, and oil mixed in the air.

  I walked along the row of rooms and banged on Earl’s door. The wall AC unit hummed, and the sound of the TV filtered through the door.

  There was no answer.

  I knocked again.

  Maybe Earl was in the restroom? Or taking a shower? Maybe he had acquired some companionship?

  I peered in through the window, but the curtains were closed. A glimmer of the TV flickered through the narrow gap in the blinds.

  Maybe he stepped out to get ice?

  In the pit of my stomach I had an unsettled feeling.

  My sneakers slapped against the wet concrete as I jogged back to the main office. The bell rang as I pushed inside. It was one of those motels that didn't really have a lobby. Just a counter and a few chairs out front for guests. Behind the counter was a chair, a small television, a portable refrigerator, and lots of messy papers stacked everywhere.

  The desk clerk wasn't there.

  I rang the bell several times.

  A few moments later, a man staggered out from the back. He looked annoyed. He was 6’, sloppy, had disheveled hair, and the only exercise he got was lifting a slice of pizza to his lips.

  "It's $89 a night. If you want cable it's an extra 20 bucks—“

  "I checked in earlier. Remember?"

  He looked at me curiously for a second. "Oh, right."

  There was a long awkward pause.

  "What can I do for you?"

  "I seem to have locked myself out of the room. Can I get a spare key?"

  "What's the room number?"

  "Number 29."

  This place was still actually using keys instead of magnetic cards.

  He fumbled around, grabbed a spare set, and tossed them to me. "Try not to lose those. It's the last set I’ve got.”

  "Sure thing."

  I left the office and jogged back to the room. I drew my pistol for good measure. I pushed the key into the slot and twisted the handle. When I opened the door, my heart sank.

  Earl lay on
the bed in a pool of blood. He’d taken two shots to the chest.

  Another professional hit.

  I called JD. "Get down to the motel. ASAP. We have a situation."

  27

  Red and blue lights bathed the parking lot of the cheap motel. Rain poured down, bouncing off patrol cars. The crackle of thunder echoed across the sky.

  Sheriff Daniels scowled at me with a tight jaw and narrow eyes. "You want to explain to me what the hell happened here?"

  I told him about Earl witnessing the murder. Or, at least, claiming to have witnessed the murder.

  "So, you took it upon yourself to put him up in a hotel without providing adequate security?"

  I winced at his biting comment.

  Daniels harsh gaze turned to JD. "And you… You went along with this?"

  JD started to defend himself, but Daniels cut him off.

  "Careful, or you're gonna lose your badge too," the sheriff warned.

  Camera flashes spilled out of the hotel room as the forensics photographer documented the crime scene. Brenda examined the body. We stood on the walkway just outside the room.

  "So, between the time you left him in the hotel and came back, he was murdered?”

  "Brilliant deduction," JD snarked.

  Sheriff Daniels eyes blazed into him. "How long were you gone?"

  "A few hours," I said.

  "Who else knew he was here?"

  "Nobody."

  "Well, somebody knew," Daniels said.

  "Maybe somebody saw us in the alley, or when we took him to breakfast?" I said.

  "He also mentioned he was looking for a little female companionship," JD added.

  "Do we know if he was successful in that endeavor?" Daniels asked.

  I shrugged.

  Daniels called into the room, "Brenda, can you tell if the victim had any visitors besides our killer?"

  "I'll know more when I get the body back to the lab, but there is a glass on the nightstand with lipstick on it. I don’t think it’s his shade.“

  Daniels looked at JD. "See if you can find the girl." Then he pointed at me. "And you, stay out of this. Give Jenkins a full statement and get out of here."

  "Yes, sir," I said.

  "Any word on the mandatory evacuation for the island?" JD said.

  "Nothing yet," Daniels replied. "But we're urging everyone to take the utmost precautions. Last I heard, Celeste has stalled. It’s sitting out there gaining momentum, and in the meantime it's just going to piss on us till it gets here. And when that happens is anyone's guess right now."

  JD went to the main office and got a list of all the calls made from the hotel room.

  Earl had ordered a pizza and made calls to several escort services. JD called each one and tried to wrangle information. They were reluctant to divulge anything about their clients, or their employees, but with a little subtle persuasion, JD was able to get the name of the girl that visited Earl from one of the dispatchers.

  "Carla," the dispatcher said.

  "Where do I find her?" JD asked.

  "You're a cop. You should be able to figure it out."

  JD's face tensed. "Listen, lady. You can make my life easy, or you can make my life difficult. And I can do the same for you."

  "Honestly, I don't know much about the girls. I have a database that lists the girls, gives me a few images, and a contact number. I dispatch them. They perform services and cut the agency a percentage. Most of these girls are working the street as well."

  "Give me Carla's contact information.”

  After a little hemming and hawing, Tracy, the dispatcher, agreed.

  JD thought for a moment. "Better yet, why don't you call Carla and send her to a client."

  There was a long silence.

  "Name and address?"

  "Tyson Wild. The marina at Diver Down. Tell her to look for the Wild Tide."

  JD had a sly grin on his face.

  With any luck, we wouldn’t have to go looking for Carla—she would come straight to us. But it was doubtful the dispatcher would follow through on her promise. Neither of us were sure Carla would show up.

