After the Rain

by Philip Cox

  ‘Sorry to detain you sir,’ he said to Craig.

  ‘We’re actually together,’ Craig said.

  The officer looked at them both momentarily. ‘Well, in that case, my questions will be to both of you. Can you tell me what you saw?’

  ‘We were sitting down over there,’ Ben pointed over to where they had spoken to Luis. ‘Just taking in the scenery. The guy who got hit came up along that path and sat down on the same bench as us.’

  ‘Okay. Did he say anything to you?’ the officer enquired.

  ‘He just remarked on how nice it was here. You know, the scenery, the view.’

  ‘Nothing else?’

  Ben paused a moment. ‘Not really. He asked if we were here on holiday. On vacation. We said yes, he said it was a nice place to visit. Then he said his bus was coming, so he walked back down there. We both turned away; next thing we heard a screech of brakes or something and a dull thud. We both turned round and saw the car drive over him. Then we ran down here.’

  ‘Did you notice what car it was?’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t recognize it. It was black, and similar to…’ He looked around the parking lot. ‘Similar to that red one there.’ He pointed to a red vehicle.

  The officer nodded and turned to Craig. ‘Anything to add, sir?’

  ‘No,’ Craig replied. ‘That’s just about it.’

  ‘I’ll need to take your address and a contact number for you both,’ the officer said. ‘From your accents, I’d guess you’re both Brits here on vacation?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Craig said, and gave the officer their apartment address and their phone numbers.

  The officer wrote the numbers down and tapped his notepad with his pencil. ‘Why did you guys come here?’ He indicated over to the lighthouse and the surrounding area.

  ‘We just felt like visiting the lighthouse,’ answered Craig. ‘Our guidebook says it’s a major attraction in the area.’

  ‘It is. Though I guess this had kind of spoilt your day?’

  ‘It has really,’ Ben said. ‘I think we’ll head back now. I don’t really feel in the mood for visiting the lighthouse.’

  ‘Well, thanks for your time. When do you guys fly back home?’

  ‘A week or so.’

  ‘Well, have a good trip while you are here. We’ll call you if we need any further information or clarification.’

  The officer then moved on to the woman with the carrier bag. She seemed to be the last to be interviewed; the other officer had spoken to the other bystanders and they had drifted away.

  ‘Come on,’ said Craig. ‘Let’s go.’

  They walked back to the car and Craig drove out of the parking lot and up South Atlantic Avenue back towards Daytona Beach.

  ‘Why did you tell the cop we were talking to Luis?’ Craig asked. ‘I was just going to say that we heard the noise and ran down.’

  ‘I thought it better. Just in case one of the other witnesses saw us talking to him. Then there’d be a conflict between what we said and what they said and so on. I didn’t see any need to tell him what we were talking about, though.’

  ‘No, neither do I. Shall we go tell Sanchez when we get back?’

  ‘I think we should. She might take things more seriously then. It must have been deliberate; it’s too much of a coincidence. But what I want to know is: how whoever was driving knew we were meeting Luis?’

  ‘And right up here.’

  ‘And right up here. Secondly: assuming they thought he was going to tell us something they didn’t want us to know, why hit him after he’d spoken to us?’

  ‘God knows. We need to get hold of that driver.’

  Neither of them said a word as they retraced the route up South then North Atlantic Avenue, then

  through Daytona Beach and west towards the I-4. They had been on the interstate only two minutes when Craig’s phone rang.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Ben said, reaching into Craig’s pocket. ‘Hello? Oh, hi, Lieutenant.’ He mouthed Sanchez at Craig.

  ‘No, it’s Ben Rook. Craig’s driving. We’re on our way back from -’

  Craig glanced back and forth from the road to Ben, who was listening to the Lieutenant.

  ‘Well, we were going to come see you as we think it had something to do with Craig’s brother’s disappearance.’

  ‘..........’

  ‘About five? We should be back in town by then.’

  ‘..........’

  ‘Okay. Bye.’

  Ending the call, Ben looked out in front of them and swore.

  ‘Sanchez?’ asked Craig. ‘What did she want? I take it we’re going to see her at five.’

