Read Fly the Rain Online

Authors: Robert Burton Robinson

Tags: #fiction, #mystery, #suspense

Fly the Rain

Fly the Rain

Robert Burton Robinson

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2008 Robert Burton Robinson.

Cover background:
www.flickr.com/photos/ellenm1

Greg Tenorly Suspense Series

Bicycle Shop Murder

Hideaway Hospital Murders

Illusion of Luck

Fly the Rain

Discover other titles by Robert Burton
Robinson at:

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RobertBurtonRobinson.com

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Synopsis

When Greg Tenorly gets an invitation to his
dad’s 75th birthday party, Cynthia convinces him to go, and to use
the occasion to finally make things right with his estranged
father.

But the war of words Greg is dreading
becomes the least of his worries after he and his family cross
paths with a cold-blooded killer.

Chapter
1

Jason had been sitting alone at his table,
staring at the tall, platinum blonde for an hour. His imagination
ran wild with thoughts of kissing her full lips while his hands
explored her lean, muscled body. Tonight he didn’t need the whiskey
to warm him up. But he kept drinking it anyway.

She stepped away from the mike, sat her
acoustic guitar on its stand, and walked down from the small
stage.

Jason beat all the other losers to the bar
and sat down beside her.


You must be pretty thirsty
after all that beautiful singing.”

How many times had she
heard
that
line? But at age 33, she’d probably heard every pickup line
known to man. “Yeah,” she said, giving him a quick glance. He
wasn’t a bad looking guy. Probably a couple of inches shorter than
her. At six-foot-two, she was accustomed to that. But a lot of men
couldn’t deal with her height. They liked to be the tall one in the
relationship. Not that she’d had many
relationships
. Mostly
one-nighters.

Without her saying a word, the bartender sat
a glass of ice down in front of her, and poured her a can of Diet
Coke.


Thanks, Joe.” She took a
sip as he walked away.


I’m Jason.”


Sondra,” she said, looking
straight ahead as she took another sip.


I really enjoyed your
music—especially that last song. Did you write it
yourself?”


Yeah.”


Wow. It was sad, but
moving. You’ve got talent.”

Here we go, she thought. And I suppose
you’re a talent agent or a record producer, or you’ve got a friend
in the business. And you’d be more than happy to get me a record
deal—assuming I’d be willing to go with you right now to some
sleazy motel.


I’m sick of this business.
In fact, you just heard my last performance. First thing Monday
morning I’m going out to find me a
real
job. One that will pay the
bills.”


Really? Hey, I might have a
job for you.”

She did a quick scan. The expensive suit
screamed corporate. So, if this guy worked for some big company,
maybe he really could get her a job. There were lots of big
companies in Houston. And she was good with a computer—sort of.
Didn’t know much about Microsoft Office, but she was a wiz on the
web. “What kind of job?”


As my
secretary.”


Is this where you normally
find your secretaries—in a bar?”


Well, no. But there’s
something about you. I think you’d be perfect.”

She knew she was probably getting her hopes
up for nothing. But when you’re lost in the darkness of depression
you tend to walk toward the light.

**********

Judging by the neighborhood and the size of
his house, Sondra figured Jason to be near the bottom of his
company’s organizational chart. But as long as he could hook her up
with a decent job, she’d be happy.


Make yourself comfortable,”
he said, offering his black leather couch. “What can I get you—a
Budweiser? Wine cooler?” He opened the refrigerator door, waiting
to fill her order.


Diet Coke.”


Is that all you drink? No
booze?”


I like to stay
clear-headed.”


I don’t. The only
diet
drink I have is
water.”


That’ll be
fine.”

He grabbed a bottled water and a beer. “So,
how do you like my place?”


It’s nice. Now, tell me
more about this job.”

Jason walked around the
large glass-topped coffee table to the other end of the couch, and
reached out and handed her the water. Then he tipped his beer
bottle back and gulped down a third of it. “Well, of course, you’d
have to
apply
for the job.”


And then you’d hire
me?”

He sat the beer bottle down on the coffee
table. “Look, you’re not really serious about changing careers, are
you? I mean, you’re just too good at your music.”


You got a job for me or
not?”


Well, sure, if that’s what
you really want.”


You’re lying.”

He was half-drunk, and couldn’t keep himself
from smiling. “Okay—you got me.”


I should have known
better.” She slammed the water bottle down on the coffee
table.


Aw, come on, Baby. I just
couldn’t resist. You can’t blame a guy for going after your hot
bod.”

She felt so foolish. Here she was—way out in
the suburbs with this creep. And her car was downtown at the
bar.

He slid over closer to her. “I’m sure guys
are always wanting to get into your pants. Hey, I don’t mind
paying.”

Before she could back away, he clamped his
arms around her and tried to kiss her.

She turned her head, and tried to wrestle
free.

But he was a strong drunk.

