* * * *
Michael didn't hide his relief, the jealous emotion. The idea of Lillian being with other men upset him. He knew he had no right to judge her. Look at all the meaningless one-night stands he had. How could he ask Lillian such a question? He'd never once asked that kind of information from a woman. Then again, there hadn't been any women he cared to know more about ... until now.
Michael kissed Lillian softly on her belly, continuing a pathway to her lips.
He could feel Lillian's touch, every sensation, as she rubbed her fingers through his hair. The goose bumps emerged instantly starting at his scalp, trailing down his neck to his back. His arousal lay hard against her. Maneuvering his body, rolling on top of Lillian, he began nuzzling his mouth against her neck.
"You smell so good. Your skin is so soft.... God, you're beautiful, Lilly,” he whispered against her ear.
Lillian pulled his body closer against hers.
He embraced her. Their eyes closed as if absorbing the moment.
* * * *
"What should we do?” Michael whispered. Lillian opened her eyes staring and smiling at Michael. The silence between them only lasted a moment.
Lillian exhaled as the nervous feeling crept into her insides. She knew what Michael was doing. He wanted to know that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
"Make love to me again, Michael."
He crushed his lips against hers, kissing her fervently. Michael maneuvered his hips as Lillian wrapped her legs around his waist. An instant later, they united as one.
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Chapter 8
His heart beat rapidly, his mouth felt dry, pasty, and he needed to calm down, just calm down. Just because Lillian wasn't in the bookstore and the detective's SUV remained parked across the street for hours, it didn't mean they were together. Together! The fury was enormous. He did everything he could to not lash out or bang his hand on the table in front of him. He needed to calm himself down. This wasn't the time or the place to lose it. He succeeded in convincing himself for now, but he needed to keep a better eye on his prize. The plan began to develop in his mind. It would be easy to watch her every move. He could do so from a safe distance. Perhaps from his most sacred location. The smile formed on his lips.
His phone rang. He spoke with the young woman on the other end.
"Yes, I'll be there tonight. I told you I would, my love. Remember, I will be a little late after work."
"I miss you, though. I love the negligee,” Carrie told him.
He imagined her wearing the white, silky fabric. None of her other lovers had ever given her anything like this. Especially nothing in white. It signified purity just like the words he wrote in the card. She was in love with him and he had something special planned for tonight.
"I'm glad you like it, darling, I can't wait to see you in it. I'll see you soon,” he told Carrie before hanging up the phone.
He walked back into the bookstore, took his seat in the main room where a book discussion had already begun. The young blonde, Carrie, did little for him. He hoped to see his Lillian once again. His heart filled with rage. Could she be with Michael? No way! he told himself repeatedly until he couldn't stand it any longer.
He knew it was risky, but he needed to know. He silently rose from his chair. No one seemed to notice. They were all too caught up in the discussion. He snuck through the hallway, careful that no one took notice. He knew where her office was and checked there first. She wasn't there. He then headed upstairs. She lived in the apartment at the end of the long hallway, to the right of a small, private sitting room. It had two double windows in the back, an old fire escape that led to the backyard. He knew every room, every closet, and private area, except Lillian's apartment. That was the next step on his list, but not tonight. He stared at the door that led into her apartment. She had to be in there.
He looked around him. His heart pumped harder, faster, and he wanted to get inside, take a look at her belongings, her treasures. But the cop could be in there. His blood began to feel as if it were boiling. He laid his ear against the door, overcome by the silence, except for his rapid breathing. He heard voices and needed to escape before he got caught.
Quickly, he snuck into the side room, walking behind the bookshelves. There was no other exit. He should have sprinted for the staircase. Then he saw the window.
* * * *
"We could order in. We wouldn't even have to get dressed?” Michael teased as he watched Lillian fix her hair. Her skin, a natural olive color was now deeper after tanning in the sun. The summer had just begun and he could only imagine what Lillian would look like in mid summer. He instantly thought of some native goddess, stunning. He traced his finger along the light tan lines. They were thin, leaving him with only his imagination of what kind of bikini she wore.
