Welcome to Tuesday Tales, powered by a small group of authors, where word prompts inspire passages in the books we’re writing. Today’s word is common. This snippet is from a cozy mystery set in fictional Glisten, Georgia. When you finish reading, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.
I settled back in the chair. “In my mind the witness seeing Luella grab Vee’s arm bears out Luella’s version. She didn’t notice anyone watching them. She didn’t come up with a convoluted backtrack story to cover her actions. She went back inside, Vee ran down the trail, and someone else came along and killed her.”
“It’s a viable assumption, if Luella has told me everything, which I believe she has. The DA, of course, will conclude otherwise.”
“Can you negotiate bail?”
“Definitely not on a Friday night. The DA’s timing is impeccable. Likely a bond will not be granted at all. If she’s not considered a flight risk, I suspect she will be tagged as a threat to the community. Or another common charge will be added, obstruction of justice.” A sharp crackle sounded through the phone. “I have to go, Peri. It’s pouring and lightning here. I live up on the ridge.” Her final words were rushed, and we hung up.
The air pressure dropped, and an angry rumble sounded above. The hairs on my arm prickled. I hurried to the window. Dark, fleet-footed clouds were rushing in. Brady’s workers scattered like an ant colony under attack, hurrying to get their equipment covered. The heavens were about to open in a gully washer. I pushed a button to call Dovie and fill her in on our misfortune before the storm got too bad, but the call failed to go through. The downpour had started. I sank into a chair to watch the rain.
The next morning I awoke from a nightmare of the murdered woman imploring me to find her killer. What good was it if the spirit stayed away from my real life but still invaded my dreams? Specifically, the dream happened just before waking so I’d be sure to remember it. My subconscious obviously tracked with Luella’s story, or the dream wouldn’t have focused on finding the real killer.
Faint sounds came from outside. I peeked out my bedroom window, remembering that today the crew would scrub the old carriage house and gazebo and freshen more of the plantings around the parking areas. I was glad the inn’s exterior had already been scrubbed and treated before I made my way to Georgia. After yesterday’s downpour, the grounds looked lush and clean. Water still slow-dripped from the shrubbery around the gazebo.
Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the piece inspired by the word common. If you haven’t done so already, check out the other excerpts at Tuesday Tales.
Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Spirited Stories
All rights reserved, copyright @ 2024 Flossie Benton Rogers
Great scene. Love the term gully washer. Poor Luella. Someone definitely has it in for her.
Thanks, Susanne!
I have that same experience with dreams. It’s wild when that happens. We had a gully washer here today! LOL I love it when the pressure drops and it cools off and then, bam! here comes the storm. Jillian
Only recently have we begun with our hearty thunderstorms this season. So refreshing!
Same here.
Great snippet!!
Thanks!
Love the detail of the inn and the thunderstorm that rolls through. I hope she finds the real murderer. Great job!
Thanks, Tricia!
Tension is building faster now. I really need to know who the murderer is!! I love your use of language. “Gully washer” – never heard it before, but it’s so very descriptive. Great job!
Glad you like the gully washer heh heh.