The Dead Will Tell by Linda Castillo is the 6th murder mystery in the Kate Burkholder series that takes place in Amish Country (available July 8, 2014).
Everyone in Painters Mill knows the abandoned Hochstetler farm is haunted. But only a handful of the residents remember the terrible secrets lost in the muted/hushed whispers of time—and now death is stalking them, seemingly from the grave.
On a late-night shift, Chief of Police Kate Burkholder is called to the scene of an apparent suicide—an old man found hanging from the rafters in his dilapidated barn. But evidence quickly points to murder and Kate finds herself chasing a singularly difficult and elusive trail of evidence that somehow points back to the tragedy of that long ago incident. Meanwhile, Kate has moved in with state agent John Tomasetti and for the first time in so long, they're both happy; a bliss quickly shattered when one of the men responsible for the murders of Tomasetti’s family four years ago is found not guilty, and walks away a free man. Will Tomasetti be pulled back to his own haunted past?
When a second man is found dead—also seemingly by his own hand—Kate discovers a link in the case that sends the investigation in a direction no one could imagine and revealing the horrifying truth of what really happened that terrible night thirty-five years ago, when an Amish father and his four children perished—and his young wife disappeared without a trace.
And, as Kate knows—the past never truly dies.
Chapter 1
Present day
It had been a long time since he’d closed down a bar, especially a dive like the Brass Rail Saloon. The music was too loud, the liquor was bottom-shelf, and the crowd was too young and rowdy to do anything but give him a headache. It was the last kind of place you’d find a man like him. The last kind of place he wanted to be. Tonight, it suited his needs to a T. The place was dark and anonymous—and no one would remember him.
He’d received four notes so far, each becoming progressively more disturbing. He discovered the first in his mailbox last week. I know what you did. The second was taped to the windshield of his Lexus. I know what all of you did. He found the third note lying on the threshold inside the storm door off the kitchen. Meet me or I go to the police. Each note was written in blue ink on a sheet of lined notebook paper that had been torn in half. He’d found the fourth note earlier this evening, taped to the front door. Hochstetler farm. 1 a.m. Come alone.
At first he’d tried to convince himself he didn’t understand the meaning of the messages. There were a lot of crazies out there. He was a successful man, after all. He had a nice home. Lived a comfortable lifestyle. Drove an expensive car. In the eyes of a few, that made him fair game. A target because someone else wanted what he had, and they were willing to do whatever it took to get it.
He’d crumpled the notes and tossed them in the trash. He’d done his best to forget about them. But he knew the problem wasn’t going to go away.
I know what all of you did.
Someone knew things they shouldn’t. About him. About the others. About that night. They knew things no one could possibly know.
Unless they’d been there, a little voice added.
He’d racked his brain, trying to figure out who. There was only one explanation: Someone was going to blackmail him. But who?
Then two nights ago, he saw her, walking alongside the road near his house. But when he’d stopped for a better look, she was gone, leaving him to wonder if he’d seen anything at all. Or maybe it was his conscience playing tricks on him.
It had been years since he spoke to the others. But after receiving the third note, he’d done his due diligence and made the calls. None of them admitted to having received any sort of suspicious correspondence, but promised to let him know if that changed. If any of them knew more than they were letting on, they didn’t let it show.
After finding the latest note, he’d gone about his business as usual the rest of the evening. He’d ordered Chinese takeout and watched a movie. Afterwards, he’d broken the seal on the bottle of Macallan Scotch whisky his daughter gave him for Christmas two years ago. At eleven thirty, restless and edgy, he’d opened the gun cabinet, loaded the Walther .380 and dropped it into the inside pocket of his jacket. Grabbing the keys to his Lexus, he drove to the only place he knew of that was still open: the Brass Rail Saloon.
Now, sitting at a back booth with chain saw rock echoing in his ears and two shots of watered-down Scotch burning a hole in his gut, he stared at the clock on the wall and waited.
I know what all of you did.
