Confident there was no way they could catch up with him, he slid down the enormous incline, dodging rocks, trees, and other overgrown debris in the dangerous slope. From above, flashlights beamed down, but they were too far away to see him and the brush overshadowed the landing below. He finally hit the black pavement of a small storage garage for maintenance, hidden in the woods near a back, one-way side street.
Relieved, he had found the isolated area and parked his car there, knowing he would need a quick escape. He couldn't take a chance at being caught. He wanted his time alone with Lillian. They were going to be together soon.
He released a sigh the moment he was safely in his car, away from the hospital. He made it. He had succeeded. Now, it was time for the grand finale.
* * * *
Four o'clock Thursday morning, Michael's cell phone started vibrating on the wooden bedside table. Lillian, exhausted, lay undisturbed. She hadn't heard a thing as Michael slowly got out of the bed and answered the phone.
"The son of a bitch attempted to kill Mrs. Sampson about an hour ago,"
Miller told Michael. Michael knew that Miller liked Mrs. Sampson. Willy told him about her.
"Is she alive?” Michael asked.
"Just barely. That old lady is a tough one. She must have heard him come in because she set off the panic button. He escaped out the window after stabbing her."
"What about the security?"
"Cop outside the door appeared to have been stabbed with a syringe. They still don't know what was in it, but the guy is snoring and out cold. We'll just have to wait until he wakes up."
"This isn't good, Troy. Her room was on the sixth floor. How the hell did he get up there? Where was the cop patrolling the outside perimeter?"
"Getting a cup of coffee. Martin must have been scoping out the place. He knew how long the cop would take before coming back. He also used mountain climbing gear to enter and exit the building. This guy is resourceful. It scares me."
"So did anyone see his face? Did they get close to catching him?"
"We believe the officer outside the room did. Two officers in the patrol car could only say that they saw blond hair."
"Well, keep me updated on the situation and Mrs. Sampson."
"Will do, Michael,” Miller said before he hung up the phone.
* * * *
Friday night approached, Mrs. Sampson remained unconscious from her surgery, the police officer still out cold. They hoped the two would wake up soon to clearly identify Martin. Michael wanted them to look at a picture of Martin Crane, to confirm that he was in fact, their attacker.
Lillian remained a nervous wreck with Lillian's Love turned into some kind of Hollywood stage production. The band practiced all afternoon. The workers managed to set up the tent despite numerous complications, the chairs finally arranged precisely as the decorator commanded, and workers completed their final assignments. Saturday's weather forecaster called for sunny skies, the temperature predicted to be in the mid eighties. The whole town buzzed about the premiere and the final surprise was when Miss Babcock stopped by unexpectedly. She turned out to be down to earth, gracious, and very thankful to Lillian.
"I could use you on one of my covers. You're gorgeous!” she told Lillian in front of everyone. She heard that same sentence from practically every person all day long.
By the time Michael arrived to pick her up from work, her staff had told him what Miss Babcock said.
"Cover of books now too, huh?” Michael asked as he walked into her office.
Lillian laughed. “Don't you start. I've heard that all day today."
"Oh, how terrible for you. Are you ready?” Michael winked.
"Just about.” Lillian walked toward Michael. Instantly, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply.
"What was that for?"
"I missed you, Miss Lilly. Let's go."
Lillian giggled at the pet name as they headed out the door.
* * * *
Saturday evening, the stars were shining bright. All the festivities from the day had been a great success. Now Miss Babcock sat finishing up her reading from the story Traditions as the crowd listened in a trance. Lillian, Michael, and Carla stood side by side, listening. The premiere appeared to be a hit, a one of a kind event for the small town of Stony Point.
"Miss Baxter, a moment please,” Mr. Ludwick interrupted.
Lillian moved to the side while Michael gave her a little room but kept his eyes on her.
"Everything has gone wonderfully. Miss Babcock would like to give a special bonus to you and your staff. She would also like to have another premiere here in the future if your place is available."
