She opened up the front door and stepped outside.
Inside Billy’s Impala, he saw Becky standing outside by her front door and watched while she pulled out a Glock pistol out of her back pocket.
“I want you to stay away or I’ll call the police!” Becky yelled out at Billy’s car.
Billy knew she was a good shot because Allan would tell him stories on how they practiced at a local gun range when she was a teenager. He started up his car and drove away not wanting to draw a visit by the police.
Becky went back inside her house and closed the door. She turned around and saw Allan standing four feet away down the hallway.
“What’s the matter?” he asked being concerned.
“Uncle Billy was parked across the street,” she said then walked away down the hallway still pissed.
Allan followed her into her bedroom where she tucked her Glock back in her hiding place in the closet.
Allan thought for a few seconds. “Becky, I was wondering if you could find it in your heart to forgive Uncle Billy.”
“No!” she snapped back.
“Becky, that happened so long ago and he’s sorry. Can't you please find it in your heart to forgive him? He'll be your only family and has the money to take care of you.”
Becky got visibly upset and glared at him. “I'm going to ignore the fact you forgave him for that horrible act!”
Becky stormed out of her bedroom.
Allan left her room and went back to his bedroom. He sat back down on his bed with his laptop. He opened up his new manuscript and his eyes welled up while he looked at his new story.
It was now April and Allan mailed the manuscripts for Murder at Night and A Killer’s Tale off to Rodney two weeks ago.
Becky and Allan sat, with a blanket around his legs, in the living room. He now weighed one hundred and fifteen pounds. Flabby skin remained where that pot belly once protruded. A wheel chair was near the couch since he did not have the strength to walk anymore.
Allan glanced at some paperwork in his hand. “Rodney’s expecting this release, as it will give you all my royalties from the sale of my new books and any royalties from my other books,” he strained to talk then handed her the signed papers. “Use the money for Michael and Nancy’s college fund.”
Becky took the papers and her eyes welled up. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. I just hope my new book becomes a best seller like Rodney believes it will,” he said then coughed.
“He really believes that?”
“He does and I hope it works out the way I want it to,” he strained to tell her.
“How's that?” she curiously asked.
“I don't want to spoil the big secret, so you'll have to wait,” he said and looked like he wanted to fall asleep any second.
“I hope it's not Army secrets.”
Allan nodded his head to disagree to save his strength since talking was becoming too difficult.
Allan got a little remorseful then coughed a little.
He mustered up some more strength. “Listen, I changed my mind about Uncle Billy,” he said then took a rest for a few seconds. “Don't let him near my house or near you. I have something I don't want him to get his hands on,” he said and took a rest for a few more seconds. “I want you to find it and,” he said then stopped to catch his breath as talking was wearing him down. “I want you to do what's right,” he concluded and looked glad he finally completed his words.
“That's clear as mud. Can you help me out a little?” she said and looked confused.
“Read A Killer’s Tale,” he strained to tell her.
“You and your mysteries. Marty should love this one.”
“I’m tired,” he said and closed his eyes.
Becky got up and assisted Allan up off the couch and into his wheel chair.
She wheeled him out of the living room and into his bedroom and up to his bed. She assisted him on his back and made sure he was comfortable. She kissed his forehead then walked out the room.
His eyes closed and he was soon asleep.
After dinner Becky went into Allan’s room to check up on him.
Allan lay in bed with a blank stare at the ceiling.
“Dad,” she said while she walked up to Allan’s bed. Allan remained silent.
She got suspicious so she felt for a pulse. She did not get one and immediately knew he passed away.
She dropped to her knees and cried by the side of his bed.
Marty, Michael and Nancy heard Becky’s cries and they rushed into the bedroom.
“He’s gone!” she cried out while she held Allan’s hand.
Michael and Nancy’s eyes welled up over the loss of their grandfather.
A few days later, Allan was buried in Heavenly Peace Cemetery in Orlando next to his wife Beverly.
A week later, Becky with a potted flower and a trowel in her hand, Marty, Nancy and Michael stood and stared at Allan's headstone.
"Allan Stein, Loving And Caring Father, Born September 11, 1936, Died April 12, 2005,” was written on his white granite headstone.
Becky knelt down and planted the flower by his headstone.
Nancy knelt down and assisted Becky.
They stood up and tears ran down Becky’s cheeks.
Nancy looked up at the sky and blew a kiss. “I love you Grandpa. Give Grandma a kiss for me.”
Marty placed an arm around Becky. “We better go,” he said.
She removed a Kleenex from her purse and nodded in agreement while she blew her nose.
They walked away from Allan’s grave.
They got about fifty feet from Allan's headstone when Becky got an eerie chill. She stopped dead in her tracks and Marty noticed.
“What's the matter honey?”
Becky turned around and saw Billy standing at Allan's headstone, and she got pissed. “He was told I didn't want him here!”
“Who's that man by grandpa’s grave?” Nancy asked curiously while she eyed Billy.
“Nobody. Let's go,” she told Marty.
