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 golden. When you finish the passage, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.
“Slow down. Someone ran you off the road?” What does Mason have to do with it?”
“I’m not sure. It could be a coincidence. I’m a little stressed. I didn’t even get my nutti buddi. I have a golden tier coupon that expires tomorrow.”
“Nutti buddi? Peri, you’re not making sense. You sound as if you’re having a medical event. I’ll call the paramedics. Where are you?”
“No!” I swallowed, stiffening my spine and forcing myself to slow down. “I’m fine. But I need to talk to you, not officially though. Is that okay?”
“Yes. Where are you?”
Afraid he’d call 9-1-1 despite my wishes, I told him I’d meet him in the park in ten minutes and then hung up before he did something over the top, such as initiate a call trace.
He got there before me. When I pulled up, he exited his vehicle and slid into my passenger seat. His demeanor signified serious business. “Tell me,” he demanded.
Without interrupting, he let me talk. Though I had the impression I was still talking a mile a minute, I did my best to clearly explain the incident that had occurred on my way to Glisten and the scene I had just witnessed. “It looked like the same truck,” I insisted, “and the same man.”
“Why am I just now hearing about you being run off the road?”
His question floored me. “With Jack being injured and everything else going on, it didn’t seem important or even connected.”
“Did you see the tag number of the truck that ran you off the road?”
“No.”
“Would you be able to pick this guy out of a lineup?”
“No, I mean, I couldn’t see his face. He was bundled up, as I told you. And now he has a big black beard. I’m not imagining things, Roy. I think it was him, but I’m not a hundred percent sure.” I sought his eyes. “I thought I should tell you, just in case.”
“Okay. Not to worry.” He seemed to relax a little. “I’ll pull up the incident and check it out. I’ll also nose around, without mentioning you.”
“Thank you. You’ll let me know what you find out?”
“Yes. Are you all right to drive?” He peered at my hands. Luckily, I had plastered them to my lap.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“You positive?”
“Yes.”
“Then go home and wait for my call.”
I nodded. “After I get my ice cream.”
Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the piece inspired by the word golden. 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 @ 2025 Flossie Benton Rogers
Poor Peri. I certainly wouldn’t be in any shape to drive. Great scene.
Me either, but the ice cream sounds good.
After her harrowing experience, I can’t blame Peri for wanting a nutti buddi. She’s my kind of gal.
It sounds tasty, doesn’t it?
Wow! Run off the road? Yes, how does one get a good look at someone who’s trying to do that? I’m sure I wouldn’t. I hope they find the truck and the man so we can find o ut what’s going on. Great story!!
I don’t know …. I LOVE my ice cream! But I don’t think I could handle any after this happening. I probably couldn’t drive like she is either.
Me either. I think she’s zombified lol.
I love that he listened to her and that there is a substantial lead in the case. And I agree with her – ice cream first! Great job!
Yum– yes! Priorities.