by Mitch Goth
The next day, the shades on Vin's home were drawn. The doors were all locked. All the guns in the house were loaded and at the ready. Two guards sat watch in a car down the block. Every precaution was taken and Vin was quaint with staying safe, calm, and alone all day. But a loud knocking at his door brought that dream to a swift death.
Vin opened the door cautiously, his hand wrapped around his holstered pistol. His grip quickly weakened when he saw the face a police officer on his front step. He couldn't help but breathe a silent sigh of relief.
"Can I help you, officer?" Vin opened his door all the way.
"Yes, Mr. Reese, my name is Sergeant Leyland," the officer introduced himself, "I'm just wondering if I could have a few words with you."
"Of course," Vin let the officer in and lead him to the study. He sat in his usual spot while Leyland sat in the chair across the end table. "What can I do you for?"
"We've had people claim they saw a known runaway in this area," Leyland explained, "a certain Rain Phillipa. I'm just wondering if you've seen anything, or anyone lately."
"What's she look like?" Vin inquired.
Leyland pulled out the picture he'd gotten from the Phillipa's and handed it to Vin. Vin looked it over with a faux expression of interest.
"I think I've heard some things about her, but I haven't heard all that much," Vin shrugged, handing the photo back.
"It's funny you say that," Leyland replied, replacing the picture in his pocket.
"Oh, really?" Vin chuckled.
"Something laughable about this?" Leyland spoke humorlessly.
"I find it funny that you find my words funny," Vin explained with a smile. "Its one girl in a massive city. Don't expect every person to have seen her with their own eyes."
"I find it funny that you've never seen her before," Leyland retorted. "Especially seeing as several of your neighbors reported seeing her enter and leave your house several nights back. Wanna tell me what that's all about?"
"You came to grill me over eyewitness testimony?" Vin laughed again. "If I know my neighbors like I think I know my neighbors, I'm going to guess and say the people you talked to were in their seventies, perhaps eighties. Am I right?"
"I'm not a liberty to discuss the case that openly."
"That's a yes," Vin scoffed. "You think that'll hold up anywhere? I'd be surprised if they could see a firework show going across the street, and you're telling me they saw a seventeen year old girl come in and out of my house at night?"
"So you've never seen her before?" Leyland wondered.
"Correct," Vin nodded.
"Not heard much about her either?"
"Once again, correct. You are on a roll, officer," Vin spoke condescendingly.
"Can I ask another question?" Leyland ignored Vin's insults.
"That's what you're here for," Vin grinned.
"What do you know about Delicate Rain?" Leyland couldn't help but find solace in the swift shattering of Vin's smug smile.
"What a guy like me know about drugs?" Vin asked innocently.
"I never said it was a drug," Leyland pointed out slyly.
"Perhaps I heard about it on the news."
"Its only a few days old, it hasn't ever been on the news yet."
"Perhaps a good assumption, I suppose," Vin's smile returned.
"Don't bullshit me, Vin," Leyland sneered. "I know you cover tracks better than any peddler in this town. I know I'll never get you on it. All I want to know is how you named it. It seemed peculiar."
"Why, sergeant, you're not in a drug unit," Vin observed, "why would you want to know about such a thing? Let the higher ups worry about it."
"Normally I would," Leyland shrugged. "Like some two-bit slinger who got shot dead yesterday with a small fortune of the stuff on him, that's the drug unit's problem. But not now, now all I want to know is the title. Where'd it come from?"
"A drug with the word 'rain' hits the streets and you think it has something to do with a missing kid who's named Rain who some octogenarian folks think was outside my house several nights ago? Seems mighty thin, officer."
"Seems like quite the connection you just made there, Mr. Reese," Leyland retorted.
"Look," Vin sighed, "you've asked your questions, and then some. If you're looking to find this kid, I would suggest that you search someplace else, someplace more fruitful than my home."
"Where would you suggest?" Leyland wondered, rising from his seat and sauntering towards the foyer.
"Alaska," Vin answered smartly, "or Bangladesh."
"I'll keep that under advisement," Leyland said. He was about to head out the door when he stopped and turned back around. "Just one more question, Mr. Reese."
"Might as well," Vin gestured for the sergeant to speak.
"How'd you know she was seventeen?" Leyland inquired. "I didn't say it, you did. How'd you know?"
"Who? Rain?" Vin replied. "The news, of course."
"How unbelievably convenient," Leyland finally headed for the door. "Regards to your dealer's family."
Before Vin could respond to this jab, Leyland was gone. Vin hopped up from his seat and locked the front door once again.
"Son of a bitch," he grumbled as he returned to his seat. He'd always despised cops, especially when they were fishing for information on him.
But, this encounter with Leyland got Vin thinking. How'd those blind bats in his neighborhood know who to look for well enough to spot Rain in the short spurts between walking to and from his house? Maybe the media coverage was more extreme than he thought. He'd always regretted not watching more news, now more than ever.
Vin poured himself a drink and lit up a cigar. His thoughts wandered off in an instant, as they often did while he sat in his parlor. Why did Leyland ask about Delicate Rain? It was a very big stretch for the man to make to connect those two. It was nothing more than conjecture on Leyland's part. But, if that was true, why would he think to bring it up? It had to mean something, Vin just didn't know what. If it was just a guess on the officer's part, inquiring about it unsolicited was very dangerous. So maybe, just maybe, it wasn't only conjecture. Maybe there was something behind the connection. Vin didn't know, but it had him bothered. He finished off his drink in a flash, a temporary alleviation to these stresses. But they crept back again, far quicker than they had before.
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