"That's great! Is the blood Martin Cranes?” Michael asked.
"No, sir, it wasn't. It belongs to Justin Phillips. The guy who works for Lillian,” Brian told him.
Michael's mouth dropped.
"Holy shit, that son of a bitch!"
* * * *
Carla sat on the floor in the living room. Old music from an antique phonograph played in the background. Lillian remained passed out on the floor across from her.
"Lilly. Please, Lilly, wake up,” Carla whispered as she looked around the room.
"She'll be asleep for a little while longer. She'll need her rest."
"I can't believe you're responsible for all this. Why, Justin? Why!” Carla yelled.
Justin answered her with a backhand across the cheek.
"I don't need you alive. I could kill you right now before Lilly wakes up. You're as good as dead. It's Lilly I want,” Justin stated as he stood up, took a seat in an old Victorian-style, single-seater chair.
Carla glanced around, noticing the whole place was decorated from the Victorian era, a style Lillian liked. She noted the smell of fresh wallpaper. Justin appeared to be obsessed with Lillian. She glanced at him. He continued to just stare at Lillian, smiling, gawking at her as he licked his lips. Carla couldn't help the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She instantly thought of the women he had killed, the stories in the newspaper. How would Jimmy and her brother Michael figure out that Martin wasn't the killer and Justin was? He must have planted the evidence to frame Martin. Carla recalled Lillian's difficulty in believing that Martin could be a murderer. Michael expressed his upset with Lillian for even thinking Martin wasn't capable.
Carla looked toward Lillian again. Her best friend was right. Martin was innocent. Justin sat right under their noses. No way would Justin get away with this. Carla looked at him again, he was practically drooling over Lillian. She clenched her teeth, stared at him.
"They'll find us. They'll figure out it's you,” Carla stated.
Immediately, Justin stood in front of Carla. They were face to face.
This time he didn't stop so easily. Carla screamed out in pain as Justin twisted her wrist. She felt and heard the bone crack. The dizziness instantly set in.
Justin shoved her head against the wall. The fancy, pointed trim molding caused a gash on the side of her temple. Carla cried as she covered her head in defense.
"No, please!"
Justin stopped the moment he heard Lillian.
* * * *
He rushed to Lillian's side.
"Oh, how wonderful, you're awake.” He sounded out of breath. Lillian's eyes widened in surprise and shock.
Justin is the killer? Her gut instinct was right. She just couldn't believe that Martin was capable of murder, but she figured things out too late. She needed to save Carla."
"What do you want with us, Justin? Why are you doing—"
She couldn't complete her sentence. Justin placed his fingers over her lips.
"Shhhh.” The sound, too loud to be anything but controlling, was eerie.
"I have so much to show you.” He touched her cheek. Lillian could hear Carla crying in the background.
"I don't think so, Justin,” Lillian said as she pushed past Justin, losing her balance as she tried to get away. Her head felt fuzzy, her body weak, tired. She wondered what was wrong with her. Her legs didn't seem to work, nor did her attempt to fight Justin. She wasn't fast enough. Justin grabbed her hair from behind.
She screamed out in pain, fell backwards onto the carpeting. He straddled her body with his as he held her arms against her sides.
"I expected a little resistance, Lillian. I planned on it. Let me explain what's going to happen to you.... Do you see all this?” he asked as he let go of one arm to motion with his hand around the room.
"I did all of this for you, for us. We're going to be together forever. We'll stay right here only minutes from town, yet no one will ever find us."
Lillian swallowed hard. She couldn't help the shaking or the tears.
"You can't be serious? Why are you doing this to me?” Lillian asked. Justin touched her cheek with his hand.
"I love you and you need me. You've been through so much, my darling. Now, I've created the perfect world for us to live in. We share so much in common. The love of an era, a time where talking, sharing experiences, and intimate moments together were the way time was spent. Just you and I! I can't wait!” he exclaimed.
Lillian got the chills. Justin was out of his mind.
