(If this is the first time you’ve dropped in, you’ll want to click back to They Had the Right to Remain Silent (1), which is the launchpad of the novel you have entered.  Welcome, put a bag of popcorn in the microwave, find a comfy spot, and enjoy the build-up for two NYC Detectives, as they take the ride of their lives.  Sincerest Thank You’s out to those who have left ‘likes’ and are following.  I’m here to entertain for a few minutes out of your day, committed to making an entry every day of the week.  Please let me know what you think.
p.s. – in one of the first posts of this blog in early July, I mentioned I enjoyed drawing…my first rendering should be showing up by the end of the week, the weekend tops.  I see coffee-filled nights in my near future.)   Shall we?
They Had the Right to Remain Silent
Richard S. Jachimecki
Chapter ( vi ) continues…
     Trent dropped the phone and mail on the black granite kitchen countertop, took a knife from the drawer and got an orange out of the fridge, then sliced the fruit into quarters. He sat down on a stool, then separated an orange chunk’s meat from its rind in one bite, turned on the TV to check the weather’ and the traffic flow out of Manhattan toward the stadium.
     The gold lettering piqued his interest, and he picked up the envelope and knife from the countertop, then cut across the envelope’s seal. Juice and pulp from the knife seeped into the parchment.
     “Shit,” he moaned, and dabbed the drippings off with a sheet of paper towel he yanked off a roll that hung on the wall.
     He pulled out two cards and a smaller envelope from inside. On the top of the first card, a logo of the Colonial Mascot stood at attention, weapon at his side.
     Below this, Trent read:
You are Cordially Invited to a Reunion of Your Billings High School Class
A Year of Excellence
Saturday, October 14th, 8 PM
To be held in the Dulcinea Room
The Bradley Hotel, Avenue of the Americas, NYC
Banquet, Your Accommodations for the Night, and Sunday Brunch
RSVP, Enclosed Card, by September 10th
     “September 10th?” he said.
     He took out the scribbled note from his jacket pocket, What’d ya hold onto this for a month or two? he thought, no wonder you didn’t sign it! He opened the cabinet door under the sink, then tossed the note into the trash can, located on the cabinet’s base, below the sink garbage disposal.
     Trent pulled out his calendar for the New York Stallions season. It’s a Bye week, no Sunday game. Saturday will be an off- night from practice. Film session on Monday. I can make it. Sounds like a good time.
     He noticed there was no ‘donation’ amount on any of the correspondence.
     “Wonder who’s footing this bill?” he said out loud, as he saw that the stamped return envelope was addressed to a Manhattan P.O. Box.
     I’m sure they’ll accommodate, he reasoned, if mine doesn’t make it quite on time. He took a pen from the countertop, filled in the RSVP, then shoved it into the return envelope and sealed it.
     The phone started to ring on the countertop.
     Trent answered, “Yeah Adam, I’m on the way out. Your percentage is safe and secure…
     “No, I’m just breaking your stones…
     “I’ll see you in 45.”
     Trent dropped the response envelope into the Outgoing Mail box, that was located next to the security guard’s counter, as he headed out of the lobby.

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