It’s November. For writers, that means National Novel Writing Month. This is my 14th year. I’ve finished my 50k words 13 times, and all but a couple of those books have been published. And considering the pit of writer’s lethargy I’ve been wallowing in for the past year, I’m finally getting new words. In honor of NaNoWriMo, the #1lineWed theme for today is **WRITE/WRITER**. While this scene isn’t part of my NaNo project, I’ll take ideas and words however they come. This one belongs to my future Moonstruck Mafia series. Set in Chicago, it’s the Italians turn. As I only have two scenes written, you’ll just have to piece things together. Hell, I don’t even know this character’s first name yet. Still, I hope you enjoy.
This was my office. I would not accede power to the cops standing on the other side of my desk. They peered down at me as I lounged in my leather chair, thinking they could intimidate me. They could think again.
“I’m a busy man, detective. What is so urgent that you and your…comrades bullied your way past my secretary?”
The uniformed cop cleared his throat but the chief detective in the middle silenced him with a look as he stated, “You’re a hard man to track down, Giordano.”
Spreading my hands, I indicated that I could be found exactly where they’d found me. “I am a businessman, detective. All it takes is a phone call to make an appointment.”
“What about him?”
“He’s missing. Know where is he?”
“I do not.” I didn’t, not that I wouldn’t lie to the cops if I did.
“You threatened him. Why?”
I knew they’d come calling sooner or later. Rizzo was a well-known figure in Chicago and his disappearance would not go unnoticed. “He assaulted a young man under my protection. I explained why he should keep his hands to himself.”
“There wasn’t a police report.”
“The incident occurred in my night club, detective. My security personnel handled the situation and brought Mr. Rizzo to me.”
“Yes. I explained things, then Mr. Rizzo left the building on his own two feet.”
“You have security tapes?”
“Do you not trust me?” I smiled, punching in a code on my computer. “It will take a few minutes for my security team to locate and compile the video. Would you like coffee?” I smiled at the uniformed officer. He was known to be a drunk and a bully. His wife, unfortunately, was very…clumsy. I didn’t like bullies. Waving toward the bar on the far side of the room—replete with silver carafes of coffee and cut-glass decanters containing the very best liquors, I offered, ‘Help yourselves.”
I then proceeded to ignore them. Hollis proceeded directly to the vodka. He didn’t bother with ice, simply splashing some in a gold-rimmed highball glass. Since that rim was 14 carat gold, I’d have to count my glassware.
While I waited, I let my thoughts drift to the sexy redhead who had melted into my arms only two nights ago, dancing in the moonlight. Regina Jackson was a woman who believed in romance—a surprise given her profession. She was an investigative reporter. She chased the big, dirty stories and wrote them up with serious talent. I knew who she was. Too bad I was one of the big, dirty stories she was on the trail of.
My computer beeped. I clicked a few keys and pointed to the big screen on my wall. “You’ll see the security feed there.” When the cops were focused, I hit the enter button. The scene played out. Rizzo, obviously unhappy stormed through the building’s front entrance, flanked by two of the bouncers at my club. The camera switched to the interior of the elevator car that connected directly to the top floor—and my offices. The next shot revealed them all exiting the elevator, crossing the reception area, and then the hallway to my office. There as a break in the tape.
The detective glanced back, about to bark a question. I cut him off. “I don’t have cameras in my office. Please continue watching.”
The door to my office opened, Rizzo, none the worse for the wear, stalked out, still flanked by my guys. The tape showed the reverse of the scumbag’s entrance, and his exit from my building, sans my bouncers. They stayed in the lobby. I couldn’t have scripted the scenario any better.
“That was the last time I saw him.”
Alive, anyway. No one hurt what was mine.
So there it is. My writerly that with the dancing in the moonlight scene got me a little over 1600 words. Not my greatest NaNo count but I’m over 10K and this is Day 6 so I’m happy! Authors, share some writerly words with us. Readers, what would you write if you were taking part in NaNo?