Blurred Visuals – Chapter One

Lacey was exhausted. Her arms were loaded with a bag of groceries, some flowers from the Farmer's Market, her portfolio carrier, and her leather tote. She knew it was too much to carry (for her small frame), but she powered through her fatigue to walk from her detached garage to the front steps of her duplex.

Suddenly, a swarm of police cars arrived to the duplex across the street. That belonged to Solomon Fitzgerald, a sweet neighbor in his sixties. Several officers exited the cars to crowd around the duplex at several different positions – front, back, and sides. As Lacey stopped her progression to her front steps, she turned a questioning glance towards her neighbor, Phoebe Daly, who had been watering some plants in front of their duplex. Phoebe shrugged in a non-verbal reply as she turned to stare across the street.

An officer walked towards Lacey's duplex and signaled for Lacey and Phoebe to go inside their homes. Phoebe rushed Lacey inside the foyer of her part of the duplex.

Phoebe was very animated as she questioned to Lacey "I wonder what is going on over there at Solomon's. Have you seen him today?"

Lacey shook her head. "I haven't seen him since...maybe 2 days ago. I knew he said he was going out of town for a few days or so. I just thought he had left and I had missed seeing him leave. I had already wished him a good trip. He seemed anxious to go."

Phoebe pulled the items from Lacey's arms and placed them on the foyer floor. Then, she grabbed Lacey's arm to tug her towards the living room and look out the window to the duplex across the street. Lacey held back…she didn't know if they should be gazing out the window. It could be a dangerous situation since the police had stormed Solomon's home.

"I wonder why so many cops and why they rushed into Solomon's house that way? Wait...is that an ambulance? I wonder if Solomon is hurt." At Phoebe's statement, Lacey's curiosity got the best of her, and she joined Phoebe in looking out the window. Besides, Lacey now feared for Solomon's safety.

It was almost an hour before the EMTS came out of the home with a white covered stretcher. Both Lacey and Phoebe gasped. Later the officers came over to report what had happened. It appeared that their sweet neighbor, Solomon Fitzgerald, was dead. However, no one offered an explanation on what happened, why there had been so many officers to enter Solomon's home nor why a steady stream of law personnel carried boxes from that duplex.

A week later….

At Solomon's wake and funeral service in the chapel at the Wilson Brothers Funeral Home, Lacey and Phoebe paid their last respects to their neighbor. The crowd there was small…few people from the neighborhood. There were some people from Solomon's New Jersey neighborhood as well – men/women his age and some of their kids. Everyone seemed very sad that he was gone.

Then, there was that strange man again from that day in Green Grove Park. He removed his hat and sunglasses out of respect for the deceased. His gray hair was sprinkled with some black. He looked very distinguished. He had come with a small entourage of men. Everyone accompanying him was dressed in either all black or dark charcoal gray suits with either white or black shirts and dark ties.

Each man looked….formidable…didn't matter if they were slight in stature or fully compact muscle. Each had an imposing air about them…not quite aggressive but it was as if there was pent-up energy just underneath the surface. Each had an intense stare if you caught their gaze for too long. Lacey just felt an unease when she viewed them.

The strange man caught Lacey's gaze and gave a single nod of recognition. Lacey nodded back. She felt it would have been rude to not acknowledge their brief acquaintance with each other (from that day in the park) but she would have felt fine for the man to ignore her presence. There just was something 'dark' about him. She had no exact rational reason to assign any feelings about him; nonetheless, her sixth sense or women's intuition warned her to stay far away from him.

The director's wife, who was officiating the memorial service, had inquired if anyone had any words to say during this part of the eulogy. There were some volunteers. A few people were from Solomon's New Jersey neighborhood. They said some kind words with stories of their childhood days and bowling league days.

Lacey was the only one from Solomon's current neighborhood who came forward to say a few words. She quoted a poem that Solomon had liked. It was his late wife's favorite poem by Emily Dickinson. Solomon had quoted it many times.

Because Lacey was feeling somewhat emotional that day, she wrote the words down just in case her mind faltered. However, that wasn't necessary. She remembered each word by heart and spoke clearly. She wanted to perfect the delivery as a true tribute that Solomon would have enjoyed.

"Why do I love" You, Sir?
Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.

Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—

The Lightning—never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—

The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He's Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—

Lacey completed her speech with "Thank you, Solomon, for your short time in my life. I appreciate all your words of wisdom and everything you taught me. I know you and Miriam are reunited once again. May you rest in peace." She went back to her seat.

Phoebe gave her a squeeze and a hug. "Solomon would have loved that."

