After the Rain

by Philip Cox

  ‘Just walk her back? He wasn’t planning on staying over?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I wouldn’t have done, but like I said, Adam is different to me. In more ways than one.

  ‘Anyhow, Davenport isn’t particularly big. If you are going out on the piss, obviously you can’t take the car. Either you get a cab or walk. This bar, Shots -’

  ‘As in drinks, or guns?’ interrupted Ben.

  ‘Drinks. The bar is at one end of the main street, the apartment complex is about ten minutes’ cab ride away, and the villa Stacey’s group was staying at is about the same, but in the other direction. So, if they left at half eleven, assuming he didn’t stay over, he should have been back at the bar by midnight, back at our place say twelve fifteen, twelve thirty at the latest.’

  ‘How do you know he went straight back?’ asked Ben.

  ‘When nobody could find him the next morning, the first place they went to was Stacey’s. She said they took a cab back to her place, chatting about this and that, he kissed her good night, and left in the same cab.’

  ‘Was that the last anyone saw of him?’

  ‘Yes. Next morning, when they noticed he wasn’t in his bed, they assumed he had stayed over at Stacey’s. It wasn’t until that evening that they called on Stacey and she told them he hadn’t stayed over. They looked around for a couple of hours, he hadn’t taken the car they’d hired; he wasn’t in any of the usual haunts they frequented.’

  Ben was getting quite involved in this: a contrast to his narcissism of an hour or so ago. ‘What about his mobile?’

  Craig shook his head. ‘No luck. They rang it of course, but it went to voicemail every time. Then they rang my father, who flew out with one of our sisters.’

  ‘What about emails?’

  Craig shook his head again. ‘My father found a note of his password, and we got into his emails: inbox, sent, deleted, but didn’t find anything. The last email is dated two days before he flew out there. He’s got a Facebook page, but no joy there; ditto his last entry.’

  ‘What did they find when they got there?’

  ‘By the time they got there, the other guys in his group had already gone to the police.’

  ‘What did they say?’

  ‘They said,’ Craig paused for a moment. ‘That he would have to be missing for another twenty-four hours before they could do anything. Luckily Dad is on quite good terms with the local police so they unofficially started looking earlier than they would normally.’

  ‘Did they find anything? Where did they look?’

  ‘Well, as far as I know, they searched around the route Adam and Stacey would have taken, and the route back to the apartment. Then they did a bit of door to door stuff, but came up with nothing. Dad and my sister Karen made copies of a have you seen this man poster and nailed it to trees, lampposts and stuff in the town, but nobody’s called yet. They both had to fly back to the UK after a few days but the police have been keeping in touch by phone and email.’

  ‘Has anybody tried your brother’s phone again? When was it used last?’

  ‘One of us has dialled it every day, two or three times probably, but it always goes to voicemail. The other day I managed to figure out his password and accessed his phone account online. The last call he made was at ten past midnight the night he disappeared.’

  ‘Who did he call?’

  ‘It was my dad’s number. But there’s a five hour time difference and he’d gone to bed. By the time he’d woken up, and got to the phone, Adam had rung off.’

  ‘Did he leave a message or anything?’

  ‘No. Nothing. Dad tried to ring back, but no answer of course. But the weird thing is: the police got a subpoena or whatever to the phone network, and they said there was a signal at 12:17 which would have been his call to Dad, but there was another at around 5 am.’

  Chapter Four

  ‘DID YOU FIND that when you went online?’ Ben asked.

  ‘No, that’s the weird thing. Also, the signal at 12:17 came from the Orlando area, which you would have expected, but the 5am signal was from Miami, well over two hundred miles away.’

  ‘Is he likely to have gone there?’

  ‘He wouldn’t, as far as I know. And not in the middle of the night.’

  ‘What do you mean, he wouldn’t? I thought he was on his own when he took Stacey back,’ said Ben.

  ‘He was. No, I mean, it’s very unlikely Adam would have just gone there. In any case, how would he have got there, in the middle of the night? We did wonder if he’d been mugged, but surely he would have turned up by now?’

