“Please pick up, please pick up!” she chanted to herself while the phone kept ringing and ringing. Reluctantly, she used the code they'd developed years ago.
“Pardon me,” said Tom T. Urkee”
The last time they'd used that phrase, Russ had been the one in trouble. She smiled as she remembered the incident which has cemented their long friendship.
He'd better not be in Columbia, again.
Hoping for coffee, Katherine was not surprised to find a note instead.
“Dear Kat, sorry to run, but I just can't handle this. I'll be in touch.”
Classic. Sighing, she made the coffee herself. Russ would call soon.
It's Saturday Centus. Here's Part IV of my continuing story, earlier pieces are below. If you'd like to join us, link up at Jenny's, and check out the rules. 100 words, don't mess with the prompt (in bold italic). You don't have to string them together, I'm just doing that for an extra challenge.
Good grief. On a night like this, even I might say, “It was a dark and stormy night,” thought Katherine as she negotiated the hair-pin turns on the rain-soaked country lane. This wasn't her plan for the evening. But what can you do when your baby sister calls you, desperate for help in the crisis du jour, and you're just sitting at home, planning revenge. Not just any revenge, but a revenge so clever and intricate that no one would be able to guess who or why. A revenge that would make this novel another best-seller. Tonight, though, she'd have to settle for real drama.
Katherine gave herself a pep-talk before getting out of the car. “Do the best you can. Get out as quickly as you can. Don't let her talk you into anything illegal. Again.”
“Oh Katherine, you'll never believe what accidentally happened!”
Yes, I probably will. She was used to cleaning up after her sister's messes. And sure enough, there he lay. Elaine's latest lover, in a pool of blood. Shot through the head, she guessed, from what she could see. Well now, this was worse than usual. "This is never going to come out," she thought as she scrubbed at the spot on the worn carpet.” But, it would make another good scene in her latest murder mystery.
The early November sunshine cast golden rays of unwelcome light in her eyes. She tried to stay wrapped in the old quilt, while turning over and staying on the skinny sofa. Thud. She hit the bare wood floor. That spot hadn't come clean, as she'd warned Elaine. The rolled up rug lying by the front door was a quick reminder of what today would bring. And she wasn't looking forward to it. She'd disposed of numerous dead bodies over the years, but doing it for real as opposed to in her writing was not something she'd planned on. It was finally time to call in a favor.