After the Rain

by Philip Cox

  ‘You don’t need to. It’s still early.’

  ‘Too late. I’m awake now.’

  As he wandered down the hallway to the bathroom, he stuck his head round the half opened door to Nathan’s room. In the faint green glow of the night-light, he could see the top of Nathan’s head, sharing the pillow with a plastic stegosaurus. Nathan stirred slightly as Matt gently closed the door.

  As he stepped into the shower, Matt could hear Ruth switch on the hair dryer. He showered himself, shampooed his hair – twice, as he normally did – then blindly reached out of the shower cubicle for the towel rail. Almost dry, he wrapped the towel around his waist, and returned to the bedroom. As he passed Nathan’s room, the door slowly opened, and his son was standing in the doorway, blinking and scratching the top of his head. Clinging onto Mr Stegosaurus, he was wearing blue and yellow pyjamas decorated with various dinosaurs.

  ‘Good morning, sport,’ Matt said, ruffling his son’s hair. ‘Sleep well?’

  Nathan nodded, yawning.

  ‘You want to come in and watch some TV while Mommy and I get up?’ Matt asked.

  Nathan nodded and shuffled after his father.

  ‘Look who I found outside,’ said Matt as he returned to the bedroom.

  ‘Morning sweetie,’ said Ruth, turning round as she dried her hair. Nathan jumped up onto his parents’ bed, reached over for the TV remote, switched it on, and tabbed down to a cartoon channel. Ruth turned round and continued with her hair.

  Matt was the first to get dressed. ‘I’ll go put the coffee on,’ he said. ‘Come with me, sport; let’s get you dressed.’

  After getting Nathan dressed, Matt went down to the kitchen and started the coffee. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ruth come in the kitchen.

  ‘You want eggs?’ he asked, pouring out two cups of coffee.

  Ruth said nothing.

  ‘Well?’ Matt said, passing her a cup.

  ‘Well what?’ she asked.

  ‘Do you want eggs?’

  Ruth sipped her coffee and looked at him blankly.

  ‘Eggs?’

  ‘Sorry, miles away. No, no eggs thanks. Think I’ll just have this.’

  Matt shrugged.

  ‘Suit yourself. Where’s Nathan?’

  ‘He- oh, he’s still upstairs playing with the dinosaurs.’

  ‘He’d better come down for breakfast,’ said Matt walking to the foot of the stairs. ‘Or he’ll be late for Bambinos. Nathan! Breakfast!’ he called out. Shortly they could hear Nathan’s footsteps running down the stairs. Now clutching both a stegosaurus and a tyrannosaurus rex, he sat up at the table.

  ‘Cereal and toast?’ Matt asked.

  ‘Yes please, Daddy,’ answered Nathan, as the T Rex began to chase the stegosaurus around the table.

  ‘I’ll take Nathan to Bambinos today, if you like,’ said Ruth from the back of the kitchen.

  ‘No, it’s all right, I’m off today -’

  ‘I can walk in via Bambinos. Drop him off on the way.’

  ‘Fine by me. I can make an early start.’

  ‘Early start on what?’

  ‘Whatever I do today. Might start off by tidying up downstairs.’

  ‘Mm. Good idea.’ Ruth finished her coffee and stood up. ‘I’m just going upstairs to get ready for work. Nathan, ten minutes, okay?’

  ‘Okay, Mommy.’

  Nathan finished his toast and ran upstairs to brush his teeth. Then he and Ruth reappeared in the doorway, ready to go. Matt went over to kiss his son goodbye.

  ‘Have a nice day, sport,’ he said, bending down. ‘Don’t be too hard on Mrs Hardy.’

  ‘Harding,’ corrected Nathan.

  ‘Harding. Right. I’ll pick you up this afternoon.’ More of a question, directed at Ruth.

  Ruth nodded. Reached up and kissed Matt.

  ‘See you,’ she said, and led Nathan to the front door. Her hand stopped at the lock and she turned back and went over to Matt, who was still in the kitchen doorway. She reached up and kissed Matt again, more tenderly than before brushing her fingers down his cheek. She smiled and went back to the door, where Nathan was waiting.

