December Vignette - Sagittarius the Zodian

 Sagittarius 

 

            Embeth hurried down State Highway 5, thankful that the road was practically deserted even though it wasn’t quite nine o’clock. The wind was already picking up, signaling the storm front rolling in. When it arrived, the temperatures would dip into the teens and drop more than a foot of snow. The last thing she wanted was to get stranded out in the middle of nowhere overnight.

            If there was something to be thankful for, the sky overhead for the time being was crystal clear and bright. The moon was three-quarters full and on the wane. It was one of the reasons why she loved living out here. No city lights to blank out the panoply of stars.

            A mailbox loomed in the distance. She noticed the name ARCHER on the side when she passed it. “Three more miles,” she told herself. “Then I’ll be home sweet home.”

            The blowout almost threw her into a state of panic. Embeth wrestled with the steering wheel as she pumped the brakes, hoping to keep the truck on the road. She felt the wind spin her around before pushing her off the tarmac and into the ditch where her pickup landed at an angle that was still somewhat right-side-up.

            It took her several moments for her heart to stop racing as she continued to grip the wheel, her eyes wide with shock. She knew the truck could easily have rolled end over end and landed upside down. The windows could have blown out. She could have been seriously injured, in spite of her wearing her seatbelt. A hundred possibilities that didn’t occur rushed through her until she was finally able to get a grip on herself and take deep, slow breaths.

            She was sitting at a hard slant. The driver’s side door was jammed against the culvert’s slope. Experimentally, she pressed down on the accelerator to see if she had any sort of traction, but other than rocking a little, it was clear the vehicle wasn’t going anywhere soon.

            She reached for her purse but it wasn’t there. Turning on the interior light, she found it wedged underneath the passenger side floorboard. After some struggling, she managed to retrieve it, but her cell phone wasn’t inside.

            Adrenaline continued to flood her system as she pressed her forehead to the seat. “Calm, girl. Calm down so you can think straight. You know the phone has to be in here someplace.” Then she remembered she could call out to it. “Hey, Bailee! What’s the temperature?” There was no answer, and she didn’t have to guess why. “Just my luck, I’m in a dead area.”

            A shooting star suddenly arched high above her, brightening the cab’s interior to where it almost seemed like daylight. It quickly dimmed, leaving her in the semi-darkness.

            “Think, Emmie, think. You’ve read about what to do if you get stranded.” Closing her eyes, she took another deep breath. “I have to preserve heat, but I can’t keep the engine running. I have to turn it off and only turn it back on at intervals. That way the battery will last and I can manage through the night.”

            There was no way she could trudge the three or so miles to her place. On a calm night, it wouldn’t be a problem. But with this storm coming in, the exposure alone could kill her.

            Turning off the engine, she also shut off the headlamps. On one hand she knew she’d be nearly impossible to spot if someone happened to drive past her. But on the other, she hoped she’d be able to see their headlights before then and flash hers to alert them.

            Wind gusts continued to rock the truck. The vehicle squeaked and shuddered like a trapped animal. Embeth undid her seatbelt and tried to get comfortable while also being able to keep an eye on the road.

            She must have dozed off when another intense light blazed overhead. Staring at it, she could almost imagine it was an arrow gliding across the heavens, leaving a fiery trail behind it.

Tightly bundling her jacket around her, she listened to the sound of the wind, and eventually the patter of snow as the first flakes started hitting the glass. By that time the cab’s interior was becoming unbearably cold. Reaching up, she was about to turn over the engine when a man’s face suddenly appeared over the side of the windshield, illuminated by a flashlight. Embeth screamed in fear.

The man threw up his hands, fingers spread. “It’s okay! It’s okay! I’m here to save you!” he yelled so she could hear him above the rising wind.

It took her a moment before she recognized him, or thought she did. She was about to mention it when he called to her, “Can you start the engine?”

Despite her gloves, her fingers felt stiff, nearly unresponsive. Still, she was able to turn the key to the old pickup. There was a grinding noise, but the motor failed to start.

The man shook his head. The fur trim around his hood jerked haphazardly across his face and forehead. “I think your engine stalled!” He gave the door a hard tug. “There’s no way to get you out on this side. Can you climb over to the passenger side door?”

She nodded when in truth she was doubtful. Still, she managed to brace her knee on the center console and unlocked the other door by hand. The guy appeared on the other side of the vehicle and opened it. Embeth reached up to him, and he hauled her out of the cab. She was able to catch a glimpse of what appeared to be a horse before he wrapped her securely in a heavy blanket.

“Just get comfortable. I’ll have you back at my place in no time.”

Back at his place? She didn’t question him but snuggled into the blanket’s folds as the man led the horse down the road. Or rather, along the side of the road.

“Wh-where’s your car?” she asked, peering up at his strong profile. He’d tucked the flashlight inside the blanket with her, enabling her to see him. Yet there was no illumination to show the way. “Are we on a h-horse?”

