Wild Rain Read online

  Wild Rain

  Tyson Wild Book Five

  Tripp Ellis

  Copyright © 2019 by Tripp Ellis

  All rights reserved. Worldwide.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents, except for incidental references to public figures, products, or services, are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental, and not intended to refer to any living person or to disparage any company’s products or services. All characters engaging in sexual activity are above the age of consent.

  No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, uploaded, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter devised, without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Welcome

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Author’s Note

  Buddy

  Max Mars

  Connect With Me

  Welcome

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  1

  Sheriff Daniels called at the worst possible time.

  I was enjoying a nice relaxing evening at Rum Runners bar on Oyster Avenue, having a few drinks, listening to good music. I had no desire to pull my cell phone out of my pocket. At that particular moment, I had everything I needed.

  I had a blonde on one arm and a brunette on the other.

  My phone kept buzzing, and it wasn’t going to stop.

  When I saw the sheriff’s name displayed on my phone’s screen I cringed. At this hour of the night, it couldn’t possibly be good news.

  The bar had a casual vibe. There were bikini tops and jean shorts. Flip-flops, T-shirts, and cargo pants. The air smelled like a mix of beer and strawberry daiquiris, and the band played everything from pop music to classic rock. The bar had a healthy mix of tourists and locals.

  It was a Saturday night, and I had no desire to volunteer my services for the good of the community. There were other, more important causes, that needed my time.

  Namely Ashley and Raelynn.

  They were both in Coconut Key on vacation looking for a story to go home with. Both were from Los Angeles and had been here all week. By the looks of these two, I’m sure they had racked up plenty of stories already.

  The blonde, Ashley, was a yoga instructor. She had a slim, toned, yoga body.

  Very flexible.

  She had tanned skin, sparkling eyes, and the definition in her arms that came along with her chosen profession. She kept telling me she was anxious to instruct me in the proper positioning of several yoga poses, including Downward Dog.

  I was more than intrigued.

  Her friend, the brunette, was a massage therapist, and well-versed in deep tissue. The two disciplines went well together. Yoga first, and a massage after.

  My mind swirled with possibilities.

  Everything was on the table.

  They were leaving for Los Angeles in the morning and wanted to go out with a bang.

  Ahem…

  I knew it was a mistake to answer the phone, but my sense of duty and obligation prevailed.

  “Excuse me for just a second,” I said to the beautiful ladies. “I need to take this. It will only take a moment.”

  I swiped the screen and answered the call. I regretted my decision the instant the sheriff’s gruff voice barked through the tiny speakers. “Meet me over at Forbidden Fruit ASAP.”

  “I’m kind of busy at the moment. What’s going on?”

  “I didn’t ask if you were busy. Just get over there.”

  He hung up the phone before I had a chance to inquire further.

  I flashed an apologetic glance to my companions. “Ladies, something’s come up. It’s only going to take a few minutes. But I need to do this. How about we reconvene in an hour?”

  The two of them slumped and pouted.

  “Aw, do you have to go?” Ashley said in a baby-doll voice.

  I winced. “Business.”

  “All work and no play makes Tyson a dull boy,” Ashley said.

  “I know,” I said with a frown.

  “And I was just thinking about all the fun we could have together.” Raelynn stroked my chest.

  “There’s plenty of fun to be had,” I assured. “This won’t take long.”

  We exchanged numbers.

  “Hurry back,” Ashley said.

  “I will,” I replied with a grin.

  Two beautiful girls unattended in a bar like Rum Runners wouldn’t be alone for long. I had the unsettling feeling that they would move on to other options by the time I got finished with my business.

  I stepped out of the bar onto the busy sidewalk. Pedestrians strolled back and forth down the avenue, taking in the nightlife. Oyster Avenue was filled with clubs, bars, and restaurants. It was THE place to be on the weekend, or any night, in Coconut Key.

  There was an eclectic mix of establishments. High-end restaurants, upscale piano bars, dance clubs, hole-in-the-wall blues bars—you name it. You could pick up a taco, or pizza by the slice, from vendors on the sidewalk. Music from live bands spilled onto the street. The air felt electric, and the neon glow from signage illuminated the avenue in a wash of colors.

  I called JD. If my evening was going to be compromised, so was his.

  He already knew why I was calling. “I’m on my way,” he said. “I just talked to Daniels.”

  “Do you know what’s going on?” I asked.

  “I know he’s fucking up my evening.”

  I agreed. “I’ll see you in a few.”

  Forbidden Fruit was a few blocks up the avenue. The red and blue lights from patrol cars flickered across the building, and a crowd had gathered around the mouth of an alley behind the club. A uniformed officer kept the horde at bay.