  ‘So, what are you going to do?’ Ben asked.

  ‘I’m going to fly over in a day or so,’ said Craig. ‘On my own this time. Dad’s so hysterical, keeps having to call Mum and the rest of the family. At least on my own I can do things at my pace and get some leg work in.’

  ‘Are your parents still out there? And what about your brother’s friends?’

  ‘Dad was going to fly out, but changed his mind when I said I would go. Deep down he knows he’s not good in a crisis. And he says he can rely on me. He said he may go over after a week or so. Adam’s friends have come home; they had their return flights booked of course, and didn’t feel there was any reason to stay.’

  ‘How long do you plan to go for?’ Ben asked.

  Craig shrugged his shoulders and took a mouthful of coffee. ‘Thinking of a ten day round trip. A week might not be enough, especially if I have to take in Miami as well. Then I have to be back for work.’

  ‘When do you leave?’

  ‘Couple of days, just need to get the flights booked. At least I don’t have to worry about the accommodation. The apartment will be empty until next month. Work said to take as much time as I needed, just keep them in the loop, so to speak.’

  Craig looked up at the clock. It was one thirty. ‘Shit, sorry didn’t mean to take up so much of your night. You must be knackered.’

  Ben shook his head. ‘No problem. Hope it helped, talking to somebody about it. I’d probably do in the same circumstances.’

  Craig finished his by now stone cold coffee and stood up. ‘I’ll be off now. Let you get to bed.’

  Ben walked him to the door. ‘Well good luck. I hope everything goes okay for you all. If there’s anything you need -’

  Craig turned to face him in the doorway. ‘Thanks, I will.’ He paused a beat, then gave Ben a brief hug. Ben was surprised, but said nothing. Obviously Craig was upset.

  Seeming slightly embarrassed, Craig walked down the stairs and into the night.

  Ben closed the front door and sat back down on the sofa. He finished his mug of cold coffee. He noticed a couple of tablets on the floor under the coffee table: he must have dropped these when he cleared up hurriedly earlier. He scooped them up and put them back in the bottle.

  ‘Grow up, Rook,’ he muttered, and walked into his bedroom.

  Sleep seemed to elude him for what was left of the night: he kept going over in his head what Craig had told him. In a way he felt slightly ashamed at what he had been planning to do earlier; his old grandmother’s maxim about there always being somebody worse off did have an element of truth to it.

  After what seemed like hours but probably was not, he noticed the first streaks of daylight coming through his bedroom curtains. He looked at his bedside clock: almost five thirty. He lay back for a moment, then got up and walked into his lounge and picked up his phone. He redialled Craig Williams’ number. Craig answered after four rings.

  ‘Ben, is that you? You still awake?’

  ‘I’ve had some sleep. Look, I’ve been thinking, have you gone online yet, to book that flight I mean?’

  ‘No, I was going to do that later.’

  ‘Well, don’t.’

  ‘I don’t understand you. What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean hold on. Don’t do anything today, but come round here tonight, about seven. I need to sort some things out at work.’

  ‘I still don�
��t get what you mean.’

  ‘What I mean is this: come round tonight and we’ll book two tickets.’

  ‘Two tickets?’

  ‘Yes. Two tickets. I’m going to Florida with you.’

  Chapter Five

  TWO DAYS LATER, Ben and Craig were sitting together 33,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean. The Virgin Atlantic 747 from London Heathrow to Miami slowly banked to the right as it began its descent into the International Airport, some seven or eight miles from Downtown.

  Ben peered out of the window at the vista below. Through the faint wisps of cloud he could see miles and miles of azure ocean. Over to their far right he could make out a land mass.

  ‘Over there?’ he pointed.

  Craig leaned over and peered through the window. ‘Bahamas I guess. We should be landing soon.’

  Just as he said that, they heard a ping, the seatbelt lights came on, and the cabin steward announced the beginning of their descent.

