The Red Brick Haze: Tolosa Mysteries, #0

By R.W. Wallace

No good deed goes unpunished.

When an explosion lays waste to part of the city of Toulouse and the citizens attempt to recover in the ravaged cityscape, Louis runs to the aid of people in need.

Chivalrous intent clashes with nefarious goals as Louis has to save himself and those he loves.

This is a novela prequel to the Tolosa Mystery series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.W. Wallace
• Release date: Dec 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9791095707028

R.W. Wallace

R.W. Wallace writes in most genres, though she tends to end up in mystery more often than not. Dead bodies keep popping up all over the place whenever she sits down in front of her keyboard. The stories mostly take place in Norway or France; the country she was born in and the one that has been her home for two decades. Don't ask her why she writes in English - she won't have a sensible answer for you. Her Ghost Detective short story series appears in Pulphouse Magazine, starting in issue #9. You can find all her books, long and short, on rwwallace.com.

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The Red Brick Haze

Tolosa Mysteries, Volume 0

R.W. Wallace

Published by R.W. Wallace, 2016.

One

September 21, 2001

A fragrant, blanketing smell of runny Roquefort and rank goat cheese blew out of the fromagerie’s open door as Louis strolled past, trailing behind his friend Emilie. Louis drew in a deep lungful, enjoying the way the heady mix obscured the stench of exhaust from passing cars. A line of cheese enthusiasts crowded the tiny shop and bled onto the sidewalk, proving that the wares must have tasted as good as they smelled.

He passed into the shadow of a truck unloading goods into a hardware store, and the Saint-Michel Prison came into view. Louis tugged his black-and-white checkered scarf tighter around his neck. The towering building was an architectural beauty—a five-pronged star shape when seen from above and a medieval castle-like entrance, all in red brick to blend in with the other buildings of Toulouse—but it was still a stark reminder of the dark side of humanity. Louis hoped his father would be able to come through on his electoral promise to move the prisoners to a newer and safer facility, releasing the building to be enjoyed by the entire city as a cultural center.

Toulouse had grown incredibly quickly over the last fifty years, and what had originally been a suburb was now a central and very hip neighborhood. What was a decrepit prison doing taking up so much of the sought-after space? Louis’s father had proposed converting it to student housing, but Louis had argued that the students spent enough time locked inside classrooms as it was. They shouldn’t be living in an old prison, no matter how quaint.

Emilie skipped along the wide sidewalk ahead of Louis, twirling into a pirouette to avoid an oncoming bike; as she spun, her cute yellow sundress flared out like a sunflower and the buttons on her back glinted like diamonds in the morning sunlight. With her cherubic face lit up by an enviable inner joy and sky-blue eyes that danced with cheerfulness, she appeared years younger than her actual twenty. Her diminutive height and tendency to skip rather than walk didn’t help in the least. Louis smiled wryly into his scarf at a memory of her, kicking his ass a week earlier when he’d told her she looked sweet.

Are you sure you won’t get in trouble for skipping class? Emilie glanced up at Louis out of the corner of her eye.

As a car honked at a cyclist who was taking up too much of the narrow street, Louis gave an insouciant shrug. Why should I get in trouble? Less than half the class ever shows up to Fluid Mechanics anyway. I can’t take another hour of that never-ending equation. The class should have been named Quantum Mechanics—the teacher had definitely found a way to stop time.

I don’t think it’s just one equation. Emilie didn’t appear fully convinced of her own statement.

Yes, it is. He started that first lesson by lulling us into believing the subject would be interesting, talking about channels and water and stuff. Then he attacked the integrals, and I honestly think that proof is going to take a few months.

Louis glanced back at the looming prison. It mirrored how he felt when he sat in that lecture hall: stuck in a stern and unforgiving place when there were so many better things he could be doing.

We’re better off here, making sure you can go to karate training tonight.

Emilie rolled her sparkling blue eyes at him before jumping over a pothole in the street they were crossing. It’s really nice of you to come with me, Louis, but I’m sure they could have lent me a karategi for the first training session.

They were walking back to campus along a straight, widening axis leading out from the city center. Small specialized shops lined the street, and tables took up most of the sidewalk in front of the cafés. Louis loved the eclectic mix of shops; it perfectly represented his vision of the city of Toulouse.

What kind of black belt shows up to training without gear?

Emilie did another little pirouette and winked at Louis. The kind that worked out just before leaving, and put the gear in the wash out of habit. Cocking her head and smiling with a single dimple, she held up her shopping bag. But now I’m all set. And you’re behind in Fluid Mechanics.

You didn’t need to buy me anything, though. Louis let his hand slide through the folds of his scarf again, enjoying the silky feel of the fabric and the slight pull at the back of his neck.

You looked like a five-year-old at a teddy bear display when you saw it in the shop, Emilie teased. How could I not get it for you?

Spotting a teashop, Louis pulled Emilie with him to the store window. I just need to go in here for a second. I promised Maman I’d buy her tea some time ago, and I haven’t gotten around to it yet. And in case she learned of his skipping class, it would be a good idea to come home with a peace offering. The shop was tiny and cozy, and the fruity and spicy aromas of teas and tisanes of all kinds hit them as they entered. They left the front door cracked open as they walked through, letting the busy noise of passing cars interrupt the calm haven.

"Bonjour, Madame," Louis greeted the