Jillian Chantal

This week the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt child. I am still in the same story I’ve been working on.

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Back at Lu’s house, after letting Aneto out, she sat in her favorite chair with a cup of cocoa to try to warm up. Malcolm had been right. She was frozen through after standing outside with Brandon’s spirit.

Jackson hovered nearby. “I visited with a few of my friends in St. John’s cemetery and in the city. The last one I met with was a free woman of color who used to live close to “C” Street and near the place where the latest young man was found. Her house is gone now and she is not remembered much in this city, but she was the mother of a young girl who had an English father who took the child to England when she was small to live with his family. The child and mother were both from an island in the Caribbean Sea and the father met the mother when he was in port there.

The grandfather of the child was an important Member of Parliament and was instrumental in ending the slave trade in their country. The girl grew up as a ward of her grandfather.

“I might know about this girl. It seems like there was a movie a few years ago about her and that there is a portrait of her in the National Gallery in England. Was her name Belle?”

Jackson waved his hand in the air. “That I do not recall. I shall ask her mother when I see her again, but the important thing is, the mother saw something that might assist your detective.”

Lu leaned forward, eager and excited. “Did she see who did it?”

“Not quite, but she did see that the person was not very tall and was thin, but strong. She also said when the young man was being garroted, he put up a fight and kicked back several times, making contact with the person’s shin bones. She believes there may be bruising there as once the man was on the ground and the murderer placed the necklaces and cakes around the body, the person limped away as if their legs were sore.” Jackson shrugged. “Perhaps that will help aid the detective’s search or if he locates the person soon, he or she will still be limping.”

“I hate that she witnessed the young man’s death and couldn’t come to his aid, but I’m glad she saw what she did as far as giving us something to go on. It sounds like it could even be a woman who did this. Thin and not too tall.”

“Or it could be a slight man who has worked on a ship or some type of occupation that requires strong arms.”

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt Silly. I am still in the same story even though I missed the last two weeks updating.

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Malcolm came with Magdalena and Violet to pick up Lu and Aneto. They drove to Gregory Street to park near the library so they could walk to where the first turn of the parade was. That way they could leave when all the floats and walkers passed that corner without much trouble since the parade would continue for about two miles after that turn. They could be off and away before traffic got crazy.

When they pulled into a spot on the street near the library, Violet bounced in her car seat and said, “We going to get books, Daddy? I love books.”

“No, silly. It’s night-time and they close in the night. Daddy said we’re going to see some pirates. They’ll throw us some candy and toys.” Magdalena tossed her hands in the air. “We have to catch them like this. Some will throw pretty necklaces we can use to play dress up.”

Violet tapped her chin. “Daddy?”

Malcolm turned to face her. “Yes?”

“I thought you always said not to take candy from strangers. I’m sure these pirate people will be strangers.” She darted a glance at her sister. “Or is this like Halloween where we don’t listen to what Daddy says?”

“It was all Lu could do not to laugh. Violet was so intent and serious about the conversation she knew the child might get upset if she was laughed at.

“We always should listen to Daddy, but when he takes us places like this, he must think it’s safe.” Magdalena looked over at her father. “Isn’t that right?”

“Right.” He nodded once. “Let’s get out and find a good spot to stand.”

As they passed the Victorian Bed and Breakfast on the corner, Lu waved at the spirit of the dead sea captain who built the house in the 1800s and never left. He still enjoyed a cigar in the parlor or on the front veranda. He was out there now and waved back.

Magdalena gave Lu an odd look. “Who did you wave to?”

“Someone who was on the porch. I thought I knew him.”

“There’s no one there.” Magdalena frowned. “I didn’t see anyone.”

“He must’ve been going back inside.” Lu hated to lie to the girl, but she couldn’t very well tell her that the person she waved to was long dead.

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt Sunny. I’m still working on my Mardi Gras season murders.

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The sunny day shining through her blinds woke Lu too early. “Ugh. I could sleep for two days.”

Aneto’s face propped on her mattress told her she better get up and let him out.

“I’m tired, dog. And there’s today and two more days to get through before Mardi Gras is over. I’m praying no one else gets killed. Three in two days is more than enough. Those poor souls.”

She flung the blankets off and sat up. Rubbing her face, she groaned. “Lord, I feel like I’ve aged twenty years in two days.”

“Come on, Aneto. If I don’t get up now, I never will and then I’ll have to clean up after you if you not get let outside.”

After leaving him in the backyard, Lu showered and dressed.

A knock at the door while she was putting on a red Henley shirt caused her to rush to finish getting dressed.

Malcolm stood on her porch. “I know it’s Sunday morning, but with three murders on my hands, I have to work the case. Want to try again to have that conversation with Brandon?”

