The Fifteen Minute Novel is a novel written fifteen minutes at a time with each week day’s section starting with the sentence from the previous day. At least it is attempting to be a novel. For now I am just aiming at one continuous story, worked on for fifteen minutes each day. Started Friday January 1st, 2021 (in case you want to search for the beginning. I can’t wait to see where it ends up. It could be good, or it could be a mess. We’ll have to see. For now, here is today’s fifteen minutes.
Day 98: “Cream and sugar are in one of the bags,” Tucker said.
“Cream and sugar are in one of the bags,” Tucker said.
James nodded and rummaged around until he came up with a handful of creamers and enough sugar packets to fill at least one of the coffee cups to the brim. He dumped a handful of both on the table, and took one creamer and one sugar for himself. He pried the lid off of his cup, added the creamer and sugar, stirred and put the lid back on. He then turned his attention to the sandwich. After three bites he no longer felt ravenous and reached to take a sip of the coffee.
Tucker ate his own breakfast but watched James closely. James tried not to feel the weight of scrutiny.
“How is Agent Morris doing?” James asked. He didn’t might being watched, but there was something measuring about Tucker as though he was trying to make a decision about him. As James didn’t know what decision Tucker would need to make about him, it made him a little nervous.
“He was doing fine when I checked on him. His vitals were good but I left him to sleep. He needed it.”
James nodded. He didn’t know what else to say. Casual conversation about gunshot victims was not in his comfort zone. He finished his chicken biscuit and reached into the bag again. This time ha came out with hash browns in paper sleeves. He took a bite, crunching the potato between his teeth. It was starting to cool enough to be slightly soggy and he could taste the grease along with the salted potato. After two bites he set it down and reached for another biscuit. It was egg and sausage and James decided it would suit. He unwrapped it.
“So do we just hang around until he is awake?” James asked. He wasn’t certain what the procedure was.
“No,” Tucker told him. “We take you back to your apartment.”
“Because it is safe?” James asked. Morris’ thoughts on the attack floated through his mind.
Tucker stared at him, face blank but eyes thoughtful for a moment. “I watched the footage,” he said.
James took a bite of his biscuit to give him time to think. Tucker’s words weren’t terribly thought provoking but the way he said them made James feel that he was missing part of the picture.
“Footage?” he asked when he finished his bite.
“From the building. The hitter wasn’t a pro, or at least not an experienced one. We got a plate from the garage.”
“So you know who it is?” James asked. He felt some of the weighty fear living behind his breastbone lift slightly. “You caught him?”
“No he was fished out of the river a few hours ago. He was meant to be disposable.”
“And what does that mean?” James asked.
“It means someone hired him to kill and then when the job was done killed them,” Tucker replied.
“I did get that from the disposable part,” James replied. “I meant in terms of me. Selfishly I want to know if someone is going to try to kill me at my apartment.”
“It is doubtful,” Tucker said. “I checked out your place. It wasn’t ransacked.”
“You went to my apartment?”
Ten til Midnight 