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Jake Miller Ii:: The Millennial Mob
Jake Miller Ii:: The Millennial Mob
Jake Miller Ii:: The Millennial Mob
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Jake Miller Ii:: The Millennial Mob

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JAKE MILLER II: The Millennial Mob, starts out with Jake's sister innocently asking Jake to look into why her daughter's friend got beat up at the shore. He discovers it involves drug dealers. The situation qucikly escalates into chapter after chapter of murders, assassination attempts, explosions, drug deals, stakeouts, near death experiences, car bombs, more murders, and frame ups. This book is a follow-up to Jake Miller, and just like the first book, you'll find it tough to put this one down, and even tougher to figure out 'who-done-it?'
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateSep 18, 2022
ISBN9781665570572
Jake Miller Ii:: The Millennial Mob
Author

Bill Mack

Bill grew up and spent his working career in Philadelphia, before moving to the Jersey Shore, after he retired. He always had a passion for crime novels, television shows, and movies. He also has a desire to create a crime novel around a character who was an unquestioned hero, but who also has many of the same flaws that normal, everyday people have. The result is, hopefully, a fast-paced, entertaining read, that you can't put down, and will keep you guessing until the last page.

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    Book preview

    Jake Miller Ii: - Bill Mack

    JAKE

    MILLER II:

    THE MILLENNIAL MOB

    BILL MACK

    45877.png

    AuthorHouse™

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 833-262-8899

    © 2022 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 09/15/2022

    ISBN: 978-1-6655-7058-9 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-6655-7056-5 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-6655-7057-2 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2022916887

    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 31

    Chapter 32

    CHAPTER 1

    J ake awoke to thunder and rain. The clock said 5:10 a.m. As he sat up and stretched, he hoped that Cecily Tynan of Action News had been right the night before when she’d said that the rain would stop by sunrise. He left the light off as he made his way to the bathroom. He hoped to make it there without waking up Assault and Battery, his Labrador retrievers, one yellow and one chocolate.

    The first thing he saw when he entered the hallway were four green eyes shining in the darkness. Then he heard the banging of two tails against the wall.

    So much for getting to the bathroom without you mutts, he said as he flipped the light switch. Now it was on! The morning ritual in which two eighty-pound, five-year-old labs jumped around like puppies and ran to the front door to go out.

    Don’t you guys ever get tired of doing that? Let’s go. Out!

    When Jake came into the living room, the dogs were sitting at attention like soldiers. They knew the drill: half a treat on the way out the door; check the perimeter for uninvited guests like the Murphy’s cat, Sinbad; do your business; and then sit at attention on the porch and wait for Jake to come out with his coffee—and the other halves of the treats. The whole process took about ten minutes. Jake often wondered how long it seemed in dog time.

    This morning, Jake came out with something extra—two dog towels. Since it was drizzling, the animals would have to be dried off before they could enter the house again. It was one of Mary’s rules. After Jake put the towels on the little table on the porch, he sat down to drink his coffee and plan his day. It was May 11, a year since Mary had gone away and a chain of events had started that caused Jake’s whole world to turn upside down.

    This time last year, he had been Detective Jake Miller, married to his high school sweetheart. Now he was a widower, and his partner, Sonny Burns, had taken his wife’s life, then his own. Fatso Lachowicz was killed in an auto accident that left his partner, Wilt King, crippled and fighting for his life. And Hector Chuck Alvarez had been beaten so badly that he put his papers in and left the force, as did the squad lieutenant, Art Kaufman. He had a heart attack and had lost enough, so he ended his thirty-five-year career and retired. Jake was now Lieutenant Jake Miller, running the Major Crimes Division of the Cape May Courthouse, New Jersey, Police Department. He had six detectives working under him. He was now Lou to Regina Kari Weaver; her partner Sean Kelly; Randy Calhoun, who had transferred over from vice the previous summer; his partner, Greg Harris; Jim Lenahan; and Roger Anderson. But Jake was not going to work today.

    He was up early on this Friday morning because he planned to travel up to Philly and visit Mary’s grave on the anniversary of her death. Jake’s thoughts returned to the here and now when he heard his neighbor, Roger, shutting his car door. He was on his way out to church. Roger went to six o’clock mass every day. Jake looked at his watch; it was 5:40 a.m.

    I’m never gonna get out of here by six if I keep sitting here daydreaming, he said to the dogs. Let’s go.