He grinned. “You could say that. By the way, my name’s Wright, like the brothers who flew the first airplane.”

“What’s your first n-name?”

His chest was solid and warm. Perfect to cuddle against. He must have sensed her feelings and cradled her closer. “That is my first name.”

“Why didn’t you come in a vehicle?” she asked.

“Roads are too slick.”

Then he was out in this weather on a horse?

She was aware of them passing a gate. In the flashlight’s faint glow, she caught the name ARCHER on the side of the mailbox. The one she’d passed earlier.

Wright took her up the short drive and straight inside his house. It was warm and brightly lit. Taking her into the living room, he bent over the back of the sofa to lay her on it. “I’ll only be a minute. Make yourself comfortable.”

Embeth slowly unwrapped herself from the wool blanket and sat up when it hit her. They hadn’t gotten off the horse, but came straight in. He rode it inside the house?

Wright entered from another door, without the horse. She assumed he’d come from the kitchen. He held two mugs, one of which he handed to her. “Have some hot chocolate. It’ll chase away the chill.”

She eyed him over the rim of her cup as she took a sip. She’d only seen him a few times. Random incidents and spottings. Then she remembered she hadn’t given him her name.

“Thank you. By the way, my name’s Embeth.”

“Glad to finally meet you,” he admitted. “I’ve seen you pass by several times. You bought the old Ackerman place, right?”

“Actually, it’s my grandfather’s place, on my mother’s side. My last name is Fields.”

“Let me guess. You inherited it?”

She snorted. She got the feeling she could be truthful to this man. She couldn’t explain why. Same way she couldn’t explain how she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

“I got tired of living in the city, with the high cost of living and all the crime. Thought I’d give my grandparents’ place a try.”

“So you’re not a farm girl?”

She grinned. “Hardly. Between my inheritance and my writing, I manage to get by. I’m happy here.”

“What do you write, if I may ask?”

Embeth snorted. “Crime novels.”

His eyebrows went up. “Wow. Under what name? Maybe I’ve read one.”

“Right now I’m working on my Fallow Fields series under the name E.M. Strother. Strother was my mom’s maiden name.”

She was surprised to see his expression of amazement. “I just finished ‘Beneath the Fallow Fields.’ That was pretty damn good. You had me guessing up until the last chapter,” he confessed.

“Thank you.”

After another minute or two of comfortable silence passed between them, she set her mug on the end table.

“Want more?” he offered.

“I’d like some answers, if you don’t mind.” She tried to keep her voice low and even. She didn’t want to irritate or make him angry at her. Not after he’d gone to all the trouble to save her.

He crossed his legs from where he sat in an overstuffed chair. “What would you like to know?”

“The truth.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she faced him. “I’m grateful you saved me. I really am. I don’t think I would’ve lasted the night out there with this storm blowing in. But how did you find me in that culvert?”

“I was passing by and spotted your headlights.”

“How? That’s what confuses me. My place is farther down the road. I know I’d already passed your cutoff when my tire blew.”

“I told you. I spotted your headlights before you went off the road.”

“How?” She studied him. “You saw me crash?”

“No, but I heard it.”

Embeth shook her head. He sounded truthful, but it still didn’t add up. “Wright…”

He sat up and placed his mug on the floor by the chair’s leg. Turning to her, he gazed at her with a guarded expression on his face. “If I tell you the truth, you won’t believe me.”

“How do you know that? You don’t know me at all,” she countered.

“You’re right. I don’t. But I can sense things in you that make me believe I can trust you.” He bowed his head for a moment, as if to center himself, then looked back at her. “Embeth, I’m a Sagittarian.”

She gave him a confused look. “A Sagittarius?”

“Sagittarian,” he corrected. “Like the zodiac…sort of.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There’s not many of us. Maybe a couple of thousand scattered around the world. But we were…are…the inspiration for the sign in the zodiac.”

Embeth softly chuckled. “I’m not an astrologer, but isn’t Sagittarius half-man, half-horse?”

A slow smile crossed his handsome face, when she remembered the horse they’d ridden back here. He’d kept her bundled, she thought to keep her from becoming more chilled, when in fact…

“You didn’t want me to see you were a, what? Centaur?”

Wright leaned back in his chair. “I saw your truck’s headlights in the distance. I was watching you when I saw the taillights suddenly disappear.” He gestured to his body. “My Sagittarian body is more resistant to this weather. I changed and went looking for you. I was afraid you might have run off the road.”

“How did you find me?”

He grinned. “I shot an arrow into the air.”

Embeth blinked, recalling the line of fire arching across the sky. “The meteor. It was you. Both times?”

“Once I realized you’d wrecked, I went back to grab my coat and a blanket. I’d hoped you’d only be able to see me from the waist up. It was a chance I was willing to take. And, yes, I shot a second arrow overhead in order to find your exact location.” He tilted his head. “You believe me, but you still don’t believe me.”

