Evil Will Out
Kidnapping, sins of the past, love, jealousy, entrapment, tragedy, revenge,
betrayal, secrets of a serial killer
betrayal, secrets of a serial killer
The icy fingers of the unsettled past seem to follow bitter rivals from childhood.
An accomplished pianist disappears from her home in the middle of the night, wearing only her nightgown as her children and husband sleep soundly. As with several young women before her, it seems as if she had vanished into thin air, leaving no trace behind. There are no clues as to what happened, and no evidence has been found during the thorough police investigation. Her distraught family is ready to do whatever it takes to bring the loving wife and mother home, alive. Will the secrets of the past ever be revealed… or stay hidden forever? Are private investigators capable of accomplishing what the police cannot? Only time will tell. |
From the beta readers
“The best mystery novels make you guess who the killer is, and then bam, surprise you at the end. This is one of those stories!”
“Engrossing plot with vivid scenes and relatable characters.”
“Love the backstories into the lives of these characters making the story so come to life and leaving a long-lasting impression!”
“The vivid details of the setting made me feel as though I was right there in every room of this magnificent mansion.”
“As they say, ‘The past always catches up with you, and the author is a master at proving this to be true!”
“Engrossing plot with vivid scenes and relatable characters.”
“Love the backstories into the lives of these characters making the story so come to life and leaving a long-lasting impression!”
“The vivid details of the setting made me feel as though I was right there in every room of this magnificent mansion.”
“As they say, ‘The past always catches up with you, and the author is a master at proving this to be true!”
A short excerpt
The Cellar
As the young woman opened her eyes in total darkness, she felt dazed and disoriented. She tried to move her hand to find her comforter to cover up but couldn’t move. Fear froze her insides as she felt her hands tied behind her back and feet tightly bound as well. Where am I? How did I get here? Am I dreaming? As she tugged at the ropes, the realization hit her hard when she felt the thin plastic cord cutting into her flesh. She wanted to scream but her mouth was chalk dry, she could only utter a whimpering sound.
She shifted her body. It feels like I’m lying on a damp concrete floor. How did I get here from my house, from my bed? Frantic thoughts were racing through her mind. She swallowed hard and tried to scream again. “Help!” she managed to croak out. “Somebody! Help me, please!” she sobbed.
“She’s up,” a man’s raspy whisper sounded as if he was behind a door. “Lemme see her,” he spoke, and she heard a low, squeaky sound as the doorknob was turned.
“Hands off, old man!” a deep, younger-sounding voice growled. “She’s not yours. He wants her. El maldito viejo Bastardo.” (*the damned old bastard*) He continued in Spanish.
“Solo puedo estar de acuerdo con esa afirmación, (*I can only agree with that statement*)” the man with the raspy voice replied in Spanish and switched to English. “Just a little peek. He doesn’t have to know.” He chuckled.
“I said, no!” the younger voice firmly replied. “The old man has a particular plan for this one. Hey, I didn’t know you speak Spanish!”
“You don’t know a thing about me, son. What does he want with her?” the other man inquired in a hushed tone.
“If you need to know, he’ll tell you. If not, keep your piehole shut. Let’s go! He’ll be here soon.”
The terrified woman lay on the cold floor, in the dark, afraid to move or make a sound. Please, God! What are they going to do to me?
As the young woman opened her eyes in total darkness, she felt dazed and disoriented. She tried to move her hand to find her comforter to cover up but couldn’t move. Fear froze her insides as she felt her hands tied behind her back and feet tightly bound as well. Where am I? How did I get here? Am I dreaming? As she tugged at the ropes, the realization hit her hard when she felt the thin plastic cord cutting into her flesh. She wanted to scream but her mouth was chalk dry, she could only utter a whimpering sound.
She shifted her body. It feels like I’m lying on a damp concrete floor. How did I get here from my house, from my bed? Frantic thoughts were racing through her mind. She swallowed hard and tried to scream again. “Help!” she managed to croak out. “Somebody! Help me, please!” she sobbed.
“She’s up,” a man’s raspy whisper sounded as if he was behind a door. “Lemme see her,” he spoke, and she heard a low, squeaky sound as the doorknob was turned.
