This week’s word is Pale. I’m still in the contemporary that takes place in Pensacola (Til Murder Do Us Part). This continues from last week when Richard left the library with Janette. Check out the other tales here.
“The fact that you said nothing for sure piques my interest, detective. I haven’t heard any rumors of any kind of serial killer on the loose. In fact, there hasn’t even been a homicide here in a couple of months. The last two were drug related in Brownsville and you caught both of those guys so I fail to see what this is about.” She slapped her forehead. “Is it one of the cold cases you’re looking into? What made you think it’s a serial killer?”
Exasperated, Richard stopped in the middle of the parking lot. “Can you let it go? For once?”
“You know I can’t do that. What kind of reporter would I be if I let go the fact that Pensacola’s leading homicide dick is reading up on serial killers? Ones that appear to be married? Isn’t that usually not the case? Aren’t they normally loners?”
“Good grief, you’re relentless, aren’t you?”
“You already knew that, Richard.”
“I did but I also know that eventually you give up. When the door is slammed in your face enough times, you’ll walk away.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “That’s not fair. You know I didn’t want to walk away. I only did so that everyone’s sanity could be saved. I’d be back in a second if I thought it would work out. You know that, too.”
With his free hand, Richard reached out to Janette. When he touched her, she recoiled as if he’d slapped her. “I’m sorry, J. That was a low blow. I shouldn’t have brought all that up.”
“It’s never far from the surface anyway. I wasn’t going to ask about it but now that you’ve broached the subject, I have to know. How is he?” Her face had gone so pale, Richard was afraid she would collapse on the tarmac.
“Come over here in the shade. I don’t want you to pass out and hit your head.” Richard led Janette under the closest tree. He set the books on the ground at his feet.
“Is he adjusting to being home?” Janette leaned against the tree with her hands behind her back
resting on the bark.
God, he didn’t want to talk about this.
So, the pressure was on for what to post for my 1,000th post here. Couldn’t think of anything awesome, so I thought of this. Each of these bills represents 100 posts. It would have had more impact if I used one dollar bills but all that wouldn’t fit in the camera frame.
This is post number 999 on this blog so I thought I’d share some 999 stuff with y’all.
In the USA, we call 911 for emergency services. In the UK, they call 999.
There is a punk rock band called 999 and they are one of the first of the punk era. They are from London and formed their band in 1976.
There’s a Nintendo DS game called 999- the main character has been kidnapped long with 8 others. There are 9 doors that have to be opened and the players have only 9 hours to rescue the victims.
0.9999 is a real number that can be shown to be the number 1. This is some crazy mathematical thing that I don’t even pretend to understand.
a Ducati 999- also known as the “triple nine” is high performance racing motorcycle.
I hope you enjoyed the 999th post here. I have no idea how to top it with #1000. Ha!
Rachel Newsome glanced around the bar. This place was not her style at all and the fact that Marcia and Annette wanted to hang around in a cop bar made her nervous. She was a defense lawyer first and foremost and cops were inherently the enemy. The place wasn’t impressive at all. It smelled of stale beer and sweat. She wondered how many diseases were floating around the premises and how many roaches might be in the area where the bar food was cooked.
“I’m not sure this was a good idea.” Rachel tried to keep the whine out of her voice.
“Come on. Loosen up. You’re always so tense. Have fun. Find a hot cop to ogle. I already see several,” Annette said.
“Let’s get a drink and sit at the bar.” Marcia led the way to some stools.
The female bartender came over. “What’ll you have?”
Rachel asked for a Tom Collins.
“Lady, you’re in a beer joint. We don’t do fancy drinks with little umbrellas. You must have missed your turn when you left the courthouse and got lost. We got beer and we got straight liquor over ice. Do you want something like that or not?” The bartender slapped her wet towel on the counter.
“Do you have white wine?” Rachel asked.
“I do. I have two kinds. Chardonnay and Chenin Blanc. Which will you have?”
All three said, “Chardonnay.”
The bartender muttered, “Figures,” as she reached above her head to grab three glasses. She poured the wine and held her hand out for payment.
Rachel pulled out her credit card and handed it over. She looked around the room. “Let’s get a table. I’m not sure I want to sit up here near that surly woman.”
The bartender came back with the charge slip. Rachel signed it and stood up with her glass of wine. She walked over to an empty table near the pool area.
When her friends joined her, Annette said, “Good choice, Rach. Lots of bending over the pool table to get good shots going on here. And those tight jeans. Wow. These men are in great shape. What a view.”
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This week’s tale is based on a picture prompt. I love this picture. I’m still working on the contemporary story set in my home town (Til Murder Do Us Part) and we recently had a renovation to our local library. I am pretending ours turned out like this one. LOL. Enjoy the other tales of the week by clicking here.
The more he read, the more intrigued Richard became. Maybe the lady wasn’t loony tunes after all. There was a lot to consider by reading between the lines on the news stories as reported. Richard had a lot of experience with newspapers and how the journalists who covered the crime beat tried to say as much as they could get away with but dancing around other things—things that maybe the investigator or the prosecutor alluded to but couldn’t actually have on the record. The articles he read were leading him to believe there was more here that wasn’t disclosed than was.
