I am working on my next chapter for Rubicon Ranch, the collaborative novel I am writing online with eight other Second Wind authors. If you haven’t yet checked the story out, you can find what we’ve written so far at: Rubicon Ranch. JJ Dare’s chapter is especially chilling. My chapter isn’t due for a while, but I need to get a head start, since who knows what writing projects I will be involved with when my turn rolls around again. Here’s a bit of what I wrote today:
The sheriff poured two cups of coffee from an urn on a rosewood sideboard, set them on the table, and slid into a chair opposite Melanie.
“What do you want with me?” she asked.
He gave her an innocent look as if he didn’t know what she meant. “I just want to feed you.”
“Yeah, feed me to the sharks,” she muttered.
“You’re very clever, aren’t you?”
She sat up straight. “What?” The word came out almost as a shriek. She modified her tone, but did not try to conceal her anger. “Are you suggesting that I had something to do with that little girl’s murder?”
“Why do you assume she was murdered?”
“You’re saying she wasn’t murdered?”
“Did you know the girl?”
“No. I might have seen her, but I didn’t pay much attention to what went on in the neighborhood. Wait! I bet she’s the one Alexander told me about. Right before his accident, he caught a little girl snooping around in our backyard.”
“I never saw the report.”
“Report? Oh, police report. He didn’t turn her in. Professional courtesy, he said. He was a bit of a snoop himself. Supplemented our income with photos of celebrities.”
“Did he ever take photos of your neighbors?”
Something in his expression—an added alertness—alarmed her. “Are you thinking Alexander might have been killed?”
“Why do you ask that?”
She shot him an exasperated look. “Having a conversation with you is like trying to talk to a four-year-old who has an attention disorder.”