Becky grabbed Nancy and Michael's hands while she rushed them away.
Billy watched Becky and her family leave. He pondered his next move while he stared down at Allan’s headstone.
Chapter 4
It was now September and life moved on for Becky.
Allan’s new books A Killer’s Tale and Murder at Night were on sale in the bookstores across the nation. Becky even received a six thousand dollar check for advanced royalties. She immediately put it in a special savings account for Nancy and Michael’s college fund.
In Daytona Beach, Sam and Cindy ate lunch at Momma’s Home Cooking restaurant just Interstate I-95.
“Kristen's going to be in a play at her school next month,” Cindy said then sipped some sweet tea.
“What's it about?” Sam asked while he sipped his sweet tea.
Cindy motioned for him to wait while she rummaged through her purse.
“I know, that Fall Killer was sick in the way he would tie the women up naked to a tree, then beat them with a baseball bat,” a man told his woman friend at the booth behind Sam.
“And it sure was creepy how he would leave a number on the girl’s stomach, as his calling card,” the woman replied.
Sam's ears perked up and got interested with the couple’s discussion. He turned around and glanced at the couple.
“Her play is about Romeo and Juliet,” Cindy said when she found the flyer.
“I loved how he sent that FBI agent those taunting letters,” the woman told her friend who nodded in agreement.
Cindy saw Sam was interested with the couple behind them ignoring her response. “Sam, I said. Romeo and Juliet. She's been practicing her heart out all week,” Cindy repeated a little louder.
“Excuse me. What are you talking about?” Sam asked the couple.
Cindy looked upset Sam ignored her again.
“That new book, A Killers Tale. It's about so
me guy who killed five girls in the south during the sixties,” the woman replied.
“It sounds like that October Slayer I remember reading about on the Internet,” the man added.
Sam looked extremely curious.
“Sam!”
Sam ignored Cindy while he looked at the couple.
“Sam!” she repeated.
Sam turned back around and looked at Cindy. “Yes dear?”
“I believe I was talking to you!” she scolded with a stern look.
“I'm sorry.”
“What was so important with their conservation to cause you to ignore me?” Cindy said while she glared at Sam.
“This new book that came out. It sounds like this case I worked on years ago.”
Cindy looked bothered. “Let’s not go there again. Please!” she pleaded.
“Okay, I won’t. So, tell me about her play,” he added with interest.
“Anyway, her play will be next month and she wants us there. It’s Romeo and Juliet.”
“It would be a pleasure to attend,” he said then he drank his sweet tea. Thoughts of that new book started to occupy his mind.
The next day over in Kissimmee, Becky sat in her kitchen and drank her second cup of coffee while she read the Orlando Sentinel newspaper.
Marty walked inside with a copy of A Killer’s Tale book in one hand and his coffee cup in another. He read the third chapter while he walked up to the counter and poured his second cup of coffee. He walked over to the table and sat down.
“I bought a copy of your dad's new books, Murder at Night and A Killer’s Tale,” he said. “A Killer’s Tale sounds very much like that October Slayer case from the sixties that never got solved,” he said while he held up the book where the back cover had pictures of five headstones with the names of the five girls killed.
Becky grabbed the book out of his hands and looked it over. “It sounds like this was Dad's version of what happened with that old sixties case,” she said while she handed the book to Marty. “He sure loved solving mysteries.”
“Would you like to read it after I'm finished?”
“No thank you. I had enough of murder mysteries while I edited his previous manuscripts,” she said then returned to her newspaper.
“Maybe I'll figure out that little secret your father mentioned,” Marty said then returned to his reading.
“Maybe. All I know so far is that Uncle creepy hasn't harassed me about wanting something. So I don't have a clue what Dad meant,” she said while her eyes were glued to her newspaper.
The kitchen phone rang, and she looked at Marty who was engrossed in his book. She waited for him to get up. He was not going to budge.
She rolled her eyes while she got up and walked over to the phone.
“Becky Adams,” she answered.
“Hello Becky, William DeHart from the reality company over in St. Cloud. I have some bad news about your father's house.”
“What's wrong?”
Marty did not pay attention since he was too engrossed in his book.
“I just found out a lien was placed on your father's house by a Billy Stein. Do you know who this man could be? Is he related to your father?”
Becky looked pissed while she paced around the kitchen.
“He’s my uncle and I don’t know why he would do that,” she replied then she thought about it for a few seconds. “Wait, I know why. He’s a creep!”
“Well, apparently, he's stating his brother was supposed to will him the house and its contents. We can't sell it until this lien is removed.”
“I don't believe this!” she yelled out.
Marty looked up from his book and got concerned with Becky who furiously paced in circles.
“I'll see what I can do to get it removed. But it might cost you some time in court.”
“I'm going to change the locks of his house. Call me if you can work something out without spending time in court.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” William said then disconnected his end of the call.
Becky hung up the phone and looked like she wanted to kill someone.
“What's wrong dear?”
