Hard Pressed

By Gayle Phillips-Roberson

Was It a Drug Overdose, Or Murder?

Ten years ago, a young woman was found dead in an abandoned drug house, the cause of death ruled as a drug overdose. The case was moved to the cold-case files, and there it stayed, until ten years later, when a random search into what appeared to be an unrelated case is brought to light, thus, opening a Pandora's Box of old hurts and wounds long since buried, and a hidden secret, that once discovered, could mean the death of Lily Greenwood and her niece, Chandra.

Lily and Chandra moved to Lindsay, NC to begin a new life. Unfortunately, the secrets and lies she tried to leave behind, followed her, and now, that new life could come to an end before it begins. Especially, after she and Chandra are pulled over for speeding by Granville County's too fine Sheriff, MacArthur (Mac) Trainer. To Lily, Mac was the finest specimen of a man she'd ever known, and just the thought of him gave her the most erotic thoughts. But she knew those thoughts were too dangerous to pursue, and if she was going to keep her secrets hidden, she had to avoid the sheriff at all costs.

It was obvious to Mac that Lily was hiding something, especially after she was practically run off the road by an unknown assailant, and when he walked in on her purchasing a gun, he knew he had to get to the bottom of what was really going on. Day by day, as his attraction for her grew, he knew if he was going to share a life with Lindsay's newest resident and her obnoxious, gum-popping niece, he had to unravel the secrets they brought with them from New York.

What was Lily hiding and what was her connection to the death of the young, unidentified woman ten years ago, which was now the center of Sheriff Mac Trainer's investigation? Can he untangle the maze of secrets and lies and stop whoever was trying to silence the only person connected to it all – Lily Greenwood?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gayle Phillips-Roberson
• Release date: May 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386838869

Gayle Phillips-Roberson

Gayle Phillips-Roberson is a native Tulsa, Oklahoma, who currently resides in Houston, Texas, who just recently went into early retirement to become a full-time fiction writer. She is a proud grandmother, who loves writing (obviously), attending her grandson's basketball games, and attending church. She loves football season, with her favorite teams being Dallas Cowboys, Houston Texans, New Orleans Saints and Kansas City Chiefs. Some of her favorite writers are Zane, Walter Mosley, and Catherine Coulter, and she dreams of adding her name to these New York Times best sellers.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Jacksonville, Florida – 10 years ago

Julia didn’t know what nauseated more, the smell of the dank, urine-stained mattress she was lying on, or the potent, massive dose of drug coursing through her veins. She could feel her life slipping away and thought, it was true, you really did see your life flash before your eyes. Because for the few fleeting moments she had left, she saw herself running home from school, side by side with her beloved sister, Eliza, as they raced each other to the top of the hill to their house, the home they shared with Nanna, their maternal grandmother, whom they’ve lived with since she was eight years old and Eliza was twelve. She saw her and ‘Liza,’ bursting through the front door, yelling to Nanna they were home, and they would find her in the kitchen, preparing dinner, and she would have their favorite after-school snack, a peanut butter cookie, waiting for them. 

She could see her and ‘Liza’ dancing in the bedroom they shared, to her favorite artist, Patti LaBelle. She drew a faint smile when she saw how the two of them were dressed in their homemade costumes made up of sheets, Nanna’s old church hats, and their Little Miss play makeup they received for Christmas from their grandmother, their intention to mimic some of the outlandish costumes Ms. LaBelle was famous for at the beginning of her career, and she had to admit, they looked pretty good.

She continued to fade in and out of consciousness, her flashback moving to the first time she met, who, at the time, she thought was the love of her life. She could see his smooth, almost flawless-skin, his incredible well-formed body, and finally, his deep hazel eyes, the same eyes that seem to cast a spell over her and hold her captive, until even now, the final, passing moments of her life. She didn’t want him to be her last memory when she closed her eyes for the last time, even though, no matter how she felt about him now, he was at one time a large part of her life, even though that life was filled with misery and heartache.

That’s why she would not take those painful memories with her when she could think about the most important and precious memory of all, her sweet little girl, Kendra, because she couldn’t leave this world without seeing her face one last time.

Her baby girl is with Eliza right now, safe and sound, and that knowledge made her imminent death worthwhile. She could see the last time she saw her sweet girl. She was five years old, and the three of them had just returned from a day at the zoo. The entire day was perfect. She could see Kendra’s happy smile and look of wonderment at each exhibit they passed. She faintly smiled at the vision of her daughter’s attempt to pronounce some of the animals she saw, and how she and Eliza laughed when they came to the bear exhibit, and Kendra cried when she couldn’t have the teddy bear.

