He continued to watch her as she spoke with their friends but kept a watchful eye on the crowd around her.
She emitted class, the epiphany of a real woman. He found himself questioning ever meeting such a person in his life.
She wore a fitted chocolate camisole that accentuated the curves of her breasts. The matching pendant hung sensually right above the cleavage in a stylish fashion. The short-fitted, beige embroidered skirt accompanied the low cut camisole. When she nervously tucked her shiny ebony hair behind her ear, Michael took notice of the matching smoky brown quartz stud earrings. He swallowed hard, realizing he stared intently, absorbing every detail of Lillian as if she were some goddess. For all he knew, she could be. Fully aware of the attraction he felt and the fact he was gawking, he glanced away.
"Lillian, wait until you meet this Brian Gillson. He is so handsome. Come on.” Aunt Mabel took her niece by the arm, leading her away from the crowd.
Michael watched as a tall stocky man blocked Lillian's path. Michael assumed the man to be Brian Gillson. He refocused on the conversation with his sister and his friends as they made their way toward the food. He focused on the fact he was starving and the food presentation impressed him.
The banquet table didn't contain finger foods, or fancy strange foods associated with cocktail parties or other upscale events. Lillian had ordered baked ziti, lasagna, meatballs, chicken Française, chicken, eggplant Parmesan, eggplant rolletine, the list went on.
"Wow, this is some spread. Where did Lillian order from?” Michael asked, as he piled on the food. It smelled incredible.
"Ordered? No way, not Lillian, she and her aunt made everything, except the appetizers,” Carla told her brother with her hand on her hip, as if she were insulted that Michael thought Lillian had the party catered.
"She must have been cooking for days,” Jimmy added, seemingly just as impressed as Michael.
Carla started telling them about Lillian's numerous talents, the fact that she was a do-it-yourself kind of woman.
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, with their stomachs full, they met Lillian by the front register where she led them to meet Laura Thomas.
The woman was lovely, possibly in her forties with short blonde hair, a freckled face, and a likable personality. Michael felt she was sincere. They all spoke with her for a few moments, received autographed copies of her book, then gave her some alone time to eat and relax before the next event.
Michael noticed one young man who ran around re-lighting the outside porch candles that may have gone out, setting the mood for the presentation.
Another employee made sure the low sounding speakers were working while the guests took every available seat. There was standing room only.
The crowd cheered as Miss Thomas entered, taking a seat, thanking everyone for attending before beginning her presentation.
Everyone listened quietly, intently as she spoke in character, her southern drawl flawlessly impressive. Instantly, those listening had an understanding of the characters, even Michael found himself yearning to learn more. He caught sight of Lillian glancing around the porch patio. She had to be impressed with the turnout and obvious love for Miss Thomas's writing.
Suddenly, their gazes met. She seemed to realize he stared at her, yet she didn't turn away. They smiled at each other simultaneously. Michael watched from across the room as a man approached Lillian, placing his hands on her shoulders.
* * * *
Lillian found herself in a daze, staring across the room at Michael. He smiled when she caught him staring at her. She couldn't help but blush. It was odd. She had never thought she would find such a brut of a man attractive, yet here she was holding his gaze with her own. She felt the hand on her shoulder, caught off guard by Brian Gillson. She abruptly turned toward him.
"She's amazing, Lillian, so are you. I had no idea what you were capable of. This is extremely impressive,” he whispered close to her ear, holding her gaze. Her female instincts identified the flirting tactics. Her instincts proved right as he asked her out for tomorrow night.
"I'm not sure, Brian. I have a lot going on right now. Maybe I can get a rain check?” She smiled, being sure to whisper.
He took her hand and kissed the top of it.
"I'll hold you to that rain check. I'll have my secretary call you, check your schedule for next week to confirm a date.” He looked at her confidently. She smiled, then listened to Miss Thomas.
When she looked to where Michael had been standing, he was no longer there.