    After he had knelt and wiped their paws, bellies, ears, and backs, he looked back and forth at each of the dogs and said, "What are you waiting for? I’m not gonna wipe your butts. This prompted a kiss attack on each cheek. OK, OK. I love you. Let’s go in." As he gathered his things and made a coffee for the road, he continued talking to the dogs, who followed him from room to room. Finally, when he was ready to go, he gave each of them a treat, told them that they were going to Phil’s today, and to behave. Phil was the owner of Phil’s Doggie Day Care where Assault and Battery had spent many days while Jake and Mary were at work.

    Jake checked the clock when he started the car—6:04 a.m. Not bad. Phil would arrive at the house around seven to pick up the dogs. And Jake would be over the Walt Whitman Bridge around the same time, hopefully just ahead of the morning rush. As he waited to make a right onto Bay Shore Road, he started to squint because the rain had stopped. And the sun was breaking through the clouds. Way to go, Cecily!

    CHAPTER 2

    I t was an uneventful ride, and Jake did indeed get on I-95 North just ahead of the morning rush. As he pulled into the cemetery at about 7:45, he noticed his sister, Maggie, getting out of her car to pay her respects. Maggie had called Jake a week earlier to suggest that they meet at Mary’s grave and then go out for breakfast afterward before she headed off to work. Upon exiting his royal blue Ford F-150, he called out to her, Hey, Sis! Maggie met him and gave him a huge hug.

    Hi, Jimmy! It’s great to see you! Since Jake’s mother passed, in the early 2000’s, his sister Maggie was the only person who called him by his given name. He never knew why his dad started calling him Jake, when he was 5 years old, but he liked that nickname, and that’s what he wanted everyone to call him…except his sister Maggie. Her calling him Jimmy was a special thing between them, and Jake liked it that way.

    You too, Sis. You look great! They walked arm in arm to Mary’s grave. Maggie flashed her brother an ear-to-ear grin. What’s up, Mags? Why the grin?

    Nothing special. I was just thinking how perfectly right on time you always are. And I couldn’t help but remember how Mom used to pull her hair out when she was getting you up in the morning so we could go to wherever we were going. I don’t think we were ever on time for anything. Dad always had to threaten you to get you to finally move your butt. You had to be the biggest procrastinator ever!

    Yeah, Pop never laid a hand on either of us, but when he raised his voice … You know, Sis, we had the best parents!

    Amen to that, Bro.

    They spent the next twenty minutes manicuring the gravesite. Jake policed the area, picking up the leaves and debris that had collected. And Maggie planted the geraniums she had brought with her.

    When they returned to their cars, Jake suggested the Country Club Diner for breakfast. It was on the way to Fox Chase Cancer Center where Maggie worked, and he knew that she loved eating there.

    After settling in with coffee and ordering their breakfast, Jake asked, So how are you?

    I’m fine. How about you? You still seeing that lawyer?

    Sam? Nah. That wasn’t anything serious. We just went out a couple of times. She was a little too ‘clingy’ for me.

    That’s a shame. She seemed nice.

    She is nice, but we wanted different things, you know. What about you? Anybody in the picture romantically for you?

    No. I work all the time. Last time I went on a date was … wow! I don’t remember.

    C’mon, Sis! Get out there. You’re a catch!

    Yeah, I’ll work on that, she said as she laughed. She then turned a bit more serious. Jimmy, can I ask a favor?

    Maggie, you can ask anything, and you got it.

    Well, it’s not for me really; it’s for your niece.

    Katie? She got a problem?

    "No. I don’t think so. That is, besides you not calling her by her given name—Kathleen—like I’ve asked you to do a million times."

    "Sorry, Sis. I’ll do better, I promise. What’s up with Kathleen?"

    She came home from Wildwood last Sunday night and seemed really upset. I asked what was wrong, and she said one of her friends was beaten up really badly down there.

    Sis, you know how it is down there. Kids are out clubbing; all the guys have liquid muscles; and all the girls are flirting. It doesn’t take much for a ruckus to start.

    I know. So does she. But I think this was something different. All I could get out of her was that they went to the beach on Sunday. When they got back to their rental, some guys came up and beat Dave up. It was so bad the ER docs kept him at Burdette Hospital so they could check him out.

    Really? Did the guys touch anybody else?

    I don’t think so. Do you think you can talk to her and find out what happened? She’s afraid to go back down to Wildwood.

    Wait. They have a place for the whole summer, don’t they?

    Yeah.

    OK. Is she working today?

    She’s done at noon.

    Well, I’ll call her after we finish here and take her for a late lunch.

    Thanks, Jimmy.

    After they had eaten, paid the check, and said their good-byes, Jake grabbed his phone, opened up his contacts, and hit the one marked Katie. After three rings, she picked up.

    Uncle Jake! What’s wrong?