  ‘See you both tonight,’ said Matt. ‘Pizza okay for you, sport?’

  ‘Yes please, Daddy.’

  ‘Pizza okay?’ he mouthed at Ruth.

  ‘Sure,’ she nodded, then opened the door and left with Nathan.

  *****

  Not having anything particular planned, Matt intended to have a leisurely day. A few chores to attend to, but nothing major. Just to potter about in the house and the yard, pick up Nathan, then prepare dinner. As dinner was frozen pizza, the meal wouldn’t need much preparation.

  Mid-afternoon, he strolled round to Bambinos, picking up a Herald on the way.

  ‘We still having pizza tonight?’ asked Nathan as they walked home.

  ‘Sure thing, sport.’

  ‘Cool,’ said Nathan, as he skipped along next to his father.

  Just before five, Matt took some trash out to the garbage can. It had been dark for some time, a cold wind was picking up, and it was beginning to rain. Once back inside, he shivered and picked up his cell phone.

  Beginning 2 rain, why not get bus? he texted Ruth, knowing what her response would be. There needed to be at least twelve inches of snow before she gave up her walk home.

  Sure enough, a couple of minutes later came the reply: leaving now.

  Matt laughed, shook his head, and switched the oven on to cook the pizza. The clock on the stove read 5:05. Ruth should be home around 5:45. The pizzas should be ready about then.

  At 5:50 he turned off the oven and pulled out the well-cooked pizzas.

  ‘I’m hungry,’ said Nathan, who had wandered in from watching TV in the den. ‘Where’s Mommy?’

  ‘Just running a bit late, sport,’ said Matt. ‘Should be home by six.’

  But Ruth didn’t come home by six.

  Or seven.

  Or eight.

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  A SECRET TO DIE FOR

  Los Angeles, late September, and the hot Santa Ana winds are blowing, covering the city with a thin layer of dust from the Mojave and Sonoran deserts.

  That night, there are three mysterious, unexplained deaths.

  The official view is that they are all unrelated. The deceaseds had no connection, and all died in different parts of the city.

  However, Police Detective Sam Leroy has other ideas, and begins to widen the investigation.

  But he meets resistance from the most unexpected quarter, and when his life and that of his loved ones are threatened, he faces a choice: back off, or do what he knows he must do…

  Here’s a sneak preview…

  ONE

  THE SANTA ANA winds are dry and warm - sometimes hot – winds that affect coastal Southern California and northern Baja California from September to March. In fact, they range from hot to cold, depending on the temperatures in the region of origin, namely the Great Basin, which stretches from the Sierra Nevada range in the west to the Wasatch Range in Utah, and Northern Mexico up to Oregon, and the upper Mojave Desert.

  The air from the Mojave Desert is relatively dense owing to its coolness and aridity, and tends to channel down the valleys and canyons in gusts which can attain hurricane force at times. As the air descends, it not only becomes drier, but warmer. The southern California coastal region gets some of its hottest weather of the year when the Santa Anas are blowing. At these times it is more often than not hotter along the coast than in the deserts.

  Tonight was no exception. A warm and dry blast of air blew down the mountain passes. Warm and dry, and easily exceeding 40 mph, they brought with them a thin layer of reddish dust. They were hot too: the Santa Monica weather station’s instruments were recording 98 degrees.

  The man staggered along the empty road. Dressed only in torn white shorts, he weaved back and forth across th
e yellow centre line. He could make out some kind of reflection on the wet road below. He felt down and rubbed his leg. There were scratch marks down to his ankle from the tumble he had taken down the hillside from above. He stopped and looked round, disorientated, blinking.

  Where was he?

  Somewhere high up, he was sure; he could hear, or thought he could hear, the muffled rumbling of traffic below.

  But where exactly?

  And how did he get here?

  He stopped and looked around. He could make out lights above and below, but the road he was on was devoid of any buildings. It was only the light from the moon which gave him any form of illumination.

  There was mist around: as the road disappeared round a bend ahead, and behind as it receded into the dark.

