Tilly and Jack

"My absolute pleasure," I said.

She gave me directions and we ended up at a small but tasteful bistro with a piano player that actually played romantic music. The lights were dimmed, and the place smelled like old Italy probably smelled.

The dinner was great. The wine first rate, and the music right out of the thirties. It was a fabulous date. It was that is until it was time to part.

I took her home. She stopped me on the stoop and kissed me hard. I looked at her and I could tell something was wrong.

"Jack, I can't tell you how nice it was for you to show up and take this girl out tonight. It was a dream come true for me. I have thought about you so many times over the last few years."

"For me too," I said. "But there's a but in there isn't there?" I said, sensing it coming.

"I'm afraid so. Jack, we can't be together. I have been trying to think of a way to tell you tonight almost from when I opened the door and saw you standing there. There is just way too much water under the bridge, and I hope you'll allow me my privacy and not intrude into my life here. It just wouldn't work out you and me. Let this be our swan song," she said. She reached for the door knob and rushed in. She was already crying.

To say I was crushed would not even begin to describe the pain I was feeling. I was numb. I stood there on the stoop for several moments trying to figure out what was going on. Finally, I left. She had said to not invade her privacy, not to intrude into her life. I was willing to do anything she asked of me. But, I was not willing to do that one thing; I'd fight her on that one, and the next time I saw her I was would tell her that, and there would a next time.

I was definitely going to figure out just what water under the bridge she was talking about, and that no matter what. If she hadn't actually murdered someone, and maybe even if she had, I still wanted and needed her. ******

I wasn't rich, but I was doing all right. I had a house, a good income, and I was single as hell. Aged 30 and I was still single. It was obvious to me that so was she. Hell, logically, she should have jumped at the chance to marry me, or at least date me; I was a helluva a catch. She wasn't just my friend; she was my life; I knew that now, and it was killing me. I had let too much time pass since returning and getting settled, what, five years!

I knew she probably had a child, Rod's child; but that in itself couldn't be the reason for the finality of her attitude. No, it had to be something worse. Somebody had to know what it was, but who? ******

I was pretty sure I could get the truth out of her parents, but it wasn't going to be easy. Time to apply the pressure. Harry and Doris Shipp were long time residents of the town. Their only child, Tilly was a wonder. Everyone had said so. But, sometime after I left for college, and not long before I returned for good, something happened.

There was the pregnancy. There was the shipping her off to relatives, to presumably have the baby, or so the story went. But, Tilly was never spoken of in the town; it was like she'd never lived there. Her parents too seemed semi-reclusive. For sure, something had gone wrong and no one would say what, if in fact anyone did actually know.

I sat in a police cruiser across from the Shipp house on 3rd street. I went over for the tenth time what I was going to say. I had made up my mind that I wasn't leaving until I had the whole ball of wax.

I was wearing a suit, my best business suit. It was one of the ones I used for presentations to other regional law enforcement agencies. I wanted to appear as intimidating as I could to the quiet couple that I was likely about to shake up big time.

I knocked and the door opened a minute later. "Mrs. Shipp? I'm..."

"Yes, I remember you, Jack. If you're still looking for Tilly..." She immediately knew, or presumed to know, why I was there; that was interesting.

"Mrs. Shipp, I found Tilly. We went to dinner just the other night. May I come in?" That surprised her; it stopped her for a moment. She recovered.

"Jack, I know you spoke to my husband a few of years ago; nothing has changed. We don't speak of Tilly anymore."

"Well, you're going to today," I said. "And, you're not going to hold anything back. I am more than ready and able to put pressure on you that you can neither fight nor resist. Trust me, I mean business, and I never bluff." I felt like an asshole, and I was bluffing, but this bullshit had gone on for far too long.

"Jack! Are you threatening us?" said the surprised, no, shocked woman.

"Take it any way you want. I'm here to get answers, and I'm going to get them," I said.

We both looked around to see a big man, balding, with the weathered countenance of a blue collar worker come into the room. He studied me. "Sit down, Jack."

"Mr. Shipp," I said. He didn't offer me his hand, and I took no offense.

"Doris, could you leave us alone for a bit. Mr. Steiner is obviously not going to let sleeping dogs lie, and truth told, he has a right to know."