"Oh, that's so kind of her, and yes, she can call me to set that up. It would be my pleasure to accommodate her. I hope you've enjoyed your stay with us."
"Definitely. The Bed and Breakfast was most wonderful. Thank you. Now we need to prepare the stage, make sure the band is ready to perform. Miss Babcock wants them to begin as soon as she finishes."
"Okay, let me just grab my friend."
"He looks more like a bodyguard. No one will be able to get close to you tonight,” Mr. Ludwick said with a wink. Lillian smiled.
She told Michael what she had to do and he accompanied her as Carla went inside to see the rest of the festivities.
* * * *
A while later, Carla walked through the gardens in search of Jimmy. The dim lights, softly illuminated the paved walkway. She continued to walk by the gardens along with some other guests until she saw someone standing by the row of arborvitae trees that lined Lillian's property. She thought she recognized the person. He or she was hunched over as if sick to the stomach. Concerned, she headed closer.
"Can I help you? Is something wrong?” Carla asked.
She realized too late it was a trap as he grabbed her. Covering her mouth, he pulled her into the darkness. She attempted to fight him off, scream through the cloth that covered her mouth but it was no use. She felt dizzy as her vision blurred and the darkness set in.
A few moments later, an undercover officer walked by the same location only moments too late, the killer had his latest victim.
* * * *
The band continued to play patriotic music. The people attending the premiere were enjoying the night. Lillian received compliments numerous times by both the locals and guests. By the time the evening concluded, Lillian felt like it had all been a blur. The clean up crew already got things started as well as the staff inside.
"Well, it looks like we kept him away,” Jacks said as he joined Lillian along with Michael on the porch.
"Hey have you guys seen Carla?” Miller asked as he ran onto the porch from inside.
"No, we haven't seen her for a while. Why?” Michael asked, immediately sensing Miller's concern.
"We may have a problem. Jimmy said she left her purse and keys upstairs in your room. No one has seen her,” Miller stated.
* * * *
By mid morning the following day, all the authorities were on the lookout for Martin Crane and Carla Fields, Michael's sister. Lillian remained devastated, wanted to assist, but Michael made her stay at his place.
Lillian blamed herself for Carla's disappearance, everyone feared the worse.
Lillian had been crying all night that Martin had taken her best friend. They all knew what Martin was capable of.
Michael had been searching all night, looking for leads that never came. It appeared as if Carla had vanished through thin air. They finally came across one of Carla's high heel shoes by the arborvitae trees that lined the property. Forensics found some kind of cloth. Later on, they confirmed that the cloth was saturated with chloroform. Their fears were confirmed as twenty-four hours came around.
* * * *
Lillian woke up around 5:00 a.m. Michael still wasn't in bed. She put on her robe, heading downstairs to the kitchen, when she noticed Michael sleeping on the couch. He hadn't even come up to bed, hadn't spoken but a few words to
her in the past two days. He hated her, she just knew it. She hated herself.
Lillian sat down on the floor next to the couch watching Michael sleep. He looked exhausted, in need of a shave. She kissed her fingers, gently laid them against Michael's lips. The tears rolled down her cheeks as she started to get up to leave him.
"Don't go,” he whispered, his voice rough and deep.
"You stay sleeping. You need the rest. I'm sorry.... “Lillian didn't finish her sentence. There was so much she felt sorry for.
Her head heavy with sadness, remained down, the tears flowed.
"Come here, baby.” Michael raised the blanket off his body for her to join him.
Lillian snuggled up next to him. He covered them with the blanket.
"Don't cry, Lillian. We'll find my sister. We'll stop Martin."
"I should have listened to you."
Michael remained silent, confirming her belief that he blamed her for this. She heard him breathing but he never said a word. When will he say something to me? Tell me he hates me? Blame me for his sister's death? Oh, my God ... please don't be dead.... Oh, Carla, please. Michael blames me. I should have listened to him....
"I should have listened to you,” she repeated.