  He felt cold, even though the strong winds blowing down the hillside were hot. He wiped the dust from his eyes, and continued along the road.

  He needed to find shelter, some help.

  After a few more yards’ shuffling, he stopped again. A dog was barking. He looked around, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. A dog would mean someone’s house.

  The barking seemed to be coming from below. Maybe the lights below were from a house. That meant a phone.

  A phone. He could remember using a cell phone earlier that evening. Could remember putting the phone back onto the belt clip he used. Involuntarily, he felt down to his waist. All he could feel was the elastic of his torn, dirty shorts.

  Where were his clothes? How did he end up here?

  He started to walk again, this time towards where he thought the barking, which had now stopped, came from. He rubbed the side of his leg and looked at his hand. Blood. Then looked at his leg. The scratches were bleeding more; not profusely, but they would need attention.

  He veered over to the right hand side of the road, so now he was walking partly on the road, partly on the bumpy verge.

  He paused as he could make out a new source of light. They got closer. Two small separate lights, slightly diffused in the mist. Then the sound of a car engine.

  By now he could make out the vehicle as it came round the bend. It was not coming at him very fast, no doubt because of the mist, which seemed to thicken as the road went downhill. He staggered over to the centre of the road as the car came round the bend. Feebly, he waved his arms in the air. The driver braked, and the car skidded slightly as it came to a halt around ten feet past the man. He ran up to the driver’s door. A grey haired man was driving, with a woman of similar age sitting in front with him. The driver wound down his window.

  ‘What in hell’s going on?’ the driver asked. ‘I could have…’ He stopped as he noticed the figure was wearing only shorts. ‘Jesus H!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘Please, I need help…’ The man rested his hand on the car roof and leaned over.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry, I….’

  ‘Can I borrow your cell phone? I need to make a call.’

  The woman leaned forward and saw him. ‘Tell him to go away, Gus.’

  Gus looked over at her and back at the man. ‘I – I, er…’

  ‘Please, mister. Go away. You’re scaring us,’ the woman said.

  ‘I just need a cell phone for a minute…’

  ‘Sorry, pal,’ said Gus as he wound up the window. ‘We don’t want any trouble.’

  ‘But I just…’

  Gus wound up the window and the car sped away into the darkness and into the mist.

  He watched as the red tail lights faded away into the mist. After a few moments’ pause, he continued to shuffle on. He cried out as he stepped on something sharp. He lifted up his leg and pulled out a sharp stone which had gotten embedded in the sole of his bare foot. Then moved on again.

  Looking down, he could make out some lights. Maybe that was where the barking was coming from. This was the direction from which he could still hear the rumble of traffic.

  He slowly stepped off the road and began to climb down the slope. It was steep in places but he was able to grab onto some bushes for support. As he climbed further down, the undergrowth became thicker. He tried to make out what the vegetation was. The smell seemed familiar: maybe buckbush. As he got further down, he realised he had lost sight of the lights. He panicked slightly as he lost his bearings. Looked around again. No sign of any lights now, but the ambient sound of the traffic below was still there.

  He moved on again.

  After twenty yards or so, the traffic noise was getting louder. Perhaps he should head for there; on a busy road he would stand a better chance of flagging someone down.

  Then he missed his footing. Tried to grab a bush for support, but missed. Landing on his back, he slid down the slope. He cried out as his back was lacerated by the shrubs and rocks as he skimmed over them. He hit an obstruction, a tree stump maybe; rather than stopping his descent, it served to knock him sideways so now he was rolling down. He tried to put his hands in front of him to protect his face, but his momentum was too great. As he rolled down, one side of his head hit some hard ground. Just then, his fall stopped.

  He lay there, dazed. He thought he had reached the end of the drop as he was now lying on level ground. He felt up to his temple: it was wet and sticky. His vision was blurred. He stood up and moved on. Suddenly under his feet he could feel not ground and brush, but a smooth surface. Not unlike the road above. Still disorientated he staggered forward.

  His last sensations were a blinding white light, a loud, deep blare. Then, a microsecond of intense pain as something weighing 35000 lbs slammed into him.

  Then nothing.

