Best Intentions

By William Nolan

School teacher Anthony Millers life is turned upside down when the verdict in a murder trial comes back with a resounding not guilty. As the only witness to an unspeakable crime he decides to follow his moral obligation and go to the authorities. This begins a twisted game of murder, deception, and betrayal that spans from San Francisco to a small New England beach town, forever changing the lives of those involved.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Mar 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483424316

William Nolan

William Nolan is a born & bred Bostonian whose passions include travel, cycling, and writing. A graduate of Boston College and Lesley University, he recently retired from elementary education after a rewarding career as a teacher and counselor. Living with his wife on Cape Cod, he has two daughters, one granddaughter, three step children, and a Siberian husky.

Book preview

verdict.

CHAPTER 1

I nspector Pierce drove along the highway, heading toward Cape Cod. He had been a U.S. Marshal for twenty years. His lean athletic build was the end result of religious visits to the gym that the 45 year old was committed to. His job demanded him keeping in the best shape possible. The scar on his cheek was a constant reminder of just how important that was.

Anthony Miller sat next to him. He was a tall, muscular 40 year old with chiseled features, a thick crop of brown hair, and cobalt blue eyes. He was dressed in jeans, a white oxford shirt, navy v-neck sweater, and a black sports coat.

You haven’t said a word since we picked the car up at the airport, Pierce said. How long are you going to hold onto this shit?

Miller looked straight ahead and said nothing.

OK, Pierce said. Stay pissed. I get it. You did your civic duty and got screwed for your efforts. You were witness to Nicholas Delgado shooting two men. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time but did the right thing. Your testimony should have put the fucker away forever but didn’t. Now you’re in the witness protection program. I’m sorry. Try embracing the crap. Think of it as a bad situation with some potential good.

Miller didn’t respond.

Let me ask you this, Pierce said. Could you have lived with yourself remaining silent?

Given the way things have turned out, yeah, I think so.

Pierce tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

Truth be told, given Delgado’s connections, he probably would have found out about you regardless and put a bullet in your head for the hell of it.

And that’s supposed to comfort me?

Pierce adjusted the rear view mirror.

Big sacrifices, he said, and we appreciate it. You’ve had to leave friends and family behind. They can’t know where you are under any circumstances. That’s a tough one to wrap your head around. On the up side, the relocation is a sweet one and we have a teaching position all set up for you at a private school in town. Try looking at the glass as half full.

So you’re saying just smile and reinvent myself?

As I’ve told you before, we can’t retry Delgado for the murder he got off on, given double jeopardy, but if the other man he shot dies, then the attempted murder charge he also got off on will become a murder charge and we’ll haul his ass back into court. You’ll testify again, this time he’ll be found guilty and sent away, and you’ll be free to start up your old life.

I had a teaching career along with friends and family back in San Francisco!

Pierce looked at Miller.

I know. What can I say? Shit happens.

Miller dropped his head back against the car seat, sighed, and said, Look, I get that you’ve tried making the best of a tough situation for me and I do appreciate it. I don’t know that I’ll be willing to testify against Delgado again if things go that way but we can figure that out if and when it happens.

Pierce nodded.

Fair enough, he said.

The two drove on, again in silence.

***

Cedar Cove was the quintessential ocean side New England town, a short distance from Boston. Its main street followed the perimeter of the village’s small harbor; a picturesque inlet filled with yachts and schooners during the summer months. To define the municipality as affluent would be an understatement, Miller thought. As they drove down the hill into his new world, he appreciated the panoramic view of the Atlantic in front of him. The three block downtown area caressed the ocean’s edge and was filled with high end shops. Just past this tiny commercial section, the trophy homes began. You’re not in Kansas anymore, he thought. Forced life changes continued to be infuriating but he allowed himself a moment to appreciate the beauty and tranquility of his new home.

They stopped for a quick bite in town before continuing onto the house. Miller inhaled the fresh, clean scent of salty air as he got out of the car. For the first time in weeks he smiled.

The counter inside the restaurant had stools for ten and five booths. A nautical theme was tastefully present throughout the diner, as lobster traps hung from the walls and maritime maps, protected by plexiglass, covered each of the tabletops. The two men sat at the counter. A waitress in a retro beige uniform cheerfully took their order.

They both chose the fish & chips with cups of coffee. It was good food made great by their level of hunger.

So how long have you been a U.S. Marshal? Miller said between bites.

A long time.

Miller studied Pierce’s face as he sipped his coffee.

