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149 pages

English

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Northeast Catholic High graduate and Cape May Courthouse Detective Jake Miller, was a decorated Navy SEAL, before getting married and going to work in law enforcement, in Cape May County, New Jersey. In the course of trying to find out who blew up his house, killing his wife, Jake and his fellow detectives uncover a drug organization that involves police corruption. All of the fights, murders, car chases, and investigations that follow take place throughout the neighborhoods of Phildelphia, and the New Jersey communities 'down the shore'. Hopefully, you'll find this book entertaining and hard to put down, until you find out who is guilty.

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Fiction

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Publié par	AuthorHouse
Date de parution	22 juin 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9798823010634
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

JAKE MILLER

BILL MACK

AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 833-262-8899

© 2023 Bill Mack. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/22/2023

ISBN: 979-8-8230-1064-1 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-8230-1063-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023911556

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
CHAPTER 1
T he sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, as he drove up Rte. 55, and by the time he hit the Walt Whitman Bridge, it was full-on daylight, and the beginning of the morning rush hour into Philly. While Jake disliked the drive from the Jersey Shore, crossing the bridge into the city was like coming home, and his favorite part was the view from the top of the span. You could see the whole city of Philadelphia laid out right in front of you…from the Navy Yard on the left, to South Philly and the sports complex straight ahead. To the right were the towering buildings in center city, with West and North Philly beyond those buildings, and the river wards, to the far right. James ‘Jake’ Miller was born and raised in one of those river ward neighborhoods…Port Richmond. Or, as he preferred to say, “I grew up in the suburbs of Port Richmond, Venango”, which was just one of the ‘mini-neighborhoods’, that comprised all of the larger neighborhoods that made up Philadelphia, earning Philly the nickname ‘The City of Neighborhoods.’
As he merged onto I-95, his upcoming testimony was foremost in his mind. See, this was strictly a business trip for Jake. Detective Miller was on his way to the Federal Courthouse, at 6 th and Arch Streets., to testify for the Prosecution, in a $50 million drug case that he, and his partner, worked on, with the D.E.A., in a joint operation with The Cape May Courthouse Police Department, where Jake reported for work every morning. Just like the Federal Prosecutor said, Jake’s testimony only lasted a couple of hours. He basically verified that the time-stamped pictures that were introduced as evidence, were taken by him, and that they were taken in a bar in Kensington, another neighborhood in Philly, where the defendant had taken the undercover detective to make the drug buy, that got everyone there in court.
There really was no cross examination. Just some bullshit questions about “How long were you in the bar?” and “How many drinks did you have?”, trying to convince the jury that Jake may have had too much to drink. The lawyer knew he wasn’t gonna get anywhere with that line of questioning, and Jake figured he was just doing his job and breezed through the 10-minute cross.
As Jake left the courtroom, just after 11:00, he was trying to plan the rest of his day. Maybe get a hot pork sandwich, find a seat at Penn’s Landing, enjoy the sunshine, and do a little girl watching, before heading back down to his wife, Mary. Now, he had a plan. He had just retrieved his weapon and cell phone from the security lockers, feeling pretty good about his testimony, and how the rest of his day was going to shape up, when he heard someone call his name. All of Jake’s plans were about to change, and his world was about to be turned upside down.
The voice he heard belonged to his partner, Detective John ‘Sonny’ Burns. Jake wondered what Burns was doing here, as he wasn’t scheduled to testify until later in the trial. Burns hollered again. “Jake!” Finally spotting where the voice came from, Jake acknowledged his partner with a wave, and headed in his direction. He could tell by the look on Sonny’s face that something was wrong.
“Sonny, what are you doing…” was all he got out before Sonny cut him off.
“Jake! You gotta come home right now! They’ve been trying to call you for a couple of hours now, but with you being in court, and all, I had one of the uniforms drive me up here. Jake, there’s been an accident. At your house.”