"Yes, you should have, but who would have thought he'd go after Carla? He's desperate, which means we're close."
"I'm so sorry, Michael.... I'll understand if you hate me. I hate myself."
"Don't say that. I don't hate you. This isn't your fault. He's a madman. He's the one I hate."
"I'll do whatever you want me to. Why don't you guys use me as bait? If he wants me, he'll come after me still."
"No way, Lillian. That's not even an option. I'll find Carla. I'll catch Martin. Now let's get some sleep."
"How can you be so sure? How can you even feel confident when Martin keeps succeeding in evading capture and now he has your sister?"
"How can I not? If I give up, if I don't fight, then Martin wins. You said it yourself, Lilly, we have to keep fighting."
Lillian stayed awake the rest of the time until Michael woke up around six in the morning.
By dinnertime the next day, Lillian sat in Michael's house all alone. Aunt Mabel, Kelly, and Justin had stopped by earlier in the day. So did Uncle Phil.
She assumed everyone was angry with her and when Aunt Mabel and Aunt June asked if she wanted company, she declined. Lillian wanted to be alone.
Lillian hardly touched the cheeseburger she had cooked herself for dinner.
Her mind remained on Carla. She thought about sneaking out of the house, making herself bait as she had suggested to Michael earlier. But what if she couldn't fight off Martin? What if he had already killed Carla? She closed her eyes tightly. The thought instantly brought tears to her eyes, pain in her heart. She thought about Michael. She would do anything to get his sister back, to stop all the killing.
Lillian cleaned up the kitchen, thinking about the small town of Stony Point, how this was supposed to be a new start for her. Her dreams were finally becoming a reality, her store a success. Now, surrounded by controversy, a serial murderer remained on the loose because of her. There had been no peaceful walks down main street, 9W or Central Highway in months. The comfort, the beauty of the town was lost because of Martin, because of the fear that he would take it all away from her. Lillian, feeling down, depressed, took a seat in the living room—the silence, deafening. She was alone with her thoughts until she heard some noise outside.
When she went to the kitchen window, she could see the smoke, a fire next door. She ran to the front of the house. The patrol officer wasn't in his car, he must have ran to go help. Lillian put on her shoes, and ran outside. She hurried across the side grass, scared at the sight as she prayed the family got out safely. She thought she heard screaming, the sound of fire truck sirens echoed in the distance. Turning toward the street, she could see them heading down Michael's block. She stood there watching, waiting until she saw the family escape unharmed. She never once heard the footsteps behind her. The needle penetrated through the skin on her neck. She could feel a man holding her upright. She closed her eyes.
* * * *
"What the hell do you mean she's missing? Where the fuck was the officer!” Michael yelled into the phone while Jimmy and Miller looked on.
"Holy shit a fire? Are the Harpers okay? Thank God.” The others listened as he spoke. “We're on our way. Don't touch anything,” Michael commanded, running his fingers through his hair as he explained everything to the others.
By ten o'clock that evening, Michael felt consumed with fury. He was scared for both Carla and Lillian.
"We're gonna find them. They're probably together. That's a good thing,” Jimmy stated. The nervousness apparent in his shaky voice, making it obvious he was trying to convince himself as well.
"This is crazy. He causes a diversion, a good one, and takes her just like that. No one sees anything?” Michael spoke to the others. Miller and Jacks listened in. They appeared just as concerned.
"I shouldn't have left her. I promised Lillian I would protect her, now look.” Michael expressed his concern, blamed himself for the current situation.
"Don't beat yourself up, Michael. You were trying to find your sister. The rest of us got caught up in the present situation, as well. None of us should have left Lillian alone,” Jacks added, sounding guilty.
"This guy succeeded in causing two diversions to get Lillian. He's got to be in the area still. Let's get working on what we have,” Miller said.
The search was on.
At midnight, Detective Miller's cell phone rang. He received a phone call from Mathew, Martin's friend.