"Thank you," I said.

"Hold that thought until you've heard what I have to say, Jack.

"Here's the deal. I'm going to tell you what you want to know, but I am going to ask you to not talk about it to anyone here in town, ever, and to leave us alone after this. Are you agreed?"

I nodded. "If that's the way you want it."

"It is," he said.

"Okay, unless it's a crime then—"

"I heard you say you went out with Tilly the other night. Did I hear right," said Harry.

"Yes, I found out where she lived and went to see her. You have her address too, don't you?" I said.

"No, our daughter is dead to us. We haven't had contact with her since she left years ago. Before you came back to stay I guess," said Harry.

"What did you say? Dead to you! Are you crazy! She's a wonderful woman and beautiful one. Why would you ever say such a thing about your own baby?"

Harry looked at me with the saddest eyes I have ever seen. It was clear he was having trouble talking.

"Look, Mr. Shipp, Harry, has she murdered anyone?"

"Heavens no!" he almost yelled.

"Has she committed treason? Or anything like that. I mean big time prison offenses? You know I'm a cop, and I am not asking these questions rhetorically," I said.

"No, no, no to all of that," he said.

"Then take my advice and go to that wonderful person we all know Tilly Shipp is," I said, "and love her."

"We can't. One, she won't see us, not after the—fight. Two, she's not the same girl you knew in high school, trust me officer, she's not."

"I don't trust you, Harry, not if you have voluntarily abandoned that girl. You are unworthy of trust."

He looked at me and almost sneered. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said. "So shut up and listen."

"I nodded, "Okay, I'm listening."

"You probably heard that she was knocked up by Rod Cameron. At least that's what most people think, and it's probably so" he said.

"Yes, I heard that," I said.

"Well, I like I say, that much is likely true, and we had intended to send her to Iowa to live with her grams. But, something snapped in her. She stalled and wouldn't go. She started hanging out with bikers and other bad types. To her credit she didn't drink too much or use drugs—because of the baby I guess. Just before it was due, she disappeared. Her mom and I were frantic. We had no idea where she was. Sheriff Nix tried to help us, but initially to no avail. We were thinking something bad happened to her. "Well, Sheriff Nix did finally locate her. She was in New York. She'd..." He started to sob.

"Harry, I said softly. "Tell me."

"Jack, she'd become a prostitute." Harry Shipp broke down.

For some reason I felt relieved. It was bad, that water under the bridge, but not "that" bad. "I have a question for you, Harry."

He looked up. "Is that the worst of it?"

He nodded. "Yes. Isn't it enough?" Goddamn puritans, I thought.

"Then why won't you see her, love her. It's not a socially acceptable situation, I'll grant you, but it could have been far worse than her taking pay for sex, far worse."

He looked at me like I was the one who was crazy. "Are you nuts!"

"No, a bit upset, but not nuts. Now, I just have to figure a way to get her out of the pay for sex situation, and maybe together we can rebuild the soul of that wonderful woman," I said. "And, I could your help and Doris'."

"Doris, come in here. I know you're listening," cried Harry.

A sheepish Doris came back in to the living room. "Jack, I would like nothing better than to have you succeed. But, I don't know. You see, Doris and I tried already. It was years ago, but we did try. She told us—well—she told us she liked fucking men for money. Those were her words. She refused to quit."

"I've seen and heard it before, Harry. It may even be true that she likes the sex. But doing it for money is not something any prostitute likes. It's boring and dirty and loveless. We'll get her out of that part of it, I promise you. Now, that I know what I'm up against; I'll know how to fight the good fight."

"Do you really think..."

"How about my proposition? Will you two be willing to help me rehabilitate her if I can get her to agree to coming home?"

"Yes, okay," said Doris. "Anything we can we do?"

"I will let you know when the times comes, but it will be soon; I assure you of that," I said. "But, right now, stop looking down on her. Her business is the shits, but she's still our girl. Okay?"

They were both nodding yes and Harry had a half smile. It was the first time in years that he'd had hope and he was feeling good. I would be saving three people not just one with this effort—huh—make that five. I had to succeed. Who were the other two? Why the little girl and me of course.

