TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "GRAY" #romanticsuspense #suspense #romance

Welcome! This week, we continue with the story, "The Chase" using the word prompt "gray". Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thank you for stopping by. 

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“You don’t know her name?” Tim snapped off a small bunch of grapes.

“Hmm. Let me see.” She closed her eyes and clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Fiona. Fiona, I think. Yes. Fiona Nelson or Nerson. Don’t you have her name in your files somewhere?”

Tim reached into the breast pocket of his jacket. “You were half right. Fiona Malsom.”

“Yes!” Rennie bolted upright.

“So? Where is she?”  Tim replaced the paper.

“There must be some information in her apartment.”

“She’s moved out.”

“So? Everyone leaves crap behind. Let’s go.”

Tim cocked an eyebrow.

“Don’t you have the key?” Rennie pushed to her feet.

“Yeah. So? I can’t just go in there.”

“Why not?  You said she’s not living there anymore.”

The log broke, falling away into small glowing embers. Rennie tugged on his sleeve.

“Come on.”

“Why? Why do we need to find her? Maybe she already knows? Maybe she’s ghosting this guy?”

“Where’s your sense of adventure? Romance?”

“I don’t believe in that shit.”

“Well, I do. And I happen to have some free time. Let’s go.”

“You go ahead.”

“Let me into the apartment.”

Tim rose and joined her. “I hope this doesn’t get me fired.”

“What a scaredy-cat.”

His nostrils flared as he straightened his shoulders. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Obviously, you are.”

“Okay, okay.” He yanked the door open and strode across the hall. After shoving the key in the lock, he turned it and pushed open the door. “There. Happy?”

Rennie took a tentative step over the threshold. “Geez. The place is a mess.”

A broken chair lay on it side. A coffee table with only three legs perched precariously in front of where a sofa might have been. Papers of all sorts lay scattered on the living room floor.

“Let’s check the bedroom.” Rennie grabbed Tim’s tie and pulled.

“Okay, okay. Lay off.”

“Sorry.”

“Afraid to go in there by yourself.” He cast her a sidelong glance.

“How’d you guess?”

The bedroom was no better. A stained Tee shirt accompanied one sneaker on the floor by the closet. A thin bookcase held a smattering of worn paperbacks.

“Look!” Rennie pointed.

Tim bent down and picked up a small gray notebook. “I’ll be damned. It looks like an address book.”     

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