Julia could see the sadness on Eliza’s face, the confusion in Kendra’s eyes, and the pain she felt when she had to leave them one more time, not realizing it would be the last time she saw them. They hugged, kissed and cried, and she wanted to reach out and touch the vision that seemed only a hair-breath away, but her arms were too heavy, as if they were weighed down with anvils. But still, she couldn’t give in to the death call, not now, not with so much more of her life to witness.

She tried to take long, deep breaths, but they came out shallow and threaded, and she knew it was almost time, somehow, she knew. Her head felt as if it weighed ten times its normal weight and she could no longer hold it up, which to her was a blessing, because it felt so good to be able to rest, even for a moment. Death was calling her, and she felt as if she was in school, eagerly wanting to raise her hand to answer the call to a question only she knew. Her chest expanded then slowly returned to normal. She was ready, dear God, she was ready, and she felt her eyes begin to close.

But then she felt a renewed pain when he grabbed a handful of her thick, matted hair and yanked her head back so hard, she whimpered in pain, because there was no breath left in her lungs to cry out.

Oh, no you don’t, his raspy voice growled. Not until you tell me where it is.

His voice was as vicious and cruel as he was, she painfully thought.

Where is it? he snarled. Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll take you to a hospital.

He was lying and she knew it. Because, since the first day she met him, every word that came out of his mouth was a lie. This time was no different. So, she wouldn’t tell him what he wanted to know. She couldn’t. For the sake of her daughter, sister and the man she loved, she couldn’t and she wouldn’t. Besides, she knew it was pointless going to a hospital. He’d given her a lethal dose, and she felt the warmth of the fluid he injected in her arm slowly seeping through her blood and turning that warmth into cold death.

She tried to tune him out as she fought through the murky haze between this world and the next, tried fighting her transition as hard as she could, but then wondered why? Why fight the inevitable? Why fight something she’d longed for ever since her father died and her mother left her and Eliza with Nanna to fend for themselves? So many years of pain. But her sister, daughter and the man she loved made it better, made her feel she was loved, even though she always felt she was never worthy of it.

Do you really want to die?! he yelled. He was screaming at her again, but she didn’t have the strength to raise her head to see the rage and determination in his eyes. Just tell me where it is, and I’ll get help for you! His words were no longer angry, but taunting, and indifferent. He loomed over her as she lay on the foul-smelling mattress, the only so-called piece of furniture in the abandoned, run-down house on the outskirts of town. At one time it was frequented by junkies, dope dealers and prostitutes, willing to sell their bodies for a single hit of heroin, or whatever their choice of poison.

A year ago, there was a fire that completely gutted the house, and it was rare that anyone so much as drove by, let alone inhabit it, so he wasn’t worried about intruders or being interrupted. He cupped her chin with his smooth, well-manicured hand, and turned her face toward his. She was barely able to open her eyes, another effect of the drug, but she could feel his sneering gaze on her.

I’ll find it, he promised. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find it. His voice was now docile, but the anger was always present. How could you do it? His squinted eyes glared at her with accusation. How could you betray me, and all for him? Well, the hell with the both of you.

Again, she tried tuning him out by praying for her transition, but it wouldn’t happen. There was more to be heard from him, and all she could do was endure.

He continued to stare at her, sometimes with hatred and disdain and then with the pain of betrayal. Well, you can both go to hell, because I will find it and life for me will go on, but not for you. His tone continued to mock her. Because life for you ends right here, and you know what else? No one will care, cause you’ll just be another junkie whore that OD in some burned-out drug house.

He looked at his watch. It was almost dawn, and he had to get out before someone did drive by and see the car parked out front. He’d already been there too long. But he had to try to get her to tell him where it was. It was his. She stole it from him and he wanted it back.

He returned his focus to her as her life slowly slipped away, and he wondered if she knew she was dying. Probably not, how could she? But he had to do it. Once he found out what she’d done, how she stole from him then compounded her betrayal with another man, she left him no choice. But he didn’t intend for her to die, at least not until she told him what he wanted to know. He didn’t think the dosage he gave her was lethal, but apparently, it was. Again, he was betrayed, but he would deal with that later.

Even now as he looked at her, he could tell he was the last person on her mind. Who was she thinking about? Him? Is he the one she’s protecting, the one she was willing to die for? Because there was something calm about her, something accepting in her eyes, and that’s what worried him. He felt the pulse in her wrist and it was light and almost non-existent. It would be anytime now. He knew he should leave, but his pain and anger won out and he stayed, just to see her draw her last breath, and to let her know her betrayal brought her to this moment. He listened as her shallow breathing was reduced almost to a whisper, and he thought maybe she would tell him now if he made her believe he would save her. There’s still time, he lied. Tell me where it is, and I’ll get you help.