"I told you we would still have to get dressed to go downstairs to meet the delivery person by the back door. There's a book discussion tonight. I don't think it's appropriate for the owner to be ordering pizza."
"Well, I guess that Tony's Pizzeria pub is our destination. You know we'll probably see a bunch of people we know there. Are you ready for this?” he asked as he turned Lillian toward him.
"No, I'm not ready for any of this. I feel like I'm on a roller coaster. This is happening so fast, Michael."
"You're not happy?” Michael asked as he held Lillian's chin in his hand. He gazed down into her eyes. Could she sense the hurt she caused?
She covered his hand with hers. “I've never been more happy in my entire life. There's no denying what we shared tonight, Michael. As crazy as this all is, as fast as it's going, I don't want to stop feeling this way. I guess I'm a little scared, that's all."
"I don't want to stop feeling this way, either. As long as we're honest with each other, it should work out fine.” He leaned down to kiss her softly. Lillian wrapped her arms around Michael's neck. The kissing increased until she put her hands against Michael's chest to stop him.
"We'll never get out of here if you keep kissing me like that. Come on!” she scolded, then continued to get dressed. Michael sighed behind her, pulling on his slacks, then dress shirt.
They walked out of her apartment. Lillian paused to lock the door. Michael stopped her from continuing down the hallway. He pulled her against the door, placing his lips over hers. Before releasing her, he squeezed her backside.
"I can't keep my hands off of you,” he whispered. She smiled wide, looking up into his eyes.
Interrupting the moment, they suddenly heard something in the sitting room next door. Michael went to see what it could be. Lillian followed close behind him. The room appeared empty, but Michael walked through the two isles before he called to Lillian from behind a shelf of books.
She met him toward the back of the room.
"Do you always keep this window opened?” he asked.
"No, I never open it. As a matter of fact, I never could open it. I thought it was painted shut."
Michael looked out the window, down the fire escape. He didn't see anything because of the poorly lit side yard. He closed the window, locked the top lock, then rechecked it.
"It's locked now, but you should be more careful, Lillian. Anyone could sneak in here at night."
"The alarm wouldn't set if that window were open,” she replied.
"There's no sensor on the window? You said you could never open it, that you thought it was painted shut? It looks like the guy who installed your system skipped this window. He didn't bother with a sensor. Call him tomorrow. Get it fixed,” he told her.
Lillian saluted him.
"Yes, sir, Detective Fields,” she teased. Michael pulled her into his arms again to steal another kiss before they headed to Tony's Pizzeria.
* * * *
"Mrs. Sampson, thank you for the tea and the delicious cookies. You really didn't have to go to such trouble for us,” Detective Miller stated as he eyed his impatient partner. It became obvious the ol
d lady was lonely, desperately in need of some company. He didn't find any harm in obliging her, especially if they were to get some useful information from her.
"Oh, Detective, it's no trouble at all. I don't get many visitors now. My arthritis is so bad, I have difficulty walking. Only my grand daughter, Allison, would come visit me every week."
"That must have been nice. I remember you mentioning this before when we first met. I asked if you recalled the last time you saw your grand daughter. You told me, at the time, three weeks ago,” Detective Miller stated as he read the words off of his little notebook. He wanted the old woman to know he wrote down everything.
She watched the detectives carefully. To Willy she seemed unsure, a bit nervous.
"These are delicious,” Detective Jacks complimented as he popped another cookie in his mouth. This brought a smile to Mrs. Sampson's face.
"She stopped coming around every week because of her new boyfriend, I think.” She sounded rather sad. Detective Miller couldn't help the feeling he had inside. His gut told him the old lady knew more. He had to be patient.