  TWO

  SO FAR, JAY Wang was not having a good day. At least it was just after seven, so it would not be long until the next, and hopefully better, day.

  Ironically, this was a day he had been looking forward to for many weeks. It was his girlfriend, Kiera Alvarado’s twenty-third birthday. He had splashed out $111 for two terrace seats for a Norah Jones concert at the Hollywood Bowl: not his first choice for an evening’s entertainment, but she was quite insistent. Then there was the meal: somewhere nice, somewhere stylish, but not too fancy, either before or after the show.

  It was looking as if it would be after the show: after getting off work early, rushing home for a quick shower and change of clothes, and then making the five mile journey down to Kiera’s place in ten minutes, they had experienced nothing but gridlock since they joined the Hollywood Freeway. Now they were headed west on Santa Monica Boulevard, where the traffic was still slow, but less so than on the freeway.

  ‘We’re not gonna make it in time,’ Jay muttered, impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

  ‘I told you we shouldn’t have used the freeway,’ Kiera retorted. ‘Not at this time of day.’

  ‘We’d get held up at this time of day whichever route we took.’

  ‘Not if we’d used Wilshire and Highland.’

  ‘Bullshit. Freeway, residential: it’s all jammed up. Friday rush hour, remember.’

  Kiera snorted and looked out of the window. She swore under her breath as a green light turned amber, then red, before they could get past.

  ‘And what about eating?’ she asked. ‘I can’t wait till after the show. If we ever get there.’

  ‘Jesus, I thought we were going to eat afterwards.’

  ‘Are you serious? It’ll be eleven before we get out.’

  ‘Where do you want to go then?’ Jay snapped back.

  She squinted as she peered ahead, then pointed. About a hundred yards in front of them, across the street, was a large illuminated Denny’s sign.

  ‘Go in there,’ she said.

  ‘Denny’s? We don’t have long, remember?’

  ‘I don’t care. I just need something quick. I’ve not eaten since midday.’

  Once they reached the parking lot entrance, Jay paused for a break in eastbound traffic and pulled in.

  ‘Busy here tonight,’ Jay said as he drove around looking for a space.

&n
bsp; ‘I don’t believe this,’ Kiera moaned as it was quite clear the lot was full.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘It’s no use driving around the lot. Let’s go.’

  ‘Okay.’ Jay eased the Chevy out of the parking lot. The lights at the intersection with Van Ness turned red, so he was able to cross the eastbound lane easily and get back into westbound traffic.

  ‘We’re going to be even later now,’ Kiera grumbled, checking her watch.

  Jay accelerated slightly as the signals they passed changed to red. ‘Not necessarily. We’re at Gower already.’

  ‘And?’ she asked. ‘The show starts in an hour; we have to get all the way to Highland, then find somewhere to park. Plus get something to eat first.’

  Jay looked at his watch, then at the LED clock on the dashboard, as if it was going to tell him an earlier time.

  ‘Tell you what,’ Kiera said. ‘Just get me a burger and fries. Just something quick.’

  ‘Burger and fries? But it’s your birthday – don’t you want something special…?’

  ‘That would have been nice, but I’d rather get to the concert in time.’

  She looked over at Jay and saw the disappointed look on his face. She reached over and held his arm.

  ‘I know you wanted to make tonight special, baby,’ she said softly, ‘but it will be. As long as we get there in time. Think about it. There was no way we were going to get home from work, change, get out here, eat, and get to the Bowl by eight thirty. Not on a weekday.’

  Jay nodded. ‘Okay, baby. If you say so.’

  Both remained silent for the next couple of blocks, then Jay said, ‘There’s a McDonalds on Hollywood, just before Highland.’

  Kiera laughed. ‘Looks like we might have to. You can pull up outside and run in for something.’

  ‘McDonalds,’ Jay scoffed. ‘Okay, if that’s all right with you. Sorry. I’ll make it up to you another time.’

  She put her hand on the top of his leg and moved it up to his thigh. ‘Oh, I know you will.’

  Jay laughed and indicated right, then, turned onto Vine Street. Just past Selma, the traffic ground to a halt again. Jay swore and put on the brake.