Julia didn’t know how she did it, where her last ounce of strength came from, but somehow, she was able to open her eyes just wide enough to look into his, and with a weak smile and in a frail, thin voice, she said, It’s too late for me, we both know it, and you’ll never find it. Each word was a struggle as every breath brought her closer to her last. I’m finally free of you. That’s all I ever wanted. She faintly smiled at him one last time as a single tear slid from her left eye and on to the mattress where it mingled with foul, dried fluids. Her face turned from his, because she didn’t want it to be the last thing she saw in this life, and finally, she took one long, last breath and released it.

No! he yelled. You bitch! Tell me where it is! He grabbed her hair again and violently turned her head toward him and what he saw made him quickly release her. He knew she was dead, but her eyes were slightly opened and seemed to be staring directly at him. His shaking hand pressed against her neck, just to be sure she was dead, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a nonexistent pulse. But his relief was short lived when he felt a gush of cold air wash over him, and he quickly stood up and frantically looked around the room, for what he wasn’t sure. Again, he sighed with relief, because there was no one else in the room but him or the only live person, he corrected.

He looked down at her again and her death stare was still aimed at him, and he slowly backed up until he was pressed against the gray, graffiti-covered wall. His eyes scanned the room one last time and realized he had to go, and now.

He took a final look at her and saw her skin had begun to take on the pallor of death. For a micro-second, he felt a twinge of regret, but it quickly passed, because he thought of how she deceived him, and that pain overrode any regret he may have felt. I’ll find it, he said more to himself than her, and he rushed out the door and to the black BMW parked in the driveway, where he quickly got in and peeled out onto the darkened street and onto the freeway.

At three o’clock in the morning, except for an occasional lone vehicle passing him, traffic was sparse on the Jacksonville freeway, and that made him feel a little less nervous about the murder he just committed. His mind drifted to the woman he just murdered. What happened? He thought he was only giving her enough to loosen her tongue so she could tell him what he wanted to know. But the minute the drug was in her system, he knew it was too much, and it was only a matter of minutes before she died.

Now what was he going to do? Not only had he lost everything, but he just committed murder. So, it was definitely time to get out of town, and fast, which meant it was time to execute Plan B. That plan was finding her meddling, bitch sister, Eliza, because he would bet the last five dollars in his pocket that if the two of them weren’t in it together, then she at least told her sister where it was.

A slow smile formed on his lips as he thought about how he was going to get Eliza to talk. He blamed her for turning her sister against him, probably encouraged her to cheat on him with the other man. Well, he decided once that meddling bitch told him what he wanted to know, he was going to take extra time on her for some serious payback, then he was going to put a bullet in her head.

But first, he had to find her. He had an idea where to look, but it was going to take money, something he was in short supply. But he knew who had a shit-load of it, and that brought him to Plan C. He knew he would have no problem with that plan, but if he did, there was always Plan D. Because, to get what he wanted, he would plan through the entire alphabet. But he confidently thought that would not be necessary, because with what he knew, he would not have to go past Plan C.

A few minutes later, he was still checking his side view mirror, for whom, he wasn’t sure, but one never knew. He saw no headlights for the past few minutes, but for extra caution, he peered into his rear-view mirror, and his eyes widened in shock, his breath caught in his throat, and his heart practically jumped out of his chest. For a quick second, he removed one of his shaking hands from the steering wheel just long enough to rub his eyes. He blinked twice, then quickly turned his head to look in the back seat, and when he saw nothing, he breathed a sigh of relief.

He talked himself into dozens of reasons for what he thought he just saw, such as he hadn’t slept in over twelve hours, and he was tired, or the stress of just murdering someone was taking its effect on him. Yes, it could be that and countless other reasons for what he thought he saw in the back seat of his car, which was the woman he just murdered less than twenty minutes ago, his wife, Julia Wells-Baisden.

CHAPTER 1

Present Day

The flashing lights of the fast-approaching county sheriff vehicle were bearing down on the speeding Jeep Wrangler driven by sixteen-year-old Chandra Greenwood. She glanced over at the passenger seat and saw her aunt, Lily Greenwood, still peacefully sleeping and oblivious to the fact that she, Chandra, had been driving twenty plus miles over the posted speed limit, and was about to be pulled over and probably ticketed.