  ‘You’re not going to believe this. She knew about Luis and the hit and run.’

  ‘She knew? But it was only what, an hour or so ago.’

  ‘She still knew. She said when she found out that two of the witnesses were single white males with a British accent she knew it had to be us.’

  ‘Did she know about Luis?’

  ‘She knew he had been killed.’

  ‘No, I mean did she know we had been talking to him?’

  ‘She didn’t say, but presumably it will be on that officer’s report.’

  ‘Well, we’d better go straight there when we get back to town.’

  *****

  They stopped off to eat at an IHOP during the drive back, and headed straight for the police department building. It was four-thirty when they pulled up outside the red brick building. Once inside, they walked over to the enquiries desk. There was nobody in attendance, but they could see Detective McGee talking to another officer at the back of the station. McGee saw them and walked up to the front.

  ‘Come through here,’ McGee said, pointing over to the door leading to the interview rooms. McGee himself went through another door and appeared in the same doorway where they had first met Sanchez.

  ‘Follow me please,’ he said curtly, and led them through to the same interview room where they had seen the Lieutenant.

  ‘Detective McGee,’ he said as they sat down. ‘I am Lieutenant Sanchez’s partner. We met the other night at your apartment. You had just been…..’ His voice tailed off as he looked at Craig. Craig was sure he saw McGee’s top lip quiver slightly.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ben. ‘We remember you. We had a call from the Lieutenant earlier today. She wanted to see us.’

  ‘About the homicide in Ponce Inlet,’ McGee replied. ‘Yes, that’s right. The Lieutenant is out on a call, so she asked me to see you guys. There’s something she wants me to ask you.’

  ‘Go ahead, said Craig, sitting back in his chair.

  McGee leaned forward. ‘What the fuck do you two clowns think you’re playing at? First time she saw you, the Lieutenant warned you to keep out of trouble. Then you go straight out of talking with her to asking a lot of damn fool questions at Shots, you almost bribe the staff there to look at the CCTV, you go shooting off to the diner asking more questions. Then that poor sonofabitch gets himself killed meeting you. To say nothing of a gay one night stand gone wrong.’

  The latest remark was obviously directed at Craig, so Ben cut in. ‘Hang on, Detective. I asked you this the other night I think, and I am asking you again now. Apart from somehow pissing you and the Lieutenant off, tell me: what laws have been broken? What crimes have we committed?’

  McGee seemed lost for words, so Ben carried on. ‘Have we wasted police time? How have we hindered your enquiries, hm?’

  Ben’s outburst seemed to have knocked the wind out of McGee’s sails. He turned to Ben; now he seemed much less aggressive. ‘Look, we know you weren’t driving the vehicle in question. But the Lieutenant feels that almost every day something happens involving you two.’

  ‘Is that our fault? All we’re trying to do is find my friend’s brother. Which you guys haven’t been able to do.’

  McGee held his hands up. ‘Guys, we’re working on it, believe me. But do you know how many people go missing every week in the state of Florida?
Just trust us, and we’ll do our damnedest to find the missing person.’

  The three of them sat for a moment in silence. McGee was the first one to speak. ‘All the Lieutenant wants to know is what the deceased told you. It may have gotten him killed.’

  ‘All he told us,’ said Craig, ‘was that last week he saw my brother at his diner with a group of four or five others.’

  ‘The same group we think that was on the CCTV later at the bar,’ added Ben.

  ‘That all?’ asked McGee. ‘You went all that way just for him to tell you that? Give me a break.’

  ‘Apparently his employer threatened to fire him if he had visitors at the diner,’ Ben replied, ‘and he said his wife worked as a cleaner at one of the beach houses. He was seeing us while she was cleaning a house. That was the only reason.’

  McGee seemed skeptical. ‘On the level?’

  Ben nodded. ‘On the level.’

  ‘Not much information, then.’ McGee paused. ‘Do you think it was deliberate? Do you think whoever was driving was trying to stop him talking to you?’

  ‘You tell me,’ Craig replied. ‘Is there anything else you or the Lieutenant want to know?’