“Hands off, old man!” a deep, younger-sounding voice growled. “She’s not yours. He wants her. El maldito viejo Bastardo.” (*the damned old bastard*) He continued in Spanish.
“Solo puedo estar de acuerdo con esa afirmación, (*I can only agree with that statement*)” the man with the raspy voice replied in Spanish and switched to English. “Just a little peek. He doesn’t have to know.” He chuckled.
“I said, no!” the younger voice firmly replied. “The old man has a particular plan for this one. Hey, I didn’t know you speak Spanish!”
“You don’t know a thing about me, son. What does he want with her?” the other man inquired in a hushed tone.
“If you need to know, he’ll tell you. If not, keep your piehole shut. Let’s go! He’ll be here soon.”
The terrified woman lay on the cold floor, in the dark, afraid to move or make a sound. Please, God! What are they going to do to me?
16 days ago
The sun barely rose when Luke Castleberry woke up with a wicked headache and groggily checked if his wife, Ava, was awake. She must have woken earlier, her side of the bed is cold. She probably couldn't sleep and is making breakfast already. Good. I could use a strong cup of coffee. He shuffled to the bathroom and thought, I feel like I've been through a wash cycle. After splashing water on his face, he raked his fingers through his thick blond hair. He brushed his teeth, grabbed his robe, and headed down to the kitchen.
Ava wasn’t there and the entire Wilbert mansion was eerily quiet. Where is she? I hope she didn’t go out for a walk alone. As he searched the house, his anxiety grew, and he had a foreboding feeling that something terrible might have happened. He checked on the children; they were still asleep. He closed their doors and knocked on the nanny’s door. Maria, a petite, Hispanic woman opened the door a crack, holding her nightgown close to her neck, covering her breasts. “What’s wrong? The children...” she cried out with a horrified expression on her face.
“The children are fine,” Luke assured her. “But I can’t seem to find Ava anywhere.”
“I’ll get dressed,” Maria turned and rushed back into her room.
“I’ll call Matilda and John to help with the search. Let the children sleep, and I don’t want to wake my father-in-law either,” Luke took the phone from his pocket as he headed downstairs.
Within minutes, Matilda, the plump housekeeper, adjusting her silver hair into a bun, hurried through the entrance, wearing a flowery dress and apron. The tall, bony man in overalls and boots she followed was her husband, John. Matilda whispered with disapproval, "You should've changed your boots. And look at you! Didn’t shave either."
The groundskeeper had a sheepish look on his face, “I should have, but I was about to feed the chickens when Master Luke called,” he whispered his excuse.
Maria joined them in the main hall. “We must find her!” Luke yelled, wringing his hands. “I’ve been looking everywhere, but let’s search the house again and the garden too,” he instructed. “Something terrible happened, I can feel it. She might be lying somewhere, injured. Or worse!”
The group split up and searched every room in the mansion. Matilda methodically searched every room with Maria and Luke as John checked the garden and outbuildings.
They couldn’t find Ava anywhere. The noisy commotion woke Michael, Ava’s father. What’s going on? As fast as his arthritic hands allowed, he dressed and shuffled downstairs. He found Luke in the hall. “What’s happening? Is something wrong?” he asked, imagining the worst, feeling the sinking sensation in his stomach.
“I didn’t want to wake you so early, but it’s Ava—she’s missing. She wasn’t in bed when I woke up and we can’t find her anywhere,” Luke answered in a trembling voice.
“Did she say anything last night? Did you two have a fight?”
“No! We went to bed as usual. As a matter of fact, she had some good news that made me happy. The concert she’d been invited to in Vienna next month, had been canceled. She wasn’t too happy about it, but I was.”
“Did she take one of the cars? Maybe she drove to town to pick up something?” Michael speculated.
“No, the cars are in the garage. The odd thing is that she didn’t seem to get dressed, just disappeared in her nightgown, barefoot. Her robe is in the bathroom and slippers by the bed, phone on her bedside table, and Matilda checked her closet and said that none of her clothes or shoes are missing as far as she can tell.”
“Okay, let’s not lose our heads here. There must be a reasonable explanation. Let’s search the house and grounds again. I’m calling the police.”
