JAKE MILLER

By Bill Mack

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.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798823010634

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.

Book preview

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 6th 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 26th, 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 hiring extra police, to handle the summer crush of visitors. These jobs, much like a summer shore house rental, typically started in May and ended soon after Labor Day. Jake was anything but typical. He was a natural for this kind of work. The Captain of the Cape May Courthouse Police Department took notice of how Jake handled himself during the times that they interacted with the Wildwood PD, and offered him a full-time position, as a patrolman, in Courthouse. As soon as Mary gave her blessing, Jake took the job, and on September 15th, 2002, he started his career in the Cape May County Police Department, and advancing to Detective in what many felt was a record time of 18 months. Lieutenant Kaufman welcomed him into the ‘family’ on April 20th, 2004.

Jake’s 1st, and only, partner, before Sonny Burns, was Archie Bailey, a 25-year veteran, who forgot more about being a Detective than most guys knew. They were a perfect team. In the eleven years they partnered, they had the most arrests, and convictions in the state, a remarkable nine times! But all good things come to an end, and Bailey turned in his shield, and retired to Florida at the end of 2015.

Lieutenant Kaufman introduced John Burns to the other five Detectives in the squad the Monday after New Year’s Day. Detective Burns is replacing Detective Miller’s partner, Detective Bailey, who as you all are aware, retired on the 31st of December. The plan is for Detective Burns to become a valuable asset to this squad, and as such, I’m counting on the rest of you Detectives to take him under your wings and show him the ropes. That’s all. Be safe out there.

Lieutenant Kaufman liked to say ‘Detective’.

Jake took John’s hand, and slapped him on the shoulder, and said Welcome aboard, Detective, and introduced him to the other four members of the squad.

See, there was a protocol in place for newbies. It was their partner’s job to introduce them to the other guys, and each person would shake the new guy’s hand, and tell him what their nickname was. That’s why the 1st guy you had to introduce them to was Simon Lachowicz, the nickname provider. Jake did just that. John, this is Simon Lachowicz.

The 5’9, 285 lb. Pollock grabbed his hand, and said, Call me Fatso, kid, and then to his partner, Jesus, Wilt, look at how young this kid is. Are you old enough to shave, Kid?"

Before Burns could answer, Fatso’s partner spoke up You’re right, Fatso. This kid’s young enough to be my son!

That’s it, Fatso announced, Sonny. That’s your name, from now on. Welcome to the squad, Sonny.

Jake said And this is Fatso’s partner, Jamal King.

Hi, Sonny, you can call me Wilt.

And this here is Hector Alvarez.

Welcome aboard, Sonny. It’s Chuck.

And finally, Sonny, this is Regina Weaver.

Nice to meet you, Sonny. You can call me Kari…and we’re all going to Flip Flops, in N. Wildwood, after shift, and the 1st round is on you. And before you say anything, attendance is mandatory…let’s head out Chuck.

When they got to their unmarked, Jake tossed Sonny the keys, and said "You might as well drive.

After they were on the road for a minute, John Burns said Jake, I don’t want to cause a problem, but I don’t want a nickname. Why can’t…

Let me stop you right there, Sonny. Fatso gave you that name. That’s your name now. Fatso gave everybody their nickname. There’s no do-over.

But…

No buts. Look, he nicknamed himself Fatso, so that nobody could get pissed off at the name he gave them.

Well, if that’s the way it is…why did everybody get the name they got?

Well, it’s Chuck, as in Norris, because Hector bragged on his 1st day that he has a black belt. And it’s Kari…as in karaoke. Why do you think we’re going to Flip Flops tonight, Karaoke from 8:00 to midnight, and she’ll be singing all night long. And Wilt, well that needs no explanation, right?

No, I don ‘t get it.

C’mon, Sonny. 6’5, 265 lb. Black man? Tall? Wilt!"

I still don’t get it.

Chamberlain!? The greatest basketball player ever? Wilt the Stilt Chamberlain?

Well, I’m not really into sports, so I’ll have to take your word on that.

What about you? Why did Fatso name you Jake?

