Jillian Chantal

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. 🙂

Check out the other tales here.

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.”

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt carry. I am still working on the fantasy story where the heroine can talk to spirits.

Check out the other tales here

A woman stood in front of the old courthouse that Lu knew used to be the U.S. Customs House and Post Office when it was first built.

The woman in front of it was dressed as if she was from the early 1920s. She wore a a blue dress that appeared brown in spots which Lu recognized as dried blood. One side of the lady’s head was caved in. Lu couldn’t see the back of it to determine if she’d landed on her side or back when she took her fatal jump from the fourth floor of the building she stood before.

Molly joined them as they walked across the crowded street. Some of the Mardi Gras partiers seemed to be determined to make a night of it even though the parade was over.

Barkley stepped over to the woman. “This is the lady I told you about who is helping the local police force. She wanted a word.”

Lu glanced around at the crowd. “Can we go over to the little alcove on the side of the building? Being here on the main road where the bars and restaurants are is dangerous for me to carry on a conversation since I’m the only one—besides Aneto—who anyone can see. I’ll look like a lunatic standing here talking to myself.”

“All right. I saw that person who is killing people,” the woman said.

“Not yet. Back there,” Lu used her left index finger to point subtly toward the side of the building where the city usually put up a life size gingerbread cottage at Christmas.

When they got around the corner, only one guy was there and he was in the corner puking up all the beer or whatever he’d imbibed during the course of the day.

“He won’t mind us,” Lu said. “And even if he did, he’d probably think he was hallucinating if he saw any of you or wondered who I was speaking with.”

The woman glared. “You do not seem to be taking me seriously.” She burst into tears. “Just like when I was alive, no one listens to me.”

This was exactly what Lu had feared about the lady. That she was saying she saw the murderer so she could get some attention. There were quite a number of spirits in this old city that had been settled for many hundreds of years. It seems this lady wanted to be the center of attention of their world for a little while.

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt careful. I am still working on my mystery where the heroine can talk to spirits. She just got a hot tip from another spirit about a boy spirit witness.

Check out the other tales here

When she got to the house and told Malcolm what George told her, he immediately wanted to walk down there as she knew he would.

He went and fetched Aneto’s leash and they set off to find the boy.

At the curb in front of her house, she tripped on the root at the foot of the big oak that had to have been there at least three hundred years.

As she staggered to maintain her balance, she said, “Good grief, that’s about the nine thousandth time I’ve done that. You’d think I’d learn to be more careful.”

Malcolm grabbed her elbow to help steady her. “You’re always so eager to get going, your feet sometimes have a hard time keeping up with you.”

“Yeah. That’s it. It’s not that I’m a klutz at all.” She laughed.

“I’ve seen you be graceful.”

“Once in a while I get lucky there, but you’d think I’d recall that big ole root is there. I mean, it’s been here longer than I have.”

“But in fairness, you usually go out the back door.” Malcolm and Aneto walked ahead of her.

“You’re determined to help me make an excuse for being inattentive, aren’t you?”

“That’s what I’m here for. To give you plausible deniability.”

“I thought you were here to investigate a series of murders.”

He slowed his pace until he was beside her again. “I’m walking down this street for investigative purposes, but I’m with you because I want to be around you.” He lowered his head toward Aneto. “And to be the dog walker.”

Lu smiled inwardly, warm at his words. “Well, at least we got that straight.”

“Damn right.” Malcolm pointed down the street past Hub Stacey’s cafe. “The boy’s house is right down there, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll go on down ahead of you and Aneto and see if I can get him to come out under the tree and talk. I think the people who work in that building aren’t overly enamored of people they think are ghost hunting.”

“Would they think you’re doing that if you’re right outside the house?”

“Absolutely. I’ve heard the owner sometimes comes out and yells at the trolley tour people. Silly. They aren’t hurting anyone and are stopped on a public street when they tell the stories.”

“There’s no accounting for some people. They sometimes want to suck all the joy out of people’s lives.”

“Oh yeah. I know.” She knelt by Aneto. “I’ll be right back. Hopefully with the child.”