  McGee stared at Craig for a few seconds. ‘No, nothing at this time. We have the address of where you’re staying if there is in the future.’

  McGee sat without saying a word for a few more seconds and then showed them out to the public area. He said nothing to them as they left, but gave Ben a curt nod. He ignored Craig.

  ‘Prick,’ said Craig as they walked back to the car.

  ‘No, he doesn’t like you,’ replied Ben.

  ‘Homophobic prick,’ Craig repeated from the driver’s seat before he started the car.

  ‘Think that’s what it is?’ asked Ben.

  ‘Can’t think of any another reason to be such a total wanker. He seems okay with you.’

  ‘I would have preferred to see Sanchez herself, anyway. She seemed to have better personal skills, shall we say,’ said Ben.

  ‘I’m tired,’ said Craig. ‘Let’s go back to the apartment and crash out. Plan tomorrow in the morning.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  Craig turned on the ignition and pulled away. They made a right into the Main Street and two blocks later had a red light at the intersection.

  ‘See that?’ said Ben. It was now twilight; the streetlights had just turned on, so it was not too dark to see clearly ahead.

  ‘Yeah, I see it.’ Craig said quietly.

  Three vehicles were travelling left to right along the cross street: a silver sedan, a bus, and then a black Ford Windstar.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  ‘FOLLOW THAT CAR,’ said Ben, immediately realizing how foolish he sounded.

  The cross street was clear, so Craig swung the steering wheel, and they turned right. The bus ahead pulled in at a stop, so Craig quickly changed lanes and overtook it. Fifty yards or so further on, they came to another set of red lights. The Windstar was occupying the inside lane; the silver sedan stopped in the outside, indicating a right turn.

  Craig slowly pulled up behind the Windstar. ‘Bugger. Didn’t mean to get that close. Was planning on keeping a discreet distance.’

  ‘I don’t think anyone’s noticed,’ Ben said peering round to get a view of the offside. ‘If it is the right vehicle, I doubt if we’ve registered.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure it is.’ Craig squinted at the car in front. Even in the twilight, he could still see quite well. ‘Look, even down to the tinted windows.’

  The lights turned green and the Windstar pulled away, going straight on. Craig gave it a few seconds, and did likewise. ‘I want to keep a discreet distance, but still make sure I don’t lose him, like last time.’

  ‘Yeah, it was funny about that,’ Ben said. ‘It just turned that corner, then it was gone.’

  Another intersection, another green light, but just as the Windstar crossed the white line, the lights turned amber, then red.

  Craig swore.

  ‘May not be a problem,’ Ben reassured him. ‘There’s hardly any traffic, so as long as we keep our eyes fixed on his tail lights, we should be okay. Might be to our advantage, just in case he had picked us up.’

  A green light again, and Craig moved off.

  ‘See, there they are in the distance,’ said Ben, ‘Only a couple of blocks down.’

  Craig nodded. ‘I’ll speed up a bit, but keep below twenty-five. They’re not in any hurry.’

  The Windstar carried on, ahead at the next two intersections, a left on the third. Craig kept an unobtrusive distance behind. After making the left turn, the driver glanced at his wing mirror, fumbled on the passenger seat for a cell phone, and speed dialled a number.

  *****

  A Kylie Minogue track was possibly not the most embarrassing ringtone to have on a cell phone, but came pretty high up on the scale. Cursing and making a mental note to change the ringtone to something with a little more gravitas, the owner of the phone reached over and pressed the answer key.

  ‘Yes, what is it?’

  ‘Have you heard what happened?’ Came a familiar voice.

  ‘Wait a minute. I’m driving. I need to pull over.’

  The caller waited a few seconds, then: ‘Hello?’

  ‘Just wait a moment, for Christ’s sake. I’m just parking.’ There was another brief pause, and then: ‘Yes, I heard what happened. That’s why I’ve being trying to get hold of you.’

  ‘Well, it’s done.’

  ‘It’s done all right. Which one of you morons did it?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Listen to me. Who went up there to do it?’

  ‘It was Jared. Why?’