He looked at her face, sensing the sadness and the loss she felt. No one should have to experience such loss. To have a family member die by murder always seemed heart wrenching to the detective.
"That must have been very upsetting for you?"
"I was very upset, but she told me she was in love with him. I had a bad feeling, but what do I know? I'm just an old lady, these are different times."
"Maybe not. You know, sometimes, it's wise to follow a feeling. Did you ask her why she wasn't visiting as much anymore?” Detective Miller took another sip of tea. The taste of cinnamon apple killed his taste buds, but it was a small price to pay for a break in this murder case.
* * * *
Mrs. Sampson brought her hand to her temple closing her eyes. She tried to remember what the young man looked like, but her memory wasn't so good anymore. She did however remember his eyes. They were blue. They hid the devil within.
The detectives watched her. She appeared to be remembering something or perhaps trying to decide whether she should tell them what she knew. Detective Miller reached over to touch her other hand.
"Are you feeling all right? Can I get you something?” he asked softly. She opened her eyes to smile at the detective.
* * * *
The detective was average looking but charming, which made him attractive. He had light brown hair and light blue eyes, and wore a gold band on his left hand. He looked to be in his forties. Mrs. Sampson felt comfortable talking with him. Her gut told her it would be okay to confide in this detective—a family man, the gold band gave that away.
"I'm all right, thank you. Do you have children?” Mrs. Sampson asked as she openly eyed his wedding band. He acknowledged her observation.
He stood up a second to retrieve his wallet.
"Yes, ma'am, I have three little ones.” Opening his wallet, he showed her the pictures of his family.
"You have a fine-looking family,” she acknowledged before looking down at her hands, which she kept clasped on her lap.
"My daughter, Jessica, Allison's mother, was a lovely child. A very smart girl who did great in school. She got caught up with the wrong crowd in high school, met a young man who really wasn't any good for her. He held her down, didn't want her to excel in life, surpass him, I think. Anyway, they got married young. Times were tough for them. Before Allison was born, Jessica's husband began cheating on her, being abusive. Finally, one day, he left and never returned. My daughter felt devastated, used. She didn't think she'd find another man to love her. She wanted nothing to do with Allison, so she left. I raised that girl from three months on. She never wanted to be like either of her parents. She wanted a better life. She was doing it. She worked at the hospital, started out as a receptionist, worked to pay for nursing school. She was an L.P.N. you know?"
"That's fantastic. A nurse's job is so important. So when did she meet this boyfriend? What did you say his name was?"
"I don't know his name. She never told me."
The detectives looked disappointed a moment.
"But I saw him once,” she added, sensing their disappointment and wanting to help the best she could. They both sat up in their seats a little straighter.
"What did he look like? Where did you see him?"
"I went to see my granddaughter at her apartment. They weren't expecting me, but I wanted to get a look at the man. Allison appeared excited to see me, but he wasn't.” She paused a moment, put her head down. The detectives waited.
"My memory isn't as good as it used to be, Detectives. I remember his eyes, though. They were blue, evil looking. He was tall, handsome, and young."
Detective Jacks wrote the description down on his notepad. But she knew they needed more.
"Do you remember what color hair he had? Maybe any distinguishing features? Like a tattoo, scar, mole, or something? Maybe a vehicle parked outside that could have belonged to him?” Detective Miller asked.
She sat there closing her eyes a moment before answering. She tried so hard to remember, but she couldn't do it. The tears escaped from her eyes.
"I'm so sorry I can't remember more. My memory is getting worse, I'm afraid. But I can tell you this much ... he was no good. A very evil, evil man, despite his good looks. I'm certain my Allison suffered the consequences of my surprise visit the moment I left the apartment. She hadn't called or returned my phone calls. One night, she called me and told me she loved him, that he brought her a special gift and they were celebrating that night. Three days later, you were at my door step.” She began to cry again. Detective Miller consoled her.
