Tuesday Tales: From the Word SHOE

Welcome to November 2020 and this month’s first Tuesday Tales post. Each week, a small group of authors invite you to peek inside their works in progress. This week’s word is SHOE. Once more I continue with The White Dahlia, The Harvester Files, Book Four.

 “So you aren’t even sure the cases are connected?” She would swear they were. Her gut told her so, and it was rarely wrong. “By the way, what cruise ship was it?”

“The Emerald Queen. I know where you’re going, but that wasn’t the ship Rachel was on two years ago, not even the same cruise line. When I thought someone had grabbed them and pulled them into the sex trade, I had a good look at the profiles. Rebecca’s a redhead, five years older, while Rachel was blonde, barely twenty-one. The women didn’t move in the same social circles and had nothing in common—not friends nor social media. They had some of the same apps, but most people do. Unfortunately, any phones, cameras, tablets, or laptops they might’ve had must’ve been with them when they disappeared. There wasn’t any luggage in their apartments, either. What little we did get came from their work or school accounts.”

“There has to be a connection,” she insisted, tapping her foot, the toe of her puke-covered shoe brushing against the hem of her pants.

Damn! That will probably stain.

She stilled. “What about a travel agency? Where did they get their tickets? Having Rebecca disappear and finding Rachel a short while later is a little too coincidental for me.” She raised her hands, palms up. “I learned not to trust coincidences when I worked in Boston.”

He crossed his arms, raised his hand to rub his chin, and narrowed his eyes.

“So you don’t bleed NYPD blue. Neither do I. I spent twelve years in St. Louis before coming to Manhattan. When did you work in Boston?”

“Six years ago. I moved to the city after we closed a big case. I needed a change of scenery.”

“So you were there when the Harvester was. That case was big news nationwide. I thought that Prophet was the most depraved a person could get—but I was wrong. This is sicker on too many levels to count. My predecessor bragged about being instrumental in giving Boston their first break in the case. He cooperated with Detective Tom Adams over the Mary Green case. Did you know him?” “Yeah, I worked with Tom. He retired about the same time I transferred to New York.” Talking about Tom and the Harvester case was dangerous, especially when it occupied so much of her own thoughts.

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.