He got up off of her, helped her to her feet before he pushed Lillian down in the chair. He grabbed her hands, tying them behind the chair.
"I have to do this for now. We need some time to get to know one another better.” He smiled at her, wrapping the silk material multiple times around her wrists. She could feel her circulation stopping. “You're hurting me, Justin. It's too tight,” she whispered. He leaned his face next to hers.
"This is nothing. Just wait, my little pet. There's so much in store for us.” He kissed her nose, letting his teeth touch the tip. Mortified, she closed her eyes.
He didn't tie her legs as he headed across the room but not before kicking Carla in the ribs.
"No! Please stop it. Don't hurt her,” Lillian pleaded. Justin just laughed as he left them there.
Lillian waited a few minutes before speaking to Carla.
"Carla! I'm so sorry, Carla!"
"It's not your fault. He's a sicko. There's no getting through to him."
"This is all my fault. I don't care what happens to me. I'm going to get you out of here."
"No, Lillian, don't give in to his demands. He's going to kill us both."
Lillian didn't answer Carla as Justin came back dressed in black, pulling a black sweatshirt over his head, preparing to leave.
He bent down next to Carla, began pulling her up from the floor. She cried out in pain.
"What are you doing with her, Justin? Where are you taking her?” Lillian asked as she tried to free her hands.
"We don't need her here. I want you all to myself. Tonight is our first night together. I'm not sharing you with anyone. I'll leave her body in a nice location that will certainly keep the detectives busy for a while."
"No, Justin, please don't kill Carla. Please! I'll do anything you want. Anything!” Lillian screamed.
"No, Lilly, don't do it. Fight him,” Carla yelled back. The tears streamed down her cheeks.
Justin dropped her back down onto the floor kicking her again. The loud thump, the cry of pain, sent chills through Lillian's body. He walked over to Lillian. She sobbed heavily.
He grabbed her face, his mouth so close to hers, his gaze penetrated through her. She had the feeling she was as good as dead.
"Is this what you want?” he asked still staring deeply into her eyes.
Lillian blinked her eyes once but stayed looking directly into the blue darkness. Is he for real? Would he actually allow Carla to live if I plead for her life? Lillian wasn't sure of the answer. She begged Justin to let Carla go, to keep her alive, free her.
"Yes.... Please,” she whispered, only thinking of Carla's safety. She had caused this whole mess. Justin wanted her and she wanted Carla, Michael, her aunt Mabel, and the others safe.
Lillian felt Michael blamed her, hated her for causing Carla's abduction. He wanted his sister back alive. Lillian was willing to do anything to make that happen. She loved Michael with all her heart. She didn't even have to give sacrificing herself a second thought.
"Say it again. Beg me to keep her alive."
Lillian stopped crying, stared into Justin's eyes.
"Please, Justin, don't kill Carla. She doesn't deserve to die. I'll stay with you ... forever,” Lillian said, bowing her head in defeat as she cried.
"No, Lilly.... Please,” Carla cried out.
Justin lifted Lillian's chin up toward him, placed his lips over hers. His lips crushed against hers, intruding in her mouth with his tongue while he
fondled her breasts with his hand. His other hand remained holding her face. Lillian could feel the indentations in her cheeks as Justin dug his fingertips deeper. Lillian wiggled her body in her chair, trying to fight against his touch, but failed.
When he finally released her, a taste so foul, so disgusting lingered in her mouth, spread like a virus down her throat directly to her soul.
"I've waited so long to kiss you like that. To taste you. I'll do this for you, then not another word about your past."
"I promise, Justin. Please ... let Carla live."
He kissed her one last time, gently glided his hand down her hair, grabbing a handful, bringing it closer to his face. He inhaled deeply as he closed his eyes.
"I'll be back real soon. Be a good girl,” he warned her, then he picked up Carla placing her over his shoulder. Lillian could tell that Carla remained in serious pain, the tears streamed down her face, her eyes were red with fear as she looked at Lillian.