  ‘See. Told you,’ muttered Craig. They both laughed.

  ‘And it was definitely easier to fly here than Orlando?’ Ben asked, not really disguising the sarcasm in his voice. ‘You know, where your brother was staying, two hundred miles north?’

  ‘You were with me when we booked the flights,’ retorted Craig. ‘Flights to Orlando full until early next week. Unless you wanted to pay over a grand.’

  ‘No I didn’t. Perhaps it’s school holidays: all those family trips.’

  Craig nodded. ‘Could be. In any case, once we land, we can hire a car. The drive should only take five hours tops. We should be there by eleven.’

  He pointed to a long stretch of sand. ‘That’s South Beach over there. It looks busy.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t go sun worshipping,’ said Ben. ‘At least that’s what you told me the other night.’

  ‘No, I don’t mind it. It was Adam’s type of holiday I didn’t like. You know, getting hammered and laid every night.’

  ‘And your problem with getting laid?’ Ben said, then hoping the woman sitting in the aisle seat couldn’t hear them.

  ‘None at all. It’s just, well: my brother and I had different ideas, that’s all. Shit, I said had, meant to say have.’

  Ben was not sure what to say. He patted Craig on the arm. ‘I’m sure it’s have. Have you been to Miami before?’

  ‘Now and then. If I got bored hanging around with Adam and his mates, or the rest of the family for that matter, I’d drive down here just for a change.’

  Ben studied the terrain as the aircraft continued its descent. The endless blue sea had been replaced by beaches, then a grid of roads leading to the airport.

  The aircraft flew parallel with the busy Dolphin Expressway Highway 836 as it completed its descent, and touched down on the runway. After five minutes’ taxiing and a short wait on the tarmac for a vacant gate, they finally came to a standstill and the pilot cut the engines. In spite of the cabin crew’s pleas for everybody to remain in their seats until they had stopped moving, most of the passengers had by now released their seatbelts, stood up, got their luggage from the overhead lockers and were scrambling to queue for the exit doors.

  Craig sat back and stretched. ‘That happens every time,’ he said. ‘So much of a hurry to get off the plane, then they wish they hadn’t when they get outside and the heat hits them.’

  Ben looked out: the traffic on the 836 was speeding by in the distance; another aircraft, Delta, was just coming in to land; two airport vehicles, one a fuel tanker, the other Ben guessed was to collect the baggage were arriving. He could see the heat haze almost distorting his view. ‘Hm. It looks hot. How hot would you say?’

  ‘It would be about 30, that’s about 85 Fahrenheit I think. I told you to pack light clothes.’

  Picking up their hand luggage, a backpack each, Ben and Craig waited until they were the last passengers remaining. Bidding farewell to the cabin crew waiting in the doorway, they walked along the corridor to the gate and started the brief walk to the arrival hall.

  After immigration, they made their way to the baggage carousel, and had a brief wait for their bags. When they booked the flights they also pre-booked their car hire, a metallic blue Ford Fusion in this case.

  ‘We need to catch a shuttle bus to the car hire lots.’ Craig pointed to the doors leading to the bus pick up spots.

  After almost an hour, they had signed all the paperwork, and were getting into their car.

  The parking lot was situated just around the corner from the entrance to the Dolphin Expressway; within minutes they were on the Expressway heading east. Shortly they were turning left onto the busy I-95.

  Craig was driving first; they had agreed to swap after a hundred miles or so. ‘We take this road all the way up, more or less all the way to Orlando,’ he said.

  ‘Good,’ said Ben, settling down in his seat. ‘Think I’ll try to doze before I take over.’

  ‘Doze?’ exclaimed Craig, looking over his shoulder as he changed lanes. ‘You were dozing most of the flight.’

  ‘Half of it. You were asleep most of the flight. Anyhow, haven’t been sleeping well recently.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  *****

  The hundred mile moment came just outside Fort Pierce. It was almost dark by this time: Craig was getting tired and both men needed the bathroom and something to eat. He nudged Ben awake as they pulled in to a roadside diner.

