The Power

by Cynthia Roberts

  “So you thought you recognized me from a portrait?” he asked of Lillian’s slender back.

  “At first, I wasn’t sure how I knew you, just that I did.” she explained. “That portrait hung in my home for many years.”

  “And your grandmother kept a journal?” Jack asked to get it right.

  “What?” Lillian turned to look at him.

  “A journal?” Jack repeated. “That’s how your family, how you know the story of Jackson and your great, great, great, grandmother so well?” Jack came down the stone steps at the front of the massive building to stand directly before Lillian.

  “Yes. She did keep a journal, but it was lost many years ago.” She sounded sad over that fact, Jack mused. And why wouldn’t she be? A family journal from a hundred or so years ago! How amazing!

  “Now that you know I couldn’t possibly be this Jackson from a hundred years ago what are your plans for me?” Jack tipped his head, and smiled.

  Lillian smiled then. “Perhaps you are Jackson, reincarnated, and perhaps, just perhaps, I am my great, great, great grandmother.” Lillian tipped her head to mock Jack. Jack laughed out loud.

  “This isn’t the movies, Honey. Things like that don’t happen in real life.” Jack assured her. Lillian smiled, and ducked her head, but Jack couldn’t help but to think he had upset her somehow with his remarks.

  “I’ll let you get back to your work, Jack Stone.” Lillian bowed regally before him, making Jack grin.

  “It’s late. I can work in the morning.” he assured her.

  “Ah, but don’t the bad guys work at night?” She was teasing with him.

  “Yes. Some do, but unfortunately, I don’t have a magic wand to wave and point the way to find them.” Jack smiled. He held his hand out for Lillian. “I’ll take you home.” he offered.

  “If you take me home, you’ll never wish to see me again.” Lillian warned.

  “I can’t imagine that.” Jack said honestly, and he tossed her a wink.

  “My home is…” she paused.

  “Is?” Jack pressed, motioning for her to go on as he helped her into the passenger’s seat of his car, closed the door, and ran around to his side, climbing in.

  “It’s big.” Lilly took up where they had left off, and Jack grinned.

  “Now, how did I know that?” He teased as he helped her into the cab, and climbed in beside her.

  Thirty minutes later, after Jack had let Lillian out at the huge cast iron gates in front of her massive home, he wondered yet again what he was getting himself into!

  Chapter nine

  Jack awoke to the familiar ring of his cell phone at a little past seven the following morning. Rubbing his hands over his face to wake himself up, he snatched the phone from the bedside table and answered it with a disgruntled, “Yeah?”

  “It’s Bordello. Wake up, Stone. We got a lead. Seems someone saw our kid Bobby leave last Saturday night with a younger kid, a Tyrone Watson. Word is they were on their way to rough some kid up. Two guesses on who?” Tony scoffed.

  “Ernie Sanchez.” Jack filled in. “We know where to find Watson?”

  “That we do. Pick you up in ten?”

  “Yea. Good work, Bordello.” Jack rolled out of bed.

  “Like I told you before, this isn’t my first rodeo.” Tony chuckled, and then he disconnected the call. Jack skipped the coffee, and took a fast, ice-cold shower instead. He could always grab coffee on the way, he reasoned.

  “Tyrone Watson.” He said the name out loud. He hadn’t heard it before. Silently, Jack wondered if the kid had been in trouble before. He would find out soon enough, he thought, as he headed down to meet Bordello.

  Twenty minutes later, Jack and Bordello had Tyrone Watson and his mother, a heavy-set black woman, seated in the living room of the Watson home.

  “My baby’s never been in trouble before.” Mrs. Watson growled angrily. “He gets good grades in school, stays away from drugs and bad kids. I’m proud of my son! Yes, I am! Tyrone is a good boy, a real good boy!” The mother was in defense mode, Jack thought. He had seen it many times before. What mother could believe their own baby was a drug dealer, a rapist, or a murderer? Mrs. Watson’s voice rose several octaves during her tirade in her son’s defense. It’s too early in the morning for this, Jack thought and he tried to ignore the urge to cover his ears against the woman’s loud ramblings.

  “I understand your concerns, Mrs. Watson, but we’re just here to question Tyrone.” Jack explained as gently as possible.

  “Question? Why? Don’t we have rights here? Shouldn’t a lawyer be present?” Mrs. Watson was still going off, and it was giving Jack a headache.

