I’m still working on putting up some 99-cent short stories, and I have another cover done.
In this story, three middle-aged girlfriends go to a soiree given by the high-school French Club, where one of the friends hears a remark, in French, about cutting somebody up. The sheriff, also in attendance, tells her to mingle and see if she recognizes the voice.
Whatever You Say
excerpt from “The French Club Connection”
by Marian Allen
“Mrs. Watson will pour for you,” the student said. “We aren’t allowed even to touch the cups, once the wine is in them.”
Peachy narrowed her eyes, listening closely to his voice.
He cleared his throat. “We really aren’t. We’re underage. Ask the sheriff.”
“We believe you, honey,” Socks assured him. “She’s just … doing something.”
“I’m thinking,” Peachy said.
“Well,” said Socks, “there you go.” She led the way to a huddle of chairs in a corner. Peachy and Lashes followed, Peachy so busy looking over her shoulder she nearly tripped.
In between bites and sips, she filled them in. Every minute that passed since she’d heard that voice made it seem less real. It had sounded unlikely when she had told Sheriff Bonney about it; now, with her best friends listening to her repeat it, it sounded downright looney.
They didn’t say so, but Lashes just stared at her, blinking those natural black picket fences lining her eyes, and Socks said, “My, my,” in that noncommittal way she’d picked up working at the nursing home.
“Oh, never mind,” Peachy said. “I probably heard it wrong.” She glared at the words in her notebook, as if they had conspired to make a laughingstock of her.
A WRITING PROMPT FROM ME TO YOU: If your best friend said they thought they heard somebody make a threat of GBH, what would you do?