At first, Chandra entertained the idea of trying to outrun the pursuing official vehicle, but she’d watched enough high-speed chases on the six o’clock news to know, with all the techniques the law uses to stop those who try to evade capture, such as road spikes, there was no way she’d get away. So, she resigned herself to the fact that her only option was to pull over.

She wondered what her aunt was going to say when she woke up, not that the head-strong teen really cared what her aunt or anyone else had to say about the way she did things. She was sixteen, old enough to make her own decisions, and she was at the point in her young life where she didn’t need anyone to tell her what to do, and that included how to drive.

But, unfortunately, the law says she’s not old enough to run her own life, and that included driving alone down this off-the-beaten-path, old tobacco road, to live in some house left by her Aunt Lily’s grandmother.

Chandra took another quick glance at her snoozing aunt and then through her rearview mirror at the relentless police vehicle that was almost upon her, and decided it was time to face the music, so she gradually pulled over to the side of the highway. That done, she reached over and gently shook her aunt’s arm and hesitantly said, Uh, Aunt Lily?

Lily released a soft hum.

Aunt Lily, you really need to wake up, because we have a little problem, Chandra said a little louder.

The hesitant sound of her niece’s voice mingled with the word ‘problem,’ prompted Lily’s eyes to snap open, and she quickly sat up. A little disoriented, her eyes finally focused on Chandra. What? What kind of problem?

Look behind us and see, Chandra grinned.

At first, Lily stared at her niece with confusion, then she heard the siren, and recognition of the situation struck her, and she slowly turned her head to see a black and white official SUV with blaring red and blue lights parked directly behind them. Chandra! she exclaimed. How fast were you going?! Lily looked out the back window again to see the SUV door slowly open, and a leg covered in tan pants stepped out, and her questioning eyes quickly returned to her niece. Well?

Not that fast, Chandra shrugged. Maybe a couple of miles over the speed limit. That wasn’t true, and she hoped that little fact won’t come out, but she had a feeling it would. But, again she didn’t care.

Lily looked back to see the body that was attached to the leg had closed the cruiser door, and the officer was slowly walking toward them, and for a quick moment, she thought, ignoring the menacing scowl on his face, she would say the approaching officer was a nice piece of eye candy. He seemed to be at least six feet, two inches tall, with broad shoulders and expansive chest that was connected to lean hips and slightly bowed legs that had a sort of swag when he walked. At the moment, she couldn’t get a look at his eyes since he was wearing shades, but she had a feeling that was about to change because he was only inches from Chandra’s side of the car.

* * *

Sheriff MacArthur Trainer was not having a good day, starting with waking up to a clogged shower drain, which he had to leave because he had nine o’clock roll call, and since he was the sheriff, it didn’t look good for him to arrive late. So, he decided to leave the standing water until his shift ended and he could give it his full attention.

Then, when he rushed outside with a Styrofoam cup of hot coffee in one hand and his briefcase in the other, he discovered his front passenger tire was flat and he released a loud expletive. He knew no one would hear him because he lived on his one and a half acre property and was at least a mile from the nearest neighbor. He looked at his watch then back at the flat tire and exhaled a breath of frustration. If he could get the tire changed within the next ten minutes, he could just make it in time for roll call. He placed his briefcase and cup of coffee on the pavement, removed his long-sleeve shirt, and took on the task of changing the tire with all the enthusiasm of a NASCAR pit-stop mechanic.

It was a warm, Spring morning, and by the time Mac rolled the spare tire from the back of the vehicle, he could feel his damp, sweaty T-shirt sticking to his back.

Eight minutes later with a changed tire, he slid into the driver’s seat of his county-issued SUV, sighed a breath of relief that he was finally on his way, and hoped there would be no more incidents that would hinder him from arriving at the station on time.

Those hopes were dashed when he was traveling down the highway, and a jeep blew past him as if he were parked. His radar indicated the vehicle was traveling eighty-five miles an hour in a sixty-mile speed zone. He knew if he pulled the driver over, he would definitely be late for roll call, but it was unavoidable. It was his duty to stop such recklessness, so he turned on the sirens, accelerated his speed, and as he got closer to the offending speeder, thought, whoever it was, just picked the wrong day to speed.

When he was at least ten car lengths behind the speeder, he was relieved to know he would not have to give chase when he saw the glow of the red brake lights glare at him, and the driver’s speed began to gradually decrease. When he was sure both vehicles were safely pulled over to the side of the highway, he typed the vehicle license plate number into the Department of Justice computer, and it came back with the vehicle not being stolen, but registered to Lily Greenwood, from New York. Mac slid his shades back on, put on his hat, and stepped out of the car and slowly made his way to the Greenwood vehicle.

