CSI Los Angeles? (Suzanne Forster)

As far as I know, there is no such television show, but I sure wish there was. I would have taped a bunch of episodes, stayed home this weekend where it was safe and dry and watched them, as opposed to taking a quickie research trip up to the City of the Angels—and encountering the first torrential rain of the year.

I went up there to research The Private Concierge, a book that’s due to my publisher in a matter of weeks. It was supposed to be an overnight trip, and I’d heard the predictions of rain, but didn’t pay much attention. It hadn’t rained in southern California in so long I’d forgotten what the wet stuff looks like.

Apparently Mother Nature decided to remind me. It didn’t rain, it flooded. Forty nights and days worth, all in forty-eight hours. The sky opened up and cried me a river. It was supposed to have been a one-day trip, but because of all the precip, I decided to spend an extra night in Los Angeles—and I was quite proud of myself, thinking I’d avoided the worst of the downpour. But when I hit the road to drive home the next morning, it started pouring again. Buckets. BIG buckets. And then there was a major pileup on the 405 freeway, and I got stuck in that awful mess. No one was hurt, thank goodness. There was some minor damage to a few cars, but I escaped that too, luckily.

Plus, southern California desperately needed the rain. But did it have to rain on the very weekend that I was driving up there to do research? I thought about kissing the ground when I got back to Newport Beach, but I would have drowned. I couldn't see out the window with the wipers on high. This was no typical rainstorm. I hear they’re now calling them microbursts, and they’re more like tropical storms. The rain sounds like machine gun fire. It's hard to imagine that it doesn't damage the car.

Despite the weather, I got lots of good work done and was greatly relieved to find that most of the research I’d done on the net or through contacts was fine. Unfortunately, though, I got zero from the West L.A. Community Police Station, which is where one of my secondary characters works. The curmudgeonly officer at the desk told me if it was crime-related, he could talk to me. Otherwise, SOL. Their community relations person wasn't there, either, but I got his number, and I got to see the station.

I found it ironic that one of the people there, who I think may have been waiting to be booked told me what the second floor of the station looked like, which was one of things I needed to know. That's where the detectives’ offices are, if they have offices. I'm hoping it's a bullpen situation. This guy knew all about the holding cells.

My camera presented another glitch. It didn’t work, even with new batteries. That’s why there aren’t any candid pics with this blog. The stock shot of L.A. at night, glowing and golden in the rain, is courtesy of Google, but for some reason, the city didn’t look quite that beautiful when I was getting drenched.

If you’ve ever entertained the fantasy of a leisurely walk in Century City, which is one of the west L.A. locations in my story, prepare yourself for some long blocks. I made the mistake of thinking I could stroll from a restaurant where we had lunch one day to a mall where I needed to do some quick shopping. The maitre d’ said it was only a short walk, a couple of blocks at most, which grievously underestimated the number of blocks—and their length. Century City’s blocks go on forever, like the yellow brick road in The Wizard of Oz. Man, did I need Dorothy’s red shoes.

Possibly I should have gotten a clue from the fact that this was Thursday, a regular work day, yet no one was walking. Really, no one. Century City is not like New York or Chicago or even L.A., where the sidewalks are crowded with people shopping and commuting from one point to another on foot. Of course, it’s much smaller than any of those cities, but still I expected a mini-skyscraper skyline. Nope, not really. Everything’s too expansive and spread out.

The scene I wrote in which my heroine, Lane, is out walking on the Avenue of the Stars will have to be revised. It describes a bustling avenue where the other walkers look curiously at Lane, who’s wearing sneakers and a long black pencil skirt. People would be looking curiously, I’m sure, but it would be from their cars. I returned to Century City on Friday and did see a grand total of two walkers that day, but they looked pretty lonely.

So, yes, my quickie research trip had some bad and even scary moments. But still, the good experiences far outweighed the bad. Dodger Stadium at historic Chavez Ravine was enough to make me want to be a baseball fan. If the game slowed down, I could sneak off to the parking lot and gaze at the incredible views of downtown L.A., which really is a spectacular city, and the San Gabriel mountains. The air was crystal clear the morning I was there, and it was a truly amazing panoramic sight.

Also, almost everything in the scene I’d already written about the stadium, garnered from internet research, was correct. Now I can add the breathtaking view of the city and give my setting even more local color and authenticity.

I can strongly recommend a quaint mom and pop Mexican restaurant called La Serenata on Pico in West L.A. I was a little nervous about the chile relleno when the plate arrived. It looked oddly flattened, as if something large and heavy had rolled over it, and the sauce was the bright orange of the highway construction cones. But it ranked up there with best Mexican food I’ve ever had. And the margaritas? Amazing.

Century City is open, spacious and beautiful, but I’m glad to be setting my story in other parts of Los Angeles as well. I really do love cities where you can leave your hotel or restaurant and walk to wonderful places, discovering unexpected treasures as you go. Cities big enough to inspire awe, but dense enough to make you feel surrounded and secure. My friend described the canyons a big city creates with its tall buildings and relatively narrow streets, and that’s exactly the feeling I had as we were driving though the heart of downtown L.A. on well-known boulevards like Olympic and Wilshire.

We saw sun and shadows, blue storefront awnings and lush hanging plants. People ate al fresco in restaurants that fanned out onto the sidewalk. And they walked everywhere. I only wish we’d parked the car and walked a bit too, rain or no rain. I love cities, big and small. And I love short blocks!

Suz