  “As of this moment, Tyrone is not under arrest, or suspected of anything other than perhaps being a witness on a case we’ve been working.” Detective Bordello tried to explain to the frantic woman. “If you feel you need a lawyer at this present time, then sure, we can give you time to obtain one, or if you can’t afford a lawyer we can have one appointed to you, but Mrs. Watson, every second we waste, a murderer is getting further and further away from us. Your boy, Tyrone, he saw something Saturday night, something that could help bring a psychopath to justice. Now, I implore you, please let him help us.” Bordello’s speech was heartfelt and delivered with such strength and conviction that all eyes turned to the man, even Tyrone Watson looked up. There were tears in the boy’s big, brown eyes.

  “I didn’t mean it. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t stop. He was stronger than me, and I couldn’t make him stop.” Tyrone cried out desperately. Jack’s heart jumped excitedly at the boy‘s sudden, almost-confession. They had him now!

  “Tyrone?” Mrs. Watson called in concern. “Baby?”

  “Who was stronger, Tyrone?” Jack asked urgently, and he crouched down to the boy’s level, placed a comforting hand on the boy’s knee, and stared Tyrone Watson straight in the eye.

  “Bobby…Bobby Williams.” Tyrone ducked his head in shame.

  “Bobby Williams!” his mother shrieked in alarm. “The boy that was killed the other night?”

  Tyrone sobbed noisily, but he nodded his head. “It’s been eating me up inside, Mama.” Tyrone cried out. “I should have never been with Bobby or anyone like him, but you can’t run forever, Mama. You’re in rather you want to be in or not! They jump you in, and then there’s no way out.” Tyrone spoke hauntingly. Jack felt for the kid. The wrong neighborhood was sometimes all it took. Even good kids could end up doing the wrong thing. Mrs. Watson started wheezing, and sobbing hysterically. Detective Bordello had to lead the distraught woman to a chair, and help her to sit down. It was a long, drawn out moment of tears and pain before they were able to go on.

  “You and Bobby were in a gang together?” Jack asked, and when Tyrone answered, “Yes.” the boy’s mother began to sob in earnest. Tyrone explained that he had been jumped or rather beaten into the Hell’s Disciples three weeks ago.

  “Bobby said we were going to go beat this kid up, this kid who was one of our rivals. He knew where the kid was going to be…alone.” Tyrone related lowly. “I didn’t want to do it. I knew how it would upset my Mama if she ever found out.” Tyrone ducked his head in shame when his mom burst into tears all over again. Tyrone swiped at his eyes. “But, I knew if I didn’t go then I would be the one getting the beating. I went because I was scared not to.”

  “The kid you beat was Ernie Sanchez?” Jack asked calmly, and Tyrone’s mother began to wail painfully, having obviously recognized the name of the other murder victim.

  “Bobby jumped him in the alley behind Lani’s Garden Center. Ernie worked there, and was getting off late.” Tyrone explained. “I kicked the kid once or twice, just for show, you know? But Bobby was in such a rage that he didn’t notice I wasn’t as in to it as he was. I was glad of that. I thought it would be over soon, but then I saw Ernie on the ground, lying there with his eye cut. His face was all pulpy and bloody mess. Then Bobby starts shouting at him, telling Ernie he’s a dead man. Still
, I think we’re leaving, that Ernie is going to be okay, but then Bobby whips out this metal pipe, and before I know what he’s doing he’s wailing away at Ernie.” Tyrone sobbed out the last in shocked disbelief. “Ernie tried to get to his feet, to run, but Bobby keeps hitting him, in the legs, the back of the knee, his back. I don’t know what to do. I scream at Bobby to stop. I try to tell him he’s taking things too far, but he won’t listen to me!” Tyrone shook his head madly. “He just wouldn’t listen.” he insisted.

  The room had become eerily silent, Jack noticed. Even Tyrone’s distraught mother had fell quiet in shock at what she was hearing.

  “Go on, Tyrone.” Jack encouraged., and he patted the boy’s knee in a comforting manner.