The disappointment she felt surprised her.
* * * *
Thirty minutes later, Michael filled his plate with delicious desserts. He thought about his ridiculous reaction to Lillian on the porch, during Miss Thomas's reading. Across the room, Michael stood watching Lillian Baxter, noting at the time the sight of her made his insides feel strange, different but good. Why he had never noticed her before or tried to get to know her better, he will never know. He assumed it wasn't the right time or the right place. He walked around the bookstore, felt himself drawn into the ambience. Lillian succeeded in creating an alluring atmosphere. He found himself seeking her out.
He wasn't the only one, either. He noticed a young man watching Lillian, as well. He looked younger than her, probably just had a little crush. It annoyed Michael to think he actually felt jealous, like he had met her first, he had dibs or something. He laughed, then recalled the crowd on the porch interfering in his pursuit of Lillian. All he could do was watch that Gillian guy make the move from across the room.
The guy took advantage of the silence, being sure to whisper close to Lillian's ear, placing a hand on her shoulder, smiling at her, his eyes telling her what he really wanted.
Her body. What a body she had. Hell, he had the same thoughts but laid low, waited for the right moment, the right opportunity. The guy probably asked her out. She probably accepted the invitation. The man was suave, dressed nicely, acted like he had money, and women liked that.
Michael couldn't take it any longer. He looked away, waited for the break in the crowd and his chance to leave the room.
Now, here he was munching on delicious goodies Lillian probably made herself and with inappropriate thoughts of Miss Baxter surfacing in his mind—whip cream, long ebony hair flowing around them as they lay naked in his bed.
He shook his head at the sudden sexual fantasy. He needed to leave. Lillian was his sister's best friend. Before he did something he would surely regret, he placed his empty dish down on the table and headed toward the exit
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 3
Bergen County Police Department
"Hey, Jackson, I'm trying to find out anything I can about these victims, including their past? There has to be something we're missing,” Detective Troy Miller stated.
"Let's keep at it, there has to be a connection, a clue of some kind. First thing tomorrow, we'll go visit each victim's family, then the two friends. Maybe there's someone who knows something,” Detective Willy Jacks responded as he closed up his computer. He gathered his belongings, preparing to leave for the day.
Willy stood up from the cramped cubicle, and stretched his legs. He could sense Troy's stare upon him. Something lingered on his partner's mind.
"What's the look for?” Willy asked as Troy leaned against the wall near the fingerprint lab room.
"There's Allison Loyd's grandmother. I can't get her out of my mind. She knows something or has her own suspicions, but she's scared.” Troy let out a sigh.
"Scared, like she's afraid for her life?” Willy asked.
"I don't think so. I think she's a really nice old lady who has her own suspicions, but couldn't and wouldn't want to hurt a fly. It may take some time, but I think I'll pay her a visit tomorrow. What do you say?” Troy asked.
"Sounds like you'll be sipping tea, and munching on cookies tomorrow."
Troy laughed.
They grabbed their stuff be
fore heading down the hallway. They were in front of the commander's office.
"Troy, Willy, how's the Loyd investigation going?” Hal asked the two investigators.
Both men entered their commander's office to update him on the case.
"Sounds like a good idea visiting the grandmother. I think you have a point about the grandmother possibly knowing more, Troy. It may take some extra time and a bit of idle talk, but who knows where it may lead.
As you guys know, detective work isn't always about plain view evidence, a gut instinct can go a long way. Let me know how it goes. Have a good night,” Hal stated.
The men said goodnight before leaving.
They walked out of the secured area, punching in their pass codes to the front entrance of the building. Before exiting the building to the parking lot, they waved goodnight to Patrol Officer Mary York while she remained on duty at the dispatch center.
The sun had already set as they walked to their personal cars. The warm, pleasant air was inviting after sitting in the stuffy office most of the day, but soon, the humidity would come along with the summer heat.
