(Welcome once more to the story that builds a post a day.  If you are new to this site, there’s a crime novel in the works.  If you would please click to the left in the Archives section and find the July 16th post, They Had the Right to Remain Silent (1), you can crack the tale open from the beginning.  If you’re ready for the 31st installment, let’s get to it.)
They Had the Right to Remain Silent
Richard S. Jachimecki
Chapter ( xxiii ) continues…
     The Head Coach’s interest in Tony was intense. As the school year and the season commenced, high also was the attraction to Tony from the older coeds. He was shy at first, unaccustomed to all the attention. By junior year, the novelty wore thin, and he also received tutoring from senior teammates who considered girls spoils for the taking and discarding, the more the better. It was a concept that grew deep roots and an attitude Tony still held.
     He senior year brought fanfare and notoriety as the team went undefeated the entire season, winning the New York State Championship for their division in the Syracuse Carrier Dome.
     Tony’s blocking ability was instrumental in the running game, but his catching skills never developed beyond average; an oddity, considering his mechanical dexterity. Several players were recruited for universities, the quarterback would ultimately turn pro after attending ‘The U’ in Miami. But for Tony the offers were few and small, from minor division colleges, and he opted not to pursue them.
     Dominic, practically a second father, pressed for college but finally acquiesced and offered him full- time, and Tony settled for the comfort of the familiar and relived glory days in the neighborhood. He kept up with the exercising, though no longer to the extreme of when he played ball.
     He was egotistic regarding his look, getting GQ the minute it hit the newsstand, but the clothes he desired carried price tags far that far exceeded his means. He joined a local gym then met, by what he thought was chance, another member who approached him about steroids and other recreational drugs. Tony begged off using, but they continued to have conversations and with time the subject of Tony’s limited cash flow was addressed.
     Easy Money. Two words, and Tony was ripe for the picking. His new business associate set him up with contacts and a territory. Tony started small, providing gym- juice to the muscle-heads, but it didn’t take long to realize serious cash demanded ‘expansion of the product line’. He was willing to handle whatever his mentor offered. Business grew exponentially.
     One afternoon, while finishing the tuneup on a BMW 640i, he noticed white residue on the steering wheel’s lower rim, guessing from the driver leaning over to snort a hit. As he handed over the keys, Tony casually made reference to cleaning it off, giving the man a knowing glare.
     “You happy with your supplier’s price?” Tony asked. He had a name and number before the Beemer pulled out onto Canal Street.
     His new customer opened a few doors uptown, and Tony became The Guest, though never formally named on any of the exclusive party lists. His finances flourished, and he never left an affair before hiking some willing skirt for a meaningless bang in the host’s nobby bathroom.
     Faceless skirts, they lusted carnal knowledge of his body superior; craving the physically explosive experience, nonexistent in their blandiose lives. They satisfied his base needs and nurtured his hubris.
     He kept the garage job for cover, though as the years and his off- shore accounts accumulated, he now could buy and sell Dominic ten times over. He missed a day occasionally, but Dominic couldn’t bitch, with all the business Tony was bringing in from his well- heeled friends and their high- end vehicles.
     Today he left Dominic’s early and tonight was pleasure for pleasure’s sake, no business attached. A few drinks, followed by a romp with Vicky in luxurious surroundings. No commitment given or taken.
     He decided to keep his attire casual. The Burberry London leather motocross jacket had a tapered cut and fit snuggly over the Vivienne Westwood striped shirt. His black Calvin Sateen pants hugged his hips and thighs, the hems double- breaking over Magnanni dress boots. Cost, about $1500. Casual? He was slumming it.
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