The Other Side of the Rainbow

September 24, 1987

The Detective

The road directed Detective Carol Ann McCloskey west, and the Colorado sunset offered up streaks of pink, orange, and purple that reminded her of Cyndi Lauper’s hair. Carol ignored the man spewing threats from the back seat as she drove. She would rather be on a run in the fresh air with the soles of her Adidas hitting the pavement and music playing through her Walkman’s headset. She wanted to enjoy the twists and turns along Highway 114 so she pressed on the gas pedal lightly and turned up Suzanne Vega’s hit song, “Luka.” Carol had purchased the cassette tape along with a fanny pack large enough to hold her Walkman when she was buying a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles coloring book for Harrison from the hospital gift shop.

Hayden Preston, her suspect and Harrison’s father, leaned toward her. He stank of stale cigarettes and fast food, and his greasy hair covered much of his pale face, “Can you turn that crap off?” 

Amy Bronne, Carol’s partner, turned up the volume. She hit her chest with a fist and belted out the chorus. 

Carol laughed and then met Hayden’s scowl with a grim expression. He had beaten his wife to death. For that, he deserved to be tortured with Amy’s off-key crooning. Through the rearview mirror, she saw a dark sedan trailing far behind her; a red Jeep behind it.

“Stupid dykes.”

Carol laughed again. Amy was a tough cop who lived with her socialite parents and dated mostly white-collar men. Last night, Ray, Carol’s boyfriend asked her how many times someone had called her a dyke that day. She’d given him an exaggerated number, and then he’d seduced her. 

Amy lowered the music. “Carol, do you think breaking a child’s bones makes some men feel like tough guys?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hayden answered.

“Maybe just killing their wives does that,” Amy said.

Hayden growled. “I didn’t kill nobody. I did everything I could to keep Sophie from hurting herself and Harrison. She…” He stopped talking and turned away. 

Amy continued. “I get it. You were the ideal husband and father before you accidently beat Sophie with a bat.” 

He spat at her. Flecks of putrid spittle landed on Amy’s face and jacket. She turned her face away. Her chin jutted forward in the familiar tactic she used to control her anger.

“You two don’t know anything,” Hayden said.

“Enlighten us with your tale of fiction,” Carol responded. 

The highway opened up to a huge pasture for miles. The red Jeep passed a little too close on the left, and Carol tightened her grip on the steering wheel. The dark sedan closed the large gap between them. Carol encouraged the driver to go around her department-issued Taurus with a tap on her brakes. She was in no hurry to get to her precinct in Corona.

“You want a story. I’ll tell you a story.” Hayden laughed. “It won’t even matter if you don’t believe me. You lesbos, with your big shoulder pads and helmet hair messed up big time letting Sophie’s parents near Harrison. Whatever happens to him is on you.”

A mental image of the four-year-old next to Ester Gimble, his maternal grandmother, made her heart sink. The boy—silent, thumb in his mouth, eyes distant—stared up from that hospital bed. The woman, frail but strong minded, held his hand and tried her best to assure him that he would be okay. Carol lifted her foot off the gas pedal. “What do you mean?” 

Amy closed her visor. “Carol?” She turned to look behind them.

Hayden yelled, “Who do you think jacked up Sophie? She’s the one who sold our—”

The back window shattered. 

Blood sprayed the interior windshield. The radio exploded. 

Amy pulled out her gun and shouted, “Five o’clock.” 

A man leaned out of the rear driver’s side window holding a rifle and fired again. A bullet hit the quarter panel with a penetrating thud. 

Carol cranked the steering wheel away from the gunfire, straightened the swerving car and gunned it.

The other car sped up too. 

Carol swerved to the left.

Another bullet hit the trunk. Amy fired her weapon.

Carol shouted into the two-way radio, “Officer needs assistance. Shots fired! Shots fired. We are heading south on US-114, passing mile marker…” She checked for the green sign. No traffic was headed north. “I’m turning back toward Gunnison! Do you copy?”

“10-4,” a voice responded over the airway.

Carol drove across the yellow line, into the open field and steered back north. The tires screeched behind her, and the smell of burning rubber filled the air. 

Amy kept her gun pointed at the assailants.

The other vehicle, a black Cadillac de Ville, followed.

Carol braced for the possibility of oncoming traffic, but the road was clear. Back on the pavement, she slowed and swerved, hoping to get the other car to swerve as well.

It did.

Amy fired. “I’m out.”

Carol pulled her gun from her shoulder holster, offering it to Amy. 

Amy grabbed it and fired hitting the Cadillac’s windshield near the driver. The de Ville flipped and then rolled. Metal gave way to the impact. Breaking glass followed. The Caddy stopped upright, its top caved in.

Carol slammed on the brakes, and the Taurus skidded to a stop. She flipped a U-turn to face the Cadillac and drove toward it slowly. It was a newer model. Possibly a rental. Carol stopped at a safe distance. “What about—”

“Oh, crap,” Amy gasped, handing Carol her gun back. Hayden lay crumpled on the floor, and blood smeared the upholstery. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”

Carol reloaded. Using her door as a shield, she pointed her gun at the sedan while Amy reloaded. 

She saw no movement in the other car.

Carol kept her gun at the ready until Amy was in position. 

Using the passenger door Carol snuck around to the backseat and checked for a pulse. “No. I’ve got nothing.” She stood.

Another sedan zoomed toward them, a gun pointed out of its window. Carol dove to the ground. Bullets peppered the asphalt around her and the Taurus. She held her breath, expecting searing pain any moment.

How would her parents react when they were told of her death? Would they even bother to drive the four and a half hours to Corona from Denver? No. But Michael and Kit would race out to collect her remains. Their twins would never know her. Her times with them flashed through her mind. Hand holds. Book reads. Goodnight kisses.

I originally wrote Carol into a novel titled “Brotherly Love.” While editing the book I struggled to work in her complex history with solving her brother’s murder. I also labored to mix in a complex case she solved a few months prior to the Brotherly Love events that take place in 1989. I decided I would write a book about that case – but even as I worked on it, I still wrestled with her brother’s death. 

There were two reasons I struggled. One, my skills just weren’t up to par yet, and two – the story intrigued me. I met with a book coach, and he suggested I try writing about her brother’s murder first. If it worked out well, I would have the beginnings of a good series character.  I began writing the story as “Auntie M” hoping it would be a novella. But it turned into a full-length novel.

Somewhere in one of its early drafts, I changed the title to The Other Side of the Rainbow. It is a better fit for many reasons. I thought there was a chance a publisher would suggest a different title, but New Degree Press agreed it sums up the themes in the book well. 

The working title for Book Two, The Lollipop Guild, seems to be a good fit too. It is currently being redeveloped with the necessary edits it requires with all the storyline improvements that occurred while getting The Other Side of the Rainbow ready for publication. 

The original Carol McCloskey Book (Formerly Brotherly Love) hasn’t been retitled yet. There have been so many improvements to Carol’s storyline that it will need some heavy rewrites to fit into the series now, I think. I guess I will just have to wait to see. 

I am including a sneak peek at The Lollipop Guild when you purchase a signed copy of The Other Side of the Rainbow along with a couple of deleted scenes.