Chicks on the Case readers are some of the most creative folks on the planet. Come play Chick Pic with us! Who is this character? What’s their back story? Victim, murderer, nosy neighbor, innocent suspect? The more ridiculous, the better! Each comment can build on the next–or, start a new one. Writing is all about rewriting, after all.
You may think you know who this character is–she does bear something of a resemblance to one of us Chicks–but we think there may be more than meets the eye to this person here. Any ideas what she’s up to? Or what has she discovered? (She looks a little smug.)
Chicks on the Case 
She is definitely hiding something. Perhaps in the wood pile or behind the cabinet door. There’s something afoot and one wonders, if there is more to this photograph.
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She does look sneaky…Hope it’s not a body.
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She’s just set up a bug in that stereo equipment on the shelf. She’ll sneak out before the three thieves meet at this cabin to discuss their next heist.
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Ha, the stereo equipment. It looks pretty strange beside all those antique books. Plus the wires could be dangerous in the wrong hands…
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She has tricked everyone into thinking she’s a slightly eccentric, and totally harmless, writer who lives in a cabin in the woods. Little does everyone know, she’s a premiere spy, who is watching everyone’s next move and trying to figure out how to put it in her next book.
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“Slightly eccentric”…and possibly maniacal. She’s especially looking forward to the explosive ending of her book.
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Under the woodpile is a secret trap door that Marguerite -not her real name- used to access a web of tunnels below London.
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Ooo, London! But…does Marguerite have to scurry through those tunnels with the resident giant rats? Maybe she tags them with secret messages to deliver to her accomplices. You know, carrier rats.
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*Oh, Lisaaaaa* (in my sing-songy voice)- Who did you kill now, dear?
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Marguerite does not know this Lisa of whom you speak. Really, how many killers do you know named Lisa? Heh-heh.
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After she finishes recording the conversation of the thieves, the bugged stereo will self-destruct. There’s a lot of wood in this cabin, and a nice toasty fire will get rid of all evidence of her tampering.
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Sadly, Marguerite scorches her lovely tweed skirt like Jo March by standing too close to the fire. She is careful to edge sideways from the detective so he doesn’t notice the incriminating damage and link her to the dastardly crime.
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That knowing look means one thing: the book that’s slightly askance is the one to pull in order to open the secret passageway. Then it’s out into the night and onto her next mission.
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After she ties up a few teensy loose ends, of course…
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Haha! INDEED.
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There are books missing from that shelf. And the incongruous tangle of cords makes me think the mysterious and eccentric Margeurite has an accomplice. And does one of those logs have dried blood on it? Where is that accomplice anyway ……
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Curses! Marguerite did not notice the dried speck of blood on that log. Just before the Inspector enters to ask his pesky questions, she pulls it out from the pile and slides it under her spot on the couch…just in case. In doing so, she pushes the body of her accomplice even further back under the couch.
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The neighbor’s German shepherd takes that moment to shimmy once again through the cat door, and makes a beeline for the couch. Sniffing around, he gently bites the well-worn and beloved sneaker of his owner. He tugs harder, enjoying this new game.
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As soon as the inspector leaves, Marguerite drags that body through the tunnel to the family crypt. There’s plenty of room to stash him on the slab behind Uncle Mortimer’s name plate, since Uncle Mort only faked his death.
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When Mort changed his name to Marguerite and donned that red sweater, nobody was the wiser. Not even the German shepherd next door.
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I think that’s Lisa’s evil twin.
Lisa, if you are really okay, let us know. But if you need to be rescued from the evil twin taking over your life, say the code word and we will come rescue you.
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There’s a song playing from that CD player–soft but very clear–that contains a code which only the REAL Lisa will be able to decipher. All others who listen will be driven slowly mad by its intractable, horrifying melody.
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LOL, Leslie! And quit listening to me sing!
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