  “He wouldn’t stop hitting Ernie. I’m screaming. Ernie is screaming in pain. We’re both begging Bobby to stop. I can see though that Bobby isn’t about to stop, so I jumped on him from behind. I’m pulling on his arm, the one with the pipe in it, but Bobby is stronger than me. He tossed me away like I was nothing, and he starts hitting Ernie in the head. I jump up again to help Ernie, but Bobby’s stopped hitting him now. I look, and I see that Ernie isn’t moving anymore. His head, oh God, his head! There’s blood everywhere, seeping out of Ernie’s mouth, all over Bobby and even splattered on me. And then I just know; Ernie’s dead.” Tyrone looked up suddenly with tears streaming down his face. He met Jack’s gaze. “Am I going to jail now?” he asked in a frightened tone.

  “There’s more, Tyrone. I need to know what happened next, what happened to Bobby?” Jack encouraged.

  “You wouldn’t believe me.” Tyrone insisted in a shaky voice.

  “Bobby isn’t the first victim I’ve seen killed like this, Tyrone. If you’ve witnessed something, I need to know what.” Jack strongly insisted.

  Tyrone shook his head. “I saw it with my own eyes, but I don’t even believe it.” Tyrone said deep in thought. Jack and Bordello exchanged looks, and Jack suddenly knew that what he was about to hear wouldn’t sit well with him.

  “Whatever the case, we still need to know what you saw.” he encouraged the boy to go on.

  “You’ll think I’m crazy.” Tyrone warned.

  “Just tell us the truth no matter what it is.”

  Tyrone gathered his thoughts and went on with his story. Why did it suddenly feel like he was back in the Boy Scouts, and they were all sitting around a campfire relating ghost stories, Jack wondered sarcastically.

  “It wasn’t human, what killed Bobby.” Tyrone said shakily.

  “Not human?” Jack repeated, and Tyrone shook his head negatively.

  “It was strong, very strong. It…uh …She, had Bobby off of the ground, and Bobby was kicking and fighting, but it did him no good. Then Bobby didn’t move at all, and the thing, whatever it was, it threw Bobby’s body on me so hard and fast that it knocked me down. When I looked up, it was climbing the alley wall. The wall goes straight up, man, but it had long, sharp nails that dug into the brick like a cat would a tree. It was like an animal, but…but it looked like a woman.” Tyrone was so deep in thought that Jack found it near impossible not to believe the kid.

  “A woman?” Jack couldn’t help but to remember what Jose Gonzales had said. “She was beautiful, man. I told her I could eat her alive, but it seems she was the one doing the eating tonight, eh?” Jose had said.

  “All I could see was the back of her, but she had long, blonde hair, and she was built not all muscular like a dude, but slender, athletic. Tyrone went on. “I mean I could tell by her shape that she was a woman.”

  “And how did she get a hold of Bobby without you seeing her face?” Bordello was the one to ask.

  “I was upset over Ernie. I was crying. I couldn’t help thinking I was going to jail. I knew it was going to kill my mama. Bobby got mad at me, real mad. He knocked me down. He had the pipe in his hand, the one that he had killed Ernie with. He had it in the air, coming down at me with it. I closed my eyes. I thought I was going to die, like Ernie had. I thought…I thought that would be better than going to jail, then breaking my mama’s heart.” Tears slipped down Tyrone’s cheeks. “But the hit never came. I felt this gush of wind, and when I opened my eyes again, Bobby was gone. I was going to run then, but then I heard this scuffling sound coming from deeper within the alley. I heard…I heard muffled screams and…”

  “What?” Jack persisted.

  “Strange sounds that I can’t describe. I should have run, but I couldn’t. I crept toward the alley, and that was when I saw it, her.” Tyrone finished.

  “And what was she doing?” Jack asked almost urgently, as his heart beat away from him.

  “It looked like it was eating Bobby’s neck.” Tyrone looked up. Jack’s heart thumped hard. He met Bordello’s gaze, and he knew Tony Bordello was just as thrown by all of this as he, himself was.

  Why did he suddenly feel like they were on a case of the X-files?

  Jack and Tony left the kid and told him they might need him for questioning later, insisting that he not leave town.

  “He’s going to jail. You know that, right?” Bordello said glumly as they climbed into their sedan.

  “Yeah.” Jack quipped. “I know.” It was a shame. The kid’s life would be ruined for one foolish mistake, but that mistake had cost another kid his life. Two kids actually, Jack thought with a shake of his head. Such a shame.

  Chapter ten

  Lillian walked into their coffee shop at a little past ten p.m. She and Jack had not arranged to meet there this night, but had somehow both ended up there anyway. Jack was already seated in their booth when Lillian slid in on the other side of the table. Jack was sipping black coffee. Setting the cup down, he said. “I’m going to have to arrest a kid.”