  ‘Well, when you see him next, I want you to kick the shit out of him. If you don’t, I will; then I will kick the shit out of you.’

  The caller said nothing.

  ‘Tell him also, that the whole point of going up to Daytona was to get to the waiter before he had a chance to talk to the two Brits, not after.’

  ‘He was too late, then?’

  ‘Yes, he was too late.’

  ‘Have we got any idea of what he said to them?’

  There was an intake of breath. ‘Very little, apparently. Just that he had seen the brother up at his diner.’

  ‘With us?’

  ‘Yes, it sounds like it. But don’t worry yourself: he didn’t say much. He just noticed the brother from a photo they had left him.’

  ‘What do you want me to do now?’

  ‘Nothing. Just sit tight, all of you. We’ll see what they get up to and what else they find out, if anything.’

  ‘What about the Daytona police?’

  ‘They are treating it as a hit and run. There’s an APB out for the car, so he’d better get it out of sight, like yesterday.’ The caller started to say something else, but the other party had hung up.

  The driver indicated to pull out, then joined the rest of the traffic. A minute later, Kylie sounded again.

  ‘Jesus H, what is it now?’ The phone was yanked out of its holder.

  ‘Jared has just called. He was taking the Ford back and the two Brits picked him up.’

  ‘Where are they now?’

  ‘They’re following him along the Old Commerce Road.’

  ‘He is a moron. Right, listen: this is what’s going to happen. Tell Jared to take them for a tour of town – about twenty minutes or so. Then I want him to lead them to the old orange packing depot. I want you to call the other two and you all to meet up there. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘I don’t want them dead; that would cause more problems that it would solve. Just give them a warning. A serious warning.’

  ‘Right, I’ll call Jared back.’

  ‘And Billy: no screw-ups this time.’

  *****

  ‘Where the hell’s he going?’ said Craig, as the Windstar driver made another right turn. They were on the outskirts of
town now: the rows and rows of single storey homes were giving way to light industry.

  ‘I wonder if he’s seen us, and is trying to lose us,’ answered Ben. ‘Although, you would have thought he’d go a bit faster if he was trying to shake us off.’

  ‘I’ve a feeling we might have double backed a couple of times,’ Craig said as he made another left turn.

  They went straight on at the next four intersections: now the buildings were mainly light industry, some in use, some appearing derelict.

  ‘I’d keep more distance between us,’ said Ben. ‘Just in case. Something’s a bit fishy. Look, he’s indicating again.’

  The Windstar indicated to turn left, but instead of following, Craig went on. Once the other car was out of view, Craig made a U turn, and approached the side street from the opposite direction. Turning into it, they could see the tail lights some way in the distance. Then brake lights came on. Craig slowed down to a walking pace, and then stopped.

  ‘Kill the lights,’ Ben said. Craig did so.

  Craig peered forward into the darkness. ‘What is he up to?’ he muttered.

  A figure got out of the driver’s side. This street was poorly lit, and in the shadowy gloom all they could make out was a man’s outline. Then headlights caught their rear view mirror: they swung round to see a third car stop some fifty yards behind them. Once these lights were switched off, all they could make out was the black outline of the car, illuminated from behind by the lamps from the main street some hundred yards away. Three figures got out of the car, and started to slowly walk towards Ben and Craig’s car. The sole figure from the Windstar did the same.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ muttered Ben. He and Craig both opened their doors and looked out. The four figures were approaching, one from the front, three from behind. In the shadow, they could see that one of the three was carrying what seemed like a length of chain, another what seemed like a baseball bat.

  Ben and Craig were now out of their car, and stood waiting as the four figures approached.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ‘OH SHIT,’ SAID Ben. ‘Here we go.’

  The figures were about twenty feet away from them; now they had moved so that Ben and Craig were surrounded. Ben cursed himself and Craig for leaving the car, but the road looked a dead end, and the vehicle behind theirs was parked across the road, blocking their exit. The light was so bad that even at this relatively close distance they could only make out an outline of the figures. The lights from the street behind and over the roofs of the single storey buildings lent an eerie quality to the scene.