  After a quick meal and bathroom visit, they were back in the car, resuming their journey north up the I-95.

  It was just after ten o’clock when they saw a sign for Highway 528. ‘Take the 528 east,’ Craig indicated to Ben, who had been driving since the diner. They duly turned on to the 528, which in turn lead them to the I-4; they took this south west and turned off when they saw the sign for Davenport.

  The apartment complex, quaintly named Atlantic Breeze Homes, was just two minutes away from the Highway exit. They pulled into the main driveway, and Craig guided Ben to the building where the apartment was situated. They paused for a moment to let another Ford, a black Windstar, pull out of a parking space, then parked in the space it had vacated.

  Ben put the car into Park, and switched off the engine. He let out a loud sigh and sat back in his seat.

  Craig peered out at the building, and then flopped back too. He looked over at Ben. ‘Welcome to the United States!’

  Chapter Six

  OUT OF THE corner of one eye Ben could see daylight filtering through the side of the window blind. He looked at his watch: it was six-fifteen.

  ‘Jeez,’ he groaned, rubbing his face, ‘is that all it is?’

  He climbed out of bed, shuffled over to the window, and pulled up the blind. He squinted as the sunlight burst into the room. He took in the view: the apartment was on the third floor of the building, just high enough, he reflected, as he was only wearing his shorts. He could look down onto an expanse of well watered lawn, in front of another apartment building only two storeys high. Beyond that was an elevated highway, the I-4 Ben assumed, looking quite busy even at this ungodly hour.

  He adjusted himself in his shorts, and then realized he needed the bathroom. As he walked down the short hallway to the bathroom he could hear the shower running. Assuming it could only be Craig, he opened the door a few inches.

  ‘You in there, Craig? I need a piss. Do you mind?’

  Craig called out from the shower. ‘No, be my guest.’

  Ben was just finishing when Craig stepped out of the shower. Dripping wet, he leaned over to the towel rail and pulled off a bath towel.

  ‘You’re up early,’ Ben said, looking round.

  Craig towelled his auburn hair, then started to dry his body. ‘Couldn’t sleep. Same as you, obviously. Our bodies think it’s early afternoon. You wait till tonight.’ He wrapped the towel around him, and walked into his bedroom, but not before Ben noticed the remains of a scar down the left side of his chest.

  ‘I’ll sort out some breakfast,’ he called out. ‘They lef
t loads of food in the fridge.’

  By seven fifteen they had both showered, shaved and dressed and were sitting on opposite sides of the breakfast bar in the apartment lounge. Craig had managed to find some coffee, eggs and long life milk in the fridge.

  ‘So what’s the plan today?’ asked Ben, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.

  ‘I think the first thing we need to do is go to the police headquarters. My father said he had several conversations with a Lieutenant Sanchez, who seems to be in charge of the case. We’ll see what he knows.’

  ‘Will he tell us anything? You know, confidentiality and all that.’

  ‘I don’t see why not. After all, I am Adam’s next of kin.’ He drank some coffee, and pulled a face. ‘This coffee’s awful. Tastes off.’

  ‘Mine’s all right. Won’t he have a problem with us asking around as well?’

  ‘Don’t see why. In any case, how can he stop us? He’s had no success in finding where Adam went, and as long as we don’t break any laws, why can’t we look around?’

  Ben nodded thoughtfully. ‘Then what?’

  ‘Well, depending on what this Sanchez guy says, I think we could go to that Shots bar and see if any of the bar staff know anything.’

  ‘Did you say that the girl he left with - what was her name again?’

  ‘Stacey? She was apparently visiting town. That’s all I know at present. I assume she’s American, but not necessarily.’

  ‘And she won’t be around?’

  ‘Don’t expect so now. I’m assuming the police interviewed her, but they’re not going to tell us where she lives, are they?’

  Ben shook his head. ‘No, I guess not.’

  They both sat quietly eating until Ben broke the silence. ‘What’s Adam like?’