Jillian Chantal

This week’s word for the writers of Tuesday Tales is anxious. I am still in my paranormal tale.

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Craig cleared his throat. “The box has been opened a few times by cold case detectives, but he’s optimistic it could still be there.”

“Will you get the current people to take a look?”

“When I get a chance to talk to them. Today’s the last day I’m riding with Parker and it’s been pretty busy. It seems the bad players in town are revving up for the holiday.”

“Be careful out there.” Sophronia couldn’t bear the thought of losing him after just finding him again.

“I am. Having to be on my toes as Parker is on the warpath for some reason.”

“Didn’t I tell you she has a thing for you? She’s probably angry you’re not going to be her partner any longer.”

“Na, she always knew this was temporary.” He laughed it off.

“Did you tell her we’re back together?” Sophronia knew he had and, in her gut, she knew the woman would not be happy about it. Parker had made it clear that night of the attack that she didn’t like Sophronia and thought Craig was making a mistake being so helpful when he insisted on taking her to the hospital.  

“You know, you may be right after all. Now that you mention it, she started being in a foul mood within minutes of me telling her about you.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter. We won’t be partners and will rarely cross paths. It’s not a big deal.” He coughed. “But speaking of crossing paths, I ran across your pal Matthew today.”

“You did? How so? Did you go looking for him?” Anxious that Craig may have done something to get himself in trouble at work, she sighed deeply. “I hope you didn’t do anything rash.”

“No way. I merely asked him to give me the key Haydn found.”

Her stomach dropped. “Did you get it?”

“Not yet. He said he accidently pocketed it that day and he’d get it back to you soon.”

Sorry I have been AWOL on the Tuesday Tales train. This year has already kind of been kicking my rear. I am sharing a little of the paranormal story today. The word of the week is mud.

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She tossed up a little thank you to the sky and returned to her car to drive to the Oak Street house. Laughing at herself for the thought, she said, “I’m going to be like those people who name their houses. Mine shall be Oak Manor.”

Haydn stirred when she opens the door. “We’ll take a potty break in a few minutes. I’m going to park the car in that lot a few blocks from the manor so no one will see it in the driveway and know I’m there. I want to spend some time in my house by myself.” She grinned at her dog in the rearview mirror.  “With my best boy, of course. One who always agrees with me.”

He woofed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Except when I cut off the treats at two.”

Her spirit was light and free for the moment. She’d made direct contact with the spirit of Sophie and had a plan of action. It was the most in control that Sophronia had felt since the night she was attacked.

Taking it slow and allowing Haydn time to explore the route to the house from the parking lot, Sophronia enjoyed the walk. It wasn’t as cold as the weatherman predicted and the gentle breeze felt good. She hoped Craig was having a nice time with his family, but wished he was there beside her enjoying the day. “There will be plenty of holidays in the future. This one will be just you and me, Haydn. And that’s all right by me. What about you?”

The dog ignored her as he snuffled around with his nose in the mud.

“Don’t get all messy. I didn’t bring a towel to wipe you down.”

The word of the week this week for the authors of Tuesday Tales is clock. I am still in my paranormal book.

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Feeling silly as she normally wasn’t superstitious and didn’t really believe in anything paranormal, she called out, “Attention anyone here who thinks making those banging noises is going to scare me off, this is now my house and I’m going to be moving in soon. You can share the place peacefully with me or I’ll find a priest to oust you. Let’s get along, okay?”

She laughed at herself for being an idiot, but since there was no banging sound, she felt even safer than she did when she turned on the lights. If there was still a vagrant or squatter here, they must be gone. She still hadn’t been in the downstairs rooms and figured she might find evidence of such a person there. That has to be the explanation for the sounds Alice and I heard. I’m sure of it.

Even though she told herself that, she was still a big daunted about going into the attic alone. What if there’s another snake there? Get over yourself. If you’re going to live here, you have to not be afraid to be here.

She made it up the second flight of stairs—the one that led to the attic room that fascinated her—in almost a dream-like state. The silence was eerie. Sophronia pulled on her earlobes just to be sure they still worked to let in sound.

