AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Do you know where to?”
“They didn’t tell me nothin’ on account I was so lower class to their level of people,” she said with a curl of her lip. Then with a shrug, she added, “Though I thought it might be south o’ here somewhere.”
“San Diego?”
She made a face. “Not that far. I don’t rightly remember.”
Rex asked her some more questions, but Marlena had started to wind down. He’d been in her apartment less than half an hour, but its darkness and a cloying scent of sour milk were getting to him. He thanked her and got up to leave.
“You come back again,” she told him. “I’ll tell you more.”
He wasn’t convinced she had more to tell, but he said, “I may do that,” and headed out her door, closing it behind him. As he turned toward the parking lot and his car, he heard her thumping her way after him to the door, no doubt to turn the lock again.
To date, his research had turned up a lot of Ralph Gaineses in Southern California. Apart from the one who’d resided in Costa Mesa, none had filled the bill to be the one he was searching for. Maybe Elizabeth’s adopted father hadn’t stayed in the state. Beth Harper h
ad thought Colorado, so maybe he should turn his attention there.
Why do you care? he asked himself as he drove away. This job isn’t likely to be a moneymaker. So far, there’d been no money at all, but that was his own fault. Still, he had to question his own motivation. What’s your end game, Rex?
The perplexing answer was, he really didn’t know. He’d signed on to help Ravinia, and he knew that, even after giving himself a good talking to, he wasn’t going to change his mind.
Channing Renfro heard the rain pounding on the top of his convertible and it turned his black mood even blacker. Goddamn pansy-ass drivers didn’t know how to fucking move in this stuff and when they did, they jagged from lane to lane and he was damn lucky he hadn’t been clipped by that Fiesta. He’d laid on the horn for all he was worth and had yelled “Fuck you!” over and over again, but what had the middle-aged white woman in the Fiesta done? Nothing. Just kept on white-knuckling it down the road, eyes glued straight ahead, mouth probably open in fear and stupidity. Bitch never even looked back.
He was lucky he’d made it to the club without a scratch, although this goddamn rain wasn’t doing his paint job any good. Oh, sure it was beading up on the hood of his BMW; he’d paid enough for the detailing that it goddamn better be, or he’d be in that asshole’s face again, the one that had done the work and charged him a fucking ransom.
It was a short jog to the front doors, but he didn’t feel like getting wet, so he sat in his car and fumed. There was an app on his phone, he recalled, something that skinny bitch, Delia, had suggested he get. She was gone, good riddance, but the app remained and he was pretty sure it was something to do with weather. Picking up his iPhone, he scrolled through several screens. Ah, yeah. Dark Sky. That was it. Clicking on it, he learned the rain was going to stop in his area in about ten minutes. Fine. Good. He’d wait.
Delia, Channing thought, now that his mind had touched on her. What a goddamn bitch. Moving out of their rental house . . . leaving him and John with the total rent. He oughtta sue her ass. Drag her into court. Make her pay. John didn’t have any money. Maybe a few bucks from the valet job he had, but most of that went to entertaining the ladies. It was those ladies that had turned Delia into such a screaming witch. She was always thinking Channing was screwing one of ’em. Okay. Maybe he had, but it was just one. And that was because he was so stoned he didn’t know who he was with. Well, he knew he wasn’t with Delia, but he didn’t care which of John’s women he’d ended up with, and then old faithful had kinda let him down anyway, which concerned him, but he wasn’t going to tell Delia that part.
He reached down and adjusted his balls through his sweatpants and thought gloomily about his sex drive. Something was a little bit off there. Delia had told him not to take all those natural supplements, but he’d kinda just wanted to slap her. Maybe they weren’t helping, and well, the steroids . . . his skin had sure broken out in a bunch of big, red zits. “Fuckin’ A,” he muttered.
What he needed was a good workout. Glancing through the windshield through the dark, he saw several other cars circling the lot, their headlights washing over him. Everybody wanted to be close to the doors.
Maybe he should just run for it. Fucking rain.
Scratching at one of the zits on his left shoulder, he glanced at Dark Sky again and saw that the rain was almost over. He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes and started counting. He got to thirty-four and stopped. It was boring to count.
He glanced through the windshield. Rain was pretty much over. He grabbed up his cell phone, stretching back and lifting his right hip so he could stick the phone into his pocket. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel a few minutes then threw open the door, sick of waiting.
Stepping out of the BMW, he threw an angry look to the heavens. The rain had stopped, but that didn’t make him any happier. Weather report said it was coming right back. He hated the rain.
Across the way, he saw a guy get out of a car, no hat, oblivious to the precipitation. Kinda pissed Channing off. He could practically hear his mother saying, “It is just rain, you little shit,” or something to that effect. Made him miss her, though she’d been a worse bitch than Delia, in truth. Most of the time, he was glad she was gone.
He reached back inside for his gym bag, which was on the passenger seat. Blam! Something hit him alongside the head and the next thing he knew he was sprawled on the wet pavement. “Wha . . . wha . . . ?” He tried to get up but was hit again. Blam! He saw stars. And little cuckoo birds swimming around in a circle. Just like the fucking cartoons.
Dully, he heard noise, something funny . . . out of the ordinary. A whoosh . . . and heat and the smell . . . gasoline....
His eyes opened. My car! Some fucker had hit it with a Molotov cocktail!
He got a knee underneath himself.
Bam!
Pain exploded against the back of his head.
He was slammed back down to the ground. He tried to catch his breath, to stay awake. He was rolled over forcefully, a heavy shoe turning him.
What the fuck?
