(Most characters belong to the Law and Order Universe)
Jack could sure do with a rest after "Motion to Dismiss"!
So here it is!
To Love Again
Chapter 1
Stockbridge was a small rustic town in Massachusetts. It was peacefully situated in the heart of a beautiful valley near the Houstatonic River. One main street ran through the entire town, appropriately named Main Street.
The quaint structures of the town looked as it must have looked half a century ago. Most of the traditionally dated buildings were solidly built of bricks or high quality wood.
This quintessential winsome New England street had even been depicted in a famous Norman Rockwell painting titled "Stockbridge at Christmas."
And it was this particular town that District Attorney Jack McCoy had picked as his vacation destination.
Well, that wasn't quite true.
In actuality, Brenda, his secretary, had made all the arrangements. She said he would be "charmed" by this town.
"Charmed" wasn't a word in Jack's venacular.
He couldn't remember the last time he had gone on a vacation. The thought had always conjured up images of him sitting and twirling his thumbs. No, Jack had worked all his life.
He felt he existed to breathe law, think law, live law.
All he had known was how to be a ruthless prosecutor. He had no patience with low life, scumbag criminals. As far as he was concerned, no motive in the whole world could excuse a person who was guilty. Do the crime, do the time. Period. He was not afraid to drop the hammer on anyone. The nickname "Hang em High McCoy" suited him and he was fine with that.
However, after 40-plus years of bucking the judicial establishment, it began to weigh heavily on the District Attorney. Jack was weary of constantly having to maneuver the legal system.
It was time for a change of scenery.
At least that is what he concluded when he told Brenda he needed to get away. He had been through an ordeal and he thought a little peace and quiet would do him good.
But this place was not what he had in mind. He should have been more specific with Brenda in determining his destination. What he wanted was a place that challenged him. He wanted to keep his mind busy. He survived on the heartbeat of a large metropolitan city.
Jack looked around the tiny town with its one main street and its facades of antiquated business buildings. If he had wanted to view a picturesque place, he'd buy a postcard.
The image of twirling his thumbs came to mind again.
He wondered what he could do in a town like this as he walked through Main Street in the late afternoon. Main Street, Stockbridge resembled one of those miniature Christmas villages that sentimental people displayed on tables during the seasonal holidays—minus the snow, of course.
Each nostalgically built business structure was unique. Their common features included being rectangular in shape, with triangular roofs and symmetrically arranged two-by-two windows surrounding archaic designed doors. The exteriors of these clapboard buildings were painted different antiquated colors or built entirely of bricks.
The vintage buildings lined up whimsically along the street, enticing visitors with their old world enchantment. It was a picture perfect New England town setting. Charming, in fact.
Except Jack didn't want to be charmed.
Challenged, yes. Charmed, no.
Everyone strolling through Main Street greeted one another, whether that person was a tourist or a townie. Jack just nodded, but was getting tired of all this friendliness.
Charmed, indeed!
Give him a noisy, over-crowded city, brimming with hurried people and cars, any day!
To combat the town's affable goodness, Jack decided to duck into one of the local businesses.
There was a tiny, quaint store just ahead of him. Its large window had the words "Carol's Cookies" painted in venerable font lettering. Looking through the window, Jack could see four round tables surrounded by a few chairs. A newly polished wooden counter combined with three coordinating stools was located next to the display case. The place looked empty.
Perfect, Jack thought as he tucked his newspaper underneath his arm and entered the shop.
A small bell tinkled up above the door as he entered. Immediately the smell of fresh baked cookies assaulted Jack. He looked around at the informal establishment. Positioned on a shelf above the counter was a green-leafed plant, a few of its heart- shaped leaves delicately dangling off the ledge. A copper teapot invitingly settled next to it.
Underneath the shelf was a clear glass case, displaying all the baked goods for that day. Besides the old standards of chocolate chip and oatmeal cookies, there were gourmet cookies offered, such as: mint chocolate, peanut butter with a dollop of strawberry center, coconut macaroons, and cranberry orange cookies.
The fusion of smells combined with the homey ambience of the shop created a cozy, intimate feeling.
Jack took a seat by the wooden counter, reminiscent of the kind they built in a different era. A young worker wearing a white shirt with a matching white soda- jerk hat greeted Jack.
"Welcome to Stockbridge and to Carol's Cookies, sir," he said with a friendly smile, "what can I get you?"
Jack realized he had to order something. He leaned over, looked in the case and decided on the old classic.
"A chocolate chip cookie, I suppose," Jack ordered, "oh, and some coffee."
"If you prefer, sir, we also have a white chocolate chip cookie as well as a chocolate- chocolate chip cookie," offered the young man in earnest.
Jack almost snorted. When did ordering a cookie get so complicated? he thought to himself.
"I think I've already put in my order, young man," said Jack, sounding a bit impatient.
As the young man went to fill the order, Jack crisply unfolded his newspaper; half wondering what he could do for the week he would be in town.
He was going to have a long talk with Brenda.
The young man had the cookie on a plate and placed it next to Jack, alongside his cup of coffee. As Jack scanned the headlines, he absentmindedly reached for the cookie and took a bite.
Jack stopped reading, pleasantly surprised. It was the most delicious cookie he had ever tasted. It was warm, soft, not too gooey, and not too chocolatey. It also had a hint of something special.
Just the ideal cookie.
Jack inspected the cookie, turning it slowly in his hand, and then looked towards the young man.
"Delicious," he amazingly found himself saying, holding up the cookie.
The young man broke out in a grin. "I thought you might like it, sir," he said, nodding, "Some people say we have the best cookies in the state! I'm sure the manager would appreciate your feedback. Let me get her and you can tell her yourself!"
"What? No! I have nothing to say to the proprietor—" began Jack.
But it was too late.
"Hey! Carol! Can you come out here for a sec?" the young man yelled over his shoulder.
Jack regretted coming in here. He already had his fill of people interaction for the day. He should have gone straight to the inn.
Light footsteps could be heard approaching. A slender, mature woman with lovely auburn hair appeared, wiping her floured hands on her apron. She then used the back of her hand to wipe away a tendril of hair that had fallen on her attractive face.
"Tim," she addressed the young man in a soft, low voice, "What's up?"
But Jack was not aware of her words or her actions.
He was staring directly at her face.
His mouth momentarily dropped when she had first entered, but he quickly recovered and willed himself to look away from her. His eyes drifted to view her business license, which was tacked onto the wall behind the counter.
He was in for a shock.
The proprietor's name, according to the business license, was Carol Kincaid.
She was the mirror image of Claire Kincaid.
Claire obviously had a twin sister.
.
.
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Bits of trivia:
Jill Hennessey , who played Claire Kincaid, actually had a twin sister. At one point Jill was in production for the series Homicide alongside Law and Order, so her sister actually played her in one of the courtroom scenes!
So…my plot is not so unbelievable after all!
Also, Stockbridge is an actual nostalgic town in Massachusetts and the famous artist Norman Rockwell did reside there and yes, one of his most famous paintings was "Stockbridge at Christmas".
Welcome back! Hope you enjoy this story enough to stay with it…
This is my first story featuring Jack McCoy. I'm rather excited. What do you think?
Please review!