Jillian Chantal

This week’s word for Tuesday Tales is holiday. Look at that 🙂 Christmas week! I’m still in my paranormal story.

Check out the other tales here.

Wednesday was a blur. A shocking number of customers came in for the day before a holiday. They sold a number of coloring books. People must have been looking for things for rowdy kids to do after Thanksgiving dinner. Sophronia only had a quick call with Craig before bed, she was so wiped out. She didn’t think she’d be so tired if she didn’t still have the sling on her arm.

Thursday morning, she decided to leave it off and drove herself to the cemetery to have a discussion with the people buried there. It was a silly idea, but Sophronia somehow felt it might help in her quest to learn more about the murdered girl’s family.

She loaded a blanket for Haydn for him to snuggle in while she was out at the gravesites. A thermos of hot coffee and a pecan sweet roll was all she needed to fill her belly. Eating as she drove, she found herself silently humming the piano solo she now associated with Sophie Richardson. She wondered if the girl had been a pianist and if the piano had been sold when she passed away.

The cemetery was deserted again. Haydn seemed content in the back seat, so Sophronia headed through the gates and down the side of the graves to the ones she sought at the back of the cemetery. This time, she wasn’t propelled against her will. She took that as a good sign. Being accepted by the spirit who wanted her help made her smile. The ghost certainly knew how to get attention when she wanted to.

Since Sophronia didn’t have the chance to see all the graves when she came with Alice, she took her time and read each of the ones in the area, doing math in her head to see how old the decedents were when they passed.

When she came to the murdered girl’s plot, she said a little prayer in her head and then spoke aloud, “I’m doing my best—well, my friends and I are—to solve your case so you can rest easier. I haven’t seen you, but I’ve seen your aunt—great aunt—Sophie. I think she’s also not able to rest because of what happened to you.”

The word grandmother wafted on the wind. A whisper that might have not been a real word, but it sure sounded like it.