Jillian Chantal

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt Run.  I am still sharing the paranormal story. I am working on first pass edits on it now.

Check out the other tales here

“I need to text Malcolm. I’ll be right back.” She walked a few steps away from the two spirits in order to think about how to compose the message. Not too friendly, not rude. Some middle ground, hopefully. She wished she had someone else to tell. But he was the only one who knew about her gift. Should never have gotten involved with him on a personal level. I wish I’d kept it strictly professional. Too late now. It is what it is.

After sending the message, she returned to the tombstone. “I’m going to go home. I told him where to find Mollie’s grave and the fidget spinner and told him the urine was on the back of Railroad Bill’s stone and also on the leaves on the ground. The crime scene people won’t need me to be here.”

“Lula Mae, you are not going to run away from this. You are always telling me women are as capable as men. If that is true, you stay and fight your battles. You were in the Army. An officer. So be one. Stay and face this new enemy and show him what you are made of.” Jackson saluted her. “An officer does not run.”

She sighed. He had a point. She couldn’t hide forever. Malcolm knew where she lived and had her phone number. It wasn’t like she could disappear. “All right. But be warned, I’m not taking any crap off him or Morgan if Morgan comes with him.”

“Do not forget, I saw you not take any bunkum off him earlier. You tossed them both out of your home. You were magnificent. Be that officer when they arrive.”

Lu straightened spine. I can do this.

Soon enough, the crime scene van arrived accompanied by a dark sedan that most likely held at least Malcolm, if not Morgan, too.

As it drove in, it came close to hitting Lu’s open car door. She looked at Jackson. “Be right back. I better shut that before more law enforcement cars arrive.”

She jogged over to shut her door just as Morgan got out of the driver’s side of the sedan.

He leered at her. “And here we find ourselves in yet another cemetery with Lula Mae Haverstock.” He glanced around, even turning in a circle. “No dog? Where’s the dog that needs to be walked in cemeteries? The weird dog that likes hanging out with dead folks.” He snickered. “Are you going to attend every cemetery in town and call us to come keep your company?”

“Can it, Chris,” Malcolm said as he came around from the passenger side.

Lu didn’t really want to talk to Malcolm but he came to where she stood. “Can we chat for a moment?” He looked at Morgan and added, “Privately.”