Red Rain

woman running awkwardly toward them on high, spiked heels. She was tall and lean and had a white jacket tied around her shoulders, which flared behind her like a cape as she ran. Gold bracelets jangled up and down one arm.

“Derek?” she called breathlessly. “What’s going on?”

She stopped a few feet from Andy and Cora and eyed him suspiciously. “Who are you? Is there a problem?”

“I’m a police officer,” Andy started. “I-”

“Police? What did he do? Who are these kids?” Her voice was throaty, hoarse, a smoker’s voice. It rose with each question. Her chest heaved up and down beneath her violet sweater. The bracelets matched a gold chain with a jeweled heart that hung from her neck.

“I didn’t do anything,” Derek said, jutting his fleshy jaw out defiantly.

“Is he your son?” Andy asked.

She nodded. Then she brushed a strand of coppery hair off her forehead. “Yes. Derek Saltzman. He’s my son. I’m Elaine Saltzman. I left him for ten minutes by the ice cream store.” She pointed toward the end of the pier.

“These kids say your son tried to take away their ice cream. I think there was some kind of scuffle.”

“Liars!” Derek shouted.

“We’re not lying!”

Mrs. Saltzman squinted at Ethan, seeing him for the first time. “I know you. You’re Ethan, right?” She turned back to Andy. “He’s in my son’s class. What happened, Ethan?”

Derek lurched forward. He raised both hands as if to give his mother a shove. “Why do you ask him? Why don’t you ask me?” In a whining voice that made Andy want to cover his ears.

He glanced at Cora. Her eyes were on one of the tall, white yachts at pierside. Three people had come onto the deck to watch the confrontation.

Bet Cora is impressed seeing a cop in action, Andy thought wryly. Spilled ice cream is a felony in this town. Ha. Wait till I slip the cuffs on the kid. She’ll be all over me.

“Derek tried to take our cones,” Ethan reported. “When we said no, he knocked them to the ground.”

“Stupid liar! They knocked my ice cream to the ground!”

Mrs. Saltzman stared down at her red-faced son. “Are you telling the truth?”

She didn’t wait for him to answer. She wrapped her hand around Andy’s arm and led him across the pier. She waited for an SUV to pass, then pulled him to the side of a parked car, out of her son’s hearing.

“Derek has problems,” she murmured, fingers still tight around Andy’s sleeve. She leaned against him and brought her face close to his. He could smell her flowery perfume and a whiff of alcohol on her breath. “Ever since his father left, he’s been angry, very troubled.”

This was definitely more than Andy wanted to hear.

“Mrs. Saltzman, I really have to be going. Why don’t you just solve this thing by buying cones for all three kids?”

She blinked. Did she expect him to get tough or something? She was still holding onto him. A strong breeze off the bay fluttered her hair.

“Good. Okay,” she said. “I just wanted to explain. I mean, these days sometimes Derek acts out. But he’s basically a good boy. He has a good head on his shoulders. A good head. Really.”

Of course, neither Andy nor Elaine Saltzman, nor anyone on the pier that night, had any idea of what would happen to Derek’s head a few weeks later.

20

“My parents say we’ll have a house in Malibu. That’s where they are right now. In L.A., buying it. It’s right on the ocean. See, you go out the back door and you’re on the beach.”

“That’s awesome, Ruth-Ann. Can I come live with you? I mean really.”

“It’s like being on vacation all the time. Only you live there. And there are celebrities all over the beach. You know. Movie stars. And TV. And you just hang out with them.”

“You think Johnny Depp could be your neighbor?”

“No way. He’s too old. They don’t let old people in Malibu.”

The girls both laughed. They sat almost side by side on Ruth-Ann’s bed, talking and texting each other at the same time.

“Dylan Sprouse?”

“You like him? I like the other one.”

“They could be your neighbors. You could hang with them and they’d ask you to be on TV. And you’d be a star.”

“No way, Elena. I’m only fourteen. I don’t want to be a star till I’m sixteen.”

That made them both laugh again.

Elena Sutter and Ruth-Ann Glazer had been friends since third grade, and best-best friends for two years since sixth grade, mainly since they shared the same sense of humor, although Ruth-Ann was the real wit, sharp and sarcastic. And because they lived two houses down from each other and were in the same eighth-grade class at Sag Harbor Middle School, and because they looked so much alike, they could be sisters.

They agreed that Ruth-Ann looked like the older sister, because she was at least four inches taller than Elena, and already had the beginnings of a woman’s body, meaning she had breasts, and wore her hair in a more sophisticated, layered look, which she acquired during one of her many trips with her parents to L.A.

They were both pretty and smart and popular. They both had an easy way of getting along with other kids, and of not getting in their own way when it came to success at school. They were both spoiled but not in an obnoxious way. They knew how to get whatever they wanted from their parents and still allow their parents to think they were the ones in charge.

Elena was a miniature fourteen-year-old version of Lea, her mother. Creamy-white skin framed by straight, black hair, serious dark eyes, a delicate face and a wiry body, perfect for the gymnastics classes that she was becoming more serious about.

They tapped on their phones for a few minutes without speaking. Elena’s phone bleeped. She squinted at the screen. “Ethan.”

Ruth-Ann lowered her phone. “Ira’s friend Ethan? What’s he want?”

Elena shrugged. “Nothing. Just said ’sup.” She thumbed the keys rapidly.

Another bleep. “He wants to come over. His PlayStation broke.”

“Tell him no way. Tell him your brother Ira isn’t here. He’s at your house. Ethan pretends he wants to hang with Ira. Then he just stares at you. Like a sad puppy dog.”

Elena laughed. “He does look like a puppy dog.” The light from her phone gave her face a pale tint. “Hey, I’m not kidding about Malibu. Your parents would let me come with you, right? Just for the summer, I mean.”

Ruth-Ann studied her friend. “You’re joking. You’re getting two new brothers, and you want to come live with me?”

Elena scrunched up her face. “Why do I want two new brothers?”

“Because they’re hot? Show me that photo again.” She grabbed Elena’s phone and began shuffling through photo screens. She stopped at the twins’ photo and brought it close to her face.

Elena grabbed it away from her. “You think they’re cute? I think they’re blond freaks.”

“You’re messed up, Elena. They are totally hot. I mean, for twelve-year-olds. Check out those smiles. Those dimples on this one’s cheeks. What’s his name? Danny? Adorable. They could be on TV. Really.”

Elena stuck her finger down her throat and made a gagging sound.

She squinted at the photo. Daniel and Samuel. Wavy blond hair, almost white. And those big blue eyes. Wearing red T-shirts way too big for them. And those sick, sweet smiles.