    You sound just like your mom. Why does something have to be wrong? Can’t a guy just call his favorite niece to say hi without there being some major catastrophe?

    Oh, wait. You were talking to Mom, weren’t you? She told you what happened to my friend Dave, didn’t she? She swore that she wouldn’t say anything to you!

    "OK. Let’s settle down. Your mom is worried about you and said you’re afraid to go down the Shore. She just asked if I could look into what happened and see if it’s something to worry about. Or if it’s just a typical Jersey Shore fist fight that got out of control. She said you get done with work at noon, and I know you’re not headed down there. So how about I swing by your place at about one o’clock and we go get something to eat. If you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t."

    OK, Uncle J, but no lunch. I’m not hungry, and you and Mom probably went to the Country Club, so you won’t be either. We’ll go out for a drink.

    What! What kind of a guy do you think I am? You think that I’d take my fifteen-year-old niece out drinking?

    Katie couldn’t help but laugh. I haven’t been fifteen for ten years, and I could probably drink you under the table.

    Well, we might just see about that. Pick you up at one?

    Sure.

    Later …

    Jake picked up his niece and drove to The Post Office Café on Bridge Street because the food there was excellent—in case they got hungry—and he would most likely bump into some people he knew. After they got seats at the bar, Jake ordered a Bud Lite, and Katie ordered some craft beer that Jake couldn’t pronounce but was all the rage. Jake began. So, how are you? You’re working for that new veterinarian on Frankford Avenue near Cottman, right? How’s that going?

    Good, Uncle J. I really like it. I’ve got one and a half more years of school, and hopefully I’ll be opening up my own place.

    That’s great! You’ll be a veterinarian, and by then my mutts will be getting old, and you’ll treat them for free!

    Absolutely. How are the two dogs with the worst names in history?

    "They’re fine. Got me trained good. In fact, since you’re coming down the Shore every weekend, you could stop by my place and see for yourself whenever you like. You are coming down the Shore on weekends, right?"

    Maybe, Uncle J. With school and work, you know, I don’t have as much free time as I thought I would when I went in on the house down there.

    Really? How much was the place for the summer?

    Twelve thousand.

    How many of you went in on it?

    Me and my friends Tiffany, Harley, and Dave.

    Three girls and a guy?

    Yeah, we wanted all girls, but we couldn’t find a fourth, and the three of us couldn’t afford it.

    So, you spent three thousand out of your pocket and you’ve been down there, what, twice? And you’re gonna throw all that money away because you have homework? C’mon, Katie, remember who you’re talking to. Fess up.

    OK. I might be scared to go back down there after what happened to Dave.

    "What did happen to Dave? No. Wait. First of all, who is Dave?"

    Dave Hruzak. He says you grew up with his dad, Paul.

    Yeah, we went to grade school at Saint George’s together. We hung out some but weren’t real close. So, what kind of guy is Dave?

    He’s a real nerdy guy, Unc. He might still be a virgin.

    Oh. And you’re not?

    Uncle Jake, I’m twenty-five years old, and this is about Dave. I’m just saying that he’s a wimpy little guy.

    OK. Why did this wimpy little guy get the crap kicked out of him?

    I don’t know. We had gone down in two cars, because Tiffany and I wanted to come home earlier than Harley and Dave. We had just got back to the house from the beach, when these three guys came around the corner and just started wailing on Dave. Harley tried to stop them, and she got a backhand for her efforts.

    Did any of them put their hands on you, or threaten you?

    No, they didn’t threaten me, per se—

    Per se? What the hell does that mean?

    Well, after the attackers were finished with Dave, the one who was, like, the leader, I guess, said if we called the cops, they knew where we lived, and we’d get it worse than Dave.

    Wait, they called him by his name?

    Yeah. He said, ‘If you bitches say anything, we’ll come back here and fuck you up worse than we did Davey-boy here.

    How did they beat him up? One guy, or all three? Did they use their hands? Did they have a weapon?

    One guy—the main guy—walked up and hit Dave in the ribs with an aluminum baseball bat. Dave fell against the car and then rolled onto the ground. At that point, all three just started punching and kicking him.

    What happened after they left?

    We put Dave in the car and drove him to the hospital.

    And you didn’t call the police?

    No. We were scared. Katie’s eyes began to fill with tears.

    "Katie. Why didn’t you call me?"

    "Well, you are the police. And we were scared, like I said."

    So there was no report filed?

    Well, yeah. The nurse at the ER asked us what happened, and we said he fell down the stairs, but she didn’t believe us. So she called the cops. They showed up, and they got Dave to tell them what had happened. That’s why I don’t want to go down there—because these guys said they would know if anyone called the cops, and I didn’t want to get beat up like Dave. Kathleen was sobbing now. I’m sorry, Uncle Jake.