Something on your mind? the inspector asked.

What’s the story with that scar on your cheek?

Pierce took a bite of his sandwich before responding.

It’s a long story.

Care to share?

Another time.

Not good lunchtime conversation?

Pierce didn’t respond.

They ate some more of their meal in silence before the inspector spoke.

I like your new clean shaven look. No beard, no mustache, good haircut. A very different thing from when you were back in San Francisco. That can only help.

I’m still getting used to it. Every morning, a stranger looks back at me in the mirror.

They finished their meals and left.

His new home was only a few minutes away. He was apprehensive, not knowing what to expect, but figured the worst in this town was probably far better than anything he’d ever experienced. Turning into the driveway, Miller was pleasantly surprised by the charm of the secluded small half Cape set in the middle of a densely wooded lot.

Welcome to your new sanctuary, Pierce said.

Miller could hear waves breaking on the beach just a block away as he closed his car door.

I have to admit, this is much better than I expected.

They went inside. The first floor of the house was open; its living room, dining room, and kitchen all flowing seamlessly into one another. Wide pine floors and beamed ceilings added rustic charm to the place, as did the mission style leather furniture.

The men sat in the living room after looking at the two bedrooms and full bath upstairs.

It’s now time to put things to the test, Pierce said. We’ve supplied all the documentation necessary and gone over everything possible with you for more than a week while we finished up making the arrangements here. I am still concerned you wouldn’t let us change your name on the IDs.

I’ve lost a lot but I refuse to give up my name. Anyway, it shouldn’t be a problem. From what I found online, Miller is the seventh most common last name in the United States. There are over a million of us.

I get it, Pierce said. Anyway, school begins in a few days. There’s precious little time to settle in before starting up as a fourth grade teacher at Grace Academy.

Just out of curiosity, why did the program set me up with such an exclusive school in such an upscale community?

Pierce laughed.

This isn’t a good thing?

No, it’s not that, but I’m an inner city kind of guy and now I’ll be teaching kids whose allowances are probably larger than my salary. It’s going to take some getting used to.

Let’s just say it was a doable arrangement. You’ll be fine. I’ve seen your teaching credentials. Just throw yourself into it and try letting go of the past.

Half an hour later, Pierce called a cab. Miller was keeping the long-term car rental. A taxi arrived twenty minutes later. The two men walked out to it and shook hands.

Mr. Miller, it’s been a pleasure.

That sounds kind of final. You’ll be in touch?

As I’ve mentioned before, not for a while and not very often. It’s for your own good. If an emergency comes up; call the number I gave you. If not, just live your life. Good luck, and again, I’m sorry for the sacrifices you’ve had to make.

With that, Pierce got in the cab and drove away.

Miller stood in the middle of the driveway, feeling more alone than he ever had in his life.

CHAPTER 2

N icolas Delgado sat in the back office of his restaurant in North Beach, San Francisco, drinking a glass of wine while eating lunch.

Leaning down to pick up his napkin, his belly rolled over his belt. The fifty-five year old loosened it a notch, unbuttoned his pants, and touched his comb-over to see if his few remaining hairs were adequately covering up the baldness. He knew people thought his appearance was comical but liked using this to his advantage, as those who underestimated him were caught off guard when his manic rage took center stage. It often did.

Raymond Stark sat across from him in silence. He was a good deal younger, tall and muscular, with an intimidating presence. A gold pierced earring, the tattoo on his neck, and his shining shaved head made people take notice.

Nothing can make one appreciate the little things in life more than the potential loss of them, Delgado said.

The gods were on your side, Stark said. I am curious. Why take care of business yourself? You have people for that.

Delgado’s facial muscles tensed.

Those two shits worked for me. I was their goddamned mentor! Showed them all the ropes, treated them like family, and they said thanks by going after my business. Damned right, I handled the job myself.

So much for not letting your emotions get the best of you, Stark said as he looked at his watch. So what can I do for you?

Sorry. Is there some pressing engagement I’m keeping you from? You ask what to do? How about your fucking job! I hired you to find this goddamned witness but he’s just dropped off the face of the earth?

Seems to be the case. My guess is the cops are hiding him.

Delgado slammed his fist down on the table, knocking over the half-empty wine glass. It shattered on the floor, leaving a red puddle behind.

Of course the cops are hiding him, you stupid…

Enough! Stark said, holding up his hand. Why do you even care about this guy? The verdict was innocent thanks to my work with the jury.

Delgado took in a deep breath.