Then she felt her bra unhook. One of his
hands was playfully working its way around to the chest.

She slammed her forehead downward into his
nose.

He screamed, and released her.

She jumped up and ran for the front door.
Then she remembered her purse. It was on the couch beside him. She
would need money for a bus or a taxi. Besides, the purse had
information she didn’t want him to get his hands on.

She ran back to the couch. He was still
moaning and holding his bloody nose with both hands. She snatched
up the purse and turned to go. But suddenly his hands were grabbing
her from behind.


You’re not going anywhere.
You broke my nose! You
owe
me,” he seethed.


Let go of me. I don’t owe
you anything.
You
owe
me
an apology. Get your nasty hands off me!”

Sondra tried with all her strength to pull
away, but only managed to pull him along with her.

He spun her around. “You can’t get away from
me.” He laughed at her.

She spit in his face.

He became enraged and slapped her hard. “So,
you like it rough, huh?”

She fired her knee up in between his legs,
fully intending to launch his groin to the moon.

He cringed, and loosened his grip, but not
fully, as she had expected. Must be numb from all that alcohol, she
thought.


This will be a lot better
for both of us if you’ll just settle down and cooperate,” he said.
“You’re not gonna get away without giving me what I want. So, you
might as well give in now. Just relax and enjoy.”


Well…okay. Whatever. I’ve
done worse guys than you, I guess,” she said calmly.


I’m sure you
have.”


Let’s just get it over
with.” She reached down and began to unbuckle his belt.


There you go,” he said,
easing his grip on her.


I want to go down where the
action is,” she said, slowly dropping to her knees as she unzipped
his pants.


Oh, Baby.” He let his arms
fall to his sides.

She pulled his pants and his boxers down to
his ankles.


I knew you were gonna be
good,” he said under his breath. He closed his eyes in
anticipation.

She jumped to her feet.

He opened his eyes just as she shoved him in
the chest with both hands. He tried to catch himself by stepping
backwards, but his feet were tangled in his pants. He now realized
that she had tied his belt snugly around his ankles. In the
split-second that passed as he fell, he remembered the glass-topped
coffee table behind him. He wasn’t sure how close he was. But if he
landed on top of it and the glass broke, his body could be cut in
half. He reached back with both hands to try to break his fall.

Then he realized that his butt was getting
close to the floor and had not touched the table. His back had
missed the table too. Maybe he would be okay. Then he would untie
his feet, catch her and beat her face to a bloody pulp.

But then his head hit the table—like a
watermelon that fell out of a shopping cart onto the concrete
grocery store floor. Cleanup needed on Aisle Thirteen.

His body lay flat on the plush carpet,
except for his head, which was tilted up at a ninety-degree angle,
oozing blood down the side of the coffee table.


Please. Help me,” he
gasped. He couldn’t feel his arms or legs.

She said nothing.


Call 911. Hurry,” he
begged, choking.

Sondra’s eyes were cold as
steel. “I’m not calling anybody. I’m not your
secretary
.”

She picked her purse up from the floor and
casually walked out. She knew he would be dead before anybody found
him. Oh, well, she thought. People get drunk and then they get
clumsy. And sometimes they fall down and kill themselves.

**********


Hello?”


Is this Greg
Tenorly?”


Yes.”


Greg, this is Norma. Sorry
for calling so late.”


Oh, that’s okay.” But it
really
wasn’t
okay. He was just being polite. The sexy redhead lying next to
him in bed was his new wife, Cynthia. And she looked more tempting
than a chocolate-dipped ice cream cone—his favorite dessert. And
who was this Norma anyway? Then he remembered. His parents’
long-time best friends were Vic and Norma Valleydale.


It’s about your
father.”

Greg felt pangs of guilt. He and his father
had been estranged for years. Now the old man must have died. Greg
should have tried harder to somehow make amends. “What about
him?”


I’m throwing him a big
birthday party. Your dad’s about to turn 75, you know. I already
sent you an invitation with the details, but I thought I’d better
give you a call too.”


Okay. Thanks.”


Greg, I know you don’t want
to come, but I wish you’d at least think about it.”


Uh, sure. I’ll think about
it. Well, thanks for letting me know, Norma.”


And one other
thing.”


Yes?”


Your dad and I got
married.”


What? To each
other?”


Yes. Last
month.”


But…what about
Vic?”


Greg…Vic died two years
ago.”


Oh. I didn’t know. I’m
sorry, Norma.”


So, now I’m your
stepmother.”


Well…congratulations.” Greg
wasn’t sure how he felt about it. But, what did it matter? He never
saw his father. He’d never see his new stepmother either. No big
deal.


Greg, you really need to
come home every once in a while.”

Great, he thought. Now that she’s my
stepmother she thinks she has the right to boss me around. “Yeah. I
haven’t been back in years.” But Orange was no longer home to
him.

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