    "It’s all right, Kate. You didn’t do anything wrong. But, you have to go back down there!"

    No, Uncle J. I can’t. Those guys will come after us!

    Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? Have I ever broken a promise to you?

    No. Kate sniffed into her paper napkin.

    OK. I promise that these clowns are not going to lay one hand on any of you—ever! First of all, I’m going to call my friend, Lieutenant John Baker, over in North Wildwood. He’ll make sure a squad car drives by your rental every fifteen minutes twenty-four/seven. Second, does the rental allow pets?

    What? Yeah, but any pet damage comes out of our escrow. Why?

    Well, you don’t think I’m gonna leave the dogs with the absolute worst names ever all alone at my place while I’m staying at your place, do you?

    It was decided that the friends would skip the upcoming weekend, but the next weekend, they would go down as usual, except that they would stop at Uncle Jake’s on the way.

    Jake then asked a little more about Dave Hruzak. "Hey, look. It’s after three, and I’m not driving home in all that traffic, so I think I’m gonna give your mom a treat and stay the night. Since I’m gonna be here, I want you to get hold of Dave. I’d like to talk to him. Maybe find out what caused this. One thing I do know, Kate, is this wasn’t some random beat down. They came after nerdy Dave for a reason. So why don’t you call him and see if he can join us?"

    Oh, he’d love that. He’s got a crush on me.

    He does, does he? Good, then he’ll come. Give him a call.

    I don’t know. I don’t have any feelings for him, and I don’t want to lead him on or anything.

    OK. How about this? You call him, and when he answers, you give the phone to me. I’ll invite him, and you’ll be off the hook.

    Dave Hruzak answered after the first ring. Kate put the phone on speaker. Kathleen? This is a pleasant surprise.

    Hi, Dave. Just wanted to see how you are feeling.

    Oh, I’m fine. Other than a few stitches and some bruises, I have two cracked ribs. They bother me the most, but I’m OK.

    That’s good. Listen, Dave, I’m at the Post Office with my uncle Jake. You want to come around and have a drink, and meet my uncle?

    Your uncle, the ex–Navy SEAL? Uh … I don’t know.

    Come on, Dave! He doesn’t bite! I’m asking you to come out for a drink, and you’re turning me down?

    No! No. I’ll be there in five minutes.

    Jake laughed, and said, It just comes naturally to you women doesn’t it? How you know just what to say to get a guy to do just what you want?

    Dave Hruzak was exactly as advertised—a skinny little nerdy guy with an obvious crush on Kate. After introductions were made and drinks were ordered, Jake wasted little time asking about the beating. So, Dave, you know these guys, right?

    No, Mr. Miller, never saw them before.

    First of all, it’s Jake, and are you sure you don’t know them? They seemed to know you. They called you by name.

    They did? I didn’t notice. I was so scared that I really don’t remember much about it.

    "Let’s try this. Any idea why these guys came after you? Have you had a beef with anybody lately?"

    No, Jake. I’m twenty-three years old, and I’ve never even been in a real fight. I get nervous just talking to a girl. No way I’d get into an argument.

    Well, let me see if I have it right—three guys you never saw before decided to find a random guy and beat him with a baseball bat. They randomly chose your house and said ‘We’ll wait here and beat up whoever lives here.’ And then when you came home, they randomly guessed your name. Is that what you want me to believe?

    I guess—

    You guess? Jake could feel the anger building up, and he tried to control it. Well, Dave, I don’t guess. I look at facts and make deductions. Fact number one: there was nothing random about this. Fact number two: This was a message beating. What that means is that it was meant to hurt and scare you, not incapacitate you. Do you have any idea how much damage they could do to you with a bat? They could destroy your knees, bust every bone in your face, and leave you paralyzed. But, instead, they hit you once in the ribs and punched you for about ten seconds and then left. Is that about right?

    I don’t know—

    Jake slammed his palm on the bar, drawing the attention of the bartender, who turned his back and moved as far away as he could. "Here’s what I’ve deduced from these facts: You got yourself in debt to somebody. I don’t know whether it’s money or drugs or something else, and I don’t care. You owe some bad guy, and you didn’t pay whatever it is you owe, so he sent you a message, to entice you to pay him back."

    "No! I don’t know what you talking about."

    Jake grabbed the young man by his throat. Listen, you little punk—

    Uncle Jake! Stop!

    Stay out of this, Katie! Jake focused again on Dave. Now you listen, when I let go of you, I’m gonna ask you what happened, and if you lie to me, I’ll show you what a real beating is. With that he released his grip.

