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 259: The agent Morris signaled led him out to the undisturbed outer office.
The agent Morris signaled led him out to the undisturbed outer office. James was settled in a desk chair and someone began fiddling with the top of his head. The astringency of rubbing alcohol was strong and the agent’s ministrations stung like a swarm of bees. James distracted himself by looking around.
The office looked different than when he arrived. It was brighter he realized. The shades were open and the lights turned on, but James noticed there were things that seemed shifted about, different from his arrival.
He remembered the glittering eyes he thought he imagined in the shadows. The ones that disappeared when he looked a second time. He thought about the other agents who mysteriously appeared in Morris’s office when both he and Tucker thought the office was empty.
‘I suppose they had to come from somewhere,’ He thought. The agent finished fiddling with his head. And stepped back. He said something about monitoring his headache and James nodded, more interested in watching a couple of the agents leading Tucker out of the office than in listening to medical advice.
Morris stepped out of his office. He was moving slow and clearly still recovering from his injury. His eyes scanned the room, settled on James and walked over. The other agent stepped back as Morris approached.
“This was a set up,” James said.
Morris nodded. “It was. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”
James nodded. The kaleidoscope of his thoughts solidified until one solid image remained, stable and fixed. “My entry into the program,” James began. “Was I ever going to testify against the shooter?”
“No,” Morris admitted. “You might have borne witness to the shooting as part of the larger picture, but we needed to get you into a safe place where you could go through the files.”
“And you needed to separate me from my family so that I had no vested interest in protecting them or the company,” James guessed.
Morris sighed. “That was part of the rationale. We didn’t arrange the shooting.”
“You just took advantage of it,” James said.
“Our investigation had already cleared you of involvement.”
James wondered if that was supposed to make him feel better. “Faith?” he asked instead.
“She and her second husband were arrested before they could leave the country. Although we let others believe they were still on their honeymoon.”
James nodded. He felt used and rather abused at the moment. He also wasn’t certain how he should respond. “Carson?” He asked instead of turning his thoughts inward.
“He was a good agent,” Morris said. He looked as tired as James felt. “You should have been safe with him.”
“So when I called the other day?” James prompted when Morris seemed inclined to sink into his own thoughts.
“We already suspected Tucker and thought that now might be a good time to draw him out since he was pressuring you. He had no other possible avenues for finding Cassie. You couldn’t help him, but he was running out of options.
James snorted in amusement. “About that,” he began. “I suppose I have a confession to make as well.”
Ten til Midnight 