Lillian whispered, ‘I love you.’ Carla did the same, choking back cries of helplessness.
'Tell Michael I love him and goodbye,’ Lillian mouthed to Carla just as she exited the room.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 15
Lillian couldn't do anything but cry.
She cried and prayed that Justin wouldn't kill Carla. She prayed to be saved before Justin had his way with her.
She went back and forth with God, one minute praying for his strength, his use of special powers to get help to Carla. The next, she found herself becoming angry with God for doing this to her, to Carla, to the other women.
"Wasn't Martin beating me nearly to death enough!” she cried aloud into the silence. She never felt so alone in her life.
She thought about Michael, again prayed that God would help keep Carla alive. A gift to him, the safe return of his sister would be the final show of her love for him.
Lillian knew that the detectives were on a wild goose chase. That was exactly what Justin wanted. By the time Carla informed them of the true killer, if she made it, it would be too late for Lillian.
* * * *
"Justin? Are you sure, Michael?” Jacks asked. Miller looked surprised.
"It's the only possibility. The blood you found from the crime scene in Nyack came back belonging to Justin. Think about it. How else could the killer keep getting so close, undetected? Plus, he fits the description of Martin Crane to a ‘T.’ No one has made a definite or absolute identification of the killer,” Michael said.
"But if the cop from the hospital can identify Justin as the person who broke into the hospital and maybe Mrs. Sampson, as well, then we've got enough on him,” Jacks added.
"That's why he wanted her dead so badly. She could identify him. He probably planted the evidence we found at the crime scene in hopes of getting Martin charged for the murders. He set him up!” Miller stated. They began pulling more of their information together.
"We need to head back immediately. We can put out an APB on Justin's car, get a warrant to search his residence. He is related to someone my uncle knows. I'll call him on the way. They'll get a move on things. Hopefully, Jimmy will call back soon,” Michael told them as they headed out of the police department.
It was a long drive back to Rockland County. Michael felt at his wits’ end. He felt somewhat responsible because he had a bad feeling about Justin from the get go. He never liked the way the guy looked at Lillian, always watching her. Michael knew he passed it off as plain jealousy. He hated other men looking at Lillian or showing interest. That was only natural considering the love he had for her. Now, he may never see her or his sister Carla again. The thoughts brought tears to his eyes. He swallowed hard, demanding they didn't surface.
As if reading Michael's mind, Troy spoke to him while he drove.
"Are you holding up all right, Mike? This has got to be tough,” Troy asked as if thinking how horrible the situation appeared.
Justin was the real killer, obviously not dealing with a full deck, plus he had both Michael's sister and girlfriend. The insanity of the situation disturbed him. The fact that they had all been tricked, angered him. None of them ever expected Martin Crane to be a total decoy.
"I'm trying my best. Thanks for asking. I just wish Jimmy would call!” he demanded.
Five minutes later, he got his wish when the phone rang.
Both the cop from the hospital and Mrs. Sampson confirmed that Justin had attacked them. He was the killer. Now they had to work fast to find Carla and Lillian.
If they were still alive?
* * * *
Carla clung to the side of a rock by the stream. That bastard threw her body right out of the truck. She rolled a long way down the embankment, hitting bushes, rocks, and numerous branches before landing in the water. Her face was cut, the wound on her head oozed the thick red liquid caused by the gash. The fall caused it to tear wider as the blood blocked her vision.
She counted the time it took from where Justin held her captive to where he just dumped her. The time, short, approximately five minutes tops. She used her fingers one at a time signifying every sixty seconds she counted. Five fingers, five minutes. She prayed she were right. She was so scared not knowing if Justin would keep his promise to Lillian or commit another murder anyway.
He kept his promise. She was alive and knew her best friend made sure of that by sacrificing her own life. Carla wouldn't let that happen. Determined to make it back up the hill to get help, she pushed herself to a standing position and leaned against the tree stump for support. Lillian's life depended on it.