“Uncle Billy put a lien on Daddy's house and now we can’t sell it until it’s removed. Bastard!”
Marty watched Becky while she stormed out of the kitchen.
Way up in Curtis, Mississippi was the Stein Chevrolet dealership. Alvin Stein founded it in 1925 when he was a young man. Billy now owns the dealership, as Allan wanted to spend his life with the Army. Allan would state that selling cars was considered a boring life and wanted thrills that the Army provided.
Billy sat behind his desk in his office where numerous old pictures of Allan and him on fishing trips hung on the wall. These were annual trips he took with his brother from 1957 – 1972.
Billy read his copy of A Killer’s Tale book and was halfway through it. In fact, he read all of Allan’s books and kept a copy on a shelf in his office. But this new book gave him grave concerns.
Later that night, Sam and Cindy went to the Barnes and Noble bookstore. They walked around for a while, then Sam went in one direction and Cindy went off in another.
Cindy checked out a book about the history of the Biltmore Estates. She longed to visit that beautiful home and it was one of the items on her bucket list.
Sam looked around and saw a display of A Killer’s Tale books. He walked away but thoughts of the book weighed on his mind.
He walked over two aisles and saw Cindy reading a Biltmore Estates book. He looked back in at the display of A Killer’s books.
He walked back and stopped four feet from the display. A man walked over, picked up a copy and rushed away to the cashier.
Sam walked away while he fought the urge to get a copy. But the urge became too strong. He rushed back to the display and quickly and snatched a book before he changed his mind.
Cindy walked up to Sam with her Biltmore Estates book in hand.
“I’m ready if you are,” she said then saw a book in his hand. “What did you buy?”
“I can’t help it. I’m going to get the A Killer’s Tale.”
“Oh honey, let it go. Didn't that case bring you nightmares that stopped after you retired?” she said and was worried for Sam.
“I haven't had one in eight years, so, it wouldn't hurt to read it.”
Cindy knew he was stubborn and would come back here on his own later on. “What ever,” she said then walked toward the cash registers.
“What did you get?”
“A book on the history of the Biltmore Estates. Since someone won't take me there, I thought I would read about it,” she replied with a hint.
“I’ll take you there. I promise,” he said with a warm smile.
“When?” she asked excitedly.
“Whenever you can slip away from your job. After all, I’m retired and have all the time in the world.”
Cindy thought for a few seconds while they got to the entrance to the cashiers and waited in line. “I can get away in two weeks.”
“Then it’s a date,” Sam replied and followed up with a kiss on her cheek to seal the deal.
Meanwhile, over in Kissimmee, Becky and Marty sat on the couch in the den. Marty was deep into the A Killer’s Tale book while Becky watched a Disney movie with the kids.
“So far, this book is great. We might have a best seller on our hands,” Marty said while he started a new chapter.
Becky was too engrossed in the movie and did not hear Marty.
The phone rang in the kitchen.
Becky looked at Marty and he had his head buried in his book and did not budge an inch.
She got up and walked out of the den.
She walked up over to the ringing phone.
“Becky Adams,” she answered.
“Becky, it's Uncle Billy,” he replied from the phone.
Becky cringed and got the creeps. “What the hell do you want?”
“Listen, it’s extremely important I get t
he chance to search through Allan's house. He has something he wanted me to keep. Something that belongs to me,” Billy replied in the sweetest tone he could fake.
“I’m sorry, but he didn't mention you in his will! So the answer is, no!”
“He mentioned it when we recently went fishing down there in Florida. So if you let me search through his house just once, I’ll leave you alone and you’ll never see or hear from me again.”
“No! And why did you put a lien on his house? I want it removed immediately!” she yelled into the phone.
“If you let me inside his house, that lien will disappear forever,” Billy said and sounded serious.
“Bastard!” Becky yelled out then strangled the phone. She slammed the receiver down.
She stormed out of the kitchen and headed back into the den.
She plopped down on the couch and sat with her arms crossed. She fumed.
Marty still had his head buried in his book.
“I hate that man!”
Marty glanced over at Becky and saw she was furious.
“What's the matter, honey?”
“That was Uncle Billy. He wants something. What I don’t know. And he won’t remove that lien until I let him search dad’s house,” she said and her eyes welled up as this was becoming too stressful.
“Let him. What would it hurt?”
“I’ll never let him set on foot in dad’s house. Never!” she responded with gritted teeth.
She got up and Marty and the kids watched her storm out of the den.
Way over in Daytona Beach, Sam walked into his den with his A Killer’s Tale book in hand.
He walked past a wall where an updated picture of Charles hung. Charles was now a Brigadier General. Sam sat down on his lazy boy chair and opened the book to Chapter 1 of A Killer’s Tale.
Up in Curtis, Mississippi, Billy sat in his Lazy Boy chair with his A Killer’s Tale book in hand. He looked pissed that Becky would not allow him access into Allan’s house. He schemed.
Chapter 5
A Killer’s Tale story by Allan Stein started…
Confession Page 3