The Golden Years

And Now, The Weather

Wind driven sheets of rain slanted down, drenching properties, flooding roads and threatening age-old palm trees, the leaves of some flying dangerously close to the few cars caught still driving. Cell phones lost their signals, leaving the town's population isolated.

Tremendous thunder crashes and lightening streaks added to the chaos. Pools flooded and immediately went on drain, adding to the water already swirling over the roads. Emergency vehicles threw fountains of water as they ploughed through, their flashing lights reflecting everywhere.

Eddie followed Riley's instructions for her swimming pool while she dragged furniture to shelter, preventing it from blowing away. The house revealed a few areas of poor sealing, and towels were rushed into service to protect some rugs and furniture.

"Wow! I never dreamed you got rain like this down here." He dried himself after peeling off his wet clothes.

"Never many like this," she replied. "Usually they last about twenty-minutes, then another half hour and the sand soaks it all up." She re-tied her dressing gown. "This one won't be like that." She took his wet clothes and put them in the dryer. "Will that towel do, or do you want something of Tom's? I still have a few things in drawers."

"If you don't mind, I'll stick with the towel, thanks." He tugged it a little tighter. "You still have power, that's one good thing. Sitting this out in the dark would be a very uncomfortable experience." He flinched at another thunder crack. "I wonder what the Palm Sands is like right now. I feel for the old folks staying there."

"The landline still works if you wanted to call."

"Nah, leave that free for real emergencies." He tried the TV and found the local cable station still on. "Hey, check this. TV is working."

They watched for a few minutes, learning about what was in, out, on, and off, and when the storm was expected to pass.

"Well that's not too long - sometime tonight. We still have power so we can cook."

"That was a dinner hint, right?"

"We have to eat, Riley. If we are going to poke around, we need to be strong."

"I'm not going to hear the end of that am I?"

He laughed. "Nope."

******

It was around four in the morning when the rain had suddenly stopped along with the wind, and the sky was just beginning to brighten slightly. Ashby stepped out onto Brian's balcony and look across the slopes of Twin Hills. With the exception of a few downed palm trees, he could see no sign of the storm that had passed through.

Brian turned on a few lights, stumbling from his bedroom and joining Ashby on the balcony.

"Figured you'd still be here." He yawned and took in the scene.

"Yeah, thanks for the hospitality."

"Nobody asked you here." Brian went back inside to the kitchen.

"I came here to help, Helms." Ashby followed him.

"Yourself, maybe."

"Okay, so what if I did? I thought we might help each other."

The container of juice was pushed toward Ashby, suggesting he might help himself to that. Brian gulped down a large glassful.

"You said yourself it was all over. Everyone's been rounded up and in Federal custody."

"Not everyone. We aren't - and neither is whoever headed the whole thing up."

"Don't start with Monestario again." Brian refilled his glass.

"Who else is there?" Ashby paused, and looked at his reluctant host. "Unless . . ."

"What? Oh, for Christ's sake!" The glass slammed against the counter and Brian crossed his arms stubbornly. "Get the hell out of here, Gavin, before I throw you out."

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes." The voice startled them both, and Gavin fell back against the counter, clutching his chest. "It seems we need some enlightening."

"Jim? Jim . . . what- how did you get in?" his breath quickening, Brian stared.

"Least of your concerns, Brian." Jim looked at Ashby. "You alright, Gavin? Maybe some water?"

Pain registered in his negative reply, as he leaned on the counter. He was right, and now he wished the hell he wasn't. Jim Monestario, the head of the snake.

"Then let's all get comfortable shall we?" Jim indicated they go to the living room, and both men complied.

******

"I'm impressed, no pun intended this time," she smiled, watching him finish ironing his pants.

"You live alone long enough you realize there are a lot of things that go into what and who you are. I took a lot of what Ellie did for granted - stuff like this. I mean I thanked her, but then I guess I also expected it."

"Woman's work."

"I know." He unplugged the iron and emptied the excess water into the sink.

"In the cupboard behind you, on the heat pad."

"See, I would have just left it on the counter."

"Along with a heat mark." She expertly folded up the ironing board and put it away. "I'll make some coffee while you get dressed."

Eddie came back to the kitchen, frowning at a small double crease on one leg of his pants. Riley was gathering wet towels from the leaks and marching them to her laundry room.

"I'd have done that," he said. "Man's work."

She laughed and got their coffees from the kitchen. "So, Mr. Detective, what is the plan?"

"Maybe we should pay your friend, Brian a visit. Find out just why he wasn't rounded up with the rest."

"I don't know if I want to see him," she twisted the ring on her finger.

"I'll go, not a problem. Just give me directions. Might even be better, a stranger bracing him."

"I don't- would it be safe?"

Eddie set his mug down. "Trust me, Riley, been there, done that, many, many times." He took her hand, his thumb on the ring. "We both have past personal issues to deal with. Don't let them dictate what remains."

Her voice caught, and she sniffed back a threatening tear. "I know . . . guilt is a difficult companion."

"Look at us," he sat back smiling. "Philosophers after the storm. How about those directions?"