“You have to admit it sounds a bit farfetched.”

He nodded. “That’s what I thought you’d say. Excuse me for sec.” Getting up from his chair, he went over to the doorway leading to what she thought was the kitchen. He kept his head in view but hid the rest of his body from sight. “This won’t take long,” he promised, and she heard the sound of what she assumed was him undoing his pants.

His head bowed slightly, then there was an odd clomping noise. Wright continued to watch her as he stepped through the doorway, into the living room.

Embeth stared in shock but no longer in disbelief at his equine half. He’d kept his long-sleeve denim shirt on, but she could tell his human half ended at the hip.

“If you want to, you can come over and pet me,” he half-teased.

She got to her feet and made her way over to him. Removing her gloves, she stroked the unbelievably soft hide. The hard muscle underneath. “Your fur is brown, like the hair on your head.”

“What? You were thinking we were all blond Palominos?”

He was teasing her again, and she discovered she liked his good-natured attitude. “Well, yes.”

He watched her examine him. “In case you’re wondering, we’re not born this way. We look human until we’re about twelve to eighteen months old. That’s when we begin trying to transform.”

“It’s a good thing. I dread to think what the doctors would think if you came out of your mother looking this way.”

That made him laugh, and she found herself liking the sound of it.

“Embeth?” He reached out and took one of her hands in his. “I’m trusting you with my deepest secret, but I know I have nothing to worry about. I’ve been wanting to meet you. I’m sorry it had to be under these conditions.”

“I’m not,” she confessed. “I’m glad you saved me. I’m glad you trust me. I’m glad you…” She wanted to say more, but words failed her.

He gave her fingers a squeeze. “You’re welcome to spend the night. Tomorrow morning, we’ll call the tow company to come get your truck out. Hopefully, it won’t be too difficult to fix.”

“I had a blowout.”

“But there could be more damage since you went into the culvert. Don’t worry. We’ll get it all straightened out.”

She stared up into his big brown eyes and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Archer. I accept your offer.” And anything more you might suggest in the near future, she silently pledged.

He let out a breath as if relieved. “Great! Now, I haven’t had supper. Have you?”

“Come to think of it, no. I was planning on making a sandwich when I got home.”

“How do you feel about pancakes? I’m hungry—”

“As a horse?” she interjected, earning more laughter from him.

“I was going to say I was hungry for pancakes, since I sometimes have breakfast for supper, but your analogy is quite fitting, given what we’ve just discovered,” he admitted with wide smile.

“Pancakes work for me. Show me the kitchen.”

“It’s right in there. I’ll join you shortly. I need to put my pants back on,” he said, adding a wink.

Giving him one in return, she smiled and went to get started on their meal.

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New! ZODIANS, 12 Romantic Vignettes Based on the Star Signs by Linda Mooney

New!

ZODIANS
12 Romantic Vignettes Based on the Star Signs
Paranormal/
Contemporary Fantasy
/Post-Apocalyptic
by Linda Mooney
Word Count: 24.2K
$2.99 e / $9.99 p

 Includes:

Capricorn – Phillip discovers his guide is more suited for the terrain than he knew.

Aquarius – Meomi inherited her family farm, only to be hit with a major drought.

Pisces – Elliot came to get his fortune read. Instead, Dorrie discovered hers.

Aries – Thugs thought the old couple camping out would be easy prey.

Taurus – Tark saves a young heifer sent to the slaughterhouse where he works.

Gemini – Lucia thought she was the last person alive after an apocalyptic event.

Cancer – Arlene offered him water on a scorching summer day, not realizing how he would react.

Leo – Linsie discovers why one particularly reclusive movie star is considered to be “the least vain man in Hollywood”.

Virgo – Penni finds out that sometimes a minor traffic infraction can be a good thing.

Libra – It has been years since Myles has met a woman so pure of heart.

Scorpio – Aria’s story about a missing child isn’t what Hart expected to hear. Then again, she was nothing like he expected either.

Sagittarius –  It wasn't until an accident on a cold winter's night that Embeth finally got to meet her neighbor.

Excerpts and Buy Links: https://lindamooney.com/anthologies.htm 

November Vignette - Scorpio the Zodian

Scorpio

             “Her name is Aria Whitley. She lives over on Benbow Lane. I need you to go over there and get her statement.”

            Deputy Hart Merrick gave the sheriff a quizzical look. “Why does that name ring a bell?”

            Sheriff Hennesy snickered. “That’s ‘cause most folks around here refer to her as Miss Witchley.”

            “Why Witchley?”

            “’Cause the woman has a gift. You could say she’s psychic.”

            “Is she?” Hart queried.

            His boss shrugged. “It depends on whether or not you believe that sort of crap. All I know is that when she calls us and gives us some information regarding a case we’re working on, she’s pretty much spot-on.”

            “What’s her batting average?” Hart asked, curious.