“Sonny, what are you talking about? What kind of accident?”
“There was a fire…or an explosion…and then a fire…the details are sketchy at this point.”
He led Jake outside, and to the waiting Cape May Courthouse police cruiser, at the curb. Jake grabbed Sonny by the left shoulder and spun him around. “Hold on, Sonny! What about Mary?”
“When I left, they didn’t know anything, Jake. It’s really bad! C’mon! Give the keys to your unmarked car to Chuck, here, and get in the squad car.”
Jake hadn’t noticed Det. Hector ‘Chuck’ Alvarez standing next to the patrol car. As he handed him the keys to the unmarked, in the garage, he vaguely heard Hector say something like… “Sorry Jake. Everybody is here for you.”
Jake grunted, and got in the back of the car, with Sonny Burns. John’s Pork Shack, and girl watching were now the furthest thing from his mind.
The female officer driving the squad car must’ve set a record for Philly to the Shore. Over the 57 minutes it took her to travel the 74 miles to where Jake’s house in Villas used to be, Jake was able to ascertain, from Sonny, and the half dozen calls he either made, or got, that there had been an explosion, then a fire. The first 911 call came in at 8:07 a.m., so the best guess was the explosion was right around 8:00. The 1500 square foot rancher was now a pile of rubble. There was no sign of his wife Mary, but since the 2 dogs had been in the yard at the time of the explosion, and her 2011 Subaru was parked outside, the assumption was that she was still inside. The Fire Marshall had just declared the area safe to enter, at 11:45 a.m., so when they turned onto Jake’s street, at 12:15, they hadn’t found anything yet.
Jake bolted from the car before it came to a complete stop and had to be restrained by a couple of uniformed officers. “Get the hell off of me! I’ve got to get in there!”
“Hold on, Jake! It’s best if you stay here, and let the firemen, and our Detectives do their job.” This was Jake’s boss, Lieutenant Arthur Kaufman.
“Let go of him, boys…we’ll take care of him.” He motioned for Detective Burns, and Detective Alvarez, who just showed up, to flank Detective Miller.
“Lou, you gotta let me in there…that’s my wife in there. She may need me!”
“We have all the help here she could possibly need, Detective Miller. We’ve set up a command post there in your neighbor’s yard. Why don’t you go sit there and have a coffee. You’ll be the first to know when we’ve found anything.”
“Yeah, Jake,” echoed Sonny, “Let’s you and me go sit over there, and let these guys do what they do.”
Jake agreed, but they hadn’t even reached his neighbor Max’s front gate, when they heard a shout from Jake’s property… “Got something!” Jake heard that statement many times over the years, and it almost never meant good news. Jake’s heart sank, and all he could do before he passed out was collapse on Max’s step, bury his head in his hands, and cry.
Mary Elizabeth Miller was laid to rest in Holy Redeemer Cemetery on Friday, May 26 th , two weeks to the day that she died. Jake couldn’t help noticing that from the gravesite, he could see the back of the house where Mary grew up, on Croyden St, in the Bridesburg section of the Philadelphia. He thought about the times when they just started going out together, and they would hang out in almost this exact spot. He was a Senior at North Catholic, and she was a Senior at Little Flower, in 1995. They would get somebody to buy them a 6-pack, and head into the ‘cemo’, where they could drink some beers, listen to the radio, and fool around a little, without worrying too much about cops showing up, or neighbors complaining about the noise. Mary would always say … ’Dead men tell no tales.’
Geez, it was over 20 years ago, but it seemed like yesterday. They managed to stay faithful to each other while he was in the military. Six years later, Jake got out and married the girl who had waited for him. He was going to spend the rest of his life taking care of her and protecting her. He always thought the protecting part would be the easiest. Turns out he was wrong about that.
~~~
Jimmy Miller joined the Navy right out of high school. For reasons he wasn’t quite sure of, he volunteered for the United States Navy’s Sea, Air, Land Team, and spent the next 15 months surviving a series of brutal training courses. During this time, the 5’10”, 175 lb. ‘weakling’, packed on 40 lbs. of muscle, and graduated a member of Navy SEAL Team #5, specializing in underwater demolition, and an expert rating in weaponry, as well as hand-to-hand combat.
Following his discharge, and subsequent marriage, he applied for a position as a Rent-a-Cop, in Wildwood, during the summer of 2002. The New Jersey shore communities had a long-standing practice of