    OK, OK!

    Good. Now, who beat you up?

    I don’t know his real name. I know him as Angel. I only met him one time, I swear.

    Good. Now, why did Angel beat you up?

    I owe him money.

    For what? Dave was sobbing now. Shhhhh. It’s gonna be all right, Dave. Tell me why you owed this Angel money.

    It was the first weekend we went down. Re-remember, Kathleen, I went out Saturday afternoon?

    Yes. You wanted to check out the area.

    Yeah, well I went to this bar around the corner—the Anchor Inn. They had a pool table there, and this guy, Angel, and his buddies were playing. They were real friendly and asked me if I wanted to play.

    Jake shook his head. Let me guess. At first, you were winning, playing for a dollar or two. Then, after you got ahead some, they raised the stakes, and before you knew it you owed him—what?

    Five hundred dollars.

    Which, of course, you didn’t have.

    Right.

    So Angel, being a nice guy, gave you a week to pay, but it would be, what, six hundred?

    No. He told me if I took a package up to Philly and delivered it to a guy, he’d forget about the five hundred.

    So, you delivered his drugs for him, and—

    And I called him to tell him it was delivered, and he said to bring a backpack with me this week ‘cause, from now on, the packages would be bigger.

    And you said no.

    Of course I did. I told him that the deal was to drop off that package, and that was it. He said that I had misunderstood him. He said that he could send it Fed-Ex for twenty dollars, so why would he forgive my five-hundred-dollar debt for one delivery? He said I owed him four hundred eighty dollars—twenty-four more deliveries. When I said that would be the whole summer, he said that was OK.

    But it wasn’t OK with you.

    No! Of course not. I told him no way.

    What did he say?

    He said I should rethink that decision, and he expected me to meet him at the Anchor Inn last Saturday afternoon at three.

    But you didn’t go. Dave, what were you thinking? Did you think this guy was just gonna go ‘Oh, well, I’ll get somebody else?’

    Well, yeah. I just figured I could call his bluff, and he would find somebody else.

    The hundred-and-fifty-pound guy who’s never even had a real fight was gonna bluff the drug dealer? How did you intend to do that?

    Dave’s voice tailed off as he said I told him mmfmmphmm—

    What? You told him what?

    I told him that if he tried anything, he’d have to deal with my girlfriend’s Navy SEAL uncle.

    You told him he’d have to deal with me?

    Wait! interrupted Kate. You told him I was your girlfriend?

    Well, you could be, if you wanted—

    Very touching, Dave. Now let me tell you something. Guys like Angel—they can’t let anything go. In their business, that’s a sign of weakness, and if they’re weak, they won’t be in business long. Have you heard from Angel since the beating?

    Kind of.

    Kind of?

    Well, he’s called my cell about a dozen times, but I don’t answer.

    OK. I don’t want to scare you, but you have to be on your toes. He has your cell number. That means he can get your address. If you don’t answer him, you can expect him or one of his boys to show up here looking for you. That’s why you have to call him back—today! Tell him your doctor said you can’t drive this week, so you won’t be down this weekend, but you’ll bring a backpack with you next Saturday.

    No way! I don’t want to deal with this guy anymore.

    "Relax Dave. You were right about one thing. Angel is gonna have to deal with me now. Kate is gonna text you my cell. You go home now and call Angel. Tell him what I told you. Then you call me and tell me what he said. OK?"

    Yeah, sure.

    After about thirty seconds of silence, Jake said Dave, exactly what part of ‘go home now’ didn’t you understand?

    Oh, you meant right now. OK. Bye, Kathleen.

    And with that Jake was alone with his niece again. Thanks, Uncle Jake.

    For what? I didn’t do anything.

    For getting involved. Dave really needs some help.

    Are you kidding? What kind of guy do you think I am? You think I’m gonna stand by and watch my favorite niece’s boyfriend get hurt?

    He’s not my boyfriend!

    Hey, he could be family someday. The father of my favorite great niece or nephew.

    Ewwwww! Uncle Jake!

    With a laugh, Jake ordered another round.

    At around four that afternoon, a couple of Kathleen’s friends came in and asked her if she wanted to go to The Borgata to see Bruno Mars. They had an extra ticket. While her face lit up like a Christmas tree, she realized she’d have to ditch her uncle, and choosing between Bruno and Uncle J was an easy choice. I’d love to go, Tammy, but—

    Jake cut her off. But only if you guys let me pay for the gas, parking, and first drink. He slid a hundred-dollar bill across the bar to them.

    Really, Uncle Jake? You don’t mind?

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