Welcome to this week’s edition of Romance Writers’ Weekly. Have you come over from A.S. Fenichel’s blog? Welcome!!!
Fiona Riplee offered up our topic this week. Flash fiction – Your hero & heroine are playing an “old-school” board game (one with an actual board or pieces old or new – just not a video game). The winner gets a special prize. 1000 words or less.
Did I follow the rules??? NO! This was why I didn’t graduate with honors. I did something, but not quite what was required. I forgot the board game and just had a game.
Kate. She was the key to the missing car and the fifteen pounds of heroin he’d neglected to turn over to the evidence department. And now he’d have to beg or spend a long, long time in prison. He took his cruiser over to her apartment, a sweet little place overlooking the Naples Yacht Club and Crayton Cove.
Three knocks and she answered in nothing but a green silk nightgown and carrying a bottle of tequila.
“Come on in, Officer.” She turned around and sauntered back to the bar, all hips and attitude. She didn’t pour the poison into shot glasses. Not Kate. She poured the Jose Cuervo into tumblers, at least two fingers worth. Holy hell, it was going to be a long night.
“Listen, honey. I’m not here for anything but the information on a certain car.”
“Want the information, sweetie? Drink.” She handed him a glass.
He took a drink. The liquid burned his throat and made him cough
Damn, strong stuff.
“Take it easy. This stuff can grow hair on your chest.” She stared at Harry’s chest a bit too long. “Maybe you’d need a bit more to get the follicles working.”
“Are you done?” He didn’t need this aggravation. He needed to get what he was there for and then leave, hopefully, never to return.
She walked out to her balcony and sat at a small table. Harry followed. The woman was drop dead beautiful. Dark brown hair, green eyes that slanted up at the corners just enough to give her an almost feline appearance. He looked away to get his bearings. She would rip him apart without a second thought. A pelican was flying low over the water and several boats were headed back to their slips for the night.
He glanced back at her to see her smirking because she had the upper hand, as always. “How about this, you match me drink for drink for the next hour and if, and trust me, this is a big if, you’re still standing, you get the information.”
“Deal.” He had no other choice. Threats had never worked on her in the past. Kate was made of steel.
She shot back the tequila and placed the empty glass on the table. “Ready for the next one?”
Harry blew out some of the tension in his chest and then shot down the rest of his drink too. “Ready.”
He followed her inside to the bar where she poured two more tumblers, higher this time.
“This really is a waste of time, Harry.”
“Why is that?”
“The car may be miles and miles away by now. Perhaps sold to someone who bought it in good faith.”
She lifted her glass to his and tapped the edge. “We’ll see.”
They both downed the drink together. Her face unconcerned and cool, his not so much. This was awful stuff.
“More?” she asked. Her mouth lifted into a grin.
He handed her the glass. “Hurry up. I need the information.”
This little back and forth went on for the next twenty minutes until the bottle was dry and another was close to the same fate. Kate had moved herself to the living room couch, her legs kicked up on the coffee table. Harry sat in the recliner opposite her. A warm fog surrounded his thoughts and soon, the world went black.
He woke in the backseat of the 1968 Mustang he’d owned since high school. The car he’d been searching for.
His clothes were missing and two empty bottles of tequila littered the floor. “Son of a bitch.”
He’d have to move the heroin to the evidence room before anyone noticed. He sat up too quickly, the dizziness gave him a headache and made him want to puke. And then he noticed the blue lights. How the hell could he explain that amount drugs in his own car?
“Harry Tornetti, fancy meeting you here. Nice outfit.” John Shipton laughed and directed a flashlight at him.
“Maybe he was so happy to locate the car, he decided to celebrate,” Tim Smith said.
“Screw you. How did you two locate the car?”
“Someone called the police tip line.”
“Let me guess, a female.”
John decided to be an asshole and photograph the “evidence” before throwing him a blanket.
Harry struggled to get up, but he needed to know. He went to the back of the car and opened the trunk. Inside was nothing but an envelope with his name on it.
John peered over his shoulder, flashlight still in his hand. “Payment for last night, pretty boy?”
“Don’t say a word, Shipton.”
The envelope contained a note in Kate’s handwriting.
Here’s the car. I took the liberty of cleaning out the trunk for you. Say hi to all your police buddies and remember that crime never pays, unless of course you’re a criminal.
And that was it. The drugs were gone, and he was in the clear. And Kate? Well, he’d see her soon enough. It was only right to replace the tequila after all.
Your next stop is Lia Fairchild – She played the game right and included a board game. Jose Cuervo somehow made it into both of our stories. I think we share a bond!!