Oh, he didn’t. I’ve been called Jake since I was a kid.

Wait! You said Fatso gives everybody a name, and…

"Well, Sonny, it’s like this. When Lou introduced me to the squad, he told them all that I was a decorated Navy Seal. Old Fatso thought a good name for me would be Froggy, since before they were called Seals, they were known as Frogmen. And so it was. But that night, when we went out, and, by the way, I can front you some cash If you need it, but you do have to buy the 1st round tonight. Anyway, about five minutes after I got there, I see Fatso going to the head, and I went with him. When we got inside, we had a discussion, and he agreed that Jake was a way better name for me."

A discussion?

"Yeah, discussion. It mainly consisted of me grabbing him by the throat, and ‘discussing’ with him that if he didn’t change my nickname to Jake, I was gonna rip his fat, ugly nose, off of his fat, ugly face, and shove it up his fat ass. End of story. Hey, don’t worry about your nickname. Sonny is a cool nickname. It could’ve been worse. With that red hair and those freckles, I woulda called you Opie.

Jake was snapped back to the present by Beverly, the Funeral Director, inviting the mourners back to Fran Lee Caterer’s for a luncheon. That was a good thing about the neighborhoods of the city. Even when you die, you can go from funeral Parlor to cemetery, to Catering Hall, and not travel two miles. It was about 2:00 p.m. when Jake motioned for Sonny, Wilt, and Fatso to join him at the bar. While the bartender was getting them drinks, he leaned in and said, What have you guys heard from the coroner?

It was Wilt who answered: Well, Jake, as you know, the cause of death was officially severe trauma, due to the explosion.

Then Fatso chimed in. Yeah, and that rat-bastard M.E. has been dragging his feet. He can’t determine whether it was accidental or a homicide. We can’t do a goddamn thing until he makes up his friggin’ mind.

Wait! Nobody’s investigating?

Wilt replied, Now, you should know better than that, Jake. Fatso here is just giving you the party line. I called in a favor from a friend with the FBI, and ‘borrowed’ one of their bomb-sniffing dogs the other day. She hit on a spot, right where the dishwasher was, and they said that was the source of the explosion. I sent some scrapings, that the dog liked, to the M.E., for them to check.

Dishwasher! spat out Fatso, The dishwasher exploded! You tell me how the hell that could be accidental, unless you had plates made out of C-4! I’d like to strangle that son of a bitch medical examiner, Jake.

Jake hushed him. Take it easy Fatso. Calm down. Hey, whose phone is vibrating?

Wilt answered, Mine. ‘Scuse me, I gotta take this.

Jake continued, Where was I? Oh, yeah, look, Lard ass, you been around longer than me. You know how this works. They wanna make sure they cover their asses with both hands before they make a decision like this.

Yeah, Jake, I know. I’m sorry for getting’ riled up, but Jake…Lard ass? Really? That hurts, Jake.

Fatso ordered another round, when Wilt walked back in, and said "Cancel that last order barkeep. Fatso, Sonny, let’s go. We have work to do. That phone call was from the ME office. The scrapings I took the other day had trace amounts of military-grade C4, and based on that, they made a decision… homicide."

As the 3 detectives headed for the car, to start the drive to South Jersey, Jake motioned for Sonny Burns to hang back a bit. As they walked, He said Sonny, I wanna thank you for putting me up at your place the last couple of weeks. Eleanor, too. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.

C’mon Jake, we were happy to do it. You’re my partner, for heaven’s sake.

No, no, Sonny, I know it was a big imposition, especially with those two mutts of mine.

Who, Assault and Battery? Jake, for being 80 lb. dogs, we don’t even know they’re there. Really, it’s no problem. You all can stay as long as you need to.

Well, I want you to know how grateful I am. And when I get back down, I’m gonna get out of your hair sooner, rather than later.

You’re not coming down tonight, Jake?

No, my sister asked me to stay up here with her for a couple of days. We don’t see nearly enough of each other. Call if you find out anything.

You know I will, Jake.

