Chapter 63 – Playing With Fire
Saturday afternoon June 14, 2008 – 2:00 PM
While an old flame was being rekindled in unit 630 of the Medford River Park Condominiums until it radiated with the white hot brightness of a million suns, somewhere not so far away, a new flame was rising from the smoking embers of a burning heart which was never quite doused. All that was needed was for someone to come along and poke at the charred remains of the smoldering ashes until once again they glowed a molten orange. All that was needed was for someone to come along and add a drop of fuel to the fire until once again it cracked and popped with the sparkling intensity of a towering inferno.
And just when it seemed as if charred remains were all that was left in Tracy Stone’s heart, Cam Miller came along and inadvertently prodded her back to life. Just when it seemed as if smoldering ashes were all that remained in Tracy Stone’s soul, Cam Miller came along and added another combustible log to the fireplace of her mortal embodiment.
But now…now that at long last the embers were once again burning red hot in Tracy Stone’s veins, Cam Miller was…well, to put it succinctly, Cam Miller was playing with fire.
While one black widow had already captured her prized possession on this entrancing day before the church bells had even struck twelve o’clock in the afternoon, another black widow was in the process of weaving her own web of deceit.
While the seduction of Frank Newlan was nearly complete, the persuasion of Cam Miller was only just beginning…and the inducements which would be offered up by our femme fatale, Ms. Tracy Stone, were more than Cam, or any man for that matter, could ever hope to withstand.
In fact, at that very hour, Cam Miller was about to enter into the humble abode where the ring-leading coconspirator who had plotted his brother’s death once laid his weary head to rest at night. At that very minute, Cam Miller was about to set foot into the very same dwelling where the evil plan which led to his brother’s demise was hatched and nurtured. At that very second, Cam Miller was preparing to enter his personal house of horrors on a moment’s notice; his presence having been requested by none other than our courtesan for bloodlust, Ms. Tracy Stone.
Amazingly enough, Cam’s trusting wife Susan wasn’t the least bit concerned about the implications of this hurriedly arranged meeting, and as a matter of fact she actually encouraged him to go…and her reasoning seemed quite sound at the time.
“She needs someone to talk to…so go be a friend in her time of need and God will bless you for it later,” counseled Susan as she walked, hand-in-hand, with Cam down the winding stairway of their somber home.
And so it was fated to be, that on this beautiful day in mid-June of 2008 Cam Miller would step out of his gloomy castle’s front door and cross over another ethereal threshold into his brother’s dismal temple of doom at the beckoning of the cunning enchantress who had fortuitously hastened his only sibling’s exit from this dreary land of the living.
After much contemplation, and even more consternation, Cam tentatively crept his way into the living room of the Breslin homestead as Stone serenaded him with a warm hug and an appreciative greeting.
“Thank you so much for coming Cam. I just had to talk to someone about my testimony, and I couldn’t think of anyone else who could relate to what I’m going through better than you can. Tell your wife that I said thank you to her as well for allowing you stop by. She’s such a saint for being so patient with me whenever I call,” exalted Stone.
“She’s just as concerned about you as I am,” solemnly replied Cam.
“I know, but if it was me, I’d never let you out of my sight,” purred Stone as she attempted to make hypnotic eye-contact with Cam. But despite her best efforts, Cam repelled the invasion, however unwittingly, and he held his ground for the time being. Of course, then again, whether he could resist Stone’s powers of persuasion for the duration of their meeting remained to be seen.
Clearly, persistence had paid off for Stone in the past, and she rightfully assumed that it would only be a matter of time before Cam’s pliable heart was fettered in a labyrinth of leather and lace.
However, much to Tracy Stone’s dismay, within minutes of Cam’s arrival, an unexpected disturbance had taken place right there within the cozy confines of her comfortable home. Before Cam even had a chance to sit down, Stone’s hyperactive children, being naturally curious as all kids are, came wandering in from their backyard playground to investigate this unfamiliar man who had just entered their home, and when they barged into the living room and got a close-up look at the man in question, their expressions ranged from shock to hysteria.
“Mommy I thought he was dead. I thought the bad man was dead. I thought he was gone forever,” cried Stone’s panic-stricken, nine year old daughter, Rebecca.
