Jillian Chantal

Happy Tuesday. it’s time again for the snippets of Tuesday Tales where a group of writers write to the same word every week. I am still in my story about the buried treasure. We’re writing to the word touch this week.

Check out the other tales here and leave a comment if you like the story.

A booming knock on my door caused me to jump. “I gotta go, Grandma. I think that’s the cop.” At least I hoped it was.

“Don’t open the door until you’re sure. It could be that Annette. Call me back. I’ll be right by the phone waiting.”

The booming knock came again. “Coming,” I called out.

Disengaging the call as I stood, I walked over to the door and peered out the small pane of glass inset there. Yep. Cop.

I opened the door. “What’s going on? My grandmother called me about something to do with my friend Annette.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His hands on his utility belt, he nodded at the interior of my apartment. “May I come in?”

He looked about my age so the ma’am stung a bit, but maybe he was required to address people as ma’am and sir. I let it go without comment. “Come on in and please explain what is happening.”

“A woman named Annette Bowling made a threat on your life at Mike’s gun shop—”

“Gun shop?” Stunned, I staggered backward and almost fell. “She was going to shoot me?” All the blood drained from my head.

The cop grabbed my arm to steady me. “Hang on. She wasn’t buying a gun. She was buying a hunting knife.”

“Oh and that makes it better?” I reeled, snatching hold of the back of the closest chair.

He had the grace to look abashed. “Not a whole lot but if someone pulls a knife on you, you have a better chance of putting a safe distance between you and them than if they have a gun.”

“Point taken, but a hunting knife is still terrifying.”

“Yes ma’am, it is.”

“How did you figure out she was planning to come after me and not someone else?” My legs were rubber and I was on the verge of collapsing. “I’m going to have to sit down. Would you like to take a seat?” Something dripped in my left eye. I touched my forehead. It was clammy with sweat.