And Jake did know that he would. There was something …good…about Sonny. Yeah, in Jake’s opinion, Detective John Burns might be some Ritchie-Cunningham-looking, churchgoing, choirboy, who’d rather cut his own tongue out, than use one of the ‘Devil’s words’, and he might not know who Wilt Chamberlain is, but he was one hell of a cop. He could be, at times, recklessly brave, and he would take a bullet for anyone. Jake knew he was lucky to have him as a partner, and luckier still, to have him as a friend.

CHAPTER 2

J ake’s sister came downstairs on Tuesday morning, to find a dozen donuts, from Stock’s bakery (her favorite), and a large dunkin’ donuts coffee, along with a note, that read: Sis, thanks for putting up with me the last few days. It’s 6:15 as I’m writing this. You know how I like to get an early start when I’m traveling, so I got you some of your fave donuts to take to work, and a coffee (half & half, and three ‘yellows’, right?). Have a great day and be safe. Be in touch soon…Love, Jimmy. To everyone else, he was Jake, but to his little sister, he’d always be Jimmy.

About halfway down the shore, Jake decided he’d swing by his house…well, what was left of his house, rather than go straight to the station. It had been two and a half weeks since the explosion, so he wasn’t optimistic about finding anything, but you never know. He was surprised to find Andy Hallowell, one of the department’s three forensic scientists, already there, when he got out of his car. Hey, Andy, he called as he headed through what was once his front gate.

Jake! The surprised officer said, Didn’t expect to see you. How are you?

I’m ok, Andy. Thanks for the flowers…thank Amy for me, will you? Find anything?

Nah. Not really. My boss thinks this guy was an amateur, Jake. How he had the whole thing set up to look like an accident, but put the device in the dishwasher, the one appliance that shouldn’t ever blow up.

I’m sensing that you don’t agree 100% with that assessment?

Not completely, Jake. First of all, the perp used the exact amount of C4 necessary…not 1 ounce more than needed. It was all destroyed with the explosion. That’s why we didn’t find any originally. If Detective King didn’t have that FBI friend, who came around with his dog, we would’ve never found it. I gotta tell you Jake, until then, Crawford was leaning towards calling this an accident.

Could it have just been dumb luck, on the amount of C4, Andy?

I guess so, but…

But what, Andy?

Well, it wasn’t just the C4 that we found no trace of Jake. Look, we figure there was either a timer on the bomb, or a pressure switch, triggered when Mary opened the dishwasher. But the perp positioned it in such a way that there was nothing left of it. And I’ve been through this place with a fine-tooth comb.

Is that what you think, Andy? Or is that chief Forensic Scientist Crawford’s opinion?

Well, I figure it this way. A timer, or remote detonator wouldn’t be the best way to go. For this explosion to do what the perp intended, the door would have to be open. If that door was closed at the time of detonation, the explosion would’ve been somewhat contained, and would’ve never done all this, he said with a sweeping motion of his arm. And he had to have an accelerant placed in various places, or there wouldn’t be as big a fire. You were trained in demolition, right? You know that C4 will blow the hell out of something but doesn’t usually cause a huge fire. But again, we found no trace of accelerant anywhere. That makes me lean toward a professional.

But the dishwasher? My gut is telling me that is a Rookie mistake.

That’s exactly what Crawford says too, Jake.

What does Andy say?

Try this on for size. What if I was a professional that didn’t want to leave any clues that could identify anything involved with the explosion, but wanted the cops to think it was done by an amateur? I know I would put the bomb in the last place a professional would put it, if I was trying to make it look like an accident.

"Let me see if I got this, Andy. You think this was done by an expert, who wanted everyone to think that it was an accident. But just in case things didn’t go quite as he planned, and the cops found evidence that proved it was a bomb, he put the bomb in a place where only an amateur would put it, so they would focus their investigation looking for someone not so skilled in bomb making. Right?"

Yeah.

"But think about this, Andy. If he had put the bomb in the oven, or the heater, this would’ve been signed off as an accident, correct? Now, why exactly did Wilt contact his FBI friend in the