“I doubt they could do anything yet. It hasn’t even been 24 hours,” Luke worried. This isn’t not like her. She wouldn’t just leave in a nightgown leaving everything and the children behind. Something is very wrong, dad. She must’ve been kidnapped,” Luke said to his father-in-law as he focused his gaze outside through the large side window.
“I must admit, you might be right. I’ll call Steve. He’s the Chief Superintendent, he might make an exception for us,” the old man hurried to his study.
The sun barely rose when Luke Castleberry woke up with a wicked headache and groggily checked if his wife, Ava, was awake. She must have woken earlier, her side of the bed is cold. She probably couldn't sleep and is making breakfast already. Good. I could use a strong cup of coffee. He shuffled to the bathroom and thought, I feel like I've been through a wash cycle. After splashing water on his face, he raked his fingers through his thick blond hair. He brushed his teeth, grabbed his robe, and headed down to the kitchen.
Ava wasn’t there and the entire Wilbert mansion was eerily quiet. Where is she? I hope she didn’t go out for a walk alone. As he searched the house, his anxiety grew, and he had a foreboding feeling that something terrible might have happened. He checked on the children; they were still asleep. He closed their doors and knocked on the nanny’s door. Maria, a petite, Hispanic woman opened the door a crack, holding her nightgown close to her neck, covering her breasts. “What’s wrong? The children...” she cried out with a horrified expression on her face.
“The children are fine,” Luke assured her. “But I can’t seem to find Ava anywhere.”
“I’ll get dressed,” Maria turned and rushed back into her room.
“I’ll call Matilda and John to help with the search. Let the children sleep, and I don’t want to wake my father-in-law either,” Luke took the phone from his pocket as he headed downstairs.
Within minutes, Matilda, the plump housekeeper, adjusting her silver hair into a bun, hurried through the entrance, wearing a flowery dress and apron. The tall, bony man in overalls and boots she followed was her husband, John. Matilda whispered with disapproval, "You should've changed your boots. And look at you! Didn’t shave either."
The groundskeeper had a sheepish look on his face, “I should have, but I was about to feed the chickens when Master Luke called,” he whispered his excuse.
Maria joined them in the main hall. “We must find her!” Luke yelled, wringing his hands. “I’ve been looking everywhere, but let’s search the house again and the garden too,” he instructed. “Something terrible happened, I can feel it. She might be lying somewhere, injured. Or worse!”
The group split up and searched every room in the mansion. Matilda methodically searched every room with Maria and Luke as John checked the garden and outbuildings.
They couldn’t find Ava anywhere. The noisy commotion woke Michael, Ava’s father. What’s going on? As fast as his arthritic hands allowed, he dressed and shuffled downstairs. He found Luke in the hall. “What’s happening? Is something wrong?” he asked, imagining the worst, feeling the sinking sensation in his stomach.
“I didn’t want to wake you so early, but it’s Ava—she’s missing. She wasn’t in bed when I woke up and we can’t find her anywhere,” Luke answered in a trembling voice.
“Did she say anything last night? Did you two have a fight?”
“No! We went to bed as usual. As a matter of fact, she had some good news that made me happy. The concert she’d been invited to in Vienna next month, had been canceled. She wasn’t too happy about it, but I was.”
“Did she take one of the cars? Maybe she drove to town to pick up something?” Michael speculated.
“No, the cars are in the garage. The odd thing is that she didn’t seem to get dressed, just disappeared in her nightgown, barefoot. Her robe is in the bathroom and slippers by the bed, phone on her bedside table, and Matilda checked her closet and said that none of her clothes or shoes are missing as far as she can tell.”
“Okay, let’s not lose our heads here. There must be a reasonable explanation. Let’s search the house and grounds again. I’m calling the police.”
“I doubt they could do anything yet. It hasn’t even been 24 hours,” Luke worried. This isn’t not like her. She wouldn’t just leave in a nightgown leaving everything and the children behind. Something is very wrong, dad. She must’ve been kidnapped,” Luke said to his father-in-law as he focused his gaze outside through the large side window.
“I must admit, you might be right. I’ll call Steve. He’s the Chief Superintendent, he might make an exception for us,” the old man hurried to his study.