"He's on his way. He said he'd be here in thirty minutes. He wants cash along with my car. He's not alone,” Mathew stated. Immediately, the detectives were on the move.
"You stay here, Jimmy. Keep everything going. Be sure to check in with me. I want to interrogate this bastard, find out where Carla and Lillian are,” Michael said as he headed out the door.
Michael drove with the detectives. On the way, Jacks notified the New Jersey State Police as well as his department. They had Mathew's place quietly, secretly surrounded.
By the time Michael, Jacks, and Miller got there, Martin Crane was in custody.
"Okay, Michael, this is what we have so far. He was with a young woman, twenty, brunette, claims that he's been framed. I think it might be better if Jacks and I go in first. You're way too wound up right now. We want to find out where the ladies are, make sure this guy goes away for life,” Miller told Michael.
He knew they were right, so he stood behind the mirror, listening, watching.
Jacks and Miller walked into the room, Martin Crane appeared to be sweating and looked guilty. Michael thought he looked like shit. Scrawny, out of shape, a weasel, ready to plead for his life.
"Why didn't you check in with your parole officer?” Miller asked.
"I told the other cops I missed it. I wasn't sure what to do."
"Bullshit! Start talking, Crane. We know the truth!” Jacks yelled as he rattled Crane's chair from behind. Martin shook in fear. Michael watched through the glass. The guy looked like a dirt bag, weak, sickly. He had a bad feeling.
"We know you were dating Thea Rose. Somehow, she turned up beaten and dead. You like to beat women, don't you, Martin? You think you're such a man,” Miller antagonized him as he squinted his eyes at Martin.
"No! I didn't do it. I swear. I was framed."
"Bullshit! Who the fuck would want to frame a low life like you? We found your clothing at the crime scene. Just like at Allison Loyd's apartment. You left a razor.... “Martin interrupted Jacks.
"Who the hell is Allison Loyd?” Martin asked. Michael's bad feeling intensified.
Jacks and Miller continued to question Martin. After a half hour, and loads of tears from Martin, they believed Crane told the truth.
"I did show up at Thea's apartment and she was already dead. I swear I didn't do it. I
freaked out, knew you guys would think I did it. I just kept running. I heard you wanted to question me, blamed me already for the murder and for others. I swear it's not me. I haven't killed anyone. I loved Lillian. Things got out of hand. I received counseling. I loved Thea,” Martin screamed out, hysterically crying.
The realization starting sinking in that perhaps after all this time they had been after the wrong man.
Michael quickly dialed Jimmy's cell phone number.
"Yeah, Mike, what's up?” Jimmy asked.
Michael filled him in. “I want you to go to the hospital, show Mrs. Sampson a picture of Martin Crane. Ask her if that's who tried to attack her twice. Then see if that cop woke up yet."
"He just did. Right before you called me, the hospital called. He's talking,” Jimmy told Michael.
"Get there immediately. Show him the damn picture."
Michael hung up the phone with Jimmy, his head spinning. They were after the wrong man all along. Now what would they do? Who the hell had his sister and Lillian?
Jacks and Miller appeared just as shocked.
"This doesn't make sense. Martin had been seen with the victims, evidence located at the crime scene,” Miller stated.
"The real killer made it look that way. This guy is smarter than Martin and us,” Jacks added.
"Wait, let's just think about this. Blond hair, blue eyes, great physical condition. An athlete, zip with computers, a perfectionist,” Michael said as he paced the room.
"You're right. This guy is meticulous. He ensured that he cleaned everything up. He doesn't like to be noticed. He prefers to blend in,” Jacks added.
They were coming up with a profile.
"He had access to Lillian's apartment, got in undetected. He was probably in the store at one time or another. Now who could do all that?” Michael asked.
Michael's cell phone rang. He answered it.
"Hey, Michael, it's Brian from B.C.I., we got some results from that drop of blood you guys found on the art desk from the crime scene in Nyack."
Lillian's Love Page 20