The compensation for that was more than adequate, he said. I believe in settling scores, and who knows what the cops have up their sleeves. One of the two pricks I shot is in a coma. They tried me for attempting to kill him, but if he dies, my lawyer says they’ll go after me for murder. Anthony Miller needs a funeral. Plain and simple. Understood?

If they have the guy in some kind of witness protection program, locating him is going to be nearly impossible. He could be anywhere.

You’re not up to the task?

Maybe it can’t be done.

Delgado slowly stood up and walked over to Stark, carrying the dinner knife he had just finished using. He pulled up a chair next to him, sat down, and draped his arm over the man’s shoulder.

Listen to me, my friend. We are going to find Anthony Miller, regardless of the risks involved. What about his family? Are there any living here in San Francisco?

If the guy is in the program, his family won’t know where he is. That’s how it works.

But somebody knows where the prick is. I’m sure our missing witness was told not to contact anyone, but when it comes to family and sentimentality, people tend to slip.

Delgado waved the knife in front of the man’s face as he spoke.

Stark started laughing.

Now I’m really scared, he said.

Delgado, irritated, moved the knife closer.

In the right hands, it could do considerable damage.

Stark pushed it away.

It’s not in the right hands. This kind of bullshit might work with some of your thugs but not with me. I’ll do what I can, but not because of your threats. It’s all about the money.

Delgado smiled but said nothing.

With lightning speed, Stark grabbed the knife from Delgado and pushed it up against Delgado’s throat. He held it there for several seconds, pressing the blade firmly against his skin with nearly enough force to draw blood before dropping the knife on the floor and walking out of the room without saying a word.

Delgado was momentarily stunned but quickly recovered and calmly picked up the phone. Someone answered before the second ring.

Eugene, the man who just left my office; you see him?

Yeah, I do.

He’s good, but so are you. Follow him, and when the opportunity is right, kill the bastard. Then report back to me. There’s someone I want you to find and the money will be very good.

My pleasure, Eugene said before disconnecting.

Delgado knelt down and picked up the dinner knife from the floor. While on his knees, he suddenly erupted and repeatedly thrust the blade into the chair where the man had just been sitting. Though dull, the knife cut through the upholstery. Delgado repeated this over and over again before standing up and throwing the chair against his office wall, roaring as he did so. After regaining composure, he picked up the phone again and talked to his maitre-de out front.

Tell mother I’ll be ready for our daily walk in a few minutes.

Of course, sir.

Did she finish her lunch?

And then some.

Excellent.

Disconnecting, he took a flower from the arrangement on his desk for his mother and left the room.

CHAPTER 3

W hen he first woke in the morning, Miller momentarily forgot where he was. Then reality hit hard. He got up and headed for the bathroom. Looking in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, he once again was surprised by the clean cut transformation reflecting back at him.

Miller dressed in jeans and a sweat shirt, had coffee and scrambled eggs while watching the news on TV, and did some picking up around the kitchen. He appreciated the well-stocked refrigerator Inspector Pierce had supplied him with.

It was a beautiful September morning. Miller headed outside to enjoy the sunshine and temperatures in the sixties. He walked to the beach a block away and started wandering aimlessly along the ocean’s edge. For a brief bit of time, he forgot about his troubles and soaked in the tranquility around him. Soon, though, thoughts of life challenges, past and present, started creeping into his consciousness.

I’d like to be taking this walk with Julia, he thought. They’d had a long term relationship back in San Francisco that ended two years ago. His current complications from testifying against Nicholas Delgado had nothing to do with their split. She had moved out, fearing their relationship would never evolve into marriage. Maybe she was right. He had loved her. She had loved him. That was not the question. They had talked a couple of times on the phone since breaking up but it was clear things would never progress. He heard she was with someone else now.

Miller walked the beach into town, found the restaurant he ate lunch at with Inspector Pierce the day before, and decided to get himself another cup of coffee while mingling with the locals. He found a stool at the counter. The waitress from yesterday approached him.

Still in town? she asked.

I’ve moved here.

She smiled.

Well, welcome to our little Shangri-La.

Thanks. I’ll just have some coffee.

She came back with coffee and a blueberry muffin.

Enjoy. It’s on us, she said. New guy in the neighborhood hospitality kind of thing.

Miller nodded a thank you.

I appreciate it, he said. You’ll probably be seeing a lot of me.

That would be nice, she said. So what brings you to our little corner of the world?

I’ll be teaching fourth grade over at Grace Academy.

"Good school. A few of the teachers come