3

Michael gazed down at his screen. The smaller man steadied himself on the aquarium shelves with his right hand. As he watched, the man’s face slowly returned to its normal color. It had been five minutes since the man had spoken out loud, and Michael was certain he was about to make his move. Whatever that was.

Michael had no weapon. Not because he had anything against them, but because he simply didn’t think he needed one. However, he suddenly wished he had a gun within reach as he saw the man approach the counter.

As he rounded the corner, Michael saw that he wore that same forced smile.

“Mr. Ridding,” the man began as he came up to the desk and extended a hand. “My name is Benedict, and if you don’t mind, I would like to take a moment of your time to talk about a business proposal.”

How did this strange man know his name? Was he some old contact, maybe a sales representative from one of the various companies he stocked? Maybe they had met at a trade show? It was possible, but then again, this was someone Michael knew he would have remembered.

Even so, he sounded as awkward as a young kid reading in front of a class. The presentation was obviously rehearsed, but there was genuine passion in the forced words. Whatever this guy wanted to talk over, he was serious, but also unsure of how to handle the situation. Michael considered the request. If it was a legitimate proposal, he was willing to hear it, but why present him with this now when the store was about to close?

Finally given a better chance to look the man over, Michael reconsidered his earlier assessment. It was obvious that Benedict wasn’t a drug addict or some other undesirable.

To start with, he smelled good. He wore a copious amount of Oxford Bleu cologne, the distinct scent crossing the distance between them with ease. His well-tailored coat was nicely set and freshly cleaned—not a hair clung to it.

It was like Michael was talking to a completely different man than the one who had walked in.

Michael grasped the outstretched hand while glancing at his wristwatch. It was just after twelve-thirty. “Well, I was about to close for lunch, so I guess we can talk in the break room, if you like.”

Benedict made little attempt to contain his joy.

Michael flipped the “Closed” sign, not bothering to lock the door, and showed Benedict to the small employee lunch area. The room consisted of a microwave atop a mini-fridge and a round folding table with two matching chairs. Michael let Benedict have a seat first, then walked to the refrigerator.

“You want anything? We have burritos, soup?”

“No thanks, I ate on the plane,” Benedict said, then quickly grew quiet, as if he’d been silently reprimanded.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind if I have something. It’ll be my first meal all day.” Or perhaps his only meal, but he didn’t tell Benedict that. If this man was here to discuss business, it wasn’t in his best interest to imply that he barely had enough money for one microwaved meal a day. “So, you just flew in?”

“Yeah, my plane came in just a couple hours ago. I had a layover and thought I would stop in town,” Benedict said as Michael put his food in the microwave.

“Well, feel free to let me know if I’m keeping you,” Michael said.

“Oh, they won’t leave without me,” Benedict said uncomfortably, as if he wasn’t sure if he should be saying anything at all.

“Wish airlines would do that for me,” Michael remarked. He hadn’t flown in a long time. Even then, it had been for business, and he found none of the sparse trips to trade shows enjoyable.

“Well, they have to, since it’s my plane,” Benedict said with a hint of resistance.

Michael looked back, his eyes bulging. “You have your own plane?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it mine. It’s the company’s private jet, but I have priority,” Benedict replied.

Michael fought to keep his jaw from dropping. Benedict’s claim of having a private jet left him surprised, yet troubled. It seemed impossible that any company with the resources to maintain such an asset would be interested in his small shop.

The microwave went off and Michael retrieved his meal.

“All right,” he said, cautiously walking to the table and sitting across from Benedict. “You have my attention.”

Want to read Chapter 4 but can’t wait?
Michael Ridding: A DenCom Thriller is already out on Kindle!
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INSIGHTS!

Chapters 3 and 4 were originally combined, but during the early stages of the editing process, I ended up breaking them apart like I did many chapters of the novel. At one point, Michael Ridding only consisted of 20 or 25 chapters that were broken up for the sake of keeping a fast pace, which I still think works and made the initial writing process of DenCom 2 more enjoyable.

At one point, if I recall correctly, there was a scene where we see the killers (referenced in the first chapter) interact and adjust their plan, as well as hint at how it will eventually go wrong (I swear that’s not a spoiler. If their plan succeeded, we wouldn’t have nearly 57 more chapters of fun!). This was cut because the editor and I thought it would be a better idea to keep what was happening purely in Michael’s head for the duration of the flashback so it doesn’t confuse readers.

Anyway, that’s what I’ve got for now! See you next week with another blog post!

-S.T. Hoover

What am I listening to?

i by The Magnetic Fields

At the time of this writing, I’m listening to this album several times a week as I write my first Kaiju novel. Odds are, I’ll probably have moved on to DenCom 2 edits by the time this gets posted, so I can’t promise that I’m listening to it right now at this very moment. But I have a feeling it will filter into my DenCom 2 playlist, especially for the… well, let’s just say confusing moments that may or may not be written out.

Yeah… just… take anything I say about DenCom 2 right now with a grain of salt, K?

Anyway, I wanted to give them a shot but wasn’t ready to dive into 69 Love Songs or 50-Song Memoir, and this was the only other CD they had at the local record store at the time. I don’t know if this is regarded as one of their better albums or not, but I have to say I’m impressed. Stephin Merritt has a rather distinct voice that carries the often emotional lyrics with absolute precision. It’s well worth the listen if you have the chance.