“Yeah. Give me a minute to dry my hair and we’ll go.” She pointed to the kitchen. “Coffee is made. Aneto is outside and I’m quite sure he’s going to want the treats I know you have in your pocket.”

“It’s kind of expected of me to be sociable in that way when I come to call.” Malcolm winked. “After all, I have to stay on the good side of the man of the house.”

“I know that’s right.” She left him to tend to the dog and get himself some coffee.

When she was ready, she met him in the living room. “Any preliminary info from Broussard on the autopsy?”

“Not yet, but we did get lucky and get an ID on the guy found at the ball field.”

“Really? That’s good news, isn’t it?”

“For us, yes. Not so good for the family and friends who will soon learn the news that will change their lives. The murder of a close friend or a loved one will change your life.”

Lu knew he was well familiar with that since his own brother was murdered. She rubbed his arm. “I know. I didn’t mean it was good he was killed. I meant it would help with the investigation to know who the deceased was.”

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt year. I am still in the same story with the heroine who can speak to spirits. This week, she is only talking to the living. 🙂

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A woman with shoulder length curly hair stalked across the yard toward them with her hand up like she was a school crossing guard. “If your here to prey on my mother for news, you can get out of here right now. No reporters. We’re not making any statements. Go.”

Lu rolled her window down. “Are you Teresa, Brandon’s sister?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything. Get out of my mom’s driveway.”

Malcolm held up his badge and muttered, “So much for being subtle.”

The woman stalked up to the window. “What did you just say?”

Lu held her hand out of the window. “Hang on a second. We aren’t reporters. He’s the lead detective on the case. He has some questions and didn’t want to bother your mom. We were out here trying to decide how to proceed to cause the least additional angst to your family. We decided to try to seek out Teresa and talk to her.”

“You should’ve come to the door. We’ve had a ton of calls and some reporters come by. Mom is sedated but she keeps waking up crying. It’s hard for us all.”

“Can we take up less than fifteen minutes of your time or Teresa’s? I promise we’ll be quick,” Malcolm said.

“I’m Teresa. If we can do it out here, I’d be okay with it. I don’t want to invite you in. Mom will be okay in a day or so—at least okay enough to have a conversation—but I don’t want her bothered today.”

“We respect that. I just have a couple of questions that may help us get a lead on who did this.” Malcolm tilted his head toward the back seat. “Want to get in and talk?”

Lu smiled gently. “Let me get out. The detective seems to have forgotten he’s in his personal vehicle and he has two car seats back there for his children.”

Teresa gave a smile back. “We can go over to the lawn chairs Mom has under the tree. She likes to sit out here and watch the kids play. They stay out all year.”

Lu hadn’t noticed a group of four plastic Adirondack chairs under a big oak. “That sounds perfect.”

As soon as they were settled in, Teresa said, “Now, what do you think I can help you with?”

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt holiday. Mine is not the holiday that is this week. LOL! Hope you all have a happy season, no matter which holiday you celebrate. I am still in my fantasy story/murder mystery.

Check out the other tales here.

Lu’s shift seemed to pass slower than normal. She was anxious to hear from Malcolm about the progress of the investigation and if they’d located Marcus’s wallet or any tire tracks that might be helpful. She also wondered if Jackson would bring her any news from the spirit world. Back in December, they’d had a terrible case of copy-cat murders that tied into the spirit world and Malcolm would never have solved it—and gotten his medal—without the help of a lot of the local spirits. To be deceased, they sure kept their nose to the ground on things happening in their city.

She was sure Jackson would find someone who saw something. He was relentless when he was on a quest. She imagined he’d been the same in life when he was tasked with making a success of the various roles he filled back then.

There were only few patients in the population at the time of her shift, but she knew the craziness would start soon. It was almost the weekend before Mardi Gras and the parades and drinking along with reckless behavior would kick in soon.

Glad to be off the next three days, Lu sent up a prayer for an easy season for the revelers and her co-workers who would have to tend to them. She herself would be back for the actual day of the holiday, so she tossed up one for herself as well.

Just when she thought the shift would drag on forever with no word from anyone, when she looked up, sensing someone looking at her, General Jackson stood next to her door.

She jumped in her seat and her hand went to her heart. “Must you do that thing where you walk through my closed door and silently watch me work? One day, you’re going to give me a heart attack.”

“Nonsense, Lula Mae. You must have the healthiest heart of anyone I know. You are constantly out walking miles with your dog.” He grinned. “Besides, I enjoy watching you work so hard. I am very impressed by all the jobs women do in your time. We had some who would follow the troops and assist in cooking and washing and mending. Some even dressed as men and hid who they really were in order to fight for what they believed in, but most of our ladies—at least of my class—lived lives of leisure and barely got their hands dirty. I like to see how society has changed to allow women to do what pleases them.”