“It’s alright honey this is Freddie’s brother, Cam. I know that they look a lot like each other, just like JJ and Kevin look alike. But Cam is a good man. Cam is mommy’s friend,” softly explained Stone as she wrapped her daughter in a tightly wound hug.
But regardless of her mother’s explanation, Rebecca Breslin was inconsolable, and her incendiary reaction prompted her younger brother, seven year old Kevin, to burst into tears as well. Meanwhile, stapled firmly to the other extreme of the measuring stick, eleven year old John “JJ” Breslin, Junior, being the chip off the old block that he was, didn’t react with even the slightest bit of fright or tears…but rather with anger.
“You’re the reason my daddy’s in jail. I want you out of my house,” ordered JJ as he made a mad dash towards Cam with his pint-sized fists balled up and ready for mayhem. But mercifully however, Stone intercepted her son in mid-stride, and she went on to angrily chastise him for his troubles.
“Where is this anger coming from JJ? I didn’t raise you to be a disrespectful brat. Now you apologize to Cam right this very instance,” demanded Stone, but JJ was having none of it.
“Never,” screamed JJ as he retreated up the stairs and out of sight, into the protective chamber of his bedroom.
And upon witnessing the reaction of their older brother, who they idolized like a pop star, Rebecca and Kevin were more distraught than ever. But despite the chaotic madness that had descended down upon her household, brought about by her children’s manic outburst, somehow Stone persevered. It wasn’t easy, but somehow she managed to calm the kids down a tad, and she sent them marching up to their rooms, while in the meantime, Cam knew where he wasn’t wanted.
“I’m sorry Tracy, but maybe I should leave,” resolved a visibly shaken Cam. However, Stone wouldn’t hear of it, and she did her best to downplay the embarrassing incident, and her children’s remonstrative backlash towards him.
“Don’t be silly Cam. Please, sit down. I should be apologizing to you, not the other way around. I should have warned them that you were stopping by. But they’ll get over it. After all, they’re just kids being kids…and I’ll deal with them later. So please, don’t take it so personally,” urged Stone in a soothing tone as she took a seat next to Cam on the sofa and rubbed his hand with her strobing fingers.
Stone was very much expecting a favorable response, but once again her advances were thwarted; this time by a force more powerful than she could have ever hoped to conjure up.
Naturally, John Breslin Junior’s acting-out episode left Cam feeling very much aggrieved, but he was also overcome by another powerful emotion as well; fear; irrational fear. He was awed by the fact that little JJ looked so much like his father, and he instinctively shriveled away from the touch of the woman who had spawned this dangerous seed.
“What if that kid comes looking for me someday with revenge on his mind,” deliberated Cam, while at the same time Stone softly rambled on about one thing or another…and even though her words were the work of a sorceress, they had little to no affect on him.
Cam was so distracted by JJ’s actions, and by the uncanny resemblance between father and
son, that her colloquy went in one ear and out the other, without ever being fully processed by his brain stem.
“Don’t you agree Cam?” inquired Stone in an insistent tone. And despite his confusion, Cam seemed to understand that she was looking for some sort of validation, so he replied in the affirmative, albeit rather unconvincingly.
Stone easily interpreted the blank look painted on Cam’s face to be one of out-and-out incomprehension, and she pointedly asked him, “Have you even heard a single word that I’ve said to you in the last ten minutes?”
“I’m sorry Tracy, but my attention span has been a bit lacking these days…what were you saying,” politely replied Cam, and he came to an abrupt realization that it was awfully silly of him to be worrying about the potential of retribution from the hands of an eleven year old kid.
But Cam’s worries aside, in response to his admission of inattentiveness, Stone roughly pinched his arm and she stared sharply into his eyes again, this time with a renewed sense of purpose.
“Like I just got through saying, this whole mess is my asshole husband’s fault, and as you could see for yourself, my kids are scarred for life…not to mention the fact that I’m an emotional wreck too…and he just sits there in that courtroom day-after-day looking like he’s doped up on lithium or something. I swear to God I wish he were dead,” confessed Stone as a chilling bolt of anger swept over her like lightening in a bottle.
As it has been well-documented already, the schizophrenic Tracy Stone fluctuated between wanting to see the life snuffed out of her husband, to wanting him back in her life, and all points in between. And as it has also been made exceedingly clear, Cam Miller’s inner-voices very much wanted to witness, or even better yet, partake in an outcome where Breslin met his bloody end; but for the foreseeable future however, his own plans were to be kept under lock-and-key, for the sake of all concerned.
