“Taxi!” she waved a hand at the yellow cab, and it pulled over. Stepping in a puddle in the process, Anna dove inside.
“823 Sugar Maple Drive,” Anna said to the driver, struggling to keep from breaking down sobbing as she wrung out the soaking bottoms of her jeans.
The cab didn’t move. Anna looked up to find a very familiar face watching her in the rear-view mirror.
“Anna Sloan?” said the cabbie, sounding amused. Anna looked into those dark eyes reflected in the mirror and felt a chill.
“I guess today can get worse,” she muttered, “Derrick Foss, what in heaven’s name are you doing driving a taxi?”
“A better question is what the devil are you doing in my taxi?” said Derrick Foss, “You aren’t even supposed to be in the city. And where’s your boyfriend? Shouldn’t you two be spending this very special day together?” His tone was sarcastic.
“Drop dead, Foss,” Anna said. She opened her passenger door.
“Listen, Sloan,” said Foss, settling back in his seat, “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“There’s nothing you could say that would interest me,” said Anna.
“What if I said there was money in it?”
“I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw this cab.”
“What if I said Jason was in on it?”
“Jason Copper?” Anna’s grey eyes widened.
“The very same.”
“Jason Copper’s dead.” Anna got out of the cab and slammed the door. She caught sight of Foss’s face as he drove away—he was laughing.
Today's Novel Idea Prompted by: "A taxi, an old enemy, and Valentine's Day." courtesy of Creative Writing Now.