He glanced inside the back window and saw two females, but taking nothing for granted, approached with caution and stopped at the driver’s door and lightly knocked on the tinted window with his knuckle.

After the window was rolled down, he leaned down to get a view inside the vehicle, and it was then he saw the driver was a teenager, maybe sixteen or seventeen years of age, and a female passenger, who appeared to be in her late thirties to early forties. He assumed she was the vehicle owner, and she seemed to be a little disoriented as if she just woke up.

He turned his attention to the driver who was giving him a hard look, all the while popping a wad of gum, and before she had a chance to speak, Mac said, Good morning. May I see your license and proof of insurance?

Why? Chandra said with insolence.

Chandra! Lily gasped.

Well, why should I give him my license? What did I do wrong? Chandra said with belligerence.

You were speeding, Mac calmly answered.

Chandra smacked her gum even louder. Pfew. You actually pulled me over for going a couple of miles over the speed limit?

Try twenty-five, Mac said flatly, yet still calmly. And I’m not going to ask you again for your license and proof of insurance. His day had gotten off to a bad start, and this disrespectful, gum-popping brat was adding another notch to an already bad morning. He glanced at his watch and saw there was no way he was going to make it in time for roll call, so, when he got back to his vehicle, he would radio Florence and let her know he was going to be late, and to have Prentiss, one of his deputy sheriffs, to begin without him.

Twenty-five?! Lily gasped in disbelief. Chandra, you said you were only going a couple of miles over the limit! Lily immediately opened her glove compartment, and nervously searched for her insurance card.

Who you gonna believe, Aunt Lily, me or some cop? Chandra asked in a huff.

Through clenched teeth, Lily said, Be quiet and get your permit out of your purse, now. We’ll discuss this later. She found her insurance card from the glove compartment and handed it to Mac. I’m so sorry about this, Officer.

Sheriff, ma’am, Mac corrected. I’m a sheriff.

That’s your problem, Chandra snickered.

Chandra, I said be quiet, Lily ordered.

This time it was Mac that snickered.

Chandra rolled her eyes at her aunt as she produced her driver’s permit and handed it to Mac.

Mac silently examined both documents. I see this is a learner’s permit, he said. Looking at Lily, he said, Ms. Greenwood, are you a licensed driver?

Yes, I am, Lily answered.

Then I’ll need to see your license, he said.

Yes, of course. She reached in the back seat for her purse and began looking through it for her wallet until she found her license and handed it to him. We’ve been driving nonstop for the past two days trying to get to Lindsay, it’s a small town right outside of Creedmoor.

Yes, I know where it is, Mac said as he examined Lily’s driver’s license. He noticed all the luggage and a few, large taped boxes, and wanted to ask what their business was in Lindsay, but knew she wasn’t obligated to divulge that information. Instead, he said, I see you’re from New York.

Yeah, that’s right, Deputy Fife. Is that a crime, too? Chandra flippantly asked.

It’s Sheriff Trainer, Mac corrected in a tone a lot calmer than he wanted.

Chandra, I told you to be quiet, Lily warned.

Again, Chandra rolled her eyes as she leaned back in her seat and defiantly stared ahead.

Mac had to give the aunt credit for getting her niece’s mouth under control. Please stay in your seats, he instructed, and he returned to his cruiser to verify the data on the two licenses. He slid into his seat, removed his shades again, and entered the information into the computer, and when the information came back clear, he returned to the jeep, handed them their licenses, and against his better judgment said, I’m going to let you go with a warning this time, he told Chandra, who continued to show defiance by pretending to ignore him and pop her gum even louder. But just to let you know, if you’re pulled over again for the same violation while in Granville County, you will be ticketed. Do you understand?

Yes, Sheriff, we understand, Lily answered in Chandra’s stead. When she saw the look of nonchalance on her niece’s face, Lily decided it was time to show Miss Chandra she could be just as hard when pushed. As a matter of fact, my niece’s driving privileges have just been revoked. Let’s switch, she ordered.

Chandra’s stare of defiance turned to one of disbelief as she looked at her aunt. What?! You can’t do that?! That’s not fair! she whined.

I said let’s switch, Lily said with a hint of anger in her voice. I’m driving.

Chandra leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms at her chest. No. You said I could drive as far as the house, and you can’t go back on your word.

I can do anything I want, Lily countered. This is my vehicle, and I warned you, if you broke the driving rules, you would forfeit your driving privileges until I decided otherwise. She gave Chandra a look that said the subject was no longer