Lacey nodded as she wiped a few tears with her handkerchief, one Solomon had loaned her one day and refused to take back when Lacey had cleaned it. Ironically, that was the day that Lacey had been mourning over the unexpected death of her father. Solomon had given her words of encouragement and his handkerchief as she tearfully recalled wonderful stories she had about her dad.

Here she was again using the cloth and she felt a sense of comfort – the same as that day with Solomon offering sympathy during her time of mourning. In a way, that piece of cloth was a connection to Solomon and it lifted her spirits.

When the service adjourned, the funeral director led everyone to another room where there were a few refreshments of lemonade, coffee, tea, and scones that the director's wife had organized. Solomon didn't leave any other funeral instructions besides a list of contact to invite to his services and the burial arrangement.

He was to be laid to rest in the same cemetery as his late wife. His lawyer was handling the rest of his estate matters. The lawyer had informed Lacey that he may have some questions for her in order to tie any loose ends of the estate.

Since Phoebe had gone to the Ladies' Room, Lacey took a moment to sign her name and Phoebe's name as attendees in Solomon's service guest book. As she turned to leave the guest book's podium stand, she was a little startled as she gazed into the ice-blue eyes of the strange gentleman with the salt-and-pepper silver hair.

"Hello. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, young lady." The man offered a greeting with a small smile. However, the warmth of the greeting and the facial demeanor did not match. The smile didn't reach his eyes and the gentle tone in his speech was definitely juxtaposition to his whole physicality. He had an air of power around him. That was the best description that Lacey internally processed about him. Even though he appeared to be approximately Solomon's age, he had an importance about him - one that belied the friendly 'little ol' man image' that was in front of her. He was definitely not the grandfatherly type that Solomon had been.

"Hello." Lacey gave a small smile back.

The man questioned "Do you remember me?"

Lacey nodded. "You are the man that I saw with Solomon one day in the park."

"Yes, that was me…" He smiled at her recognition. "although that was a happier occasion. It is a shame that Solomon has gone. May he rest in peace."

"Yes." Lacey didn't feel like discussing Solomon with this man. Again, she had no reason to feel apprehensive but the hairs on her body stood on end from the contained tension she felt emanating from this man.

"Did you know Solomon very well?" Those ice-blue eyes gazed at her intently.

Lacey responded "I knew him only a year but he was a very nice neighbor. He was friendly. Everyone in the neighborhood thought well of him." Lacey gave him a generic answer. Something told her to just give this gentleman basic responses to anything he asked.

"Oh, I see…" The gentleman began surveying the room of people when his eyes subtly hardened. If Lacey had not been paying attention, she would have missed the slight change - for it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. The gentleman turned his attention fully towards her again. "Well, it was nice seeing you again. Talk to you soon." Then he turned and walked towards the exit. Those men, dressed in the dark suits, exited with him…some preceding him and some following him.

Lacey was thankful that he was leaving and that she didn't have to make pleasant small chat with him any longer. She didn't know what to think of his parting remarks. She never wanted to see him again. She had no reason for this feeling - other than her intuition which didn't like the eeriness about the man.

"Who was that?" Phoebe asked as she was returning from the bathroom.

Lacey replied "I don't know exactly. He was a man that I saw talking in the park with Solomon a couple of weeks ago. Remember when I said I saw Solomon in the park but he wasn't his normal outgoing self?" Phoebe nodded.

Lacey continued "Well, that was the man who was sitting on the park bench with him. I had never seen him before nor since – until today. I wonder how Solomon knew him. Their personalities seem completely opposite. His accent is Jersey-ian. So, maybe he was from Solomon's old neighborhood. At any rate, the guy gives me the creeps. There is just something about him…some kind of 'coldness' to him." Lacey shuddered. "Are you ready to go? I signed both our names in the guest book. Let's say goodbye to Solomon's attorney over there."

As the girls were making their way to Mr. Stevenson, Solomon's attorney, they were stopped by a handsome man. He was tall and his looks were multi-cultural – perhaps Native American, Spanish, or Indian ancestry. He was dressed in a nice navy suit, white shirt, and a midnight blue tie. He had dark hair and eyes. He appeared to be in his latter forties.

"Hello, ladies. Excuse me, but which one of you is Ms. Lacey Porter?" With his question, Lacey noticed that he had a New-England accent but it wasn't distinctive of a particular area as Boston, Jersey, or NYC borough.

"I am Lacey Porter" she responded.

"Lacey, I am Agent Michael Eddison from the FBI." He flashed his creditials. As he introduced himself, Mr. Stevenson, Solomon's attorney, approached the trio.