Richard printed a few of the most intriguing ones, packed them into a file folder and left the precinct. He headed down Gregory Street to the local library. He wanted to check out some books related on psychology. He’d been to a class at the FBI headquarters in Quantico on criminal profiling and he wanted to grab a few volumes to refresh his memory on the things he’d learned there.
Parking on the street, he entered the newly remodeled building. Glancing around, he was taken anew by the beauty of the sunlight shining through the large, rounded windows with the mullions. He appreciated the way the prisms of glass seemed to twinkle with the heat of the rays beating down through the glass. Since they’d redone the library with the mahogany shelves and the old railway clock, it seemed to Richard that they city was moving into a brand new architectural era. The downtown historical district had always had a strict policy on how the buildings could be renovated and presented and this seemed to be moving outward into other areas of town and that was more than okay with him.
He spent fifteen or twenty minutes perusing the stacks for the books he wanted. Once he had them amassed, Richard stood in line to check them out. Before he handed them to the librarian, someone called his name.
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be saving the world from crime?” The blonde woman grinned at Richard as she stepped up to stand beside him at the checkout desk.
“Even superheroes need a break, Janette.”
In 2012 for NaNoWriMo, I wrote a story that I had a title to for many years but hadn’t found the right story to use it with since it was such an awesome title (if I do say so myself). Anyway, after 2012 Nano, I let the story sit for a long time before I went back to clean it up. I got a request from an agent at RWA in Atlanta for it but it was ultimately turned down by her. I was kind of glad since she seemed to not “get” me even at the pitch session and I don’t think I’d want to work with her anyway.
Fast forward to Feb 3, 2014- I submitted it to my publisher, Sweet Cravings Publishing. On Feb 18, 2014, I got the acceptance stating that the e-book would be out in April (gasp) and print in October. I sent the contract back and rushed to do the cover questionnaire that night as it was already so close to April. I turned that in the evening of the 18th.
The next day, the 19th, at around 3:30, I got the edits! I love my editor there and she said there wasn’t much to fix. She also said, “OMG, best pet I’ve seen in a book yet.” LOL –
As I worked on the edits the evening of the 19th, here came an email with my draft cover! I was dizzy by then at the speed of the process. I mean, how crazy fast was this? The cover was perfect and pretty accurately reflected what I wanted on it as well as the story- down to the mockingbird on the title. AND it has the amazing Jimmy Thomas on it. So handsome. Check it out!
The only fact today is the fact that it’s Alan Rickman’s birthday! Happy day to one of the best actors of our age. He’s versatile in his work and is not only a superb actor, he’s also a fine writer and director. I hope he has a marvelous day. I’ll be watching one of his more obscure flicks to celebrate him. What will you do? Make a cake? Sing? Dance?
This week’s word for Tuesday Tales is meat. This one was interesting and easy to incorporate as I was writing a restaurant scene to set the local mood. I would have loved to use meathead in some way but it wasn’t in the cards even though I could have had her call the detective that name, right?
I’ve named this story Til Murder Do Us Part.
Don’t forget to check out the other stories here.
Margot stalked out of the police station without stopping to talk to the arrogant detective’s supervisor. She wanted to with all her soul but after the last moments of the meeting with Richard Higgins, she realized that she could very well be in legal trouble herself with the methods she’d used to track Paul Murdock to Pensacola. It was hard for her not to report the man’s insubordination and rudeness but she needed to protect herself.
At a loss what to do next, she got in her car and drove away from the police station on Hayne Street and made her way to Cervantes Street and to The Coffee Cup. She’d grab a lunch special at the counter there and see if she could reach the investigator she’d hired to get his thoughts on her next move. She’d only been in town a few days but when a local recommended the diner to her, she ate there and loved it. Today she knew she would find the comfort foods of meat and potatoes it offered to be the perfect thing to ease her wounded pride. Wheeling in to the parking lot behind the place, she was surprised to find several local police cars there.
She got out of the car thinking it was probably a favorite lunch place for the cops since it was so close to the station. Shrugging, she went in and found a place at the counter to sit. There was a table near the door with four police officers seated there. She nodded at them as she sat. Yep, had to be a cop hangout.
Pulling out her phone, Margot inhaled the smell of the delicious food cooking. It was fried chicken day for sure since that was the aroma permeating the air. She ordered the special and while she waited, she sent a text message to her investigator to meet her after lunch at Plaza Ferdinand.
When she arrived at the grassy park on Palafox Street, Margot immediately noticed the investigator, Mike “Mitch” Mitchell seated on one of the benches facing an obelisk in the middle of the park. He was hard to miss since he wore a fedora as if he were a PI from the 1930s or something. It was an odd affectation but he was so good at his job Margot didn’t let it bother her.
Walking toward him, she watched as he fed a few pigeons that gathered around his feet. Why would he be feeding those rodents with wings? They carried all kinds of disease and she planned to set him straight on why he needed to stop encouraging them to be around people.