Willy had an uneasy feeling inside. The recent homicide they were investigating was gruesome and showed similar characteristics from a previous crime scene from four months ago. Whether the murders were connected or not, either way, they needed to figure out who could be responsible.
"You're supposed to be my partner, man. Come sip tea with me. You never know, Willy, you may pick up on something that I may not. I need you ... come on?” Troy asked.
Willy released a long sigh, then stuck his hands in his pockets.
"You owe me, do you know that?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. But, I really think there's something there. She's scared, Willy."
"Than let's do our job, make her feel safe, possibly get a lead."
Willy walked toward his car, then called to Troy.
"Did I tell you how much I hate tea?"
Troy laughed.
* * * *
Lillian's Love stayed opened until seven in the evening on Monday through Saturday. Lillian closed the store on Sundays. She looked forward to a hot bath and some down time after the record breaking premiere Friday night. There were articles in various local papers, magazines in the town, the county paper, and the phone constantly rang. The store remained packed all day on Saturday, and Lillian hoped for the same outcome for next week. It wasn't easy running an independent bookstore, yet the town of Stony Point and the people in the surrounding communities welcomed the presence of Lillian's Love.
Miss Thomas had called to say thank you, swore to have every premiere for her future books held at Lillian's Love.
Lillian relaxed in the bubble bath, sipped some red wine, listening to the relaxing sounds of Luciano Pavarotti. Before preparing for bed, she sat down at her desk writing a few notes in her journal. She had decided she wasn't in need of the journal anymore. It served its purpose, helped in the healing process, putting the past behind her.
By nine thirty in the evening, Lillian lay in bed, sound asleep.
* * * *
Michael strutted down the street, fully playing his role as gang banger, drug dealer, and just plain tough guy. He walked as if he were ‘king shit’ and knew it. It was more of a defense mechanism and attempt to calm his nerves. Undercover gigs, when the heat was up, could go bad in a flash. He had his reservations about this meeting, but he had an image to keep both undercover and to his fellow cops. He feared nothing, a reputation that could sometimes make him do things he wasn't proud of. Tonight was no different.
Working undercover, prepared to meet a ‘perp’ named Raymond, who wanted to cut a deal, Michael made his way to the meeting location. Raymond wanted to go partners with Michael after hearing Sanchez got busted and would do time in prison.
Michael suspected Raymond had ulterior motives, and immediately ordered backup around the meeting location to secure their safety. Jimmy had his back, as he hung out outside the apartment complex pretending to be some homeless drunk.
Michael ignored him as he passed by gazing at Raymond who stood out front.
Raymond had a bad reputation, a big guy around two hundred and fifty pounds, standing way over six feet tall. Michael's head barely reached Raymond's chin, as they met.
"You the one they call Switch?” Raymond asked in a nasty tone with his hands in his coat pockets. It was not exactly weather appropriate, considering tonight was another freak eighty-degree night. Michael didn't trust the guy.
"Yeah, so what's this deal about? Who are you?” Michael asked playing the role as big shot.
"I heard you were there when Sanchez got busted. How come you ain't in jail, too?” Raymond wasn't focusing his eyes completely on Michael. He seemed to look around as if he were waiting for someone else to arrive. Michael's suspicion grew.
"I got a good lawyer,” Michael stated sarcastically.
Raymond just stared at him.
Michael's bad feeling just got worse.
"You had a miracle. No one messes with Sanchez or lives to talk about it."
"I didn't mess with him. He nearly got me busted. I fucking just pretended I was some drug addict looking for a fix. It worked, end of story. So if this is a bullshit session, I'm gone. If you want to talk business, let's do it."
Michael knew Jimmy and the other undercover officers were listening to the conversation. He glanced around. He was edgy, and he hoped his backup noticed it.
In a flash, Michael could hear a car pulling up in the distance and looked in its direction too late. The sound of gunshots filled the air. He immediately recognized the distinct sound of bullets let loose by an Uzi. Raymond went for his gun. Michael did the same.