As I was about to leave, I had a thought. "Doris, what is your granddaughter's name?"

"Oh, uh, Jillian," she said.

I turned over the name in my mind. Jillian, maybe Jill for short. I wondered if her apparently uncaring biological daddy ever thought about her. I'd never met her and already I was thinking about her—hard. ******

I had neglected my parents for the past few months. I had been on the road doing seminars and when not so occupied I had been developing a new piece of software that made it possible for a well trained user to not only record, and that remotely, what was going on in a room under surveillance but also to determine the truth or untruth of the speakers words: a kind of remote lie detector. Ah, Computer Science what could it not do! At any rate, I had to see mom and dad; it was time.

I'd arrived at noon. Mom had lunch ready. As we ate we caught up.

"You know Jack, it wouldn't kill you to at least call every once in a while."

"I know, mom, I will start making a point of it. When's dad coming. You said he'd be here."

"He'll be here in a while. Since he's retired from the company; he fishes almost every weekend. You'll be lucky if he doesn't get you out there to clean the fish," she said laughing.

Just then we heard the truck pull in. I could see dad pulling the Styrofoam ice chest out of the back of the shell camper. I went out to help. "I got it dad," I said.

"What you can do if you want to help," he said, wrestling the ice chest from me, "is help me to clean the fish!"

"Delighted," I said. "Okay, then, you can carry the tub out back too."

I laughed. "Thanks a lot, daddy." He began laughing too.

Lunch was good. The weekend was young. I decided to hang out with the folks. It was casual, and happy and—good. It was Sunday evening. Dad and I were sitting out on the deck in the back. It was Miller time, and we each had an MGD in hand. "Dad, you remember Tilly, right?' I said.

"Yes, of course son. A pretty girl. Had some problems a few years ago, I heard."

"Any idea why, Dad?"

"Son, I—"

"It's okay, Dad, I know a lot already. I'd appreciate your input."

"Son, I know she was your favorite, everybody knew it. But she..."

"I know, she took money for sex. Mr. Shipp told me."

"Yes, but that wasn't the whole of it I'm afraid, son. She liked it. She liked the sex and she did it indiscriminately from what I hear."

I sat there with my mouth open. "It started when that asshole Cameron came around. You were gone, and he was handy, and he did things with her—well, stuff you only read about, but nobody actually does. He made her pull a train, Jack. And afterwards she was the town slut. She moved away. I hear it was New York, but we never saw her again.

"I think her parents found her and talked to her, but she wouldn't listen. She had the little girl, she was—well there were rumors."

"I think I know what they were," I said. "She's a hooker isn't she? I mean still."

"They were only rumors, son. We never really knew. People have lives. When others leave, well, they kinda get lost in the mass of humanity. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know dad. I know."

We said our goodbyes around midnight. I promised to go fishin' with Dad soon, and I would keep that promise. ******

I had decided to utilize my new technology. I knew it worked even if the patent was still pending. I wanted to find out where exactly my love was at. Did she really want this life she was into, or was she trapped by it. I figured I'd know soon.

Ironically, as much as I didn't know about Tilly's current life; there was plenty she didn't know about me either. This coming weekend I would be putting all of it to rest. There was a tsunami of shit about to be hitting the fan and I had to remember to be sure to duck. ******

Sneaking around and spying on the woman I wanted to marry was not my idea of a good way to start out in family life, but I had to know what I had to know, and the only way to find out was to sneak around. So I did.

I'd learned a lot in my six years on the force, and I was able to break into her apartment with no trouble. While it is true my badge did not carry any weight in New Jersey, unless someone looked close they wouldn't be able to tell I was from out of state.

I installed the mini-micro in the living room. I only had one and I figured if she used the bedroom to fuck some guy I'd know what was going on anyway, and if not the living room would be the most likely place to pick up the info I needed. Plus, it was a good chance to test the truth detector feature of the device. It measured tone of voice and pauses between phrases and other things to determine if someone were dissembling or not. And, as to that I was about to get a big surprise. ******

I had decided to call it a day and get a room. There was a motel no more than two blocks away from Tilly's place. I called the station back home and was about to tell my secretary to expect me a day later than I'd originally planned. She interrupted me.