  “And you don’t want to.” Lillian filled in, reading it of his mind, and seeing it in his slumped shoulders.

  “No.” Jack agreed, and he took another sip of his coffee. His heart was saddened, Lillian thought, listening to the slow beats of it. He didn’t want to put this kid in jail. He thought it would ruin the boy’s life. He was probably right.

  “I’m sorry.” Lillian whispered sincerely. Jack’s dark amber eyes lifted, and the regret Lillian saw there was almost physical. Lillian reached for Jack’s hand, cradling the warmth of it in her own, cold, lifeless one. Jack didn’t seem to notice though.

  “You’re out late.” He commented, beseeching her eyes.

  “I wanted to see you.” Lillian confessed. Jack’s gaze burned into her once more.

  “Why?” he asked, and she could hear his heartbeat had picked up.

  “I don’t know. I just felt compelled to.” Lillian admitted.

  “And now that you’ve seen me?” Jack was staring at her mouth. His desire was evident without reading his mind. Her stomach churned most curiously. Lillian stood suddenly because what she was feeling frightened her, frightened her because she wanted it, wanted him so much. Jack stood slowly. He took her cool hands in his. “Walk with me.” He said and he led her outside. Together they walked down the sidewalk to the front of the next building, a business that had already closed for the evening. Turning her, Jack pressed her back to the cool glass of the store front window and stepped in close. Lillian met and held Jack’s heated gaze. “You can’t keep doing this.” Jack said huskily.

  “Doing what?” Lillian asked, staring at his inviting mouth.

  “Walking in and out of my life. Either you’re in or you’re out, Lilly.” he voiced as he leaned in closer to her body. The scent of his body washed over her, clean and masculine. She drew it in, drew him in.

  “I dreamt of you today.” Jack told her, touching the side of her face with gentle fingertips.

  “You did?” Lillian replied curiously. Jack nodded slowly, and he leaned in so that his tempting mouth hovered over her awaiting lips. It was all Lillian could do not to pull him to her, to surrender to all that he offered.

  “I dreamt you were calling my name, only it wasn’t my name. You said Jax.” he bre
athed out.

  “Jack.” Lilly called his name softly now. Her hands tangled in the front of his shirt, and slowly she pulled him toward her. What was she doing? She didn’t know. The only thing she did know was that she was powerless to resist. “Jack.” she whispered his name again just as the warmth of his mouth touched her lips. The kiss was gentle, searching, and Lillian returned the gentle caress the best that she knew how. She had not been kissed in ages, had not had the desire for such things, but now desire seemed to live and breathe within her, seemed to beat in her dead heart, and pulse through her dry veins. She closed her eyes, and surrendered to the one thing she had thought never to have again. Jack’s arms came around her. His hands tangled in the length of her hair, tipping her head back as his mouth sought hers again and again. Heat rose in her belly, and she gasped at the shock of the warmth there, where no warmth had been for over a hundred years. “Jack.” she called his name urgently, as he kissed the corner of her mouth, her ear, her neck. Jack pulled her to him, crushing her body against his, and groaning low in his throat.

  “Lilly. Sweet Lilly. What are you doing to me?” he whispered heatedly through her hair.

  “I could ask the same thing of you, Jack Stone?” Lillian countered huskily, and Jack pulled back just far enough to stare down into her eyes. He smiled down at her, and she couldn’t help but to smile back. He brushed the side of her face with gentle fingertips, and then tenderly kissed her lips. Lillian melted into him, laying her cheek to his strong shoulder. Jack held her close, sweeping his hands up and down her back.

  “Lilly, you’re way of my league, but I want you. I want you so bad, I ache, and it’s not just physical. It’s more, so much more.” he breathed out. Lillian stepped back. She met his amber gaze, and searched his beautiful eyes.

  “I’m right in your league, Jack Stone.” she told him, and he grinned.

  “Must you always use both of my names?” he asked in a teasing manner. “You sound so serious with that English accent of yours.” he playfully grabbed her sides, and moved his fingers against her flesh in rapid movements. Lillian just stared at him. “Not ticklish, hmm?” Jack said, sounding disappointed, and his fingers paused. Ticklish? Oh yes! Her father used to tickle her when she was a child. She recalled now rolling on the floor in gales of laughter. She smiled at the memory.