Solomon Power Mysteries: Death in the Drizzle (Book 1)
It’s not that he wanted to contact her, he simply wanted to know she was still alive. The last time Solomon laid eyes on Kendra, she had pleaded with him not to tell his father, but stupidly, he had not listened. Even after all these years, she probably still hated him for that one life-altering decision. He would never be able to muster the courage to look her in the eyes, he knew that, but at least he could find out if she was happy.
As it was with each day after that fateful night, Solomon’s thoughts of Kendra consumed him as his dank and musty motorhome swayed violently in a brutal gust of wind. The mid-80s model Lindy, with its Chevy van front and full-sized overhead sleeping compartment had seen better days, but it was his home. Several years back now, he built a state-of-the art computer system in the rear. His heavy frame hovered closer to the white pulsing screen of his computer while his dull hazel eyes scanned the online news for any hint of his past... any hint of her. Absentmindedly, reaching for another handful of Cheetos, Solomon scanned the text as his dog, Bond, lie snoring on the couch behind him. Nothing in the real world could distract him when he was inside the mind of his computer, except a loud knock on the driver’s side door and the authoritative voice of a police officer. Solomon hated, above all else, to be disturbed when he was busy with his thoughts of her. But what he hated, even worse, were police officers. At first he was going to ignore the knock, but Bond’s head shot up and he let out a loud bellow toward the jolted interference. Sometimes official intrusions would not persist long, but as the rain began tapping violently on his rear window, so did the forceful pounding behind him.