  We returned to the marina and sat in the salon of the boat, waiting for over an hour.

  "How do we know Carla didn't kill Earl?” I asked.

  “We don't," JD said. “But it seems doubtful to me. How many escorts do you know that double as assassins?”

  “I don’t know that many escorts.”

  JD rolled his eyes.

  He called the pizza place and talked to the delivery guy who delivered Earl’s pizza at the motel.

  “Yeah, I remember the guy. He was alone when I delivered the pizza. Left a shitty tip. He’s really dead?”

  “Yeah,” JD said.

  “Karma’s a bitch,” the delivery guy said.

  “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

  “Whatever,” the guy scoffed.

  “Did you notice anyone else loitering around in the parking lot?”

  “Not that I recall. I try to keep an eye out for bad situations. I’ve been mugged a few times. It’s kind of ridiculous. I never have that much cash on me when I’m delivering pizzas.”

  JD thanked him for his time.

  We were about to give up on the escort when the clank of high heels against the dock filtered into the salon. The rain had lessened slightly, but was still coming down.

  Carla knocked on the transom.

  I opened the hatch. “Are you Carla?”

  "I am,” she said with a smile that revealed a few missing teeth.

  She stood on the dock wearing a faux leather miniskirt and a leopard print bra that accentuated poorly placed implants. They looked hard as rocks. Red lipstick painted her thin lips. She had curly brown hair and wore way too much eyeshadow. The tracks on her arm clearly indicated she was a user.

  Rain pattered on her umbrella.

  “Could you give me a hand?" she asked, trying to figure out how she was going to navigate the transom.

  I stepped into the cockpit, took her hand and helped her scale the transom. Her short skirt climbed her hips, revealing red lace panties. She shimmied the skirt back down when she was in the cockpit, feigning modesty.

  I glanced around the marina to see if anyone was watching. No one was out in this weather.

  I ushered her into the salon. When she caught sight of JD, she said, “Tracy didn't tell me this was a doubles call. I'm fine with it, but that will cost extra."

  "No problem," I said, offering her a seat.

  She plopped down on the settee, and the pleasant grin on her face faded when JD flashed his shiny gold badge.

  "Aw, shit! You’re not going to bust me, are you?"

  "We just want to ask you a few questions," JD said.

  28

  "He was breathing when I left him," Carla said.

  JD had informed her of Earl’s demise.

  A worried look tensed her face. "You don't think I had anything to do with it, do you?"

  "We're just trying to ascertain what happened," JD said.

  "What time did you leave the motel?" I asked.

  "I don't know. Maybe 2:30 PM."

  "And he was still breathing?"

  "Very much so."

  “How long were you with him?"

  She thought about it a moment. "He wasn't a two pump chump, but it was not an all-night affair. Maybe 20 minutes?” She paused. "And let me tell you, he did pretty well for an old guy. If you know what I mean?"

  "Who else knew you were going to the motel?" I asked.

  "The dispatcher at the agency. I may have told a girlfriend."

  "You think you were followed to the hotel?"

  "I don't think so. I mean, I keep aware of my surroundings. I get a few creepers now and then. It's a dangerous line of work. Just a few weeks ago, a girlfriend of mine was abducted and brutalized."

  "Maybe you ought to seek other employment?" JD said.

  "I'm not exactly a 9-to-5 girl."

  I pu
lled up images of the assassins on my phone that Isabella had sent me. I showed them to Carla. "You recognize any of these men?"

  She studied the faces carefully. She frowned and shook her head. "No."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Look, I meet a lot of men. Faces blur together."

  “You haven't seen them around the area?"

  "I don't spend a lot of time looking at these guys’ faces, if you know what I mean.”

  I exchanged a glance with JD. Carla wasn't giving us much to go on.

  "Thanks for your time, ma'am. Can I get your direct number in case I have any additional questions?"

  She smiled. "Sure thing. Call me if you ever need my services."

  I grabbed a pen and took down her number.

  The rain had slacked up, and I escorted her out of the boat.

  “Hey, can I get a little something for the effort? The cab over wasn’t free, you know?”

  I dug into my pocket and pulled out a $20 bill.

  Her fingertips snatched it quickly. “It's $10 each way. That doesn't include my time."

  I felt like I was getting hustled. “What is your time worth?"

  She grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

  There was a lustful sparkle in her eyes, and she flaunted her wears.

  “How about 50 bucks? It's all I've got." I dug into my pocket and pulled out the remaining cash that I had on hand.

  She snatched it like a snake striking a rat. "I guess that will have to do. I feel bad that all we did was talk.”

  I helped her onto the dock.

  “You know where to find me.” She smiled again and waved, then clacked her high heels down the wooden platform.

  Mr. Miller was in the cockpit of his boat. He shot me a disapproving glare. It looked like I had just paid a hooker for services rendered. It wasn't doing anything to improve my reputation in his eyes.

  Not that I really cared.

  I just smiled and waved. "Official police business."

  He sneered at me.

  I spun around and went back into the salon. "What do you think?"

  JD threw his hands up. "I think we got nothing. I mean, she may have given the old man a heart attack, but that's about it. No way she killed him.”

  "I don't know. A girl like that will do anything for a buck,” I said. “Just playing devil’s advocate.”