Tuesday Tales 2025-9-2 Cool

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, powered by a small group of authors, where word prompts inspire passages in the books we’re writing. I’m working on a cozy mystery, Pumpkin Patch Murder. Our word of the day is cool. When you finish the passage, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.

I didn’t see him as sensitive but still hadn’t completely bought his aloof, cold fish persona either. I hurried to my car.

Needing to cool off, I decided to hit the Dairy Belle drive-thru for an old-fashioned sugar cone nutty buddy. I exited the parking lot from the far end and pulled slowly onto the road that ran past more businesses and, eventually, out of town. I drove with caution, as the area accommodated substantial foot traffic. As I approached the import/export office, two men in animated conversation caught my attention. One of the men was Mason. The other was the burly man in the hoodie I had just seen outside Helen’s back door. Burly sported a full beard that covered most of his face.

There weren’t any parking spaces, and anyhow I couldn’t stop without appearing obvious. I slowed down to a crawl. When I was almost parallel to the scene, Mason shoved a wad of bills at Burly and pointed down the road, as if demanding he get out of town. Crunching down in my seat a little, I passed them by. The rearview mirror showed Burly barreling into the driver’s seat of a maroon pickup truck. My eyes popped. I had been so intent on the men that I hadn’t noticed the truck. It looked identical to the one that had run me off the road on my way up to Glisten. Was I dreaming or was this the same man and the same truck?

Worried Mason would see me or recognize my car, I turned left at the next intersection. Then, on impulse, I zipped right again at the next opportunity and then back onto the road leading out of town. What had Mason been paying Burly for, and how far back did their transactions go? Was his running me off the road a mere coincidence or something more sinister?

Though it should be ahead of me, the maroon truck was nowhere to be seen. My hands were shaking. I clamped down on the wheel and sped up. Determined to catch up with it, I kept going for five miles beyond the city limits. Still no sign of it. Burly had either floored it or ignored the apparent instructions from his benefactor to leave town.

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the piece inspired by the word cool. If you haven’t done so already, check out the other excerpts at Tuesday Tales.

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