Death Southern Style
Excerpt from Death Southern Style
Perrine Dupré hurried down the street. She needed to get home.
Dark New Orleans clouds hovered overhead. Thunder rolled. Large drops of late
May rain pelted the streets of the French Quarter. It sounded like hail as the
fat globs bounced off the pavement behind Perrine. The ozone mixed with the
scent of magnolia and the smell of shrimp and fish cooking in the area.
The older African
American woman struggled against the wind. It whipped her umbrella inside out.
She clutched it tightly so not to lose it. Rain blurred her vision. Thunder
crashes caused her to jump. She stumbled up the three steps to her front door.
Her daughter was coming home for a visit. Perrine’s pulse increased and a smile
sneaked out.
Perrine loved her
New Orleans. She hated to travel, but two years ago she’d gone to New York to
see Julie Ann and her new business. It was a mass of busy airports and crowded
flights, but she’d enjoyed seeing the city and staying in her daughter’s
apartment. Her daughter had showed off her new interior design business, introduced
Perrine to a few of her friends and dragged Perrine to some of the typical
tourist activities. Julie Ann had been getting her designing business
established then and had a challenge taking time off to leave and come home.
Recently she’d taken on a partner. It freed up a little extra time. Tomorrow
Julie Ann would be home in New Orleans and Perrine could give her a big hug.
Juggling her
parcels, umbrella and the key Perrine jabbed it in the direction of
the lock. Finally, the key found the opening and turned.
Thunder rumbled a
little louder, sounding like pins crashing in a bowling alley.
Perrine turned the
doorknob and froze.
One of her psychic
visions flashed in front of her. Her shoulders sagged. A man stood inside. Her
visons didn’t lie. She wasn’t going to see Julie Ann after all. And she'd miss
their regular telephone call tonight, too.
She wasn’t prepared
to die. A single tear shimmered down her cheek. Her heart pounded. She clutched
her parcels to her chest. Why now?
Lightning flashed.
Thunder crashed again.
He waited for her to
come inside.
The vision showed
her crumpled on the ground in front of the house. She’d run, but obviously she
wasn’t going to get far. Even if she managed to escape, they would kill her
eventually. And after tonight Julie Ann would be home. She would also be in danger.
The family was too
rich and powerful. They didn’t care about collateral damage or anyone who might
get hurt. Had they killed off all the other people involved? Was that why the
documentation wasn’t important anymore? The birth certificate should have been
enough.
There was so much
she should have shared with Julie Ann. At least then she would be aware of the
threat.
Perrine didn’t
want to die in the house. It would leave a permanent stain and memory. Julie
Ann might never enter the house again if Perrine’s body was found inside.
In her mind, Perrine
stared into the depths of the house, hands trembled, freezing cold filled her
chest. She had to make a decision. He was getting ready to make a move. Perrine
dropped her parcels, turned and raced down the steps.
The skies opened
wide and lightning flashed across the sky, turning it an electric white.
Perrine crumpled to the street. No one heard the shot. An icy shroud of death
enveloped over her.
The front door closed. The lock clicked.
She felt no pain, not even when a boot kicked
her sharply in the ribs - twice.
The feet moved away.
A gate squeaked.
A car engine roared to life.
The phone rang. No one answered it tonight.
Her spirit prepared to leave.
Perrine
regretted that she’d never shared any information about Julie Ann’s real mother
with her daughter, or how her mother had been murdered. She’d tried to protect
her baby.
Perrine’s
mind dimmed. She prayed to her god to help her keep Julie Ann alive. Her spirit
gradually left her body and floated away. Using her fading power, Perrine
pulled on the power of the Priestess to allow her to remain on earth, in any
form.
Julie Ann would be at risk. Perrine might still be able to protect her. She needed to be there, at least in spirit, for her daughter.
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2 comments:
Thanks for having me, Alethea.
My pleasure!
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