She started to get up, making the painful climb with one hand to pull herself up. The other wrist broken, now swollen huge, throbbed as badly as her head.
She heard the gunshot. She froze in place. Was it Justin? Was she shot? Did he return to finish her off? Her questions were answered when she looked toward the direction the shot came from.
A man stood in the darkness between the tall tress. She could barely make out his clothing, his face, but she could clearly see him holding a shotgun.
By the looks of him with his long beard, dark eyes, construction boots, and mean look when the moonlight finally hit his face, she would have been better off dead.
But she was totally wrong because the man turned out to be her second miracle of the night.
* * * *
Michael, Jacks, and Miller just arrived at the sheriff's office. They had their search warrant in hand, the officers already at Justin's residence. Justin had ditched his car down the street from Michael's house. They should have figured he'd be smart enough to change vehicles.
"Did you run him through the system? I want to know about every vehicle he's owned, every house or piece of property he's ever lived on, his education, background ... everything!” Michael called out. Police personnel continued working the phones, the computer systems, and patrolling the streets.
Michael, Jimmy, Jacks, and Miller left for Justin's apartment along with a few deputies. Ten minutes later, they arrived at the house. Michael's cell phone rang.
"Yeah, Detective Fields, I've been trying now for an hour to get anything on this Justin guy and it's like he's never existed. Everything is coming up empty,” the detective from the B.C.I. Unit told him.
Michael figured Justin used his computer expertise to erase everything about himself and his existence.
"I guess we can add computer hacker to his list of crimes. Keep trying,” Michael told the detective. He informed the others.
They entered the apartment, making sure it was secure. Most of the things were gone. Justin must have been in a hurry because one photograph sat on the empty bedroom floor. It was a picture of Lillian, Justin, Kelly, and Aunt Mabel in the bookstore.
"This fucking guy cleared everything out. Now what?” Jacks asked.
"Let's talk to the neighbors. Maybe he revealed something to them or they saw him go somewhere. Whatever we can find out,” Michael stated.
* * * *
Lillian felt exhausted and she desperately needed to use the bathroom. She couldn't just sit there in the stupid chair and wait for Justin to come back. God only knew what sick plans he had in store for them. In his absence, she came to the conclusion that Justin was mentally ill. That explained his belief that the two of them were some kind of soul mates.
He had been sneaky breaking into her apartment, setting up the video cameras. The thought of him seeing her naked, in her most private moments, sickened her. He was a wiz at computers, knowledgeable of world history and many other things. Never mind his athletic abilities or strength. She would be no match for him strength wise.
Lillian thought about the self-defense courses she took. She needed the element of surprise. She attempted to think about each step for each technique from her self-defense instruction. She had difficulty remembering what to do, how to make the moves and which one to choose. Her panicked state caused nothing but confusion. She prayed her instructors knew what they were talking about when they told her that it would all come back to her if she ever needed to use the moves.
She needed Justin to think he had control before she did anything in attempt to escape. If he kept her sedated or tied up, she wouldn't have a chance.
The only choice was to play along with him—enter his sick Victorian world and hope for the best.
She lifted herself up along with the chair, which turned out to be heavier than she anticipated. She wouldn't be going far, not as long as her hands were tied.
She found herself quickly out of breath, back aching and sweaty by the time she reached what appeared to be the living room. She was in some kind of basement. There were no windows anywhere. She made her way down the hallway. The first door on the right remained closed. Everything had been decorated the same way, same style, and era.
The door opposite the one closed, had a sign on it that said ‘Powder Room’ in script with a picture of a young woman in a vintage style dress. She wondered how she could maneuver the small space. If she did, how could she take care of her needs? She opted to search the house starting with the closed door.
As soon as she opened it, the sound of a music box playing a lullaby filled the air. Lillian fell back in the chair in shock. A full nursery, cradle, crib, stuffed animals, and all stared back at her. The sick bastard was telling the truth about keeping her forever.
Lillian's Love Page 21