  I flashed my badge and pushed through the crowd, stepping into the crime scene.

  I saw Sheriff Daniels midway down the alley by a steel door that opened into the club.

  Scraps of newspaper scratched across the concrete in the breeze, and the smells wafting from the dumpster made my nose crinkle. A mercury vapor light overhead buzzed and cast an orange glow across the alley. It perfectly spotlit the body lying on the concrete amid a pool of crimson blood.

  The girl had short, platinum blonde hair. Her pink tank top was soaked red, and her sweatpants were speckled with blood.

  A moment later, JD joined me in the alley, and a frown twisted on his face. “Well, shit! Do you think it’s anybody we know?”

  It wasn’t like we were st
rangers to Forbidden Fruit—the premier strip club on the island.

  For a moment, I thought it might be Cherry Bomb.

  2

  Exotic dancers hovered in the doorway. Some sobbed. Some looked on in horror. Some were merely fascinated. They wore platform stilettos in red, black, and silver. Their skimpy lingerie didn’t even attempt to cover their naughty bits.

  The flicker of camera flash filled the alleyway as a forensics photographer took snaps of the crime scene.

  The body of the young girl lay splayed out on the concrete in an awkward position. As I drew closer, I realized it wasn’t Cherry.

  Daniels filled me in on the details with an unpleasant grimace on his face. This kind of thing wasn’t good for tourism. “The mayor is going to have my ass if we don’t get this recent crime spree under control.”

  “Who is she?” I asked.

  "Thunder Rain," Daniels said.

  “Stage name?"

  "Nope. That's her given name. 22. Dancer at the club. Took one to the chest. One to the head. Probably small caliber—9mm, I’m guessing. She had just gotten off her shift."

  He pointed to a brunette, standing by the doorway. She wore red lace lingerie and a garter belt. Thigh-high fishnet stockings and stiletto heels accented her toned legs.

  "She found the body when she stepped out for a smoke break,” Daniels said.

  "Anybody see anything?” JD asked. “Any surveillance cameras?"

  "Not a thing," Daniels said. "I've got officers canvassing the street, looking for witnesses."

  I looked over the body. "I would imagine she left the club with plenty of cash."

  "There's nothing on her. No jewelry. No purse. No money."

  "Robbery?" I postulated, knowing something didn’t feel right.

  "Gone wrong," Daniels added.

  "I would imagine these girls are prime targets," I said. "Time of death?"

  "According to the body temp, 10:00 PM, maybe 10:15 PM?” Daniels said.

  I looked at my watch. It was 11:15 PM now. "What time was the body found?"

  Sheriff Daniels motioned for the brunette in the lacy red lingerie to step over. "What time did you say you found her?"

  "I think it was around 10:30 PM. I'm not really sure."

  Music from the club filtered into the alleyway through the open door.

  “Did you know Thunder?" I asked.

  "Not really. I just started working here last week."

  Sheriff Daniels thanked her for her cooperation, took her name and information, and let her go back into the club.

  Daniels motioned for the manager to come talk to us. He wore a gray suit, black shirt, and gold chain. The man had slicked back hair and a strong jaw with a 5 o'clock shadow. He was the kind of guy who had a 5 o'clock shadow right after he shaved.

  His cologne announced his presence before he arrived.

  JD knew him, and we had met previously on a few occasions. We shook hands.

  "I see you two know Jaco," Daniels said.

  “You have any other incidents around the club recently?” I asked. “Cars getting broken into in the parking lot? Girls getting harassed?”

  “Nothing unusual,” Jaco said. “We always get a few creepers that stalk the girls. But they are mostly harmless.”

  "What can you tell me about Thunder?” I asked.

  "Sweet girl. Good earner. Always showed up on time. Clients loved her. If every girl in this club was like Thunder, I'd have no problems."

  "Did she have any enemies?" I asked.

  Jaco's face crinkled. "You think this was a murder?"

  "I don't think anything."

  "Looks like she got mugged to me. Sometimes these girls walk with $2000-$3000 in cash. I tell them not to go out alone. They can grab me, or a bouncer, to walk them out to the parking lot. Or they can have a boyfriend pick them up."

  “Do the girls always leave through the back exit?" I asked.

  "Yeah. Sometimes the creepers wait out front." He pointed down the alley to the parking lot. “It's a straight shot from here."

  "Say this wasn't a mugging… You know anybody who might want to hurt her?" I asked.

  “I’m no detective, but it looks like she got robbed.”

  “Maybe that’s what someone wanted it to look like?”