            “Oooh, I’d say…” The sheriff looked him directly in the eye. “Around ninety-nine-point-nine percent.”

            “Damn!” Hart’s exclamation got a laugh from the man. “So let me guess. She’s got information about the missing Kulp kid.”

            “Or so she says.”

            This comment got him curious. “Are you saying you’re dubious about her claim? After all you’ve just told me?”

            Placing his elbows on his blotter, Hennesy leaned over his desk. “Let’s just say no one, and I mean no one, has ever had a perfect batting average. That goes for this woman. Yeah, I’m hoping that what she has to tell you is another home run. But sooner or later she has to strike out. Know what I mean?”

            Giving the man a nod, Hart turned to head out the front door. “I’ll let you know what I find out as soon as hear. By the way, why doesn’t she come here to tell us? Why do I have to go over there?”

            “That’s the way she prefers it. She’s a very private person. Considering her track record, we’re more than happy to accommodate her if it means getting the answers we need.”

            “All right. Talk to you soon,” Hart remarked and left the station.

            It was a good fifteen-minute drive to Benbow Lane. The short stretch of road was no more than a wide dirt path that wound around the trees rimming Alverson Lake. This time of year, the poplars and maples had already shed their leaves as they awaited the first winter snow.

            He didn’t have to ask which cabin belonged to Miss Witchley. Whitley. Whitley! he chastised himself. You sure as heck better not call her by that other name.

            The little green wood frame home was the only one along that stretch. A curl of smoke came from the rock chimney and an antique Volkswagen sat inside an equally small garage.

            When he pulled up to the front, he noticed a figure sitting in the rocking chair on the porch. The frail figure was bundled up against the chill. As he climbed out of his squad car, the woman got to her feet.

            “Good afternoon, Miss Whitley. I’m Deputy—”

            “Merrick. Hart Merrick. Formerly with the Yaegerton Police Department. Thank you for coming.”

            Hart almost froze in his tracks. He’d been expecting a wizened, elderly woman. Instead, he saw a young woman in her early to mid-twenties. Jet black hair. Eye color, undeterminable. Features, undeniably captivating.

            She looked back at him from where she stood in the doorway. “Are you coming in or not? I fixed coffee.”

            Coffee? Didn’t most women fix tea?

            Dumbstruck, he hurried up the steps and walked into a living room that, again, challenged his expectations. There was no vintage overstuffed sofa with needlepoint pillows. No chintz curtains. No bric-a-brac figurines on the fireplace mantel. No sepia-colored photographs of past family members hanging in gilt frames on the walls.

            Hart stared around him at the leafy green potted plants. A brightly colored rag rug lay on the floor. The sofa was polished leather and gleamed in the firelight coming from the hearth.

            The place was cozy and comfortable, and Hart immediately took a liking to it. In fact…

            I wish I had a place like this.

            “Deputy Merrick?” The woman stood less than a yard away. She’d ditched her coat to reveal a pair of gray sweatpants and a baggy gold sweater, both of which made her appear more feminine and vulnerable even though Hart knew the opposite was more like the truth. Two mugs of steaming coffee were in her hands. She handed one to him with a smile. “One pink sweetener, no cream, correct?”

            “How’d you… Never mind.” He took a sip and immediately approved.

            The woman…Aria. For some odd reason, he couldn’t think of her as Miss Whitley…took a seat at one end of the sofa. Clearing his throat, he placed his mug—not a teacup on a saucer—on the side table with the lamp and pulled out his notepad and pen.

            “Sheriff Hennesy said you might have some information regarding the whereabouts of Lukas Kulp.”

            She took a sip of her drink. “Lukas Kulp isn’t missing. His stepfather took him over to his sister’s house in Durberville.”

            “His stepfather took him?”

            “The boy’s mother’s been abusing him. Has been ever since the boy’s father left her three years ago. The stepfather took him away from her to save the child’s life.” Aria tilted her head as she studied him. “It’s not what you expected to hear, was it?”

            “Are you sure it’s the stepfather who’s hiding the boy, and not the mother?”

            She gave him a wry grin. “I know you’re new in town, but when you report back to Sheriff Hennesy, he’ll confirm what I said about the mother.”

            “I’ve no doubt. In Durberville, you said?” He jotted the name down on his notepad. “Anything else you can give me?”

            “Not at this time.”

            Sighing, he closed the pad and shoved it back into his pocket. “Miss Whitley…”

            “You can call me Aria so you don’t accidentally call me Miss Witchley like the townspeople do,” she remarked with a warmer smile.

            He chuckled. “Busted.”

            “So what’s your question?”

            “You could’ve just as easily told us this over the phone. Why did I have to make the trip over?” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you ask for me specifically?”

            “No. I knew Hennesy would send you instead.”

            “Then why—”

Because I wanted to meet you. I hope to gleam an understanding as to why you quit the police department in a city like Yaegerton and moved here.”