A cuckoo clock went off at that moment, startling Sophronia. She let out a little squeal. “Stop it. It’s just a clock.”

She opened the door to the turret, turned on the light, and entered. The book was not on the floor where she left it.

Panicked that someone had been in there and stole it even though she herself couldn’t take it out of the room, Sophronia’s eyes darted around the room. Desperately seeking the volume. If it was gone, her heart would break. She knew it.

But there it was. On the podium where it was when she first saw it.

“How did you get back up there?” She asked, feeling silly again. Talking to a book. Good grief.

The writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt of year in this last week of 2020. I am still working on the paranormal story.

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Sophronia clocked out at four and left the assistant manager in charge.

As soon as she got in her car, her phone rang. She sighed. Yes, she had blue tooth capability in her ten year old Volvo, but she still didn’t want to drive and talk. The goal in leaving a bit early was to pick up Haydn, feed him and head out to Oak Street.

But the phone call was Alice so she picked up. “I’m in the car getting ready to go get Haydn.”

“Okay. I’ll be quick. You’re off early. I thought I’d catch you still at your desk.”

“Slow day,” Sophronia lied. She wasn’t going to tell Alice the real reason as she wanted some alone time in the attic.

“Sorry. That’s not good. More online shopping again, I guess.”

Sophronia didn’t want to rush her friend but she did want to drive on to get her pet. “I’m glad you called. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you this week.” Sophronia almost said it was a hectic one, but she’d just lied about today’s busy day. She caught herself before she made the lie worse. This is why I try to tell the truth.

“I just wanted to let you know I’ve been talking to Matthew—by the way, he told me he ran into you Monday night—and he’s done some research on your house.”

“Did he tell you how he ran into me?”

“No. Why? I presumed it was one of those random things that happen in life.” She paused a second. “Wait. I know you and your vivid imagination. Did you think he followed you?”

Hearing the indignation in her friend’s voice, Sophronia forced herself to say, “No. no. Of course not. What I meant was it was dark and he didn’t identify himself walking behind me. It kind of freaked me out.”

Alice laughed. “Yeah. He did tell me that part. I told him he shouldn’t do that. You read too many murder mysteries and true crime books.”

A little peeved she’d shared this part of Sophronia’s life with a stranger, she tried to keep the anger out of her voice when she said, “Did he find out anything interesting about my house?”

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

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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.

The writers of Tuesday Tales are writing this week to the word brazen. I am still working on my paranormal story.

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“Do many people win when they challenge wills?” Sophronia’s palms were sweating. Marcus and his temper really rattled her.

“Not if they were prepared by a competent lawyer with ethics.” He smiled. “And I assure you, I am that.”

“Thank you. I’m relieved to hear it. I’ve been on the verge of coming in and telling you I don’t want the house as I’ve been worried about it.”

“Was that why you came here today? To turn down the inheritance?”

“No. I wanted to talk to you about Marcus. I’m afraid he’s been following me. Someone was in the house the other day and someone also came in my apartment and searched through my papers.”

“And you think it was him?” A worried frown passed over his brow. “I know he’s brazen and a hothead, but I can’t believe he’d break the law like that. It’s troubling.”

Talk about an understatement. Troubling? Sophronia wanted to say something sarcastic, but bit it back. “I don’t know him at all, I’m afraid. Only from the day in your conference room when you read the will. I’d never seen him before that day.”

“Have you alerted the authorities? If not, perhaps you should. Or invest in a security system.”

“I haven’t done anything yet. All of this just happened this past weekend.” Coming here was a mistake. He isn’t going to help.

Mr. Brundidge looked at his watch. “I’m sorry, but I have another appointment soon. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Considering he hadn’t helped her at all, Sophronia thought the use of the word else was a little over the top. “I just wondered if Mr. Wright ever told you why he’d leave his house to me. Why wouldn’t he leave it to family?”

“All he ever said was his grandchildren never came to see him and you were kind and always concerned about him.”