Jillian Chantal

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt common. I have picked up right where I left off last week so if you need to scroll back to see last week, it’s there.

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“Of course I do. That’s pretty much common knowledge around where we grew up. Always in the pew on Sunday mornings whether we wanted to be or not.”

“And now look at us, Sunday morning digging for treasure.” I brushed my hair off my forehead, surprised at how damp it was from my exertions with the metal detector. That was supposed to be the easy part of the deal.

“I also know there’s a Bible verse about not laying up treasure here on earth.”

“Very funny. I want to solve the mystery and return the jewelry to the person’s family. It seems to me that some of these items will have great sentimental value to someone.”

“But why bury it and then abandon it if it means something special?” Levi plunged the trowel into the ground again. “We may have found everything now. Seems so anyway. I’m not finding anything else.”

“I’d still like to locate that other ruby earring. I wonder why only one turned up.”

Levi grinned. “I know. The woman who buried it gave it to the man she planned to elope with. He absconded with the valuable ruby and left her in the lurch.” He held up his right index finger. “No. Wait. The poor devil was rushing back to her from getting money from the bank to finance their run and he was tragically hit by a train. In her grief, she buried all the gifts he’d ever given her and checked into a nunnery.”

“Until last night, I had no idea who you were. No idea at all.” I shook my head. “I must say, I’m not surprised you wrote a book. This sounds like some kind of angst-ridden women’s fiction.  I sincerely hope your novel isn’t that melodramatic.”

“Ha ha. I think I just came up with the plot for my next book.” He pretended to write by moving his hand in the air. “Memo to my editor. New novel. Must be set in early 1920s when rail travel was popular. Cue tears and melodrama. My friend is against it, but I know we can make it work.”

“You’re impossible.” I ran the metal detector across the area by the hole again, hoping for that ruby earring.

“No. Listen. Hear me out. There really has to be some explanation for why this stuff was buried and abandoned? Why could it not be something like that?”

“You’re right that it was probably something tragic, but your scenario doesn’t explain the baby bracelet.”

“Maybe she and her child were planning to flee an abusive husband. She buried it as her escape plan and never got the chance to get the jewelry dug up as he killed her.”

“Well that’s certainly morbid, but I searched the newspaper for articles for this house and surely if there was a murder here, there would have been some article mentioning it.”

He pointed the trowel at me. “Good point, Sherlock.”