  “She’s a stripper in a bar,” Jaco said flatly. “Not an international spy.”

  “Indulge me. I get paid to be paranoid.”

  “Actually, we don’t get paid,” JD muttered in my ear.

  Jaco thought about it for a minute and shrugged. "She was a sweet girl. But you know how it is. You're always going to piss somebody off, no matter how nice you are."

  "Who might she have pissed off?"

  "I know she recently broke up with her boyfriend. That was a good move, if you ask me. He was kind of a jerk. I think he got a little handsy with her sometimes."

  "He beat her?" I asked.

  "She showed up with a black eye more than once. Said she fell and hit a doorknob. But who's that clumsy?"

  "What's the guy’s name?"

  “Smash… Trash… Thrash? I don't know." He thought about it for a moment. “Thrash, I think. You might want to ask Sapphire. Her real name is Emma. She and Thunder have a little thing going on. Had. I think that's why she left her boyfriend."

  "Anybody else she didn't get along with in the club?" I asked.

  Jaco looked around to see who was in the alley. He yelled at the girls hovering around. "Get back to work! Show’s over.”

  High heels clacked as the girls shuffled back into the club.

  Jaco felt more comfortable speaking now that he didn’t have an audience. He leaned in and whispered, ”Between you and me, there was no love lost between Thunder and Dita Von Bosch.”

  "Where do I find Dita and Sapphire?”

  "They're both working tonight. You can't miss Dita. She's the one who looks like Betty Page. Sapphire is a redhead with green eyes. Come in the club, and I’ll point them out to you.” Then he muttered aside, “Don't mention a word to Dita that I said anything. The last thing I need is that girl mad at me. Hell hath no fury like an angry stripper.”

  3

  Despite the chaos outside, it was business as usual inside the strip club. Exotic beauties slinked around chrome poles, displaying their wares. Testosterone-fueled patrons stuffed bills into tight G-strings. Music pumped, and spotlights slashed the hazy air. Fog machines billowed smoke onto the stage during sultry routines.

  Jaco pointed out Sapphire. She sat on a couch in a corner, sobbing while a few other girls attempted to console her.

  JD and I strolled to her, and I flashed my badge. "Do you mind if we have a few words?"

  The other strippers parted, and I took a seat next to Sapphire on the couch.

  "I can't believe she's dead," Sapphire said in between jerking sobs. She wiped her eyes and tried to pull herself together.

  "How long had you two been seeing each other?" I asked.

  "I don't know. A few weeks, maybe.”

  "Do you know if she had any enemies?"

  "You mean, besides Dita?"

  "You're not the first person to mention her,” I said. “What was going on between them?"

  "Thunder had a thing with her boyfriend. It was before we were together. Dita didn't take it too well."

  "Understandable."

  "Thunder was a free spirit. She did what she wanted.”

  "With whoever she wanted," JD muttered.

  "She felt like you shouldn’t put limits on love," Sapphire said.

  "So she wanted to love everybody?" JD asked.

  Sapphire sneered at JD. "She wasn't a slut!"

  "So, did you two have an open relationship?" I asked.

  "I loved Thunder. We had a good time together, and she made me feel good. There wasn't any drama between us. We didn't put limits on each other. We had just both come out of controlling, abusive relationships."

  “Tell me about her ex,” I asked.

  “Thra
sh? Complete and total dick. Narcissistic, manipulative sociopath.”

  “Sounds like a nice guy,” JD said.

  “What’s his real name?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Dick Head?”

  JD chuckled.

  “He plays in that shitty punk band, Rancid Desecration.”

  "I take it he wasn't too happy about you two getting together?" I asked.

  She shook her head. “Neither was my ex. Kind of a blow to the ego, I guess. They like watching two hotties get it on, but they don’t like the idea of you being able to live without them.“

  "What's your ex-boyfriend's name?" I asked.

  "Nick Rizzo."

  "Jealous type?"

  "Yeah, slightly,” she said, understating the obvious. "Are you kidding me? He hated me working here."

  "Do you think either of these guys would be angry enough to do something?"

  "You think Thunder was murdered?" Sapphire asked.

  "I'm just asking questions," I said.

  Sapphire shrugged. "I don't know. I think people are capable of all kinds of things, given the right circumstances."

  I had to agree with that.

  Sapphire thought for a moment. "Thunder had a regular customer. Carl. Real weirdo. He came in all the time. Spent a lot of money. Always gave her gifts. But then he started getting possessive and controlling. He didn't want her to dance for anybody else. He begged her to go on a date with him. When she refused, he got angry."

  "Violent?"