Monday's Mystery - Part 1

 Good morning,

It's a chilly morning here. Not freezing, but in the 40s last night. Today is supposed to be sunny and in the mid to upper 70s. Yesterday was really windy, and we're supposed to have some wind today, but maybe it won't be as much.

This week has been good but busy. I'm still working on finishing up (I keep thinking "finishing" and something else comes along) the prep for the release of "A Homewood Christmas" which has been fun. Be on the lookout for a video promotion about the book because each of the authors are reading a little blurb about their story, so yes, you can hear what each of us sound like! 

I've been writing more of "Kate & Kylie" and more of "Finding Home" (which is my story-I-shouldn't-be-writing story). "Kate & Kylie" is now over 30k words, and "Finding Home" is over 15k.

I've also been working on blog posts. I am almost done with all the posts for this year! And I'm hoping I can get some for next year done as well. 

This afternoon all 8 of my nieces and nephews are coming over. They'll eat supper here, then the two oldest boys have volleyball games. Some kids will go watch that, others will stay here. Then most of the kids will spend the night, and we'll have at least the youngest one probably all day tomorrow. It will be fun but busy. 

Today's story is the first thousand words of my Monday's Mystery. I have not written much on this story, so don't expect to get very far. It has been very nice and quiet waiting its turn while I work on my other stories. And since it was being so nice, I thought I'd let you read the first part of it.

 

 

Monday's Mystery

Part 1

    “Key, I need you. Bets.”
    Logan Lucas Kent stood on his front stoop and looked at the postcard in his hand. He hadn’t heard from his baby sister in years. Flipping the card over he looked at the picture on the other side. It was a log cabin set in the woods, and it said “Daniel Boone National Forest” across the bottom.
    “Hmm.” Lucas turned the card over again. It looked old. “Like one of the ones we might have gotten as kids when we visited so many national parks. But why would Bets be writing to me now?” He reread the message.
    “Key, I need you. Bets.”
    A frown settled over Lucas’s face. He knew two things. One, his sister hadn’t called him Key since they were kids. And two, she wouldn’t have asked for help unless she was desperate. Absently he tapped the postcard on his hand and stared across the quiet neighborhood.
    Turning abruptly, he stepped back inside and shut the door to keep out the heat. “Okay, Bets, you must really need me. But why? And why didn’t you just call me?”
    With one stride, he crossed the room and picked up his phone. Quickly, he scrolled through his contacts until he found his sister’s number.
    “We’re sorry,” an automated voice answered at the first ring, “the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected.”
    “No phone. Is that why you resorted to the U.S. Postal Service?” Picking up the postcard again, Lucas scanned it. No return address. The postmark was faint, but it looked like some city or town in Texas. Or was that Tennessee?
    “If you wanted help, why didn’t you give me an address, Bets?” Lucas groaned. “I’m not a detective, and the last birthday card I tried sending you came back saying you’d moved and had left no forwarding address. How am I supposed to help you?” He squinted again at the postmark.
    “Nate! He works at the post office. Maybe he can tell me where this was postmarked.” Then he groaned. “But he’s working. I’ll have to wait until this evening. Can I wait that long?”
    After tapping the postcard with its request for help on his hand for half a minute, he suddenly reached for his phone again and sent a text to Nate.
    “Hey, I need help knowing where something was mailed from. Can’t quite read the postmark. Can you help?”
    Lucas had started a list of things he needed to pack when a message came back.
    “Take it to Sharon at the PO. She knows her postal marks.”
    “Thanks.”
    Snatching his keys and the postcard, Lucas almost ran out the door, pausing only long enough to lock it, then hurrying to his car. “Please, Lord,” he prayed as he drove the ten and a half blocks to the post office, “let someone help me. Bets must need me.”
    The post office was empty when he arrived, and he hurried to the counter. A moment later someone came out of the back room.
    “Can I help you?”
    “I need to see Sharon.”
    The woman gave a nod. “I’ll go see if she’s available.”
    Apparently asking for Sharon wasn’t uncommon, and Lucas found himself half smiling.
    He was studying the poster of stamps on the wall when an older woman with short, curly gray hair came from the back room. Her smile was bright and friendly.
    “I’m Sharon. What can I help you with?”
    Lucas placed the postcard on the high counter. “I need to know where this was postmarked. Nate Higgins said you could help.”
    Without a word, the woman picked up the glasses which hung around her neck and put them on. She bent over the postcard and studied it. “Well, it’s Texas, but the town is a bit hard to read. Postal workers really should keep an eye on the ink of their cancellation stamps. It would save a lot of trouble.” She turned away from the counter and opened a drawer. After rummaging through it, she pulled out a book and returned to the counter. “Let’s see, Texas–” And she flipped to near the back. “It doesn’t have all the tiny towns–wish it did–but maybe . . .” Her voice died away as she pulled the postcard closer and began comparing the faint stamp with names listed in the book.
    Lucas could only wait and pray. “Please help her find it, Lord. Help me know where to look!”
    “Well, I’d say it was mailed in Wimberley, but the mark is so faint that it could just as easily be Woodcreek. They are close to each other . . .” Her voice died away as she tipped the postcard to get a different light. “I think it’s Wimberley. And it was mailed–” She peered at the cancellation stamp again. “Looks like four days ago.” Sharon looked up. “Wimberley doesn’t have an airport. You’d have to fly to somewhere like Austin or Dallas and then rent a car.”
    “I was planning on driving.”
    Sharon nodded, her glasses slipping down on her nose. “I’d say it would be about a seven hour drive depending of course, on how many stops you make.” She slid the postcard across the high counter to him.
    Lucas picked it up. “I haven’t seen my sister in four years.” He shook his head. “Thank you for your help.”
    “You’re welcome. I hope you find her and can help her.”
    “Me too.”
    “Oh,” Sharon said, “if you are going away, would you like your mail held for you?”
    “I hadn’t thought of that. Yes, please. Though I don’t know how long I will be gone. Can I change it if I get home early?”
    Sharon nodded, and the form was quickly filled out.
    Then Lucas, after another word of thanks, turned and walked away.
    Wimberley, Texas. He had no idea where that was nor why Bethany was in Texas to begin with. The last he had known, she and her husband and son were living in New Mexico. 

 

Did you enjoy this first part?

What would you do if you were Lucas?

Have you ever wondered what I sound like?