            Hart crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought you were a psychic. You don’t know already?”

            She casually took another sip of her coffee. “I see events, usually after they’ve happened. What I don’t see is the reason behind them.”

            “You just told me the stepfather absconded with the Kulp kid because the mother was abusing him,” Hart reminded her. “That sounds like a pretty valid reason to me.”

            “I know where the child is and who took him there. The rest is my supposition. My reason is why, as Sheriff Hennesy told you, I’m correct only ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time.”

            Hart knew his mouth had dropped open but he couldn’t help it. There had been no one else present at the station when the sheriff had spoken with him. “What are you?”

            “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

            “Try me. No, let me guess. You’re a witch like the people claim.”

            “No. That’s old hat anyway.”

            “But you are psychic. Did you inherit that ability?”

            “You could say I did. Actually, I’m a Scorpian.”

            Hart knitted his brows. “You’re a Scorpio. So?”

            She shook her head. “Not a Scorpio. A Scorpian. We’re known for our psychic abilities.”

            “What’s the difference?”

            “A lot, Deputy Merrick.”

            “Does Sheriff Hennesy know?”

            “I’ve told him. Of course, he also assumes I’m talking about my zodiac sign.”

            “Why are you telling me all this?”

            “I told you.” She pointed at his mug he’d set on the side table. “I wanted to get to know more about you, and I was wanting some company. Have a seat and enjoy your coffee before it gets too cold. Except I know you like iced coffee, too, so maybe it won’t matter.”

            Hart chuckled. “You’re a strange woman, Aria.”

            “I prefer it that way.”

            “Is that why you’re up here on this lake all alone? Where’s your family?”

            Lifting her mug to her lips, she smiled again at him over the rim. “Guess you’ll have to take another trip up here on your day off to find out. There’ll always be a warm fire in the fireplace and a hot cup of coffee waiting for you when you get here.”

            “Is that a promise?” he halfway teased.

            “Guess you’ll have to find out the hard way,” she responded.

            Reaching for his mug, he took several swallows. It was good, and a damn sight better than the stuff brewed at the station.

            He glanced across the room. And the fireplace. The company. The overall ambiance of this place. He wanted to ask her if she had an idea where all this would eventually lead up to, but he had a sneaking suspicion he already knew the answer.

            And he wasn’t the least bit psychic.

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October Vignette - Libra the Zodian

Libra

             “Hey, Myles?”

            Myles glanced up from the ring he was resizing. Sliding the magnifier to his forehead, he waited for Steven to continue.

            The salesman threw a thumb behind him. “There’s a lady who wants to sell us some jewelry.”

            Myles nodded. “Thanks. I’ll go check it out.” Getting up from his stool, he grabbed his scale and carried it out into the front of the store.

            The woman was standing by the case of freshwater pearls. For a second, he paused to observe her—how she looked, how she dressed, the way she clutched a small black velveteen bag in one hand. He judged her to be in her mid-twenties.

            “May I help you?”

            She straightened and looked over at him. A timid smile transformed her ordinary face to one of beauty as she took in his headset. However, he was more intrigued when her eyes widened at the sight of the scale he’d placed on top of one counter.

            She walked over and place the velveteen bag in front of him. “I need to sell this jewelry. I was wondering if you’d be interested.” She motioned toward the front door. “Your sign says you buy gold.”

            Judging by her dress and shoes, he didn’t take her as the type of woman who held anything expensive. Expecting to see a collection of costume jewelry, he pulled a display tray from under the counter and set it in front of him. “Let’s see what you have.”

            Taking the bag, he opened the braided silk ties and carefully poured the contents onto the lined tray. What he saw lying before him almost took his breath away.

            “Where did you get these?” he asked. For a fleeting second he wondered if she’d stolen the pieces. Or worse, if she was trying to fence what someone else had pilfered.

            “They were my grandmother’s.” By her tone and the honest sadness he heard, all thought of him looking at stolen jewelry flew out the window. That intuitive instinct also gave him fleeting hope.

            Picking up one ring, he dropped the magnifier over his eyes and turned on its light. He brought the piece close to his face as he admired the unique and definitely dated cut of the diamonds in its center.

            “I haven’t seen this kind of cut in a very long time,” he admitted. “That makes these diamonds very rare, and that alone makes them worth a lot of money.” Removing the magnifier, he ran his fingertips over the other items on the tray. There were two engraved gold bracelets, four pairs of drop earrings he’d bet had the same cut of diamonds, and two more rings. The bracelets alone were of a quality of gold that hadn’t been used in over a century. Myles gave her a stern look. “Why are you selling these? They’re heirlooms, and worth a whole lot more than I could offer you. You’d be better off taking these to an auction house and having them auctioned off.”

            The woman shook her head. “I can’t wait that long. I’ve done what I could and sold what I had to, but I’m still behind in paying my property taxes. The bank’s about to foreclose on the house. I have nothing else that’s worth anything, so I was hoping…” Tears ran down her cheeks, forcing her to stop and wipe them away.