"Lacey, before you say anything, I would like to advise you to have an attorney present with you before you answer anything that Agent Eddison wants to know. In fact, I would like to extend my services to you while you seek adequate legal representation." Mr. Stevenson looked at the agent with disdain.

The agent gave a slight smile and nod of agreement. "Of course, Mr. Stevenson is right, Ms. Porter. You are entitled to have legal representation present with you during any questioning the FBI has for you." Although friendly enough, Agent Eddison didn't seem to like Mr. Stevenson's intrusion into the conversation before the agent could discuss his reason for approaching Lacey.

"Why would you want to question her?" Phoebe asked, beating Lacey herself to the question.

"Ah, you must be the other neighbor, Phoebe Daly. I will have some questions for you as well. My questions are in connection with Solomon Fitzgerald….once known as Manigault Riccobono…aka "Manny the Fingers", a part of the Vincent Bastinino organization. Any of this ring a bell?" the detective inquired.

"What?!" Lacey and Phoebe both exclaimed. Solomon had affiliations with the mob?

"Judging from your expressions, you seem a little surprised, ladies. The neighbor you knew, Solomon Fitzgerald, was once part of a ruthless mob family. In fact, Lacey, that man you were conversing with, was none other than Vincent Bastinino himself. How is it that you know him?" The detective seemed anxious to know.

"Agent Eddison, don't you agree that we should take this discussion somewhere else - to a more private location away from others' ears?" Mr. Stevenson motioned his head to indicate to the people still gathered after Solomon's services.

The agent had temporarily forgotten his surroundings. He was anxious for any answers that Lacey and Phoebe might have. He nodded. "I am free all this afternoon. If the ladies are also free, then I would like to talk to them today in my office – as soon as possible – especially since Vinny Bastinino has made an appearance today."

"Phoebe, I can represent you, too, until you have adequate legal services. Ladies, if you want, we can go right now to the Agent's office and answer questions. Unfortunately, due to the circumstances, you won't be able to avoid inquiries by our fine agents since this is a high-profile matter." Mr. Stevenson explained to the ladies.

Both Lacey and Phoebe agreed to accompany Mr. Stevenson to Agent Eddison's office. The girls had arrived to the funeral together with Phoebe driving them there. Lacey was grateful. She didn't know if she would have been able to drive. Her mind was full of questions.

Why would Solomon lie about his name…about his background? What was his role in the mob? Did he try to escape them? Solomon had seemed like such a sweet person. Was this all a façade? What else did he keep hidden from Lacey and his neighbors? Did Lacey even want to know?

In another part of New York, Danny Desai received a call. It was a New Jersey number. He answered. "Hello."

"The boss needs you on standby for a possible job" stated the gruff voice on the other end of the line.

"Any specifics?" Danny questioned since he preferred to keep his schedule open for any unexpected business.

"Maybe 'Manny the Fingers' told someone of our business…two young females, probably about your age. It may need some 'wine and dine' panache before the deed is done" was the response from the voice.

"Not just your simple 'hit and run' kill?" Danny asked.

"No, this may require some finesse depending on how things shake out. We will be in touch. Keep your schedule wide open." There was a click on the line.

As Danny ended the call on his cell phone, he placed the phone down on the table and continued to clean and load ammunition into his guns. As he performed the task he had done countless times, his thoughts absently pondered the call.

This was a slightly unusual request for the 'wine and dine' treatment. Rarely did he need to do any in-depth subterfuge acting role whenever he made his kills – except for that one time in which an elaborate ruse was needed in order to enact full revenge. However, if this was what the boss wanted, Danny would do. Possible two ladies to 'wine and dine'? Maybe he could have a little fun before he had to do the hit…interesting.

At any rate, Danny was a trained assassin. It was what he enjoyed. He was skilled at his job. He had never failed an assignment. This one would be no different.

*Lovely Readers, thank you for reading. Thank you for your support. Will Danny, the assassin, cross paths with Lacey, Solomon's neighbor? Will the sight and scope of his gun be stilled by the depth within his heart? Tune into the next installment of 'Blurred Visuals'. (Oh, if you need inspiration for the Agent Addison character, I am basing him on actor Benjamin Bratt.)

P.S. I will be updating one fic this weekend – either 'After the Burn', 'The Beautiful Ones', or 'The Break'. I have not decided yet…whichever one inspires the creativity tonight…lol.

'Prime Recognition' will be updated the upcoming weekend. Also, there will be another new fic or two added…possibly one shots instead of multi-arc chapters. I am trying to write most of my Dacey stories by the time of Twisted's pending cancellation. Thank you again for reading. DimplesValntina