"Don't do.... “Michael didn't finish his sentence, instinct kicked in as he pulled the trigger.
Straight through the heart, Raymond hit the ground.
Bullets were flying from everywhere. Michael felt the bullet penetrate through his arm. He fell to one knee aimed at the car, and fired, taking out the driver, then three others.
He heard Jimmy yell, “Michael, move!"
It was too late as he felt the intense blow to the back of his head. That's the last thing he remembered.
* * * *
The ringing phone disrupted Lillian's sleep. She glanced at the clock, the glowing numbers, one then two zeroes, stared back at her. She knew instantly something was wrong. She spoke to Carla so quickly, the words were repeating in her head. “Michael's been shot."
Fear filled Lillian. Remaining calm, she told her friend she'd meet her at the hospital immediately. She hung up the phone.
Lillian ran through the emergency room twenty minutes after hanging up the phone with Carla. She had to dodge numerous reporters and camera crews.
"Miss, are you here to see the cop that got shot?” one reporter yelled while another nearly cornered her into the wall.
"Are you his girlfriend? Wife? Relative?” the other one asked in a demanding tone.
She lied, told them she wasn't there to see the cop and that she had no idea what they were talking about. She pushed her way through the crowd, then into the main hallway before the emergency room. She was in a complete panicked state as she shoved through the double doors.
The place swarmed with cops, Michael's family, and others. Lillian knew Carla's Mom, aunt and uncle. Immediately, Carla went to Lillian, and they embraced.
"Oh, thank God you got through that mess. What a freaking mad house. Are you all right?” Jimmy stated.
"I'm fine. What happened, Carla?” Lillian asked as her friend began to cry again.
Carla was a beautiful woman, tall around five foot seven with long brown hair and brown eyes. She and Michael looked a lot alike. Carla always appeared strong, confident. Which had a lot to do with her height. She was fragile inside and her biggest fear had become a reality tonight. Her brother, whom she loved dearly, lay in an emergency room.
Lillian immediately submerged her emotions. Her be
st friend needed her
Jimmy came over next with Tom, then Uncle Phillip.
Everyone towered over Lillian. Petite at five foot three, most people did.
"There was a set up. They came after Michael. He got shot. Someone knocked him over the head with a metal bar of some kind. Jimmy watched the whole thing happen,” Carla said as she started to cry all over again. This time, Jimmy held her while he told Lillian the story.
Lillian listened, amazed at Michael's bravery. She had never known anyone who survived a shootout or drive by shooting. Apparently, Michael took down four bad guys on his own before the assault from behind.
Jimmy shot the guy who hit Michael over the head with the pipe.
Suddenly, Lillian focused her attention on the higher-ups entering the hallway. They called Jimmy over. He exchanged words with them, left with the captain, and some other brass. There was a lot to do. There was the media frenzy to deal with outside of the main entrance to the hospital. There were reporters sneaking in, trying to get a statement from the family, concerned police officers arriving every few minutes. It was total chaos.
Uncle Phillip, a detective sergeant in the local Stony Point Police Department, filled Lillian in on Michael's condition.
He hadn't regained consciousness yet. The doctors were concerned about swelling or internal bleeding in his brain. They were sending him for Cat Scans, MRIs, and other exams. Luckily, the bullet hit him in the arm, exited straight through to the other side, leaving little damage.
Lillian prayed with Carla, Carla's mother, and Aunt Mabel while they waited for word on Michael's condition.
An hour later, more officers arrived bringing coffee, snacks, and words of encouragement along with them.
* * * *
"Everything will be all right. You'll see, Carla. Michael is as tough as they come,” Lillian told her best friend as she handed her a cup of hot coffee.
"I'm so scared, Lillian. My brother always takes these crazy chances. Didn't you hear what he did? He stood there shooting at a car while its occupants shot an Uzi at him.... An Uzi!” Carla covered her face with her hands.
Lillian's Love Page 3