And yet, despite his cloak-and-dagger resoluteness, Cam still speculated as to whether his facial expressions might have betrayed his emotions in any way, while at the same time he fervently thought to himself; “Tracy, if only you knew how badly I want him dead…if only you knew.”
With a preponderance which more than hinted at her mindreading abilities, Stone then added some weighty substance to her already confessional tome; “I wonder if somehow, some way, somebody could make it happen. I wonder if someone out there could pull a few strings…grease a few palms. Besides, he’s better off dead than rotting in jail. Sure the kids would suffer for a little while, but it’s better than the alternative of them having to visit him in prison for the rest of their lives.”
“Come on Tracy, we don’t even know if he’s gonna be found guilty yet,” reasoned the rational portion of Cam’s brain, even though, with each passing day, he was beginning to feel more and more confident about the prospects of a successfully prosecuted outcome to the trial.
But on the other hand, in a twisted way, Cam sometimes wished that Breslin were allowed to walk out of prison Scott free, released on a technicality; because then, between himself and his deceased brother’s many friends, they would take care of the rest; they would make sure that Breslin got what he deserved; and if he had any say in the matter, one way or another, Breslin would be looking at a death sentence. Of course, Tracy Stone didn’t even want to consider the possibility that her husband might somehow win his release from prison, and she gave Cam an earful for his blasphemous remark.
“After what I’ve been through this past week, these past two and a half years for that matter, he better be found guilty,” argued Stone, while internally, she envisioned her ex-husband’s ultimate downfall in her mind’s eye.
Stone knew full well that both Freddie and Cam had access to an army of not so reputable acquaintances; people who could pull off her scheming plan without a hitch, and make it look like a walk in the park to boot. Just like Sammy the Fox had done her ex-husband’s dirty work, there had to be somebody out there who could do her dirty work. There had to be somebody out there, who, for the right price, could make her problem disappear; be it in prison or out on the streets. If one were to look at the dilemma logically, it would become apparent to anyone with half a brain that all she needed was a tidy sum of cash, and then…and then, John Breslin had better watch his back.
And while Stone plotted her next move in the dark recesses of her mind, she suddenly had an even better idea; an idea which had been brewing in the canyons of her subconscious for quite some time now; perhaps her ex-husband might meet his stunning fate right there in the courtroom…and perhaps Cam would be the ‘chosen one’ who was destined to hammer the final dramatic nail into his coffin.
Stone had been whispering dark invocations into Cam’s ears for over an hour now, and if what she was mumbling wasn’t clear enough already, she was about to make it even clearer.
Stone peered even deeper into Cam’s eyes and she softly repeated her request, over and over again, in a spellbinding assault on his willpower.
If truth be told, it was she whose voice had been slowly chipping away at his defenses for the better part of the past six months. If truth be told, it was she whose well-aimed silent tocsins had been penetrating his armor for days on end, slowly ingested over time, until in their totality, they did the trick.
“I want him dead…and the sooner the better…and there’s a prize waiting for whoever makes it happen,” intoned Stone, and by some sort of unspoken decree, these extemporaneous words melted into an enticing mantra which she began raining down on the helpless Cam’s brow.
Suddenly Cam’s head was spinning in a dizzying fashion as Stone’s voice slowly permutated from deadly singing into wordless chanting…and just like that he was putty in her hands; between her piercing eyes, and her mystical incantations, and her heightened resolve, he was no match for her ageless bit of black magic; just like that he was hypnotized before the finishing touches of the hex had even left her mouth.
Cam Miller was now under Tracy Stone’s spell. Cam Miller was now at Tracy Stone’s beck and call. Cam Miller was now under Tracy Stone’s command; and if Cam Miller didn’t already want to participate in John Breslin’s execution badly enough for his own personal reasons, Tracy Stone was about to provide him with even more motivation to get the job done.
Just in case her powers of persuasion weren’t enough of an invitation, Tracy Stone was about to resort to the oldest form of witchcraft known to man. Tracy Stone took the barely conscious Cam’s hand and gently placed it on her warm vestibule of womanhood, while she simultaneously whispered into his mesmerized eardrums; “For whoever succeeds, will be granted the key…the key that unlocks…my tunnel of love.”
From the Eyes of a Juror Page 76