"We're going to do everything we can to find her killer, ma'am. I want you to call me if you remember anything else about him. Anything at all.” Detective Miller told her. She could see he wanted desperately to bring Allison's killer to justice.
* * * *
After a half an hour, the detectives left Eleanor Sampson's place to head back to the precinct.
"Well, we have a little bit of a description. Now what?” Detective Miller asked.
"We go back to Allison's apartment, to her workplace. Someone has to know a name of this guy. He had to have left something behind at her apartment. Women love to hold onto things from their boyfriends,” Detective Jacks stated as they continued their investigation.
* * * *
"Hey, Michael, how are you? How's the wound? I see you're working again,” Tony asked as he hugged Michael hello.
"Yeah, I'm back to work. The wound is fine Thanks for asking. The place is busy tonight,” Michael added as he scanned the bar. Lillian looked around as well, probably hoping they didn't see anyone they knew. That hope disappeared the instant they heard Carla's voice. Jimmy and their friends began to yell hello, from a corner booth.
"Lillian, right? You're the owner of the bookstore?” Tony asked. Lillian acknowledged him with a nod of her head.
"I'm Tony.” He shook her hand.
"It's nice to meet you. We order from here all the time. My aunt usually pick's it up."
"Mabel is a lovely woman. We're friends,” he stated. Lillian laughed as Tony smiled wide, winking. Her aunt appeared to have some secrets of her own, as well.
"You are even more attractive than she described. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'd better get back. Enjoy the evening, you two.” He walked away, heading in the direction of the kitchen.
"So it begins,” Michael whispered to Lillian, holding her hand as he led her toward their friends’ table.
Lillian noticed neither Carla nor Jimmy seemed to bat an eye at the fact she and Michael were together. She had a feeling they already knew. Aunt Mabel instantly came to mind.
* * * *
Michael followed Lillian as she slid into the booth next to Carla. Their friends, Brad, Ron, along with Tyler, were looking over the menus.
"So, what are you guys doing here? I thought you had plans with your friend from work Carla?”
Michael asked his sister.
"We did. What a long story that is."
"What happened?” Lillian inquired, hoping to take the obvious attention off of them. The guys, Jimmy as well as Carla, were all smiles. Michael and Lillian exchanged glances.
Carla seemed to get the hint as she began to tell her story about their botched evening. Before long, they were laughing, having a good time.
After they ate, everyone headed toward the bar, but Carla pulled Lillian with her to the ladies’ room. Lillian looked at Michael who smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
* * * *
"So you're with Lillian, huh? I'm impressed,” Jimmy told Michael as he gave him a wink, smiling.
Michael took a sip of his beer but didn't respond.
"What's the deal, partner? This could be dangerous,” Jimmy whispered, so the others wouldn't hear their conversation.
Michael understood Jimmy's concern.
Jimmy picked up his mug of beer to take a sip.
"Listen, Jimmy, this is different. I really care about Lillian. I want it to work out. We've been dating for a couple of weeks now ... I've never felt like this.” Jimmy stared at his partner. Michael appeared serious, and Jimmy couldn't help to show the shock. He immediately placed the beer mug back down onto the bar.
"Holy shit ... you are serious about her, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I am. It's incredible to think I didn't even like her. I mean I went by my first bad impression of an irate woman, hair tucked under a baseball hat, paint all over her as she yelled at a plumber or someone. What a jerk I was.” Michael started laughing.
"You sure were. I remember that. But you two never met again until ... oh yeah, the premiere. She looked incredible that night. She's a stunning woman, Michael, and your sister's best friend."
"Don't worry about it. We've discussed this. I'll talk to Carla tomorrow."
Jimmy picked up his mug of beer again.
"I don't think you have to worry about Carla. She thinks this is great. She, along with Aunt Mabel, have been talking about you two for days. Aunt Mabel knew immediately about you guys. She thoroughly checked you out. We could use her on the force,” Jimmy stated.
Lillian's Love Page 9
