They Had the Right to Remain Silent (7)

Posted: July 22, 2012 in cops, crime novel, detective stories, mystery novel, novels, police procedurals, suspense novel, Uncategorized
(Thanks for dropping in, however, if this is your first visit, there is a story going on…please click back to They Had the Right to remain Silent (1), where this ‘working novel’ begins.  The posts before that give a little explanation to this blog’s intent, which is to entertain on a daily basis.  Welcome and Enjoy my friends.)
They Had the Right to Remain Silent
Richard S. Jachimecki
Chapter ( v)
     NORA PULLED OUT THE MEMBERSHIP CARD from her sweat- pants back pocket and slid the plastic ID through the turnstile’s scanner slot. The card’s magnetic strip faced down, as she had been shown the day before. A green light flashed on the scanner.
     She raised her arms, lifting her gym bag above the turnstile bars, and wriggled her way between the stanchions – a tight squeeze on her hips – then gave a forward push with her pelvis, to get the mechanism revolving; nearly getting caught in- between the bar she was pushing in front with the bar that was rising behind her and pressing into her backside.
     She went to the front desk. The young man she had first approached about membership was behind the counter again, finishing up a T- shirt sale, but Nora knew he had observed her difficulty getting in.
     Nora’s face flushed embarrassment, “that’s a workout in itself,” she said, and pointed back at the turnstile; humor was one of her defense mechanisms regarding her weight.
     “You ready to get started?” he said, giving her a broad smile.
     “Can’t wait,” she said.
     “Let me get someone to set you up with a program,” he said, “you can put your stuff in the locker room, and I’ll get a trainer.”
     “Not Thurman?”
     “He’s out right now, but he’ll be back soon.”
     Nora weaved her way through the gym. It was five- thirty, the rays of afternoon sun beamed across the front windows. CONDITION U was packed. Bodies ran, pumped, and cycled, all to the music’s furioso beat, that vibrated into Nora’s chest. She heard the whirring of stationary bikes and treadmills, the clank of weights being dropped to the floor – their echoes were in sync with the rhythms overhead.
     Though every soul in the crowd was exposed to the scrutiny of their counterparts in the gym, the individuals seemed engrossed in their own little worlds of exercise, most wore headsets or earbuds connected to personal music players or the consoles of aerobic machines, and watched the TV monitors. Nora felt her self- consciousness lessen.
     She found an empty locker in the far corner of the women’s changing room, opened her bag and took out a towel, an MP3 player, a clear plastic water- bottle, and a combination padlock. She shoved the gym bag into the locker, swung the door closed, then snapped the U- bolt of the padlock through the now- aligned holes of the metal tabs that protruded from the locker’s door and frame, to secure its contents. She filled the bottle with water from a cooler located near the exit.
     Nora met the man from the counter, who now stood at the hallway entry. He was with a blond pony- tailed woman, Nora guessed about twenty, or twenty- one years of age. The woman’s chest stretched the UCon letters on her T- shirt to the point of distortion. Nora pressed her own bulky black- rimmed glasses to the bridge of her nose, to get a better look at the Aphrodite who stood before her.
     “Nora, this is Sparkle,” the young man said.

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