Flash Fiction Friday

Prompt: Yeah, an umbrella.

Ginny ate her ice cream as fast as she could, the yummy chocolate deliciousness doing nothing to calm her down. How could she be calm when the nasty detective refused to leave her alone?

Not much had been spoken since he assumed she was threatening him. She may do some idiotic borderline things at times, but she’d never be dumb enough to threaten a detective.

She wished he’d leave already. As she scooped another spoon full of ice cream in her mouth, she returned his unnerving stare. If he insisted on staying, he could at least say something rather than stare at her.

Maybe this was part of his ploy to get her to confess. Ha! He’d be waiting for a very long time because she had nothing to confess. She did not kill that woman, nor had any intention of killing somebody.

Please do not let another person die like one of her paintings.

Her paintings were not for the faint at heart. They were very private pieces. Part of her soul that she needed to cleanse from her body. Maybe some wouldn’t understand, but she didn’t really care. There were things so dark and disturbing inside of her that she needed to get out. Painting was the only way she knew how to do that.

Setting her empty bowl on the table, she then scooted her chair back and stood up. “Have a good day, Detective.”

With that, she left. He didn’t follow her, which rather surprised her. He didn’t even say a word of goodbye.

What was the point of sitting there and staring at her for so long if he wasn’t going to stop her from leaving? Was this another ploy? Well, it wasn’t going to work on her. She had nothing to confess. Nothing that would help him with his murder case, anyway.

She waved goodbye to Tommy, who was behind the counter helping a customer, and rushed out of the café as fast as her feet would carry her.

Light drizzles of rain fell on her cheeks, warming her up. The rain always lifted her mood, just as ice cream did. She loved the simple things in life. Rain, to most people, was a dreary mood killer. For her, it just made her feel happy. There was nothing more fun than jumping into a big puddle and creating a huge splash. Or catching raindrops on her tongue. When she was home, curled in a big comfy blanket, listening to the pitter-patter of rain falling down always soothed her. The sound centered her into a sense of peace when most of the time she was a tumble of torrent emotions.

A smile lifted as she started to walk. She needed this, especially since the ice cream didn’t do the trick. As she strolled down the sidewalk, making her way to her apartment a few blocks away, her heart skipped a beat as the rain picked up its pace. Light drops to a steady flow.

Fifteen minutes later, she made it inside her building, almost sad that her walk was over. She even slowed her pace to enjoy as much of it as she could.

The cold air, mixed with her wet clothes, made her skin prickle with goose bumps as she waited for the elevator. Suddenly, a warm hand captured her shoulder. Jumping, she turned to see Detective Brands standing before her. His hand fell away.

“This is harassment. I should report you to your supervisor.”

An umbrella hung by his side, his knuckles white. “Don’t you pay attention to anything?” The frown he wore turned fiercer. “Where the hell is your umbrella? You’re soaked to the bone.”

What about her threat to report him? He was just going to ignore that. Why did he care about the rain? What was his deal?

“An umbrella? Did you not pay attention? Stop harassing me!”

A muscle in his jaw twitched as he lifted his umbrella. “Yeah, an umbrella. It keeps the rain away.”

“I like the rain.”

“And it can be used as a weapon.”

She jerked back. “Excuse me?”

He stepped closer, almost nose to nose with her. “Like I said, you don’t pay attention. You didn’t see the black car following you home.” His hot breath enticed her more than she cared to admit. One little inch separated their lips. “What are you hiding?”

And that simple question broke the spell he had weaved upon her senses. She stepped away. “Nothing. I’d like to change out of my wet clothes. Since you insist on being a pest, let’s go and get this over with.”

She knew he wasn’t about to leave. And honestly, she didn’t want to be alone just yet. She didn’t like him at all, but oddly, he made her feel safe.

He was also right. She hadn’t been paying attention. She had no clue someone followed her home.

Who was it?

And why?


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