            Intrigued to learn more, Myles dropped his professional persona. “Listen, Miss…”

            “Pierce. Georgiana Pierce.”

            “Miss Pierce, where did you say you got these?” he asked, hoping to glean a bit more information before continuing.

            “I told you. They were my grandmother’s, and she said they’d been in the family for ages. I hate the idea of having to sell them, but I’m at the point where I have no other choice.”

            “How did you get hold of them? Does she know you have them?”

            The woman seemed to bristle. “I didn’t steal them, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

            Myles held up a hand, knowing he’d stepped over the line. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that, usually, jewelry like this is handed down to the next child in line. The next living son or daughter, like your mother or father.”

            “I never knew who my father was. That part is blank on my birth certificate. My mother was a drug addict and died a couple of months after I was born. My grandparents raised me, but Pawpaw died six years ago, and Nana died last year from cancer. I was their only living relative, so I got the house and property.” Her lower lip trembled. “And I’m about to lose that, too.”

            Myles studied the woman. Everything she’d said sounded plausible. Truthful. But there was one more test he had to do before he could make any final decision.

            The doorbell sounded, indicating another customer had entered the store. He turned to call for Steven when the man quickly exited the back room and went to wait on them.

            Not wanting to risk any of the antique jewelry being stolen, Myles leaned over the counter to whisper, “Let’s take this into the back where we can have some privacy.” The woman nodded, and he gathered up the tray and scale.

Once they were alone, he set the items down on his worktable and went to fetch a nearby chair for her to sit in. Going back to his bench, he placed the gold bracelets on one side of the scale. A quick check of her hands didn’t reveal any jewelry she was wearing. No bracelet or ring. Not a necklace. Neither did she have any earrings. Wondering what he could ask of hers to place on the other scale, he remembered the black bag she’d been carrying. The velveteen bag that still held her touch, her scent. And more importantly, her essence. Picking it up, he placed it on the other side, then waited.

The woman gave him a curious look. “What…”

He held up a hand for silence.

Together, they stared at the scale. At the perfectly even pans that gave him his answer. The answer he’d been hoping for.

Smiling, he sat back.

She continued to be confused. “That can’t be right…can it? I mean, those bracelets are real gold. They’re heavy. There’s no way they can be equal in weight to that empty bag.”

“Not in that way, no,” he admitted.

“Then how…”

He turned to her. “Miss Pierce, may I call you Georgiana?”

“Yes.”

“Georgiana, what I’m about to tell you may seem farfetched, but it’s the truth. You see, this isn’t an ordinary scale. Yes, it does weigh objects, but it also weighs more than weight. It also weighs truth and integrity.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand. Are you saying that scale is…magical?”

“Only in the hands of someone like myself.” He couldn’t believe he was telling her this. Then again, he could count on one hand how many people he’d met in his lifetime who balanced as perfectly. Who had such a purity of soul. He gazed deep into her eyes. And he couldn’t let this one get away.

“Like yourself? What do you mean?” she inquired.

“I’m a Libran. A justifier.”

“You’re not a gemologist?”

He chuckled. “I’m that, too. But as a Libran, I have the ability to pass judgment on people by comparing what they’re telling me to the truth.”

“The truth?” She shook her head. “How would you know if it’s the truth or not? I don’t understand.”

He pointed to the bracelets. “Those are a given. Concrete evidence. Fact.” He indicated the black velveteen bag. “That represents you because you’ve touched it. It holds your essence, you could say. Normally I would ask the other person for a piece of their own jewelry, or a scarf, or something they’ve been in contact with. You’re not wearing any of that, so I used the bag. Tell me, Georgiana,” he indicated the scale. “What do you see?”

“I see the bracelets and the bag are equal in weight, when I know for a fact they shouldn’t be.” She was perplexed, but she was also becoming angry, and he knew why. She suspected the scale might not be calibrated correctly.

Myles shook his head. “Not this time. Not yet, anyway. You see, I asked the scale to weigh your story about the jewelry belonging to your grandmother to the truth. The fact that the two pans are perfectly even tells me you were telling me the truth. That everything you’ve told me is exactly as you’ve said.”

Georgiana continued to stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

He took a deep breath. “And now, when I tell the scale to weigh the items according to their true weight…”

The scale suddenly shifted. The pan with the bracelets dropped to the table, leaving the other pan with the bag at the top.

“Now let me see exactly what you’ve brought me,” he declared and reached for the electronic scale he kept in the drawer.

She pointed to it. “I was wondering why you were using that old-fashioned thing and not a scale like that one.”