"Huh?...what?...Geezsus...what's the number!" I wrote it down.

My patent had been cleared, and I already had buyers lining up. But one buyer in particular was more than interested; that's what the call was about. Trudy, at the station, had no more than opened the mail and discovered the patent acceptance than she had gotten the call to inform me that a very special buyer was interested in my device. Not just any buyer mind you, but the U.S. Army! I damned near wet my pants.

I had to kick myself to keep on track with my main mission in Hoboken: to find out all I could about Tilly and her—craziness or whatever it was. But, I was cool. The instrument was already installed in her living room; I had time; I should know what I needed to pretty soon. And, I didn't have to be back until Tuesday.

I made the necessary, and I have to add frantic, call to the Army's representative and had gotten an appointment with a General Leighton for Monday at 10:00AM. This was turning out to be a helluva week. *****

It was Saturday Morning and I was curious as to how Tilly and Jill spent their weekends. I parked a few doors down from their house and relaxed and prepared to hang in there for the duration. I had no idea if they would even come out during the day; though I would have gambled a few bucks that they would. I wasn't afraid of being spotted. The windows on the van I was driving were tinted dark, so seeing in wasn't going to happen; I was safe. I had food, I had a couple of beers, and I had a thermos of coffee—a regular picnic. Now, if I could only get my woman to join me!

I heard Tilly and Jill interacting all morning. It was kinda like an old time radio show. It was about ten o'clock when Tilly and Jill came out. They were dressed casually; I was betting it would be a shopping day. It turned out that I would have lost my money.

I followed at a discrete distance and they pulled into a lot in front of a small three-story hotel. This bothered me. She had Jillian with her. Surely if she was doing some guy she wouldn't have brought her little girl along. She went inside and I prepared to do the same. I gave her some space so as to not have her see me.

Just inside the foyer, I saw her, with Jill in tow, speaking with a black man, maybe forty years old, and dressed in ghetto-stylish—the canary yellow fedora with the red feather was a giveaway: he had to be a pimp. I ducked back out to the van. My women came back out and I followed them to a pleasant and quiet street about fifteen minutes from the hotel we had just visited. Tilly walked Jillian to the door and knocked.

An elderly lady answered the door and broke out into a broad smile when Jillian went to her and grabbed her around the leg. Clearly the babysitter.

Tilly and the sitter talked for a moment or two and then Tilly retreated to her car and drove off. My van was not far behind. We drove for some thirty minutes and near as many miles. She pulled up in front of an apartment complex. I saw her touch up her makeup, grab her purse and exit the vehicle. She approached a ground floor apartment and knock. A big man—he reminded me of Rex Cameron, but thirty-fiveish, answered the door. He looked taciturn; I didn't like him at all.

The device I'd installed was at her house. I realized that it was not going to be of much use today, so I headed for the apartment that I'd seen her enter. I had eyed the environs and thought I saw a possible place where I could at least hear if not see well into the apartment. There was a stairway separating the two wings of the building and by climbing half way up the stairs of the sister building I might be able to see into one of the apartments windows. There was no one out and the place seemed unusually quiet and devoid of human activity; that suited me.

I climbed the stairs trying to make use of the trees that fronted them to remain inconspicuous. I hit the jackpot; I could hear them talking animatedly and I could see her head and the upper part of his torso through what appeared to be the kitchen window. Tilly was telling him no, no way. He didn't seem to be buying it.

Then it happened. He hit her, and she literally flew across the room. I couldn't see her well enough to know how badly she was hurt, but at that moment all bets and all plans were off. I went quickly around to the front door, and I tried it. I got lucky the asshole hadn't locked it; his bad luck.

I entered just as Tilly was crawling on her hands and knees trying to escape through the front door. It was clear she had been seriously hurt, and she was too stunned to move with any speed.

He was looming over her stricken form and had reached down to grab her by the collar of her blouse. It was at that moment that he saw me. "What the fuck! Who the hell are you?"

"You worst fucking nightmare, asshole," I said.

Tilly had pulled herself into a tight fetal ball against the near wall. She was clearly terrified. The man looked me over and appraised his chances. He outweighed me by a 100 pounds. His courage soared.