“In my business, Georgiana, I’m often brought jewelry items that have either been stolen or pawned off as being more expensive than they really are. Some have even been recast or covered with a thin layer of gold to cover up a lesser grade of metal.” Myles tapped the foot of his balance scale. “This little lady has been my salvation in discovering those frauds and saved my business hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

He quickly checked the other pieces. As he’d suspected, the diamonds in the drop earrings were of the exact same cut and clarity as the ones in the ring. When he was done, he jotted down their estimated value on a notepad, tore off the sheet, and presented it to her. “I don’t know how much you owe in back taxes, but I think this will cover it.”

Georgiana gasped at the amount tallied. “Are you sure? Is this for real?”

“That’s what I believe you could get from a reputable dealer, yes. At an auction house, I can pretty much guarantee you’d get more. But see that amount I underlined? That’s all I can offer you at this time.” He watched her bite her lower lip and knew what she was going to say before he heard the words.

“That much will pay the bank what I owe,” she informed him. “Please, Mr. Robb.”

“Call me Myles.”

“Please, Myles. I’m fine with that total. How soon can you get me the money?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t keep that much cash on hand in the store, but I can write you a check that you can deposit. In fact, the Second Union Bank is on the next block over.”

“I know. That’s where I bank.”

“Good! So do I. Why don’t I walk you over there, and we can settle up this whole thing together. Then, if you don’t mind, since it’s almost lunchtime, I would love to buy you lunch, unless you already have a previous engagement.”

She seemed both delighted and taken aback by his offers. “I would like that very much, Mr…Myles. Thank you. And thank you for all your help and kindness.”

“Hold on a sec. Let me put these away in the vault first before we go. Then I have to let Steven know where we’ll be.”

He quickly moved the tray of jewelry to the vault, then closed and locked it. If the salesman needed to get into it while they were gone, he’d have to wait until Myles returned since he didn’t know the combination.

Georgiana graced him with another one of those beautiful smiles when he joined her at the front door. Feeling more lighthearted and hopeful than he had in years, he prepared himself for an enjoyable hour or two getting to know more about Miss Georgiana Pierce.

And once their first of what he wished would become many dates was over, as soon as he got back to the shop, he’d contact his friend at the auction house to set up a meeting. He was certain the man would jump at the chance to sell such a wondrous collection of antique jewelry. And after the monies were collected from the sale, and he’d reimbursed himself the amount he’d pay Georgiana, he’d give her the remainder.

Because it was the right and true thing to do.

            After all, he was a Libran. 

Linda's Website

September Vignette - Virgo the Zodian

September

            Penni continued to stare at the computer screen. She’d taken two breaks and gotten herself a soda from the vending machine in the lounge, hoping they would clear her head, but she still couldn’t crack this blasted code.

            A glance at the clock in the corner showed it was nearly nine p.m., and she groaned. “Give it up for tonight, girl. Go home, let the old brain cells rest, and tackle it again tomorrow.”

            She closed out the program and shut down the computer. She didn’t have to look around the office or peek over cubical walls to know she was the only occupant left on this floor. It was okay with her. She didn’t mind working past normal quitting time. She didn’t get paid overtime. She was straight salaried. She did so because it was in her nature. She enjoyed her job, and she enjoyed working.

            After all, with no one to go home to, what would be the point? she thought to herself as she got into the elevator and took it down to the main lobby.

            Stan, the night guard on duty, glanced up from his paperback book when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. He tossed her a smile when he recognized her.         “Another late night, eh, Penni?”

            “Unfortunately, a fruitless one,” she admitted with a sigh. “I’m hoping a good night’s sleep will re-energize my brain cells so I can tackle that damn algorithm with a fresh perspective in the morning.”

            “Good idea. Need an escort to your car?”

            “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

            The man gave her a wave. “Have a good rest of the night! Sleep tight!”

            She walked out to the parking lot, knowing the man would be watching her until she safely got into her vehicle. Sliding under the wheel, she locked her door before starting the engine. What followed was like a little ritual for her: lock, start, seatbelt, kiss.

            She smiled at the small wheat amulet hanging from her rearview mirror. Pressing a kiss to her forefinger, she touched the amulet then put the car into gear.

            It was a twenty-five-minute drive to her apartment if the traffic wasn’t heavy. This time of night, it wasn’t. Combined with the fact that she was beginning to feel exhaustion creeping up on her, she took the chance and pressed down on the accelerator, hoping to trim a few minutes off that time.

            A yawn caught her by surprise. Giving her head a shake, she completely missed seeing the vehicle parked on the side of the road with its lights off until after she whizzed past it. Less than a second later, red and blue lights went off on its hood, and the police car pulled onto the road behind her.

            Penni uttered a choice word and slowed. Pulling her car into the parking lot of a Save U Rite, she stopped and shut off the engine. From her side mirror, she watched as the patrol car eased up behind her, lights still flashing. A single figure got out and slowly approached.

            “Good evening. I’m Officer Oratami with the Weyr Police Department. May I please have your driver’s license and proof of insurance?”

            Wordlessly, she handed him the two items she’d placed in her lap, knowing he’d be asking for them. In the glare from the nearby light pole, she could see the man’s face. He was young, but he had that air about him that told her he wasn’t a rookie.

            “Ms. Stollings, do you know why I pulled you over?”

            “Yes, sir. I was speeding.”

            He nodded. “You were doing sixty-five in a fifty. Is there an emergency or some valid reason why you were going that fast?” He sounded professional. Calm. Maybe a little bit bored. It made her wonder how long he’d been on his shift.

            Penni shook her head. “No, sir. I’m on my way home. It’s been a very long day, and I’m tired. I have no excuse, really.”

            “How long a day has it been?” he inquired, curious.

            She checked the clock on the dash display. “I reported to work around seven-thirty this morning, so it’s been over fourteen hours.”

            “A fourteen-hour shift, eh? Where do you work?”

            “At Greenbelt.”

            He appeared surprised. “I didn’t know people who worked there worked such long hours.”

            She managed a weak smile. “Actually, I enjoy my job. I often work extra hours, even though I’m on straight salary.”

            “You’re a go-getter?” he gently teased. “Trying to climb that corporate ladder?”

            “Nope,” she honestly admitted. “I just like my job.”

            “If you don’t mind me asking, how does your family take to all these late nights?”

            Taking a deep breath, she let it out with a loud sigh. “I’m on my own. No family. Well, except for Pickles.”

            “Pickles?”

            “My cat.”

            “Ah.” He held up the driver’s license and insurance card. “Give me a minute or two to check to make sure you’re legit. I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for her to respond, he strode back to his vehicle. She was able to watch him consult with the computer in his car. As he promised, he was soon back.

            “You have a remarkably clean record, Ms. Stollings. Not even a speeding or parking ticket.” He slowly shook his head. “Either you’re very lucky you haven’t been caught before now, or this is truly your first infraction.”

            He held out her credentials to give back to her. She reached up to accept them when she saw the name tag above the breast pocket: V ORATAMI.

            Plucking the cards from his fingers, she was about to place them in the side pocket of her purse when she caught him staring inside her car. More specifically, at or out the front windshield. She turned her head to see if she could detect what had caught his attention, but there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary happening.

            “Miss?” the officer asked and pointed. “What is that?”

            That’s when she realized he was talking about her amulet. “Oh, this?” Lifting it from where it hung, she held it out to him. He took it almost reverently and laid it in his palm. “It’s my amulet.”

            “My mother had one exactly like it,” he commented, running a thumb over the surface. “Is this one made of wheat, too?”

            “Yes. I got mine from my mother. I guess if I ever get married and have children, I’ll pass it along to one of them.”

            “If you don’t mind me asking you this, and you don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to, but was anyone in your family a Virgon?”

            She wasn’t aware of her gasp of surprise until she saw his eyes widen. “Y-yes. I’m a Virgon. So was my mother. How do you know about—”

            “My mother is a Virgon.” He tapped his chest and smiled. “That makes two of us.” He chuckled. “Now it makes sense why you work all those extra hours and such. I’m guilty of the same thing. I’ll work a double shift anytime we’re shorthanded. I guess you could say we Virgons are gluttons for punishment.”

            The comment made her smile. “Mom used to say the same thing. She said it was a personality trait we’re born with.”

He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “That, and a few other traits.” The officer returned the amulet to her, adding, “I have one almost exactly like it in my squad car. I never go on shift without it.”

            She couldn’t help herself but to ask, “When is your shift over, Officer Oratami?”

            “Shift change is at ten o’clock. I get off then, but I still have to write a few reports before I can call it a day.” He stared at her, and she got the impression he wanted to ask her why she wanted to know. She chose to answer his unspoken question.

            “I usually order a pizza after I get home when I work late. How do you like yours?”

            Oratami didn’t seem surprised by her invitation. A few seconds of silence passed before he replied. “Do you get it on a whole wheat crust?”

            “Of course.”

“I’ll eat it with any kind of topping as long as it’s not anchovies or pineapple.”

            She turned her head, looking away from him when she smiled. “I’ll leave the entry light on.”

            He straightened. “If I let you go with just a warning, I won’t have to fill out a report, and it won’t go on your spotless record.”

            “Sooo, when do you think you’ll be by to help me eat it?”

            “Eleven…ish?”

            She nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’ll be waiting.” Finally looking back up at him, she added, “Thank you, Officer Oratami.”

            “Vince. My first name’s Vince.”

            “Nice to meet you, Vince. Until later?”

            He stepped back to let her depart. From her rearview mirror she noticed he remained standing there in the parking lot, watching her as she drove away.

            Oddly enough, she discovered she was no longer tired or sleepy. She was excited, a bit apprehensive, but happy to have found one of her own kind.

            “Or would that be he’d found one of his own kind?” she wondered aloud.

            It didn’t matter. Their meeting, although accidental, had to have been preordained.

            After all, it was just another one of their traits.

Linda Website