Watching two young girls who didn’t look old enough to drink head toward the dance floor, he tugged his iPhone from his pocket and scrolled down to the number he wanted. It was too late to call, especially a man who was little more than a stranger to him these days, so he drafted a text instead.
Meet is on. Will call 2 let you know outcome.
He sat there for a moment before pressing Send, staring at the phone, assuring himself there was no way anyone could know what he’d done. It had been thirty-five years. A lifetime. He’d married, built a successful real estate firm, raised four children, and gone through a divorce. He was semi-retired now. A grandfather and respected member of the community. He’d put that night behind him. Forgotten it had ever happened. Or tried to.
Someone knows.
A knife-stab of dread sank deep into his gut. Sighing, he dropped the phone back into his pocket and glanced up at the clock again. Almost 1 A.M. Time to go. Finishing his drink, he grabbed his keys off the table and then made for the door.
Ten minutes later he was heading north on Old Germantown Road. Around him the rain was coming down so hard, he could barely see the dividing lines.
“Keep it between the beacons,” he muttered, taking comfort in the sound of his own voice.
All these years, he’d believed the past no longer had a hold on him. Sometimes he almost convinced himself that night had never really happened. That it was a recurring nightmare and an overactive imagination run amok. But on nights like this, the truth had a way of sneaking up on you, like a garrote slipping over your head. And he knew—he’d always known—somewhere inside the beating, cancerous mass that was his conscience, that some sins could never be forgiven. He owed penance for what he’d done. And he’d always known that someday fate or God—or maybe Satan himself—would see to it that he paid his debt.
Gripping the steering wheel, he leaned forward so that his nose was just a few inches from the windshield. The rain drumming against the roof was as loud as a hail of bullets against tin siding. On the stereo Jim Morrison’s haunting voice rose above the roar. There was something reassuring about music on nights like this. It was a sign of life and reminded him there were other people out there and made him feel less isolated and a little less alone. Tonight, he swore to God that was the same song that had been playing that night.
Glancing away from the road, he reached down and punched the button for another station. When he looked up, she was there, on the road, scant yards from his bumper. He stomped the brake hard. The Lexus skidded sideways. The headlights played crazily against the curtain of rain, the black trunks of the trees. The car spun 180 degrees before jolting to a halt, facing the wrong direction.
For the span of several heartbeats, he sat there, breathing heavily, gripping the wheel hard enough to make his knuckles ache. He’d never believed in ghosts, but he knew there was no way in hell he could have seen what his eyes were telling him. Wanetta Hochstetler had been dead for thirty-five years. It had to be the booze playing tricks on him.
Fearing a cop would happen by and find him sitting in his car in the dead of night with his hands shaking and the smell of rotgut whiskey on his breath, he turned the vehicle around. But he couldn’t leave. Not without making sure. He squinted through the windshield, but his headlight beams revealed nothing on the road or shoulder. A quiver of uneasiness went through him when he spotted the old mailbox. The thing had been bashed in a dozen times over the decades—by teenagers with beer bottles or baseball bats—and even peppered with holes from shotgun pellets. But he could still make out the name: HOCHSTETLER.
He didn’t have a slicker or flashlight, but there was no avoiding getting out of the vehicle. He was aware of the pistol in his pocket, but it didn’t comfort him, didn’t make him feel any safer. Leaving the engine running, he turned up the collar of his jacket and swung open the door. Rain lashed his face as he stepped into the night. Water poured down his collar, the cold clenching the back of his neck like cadaver fingers.
“Who’s there?” he called out.
He went around to the front of the vehicle and checked the bumper and hood. No dents. No blood. Just to be sure, he rounded the front end and ran his hands over the quarter panel on the passenger side, too. Not so much as a scratch. He hadn’t hit anything, human or otherwise. Just his tired eyes playing tricks …
He was standing outside the passenger door when she stepped out of the darkness and fog. The sight of her paralyzed him with fear. With something worse than fear. The knowledge that he’d been wrong. That time never forgot, no matter how badly you wanted it to—and the reckoning had finally come.
Her dress clung to a body that was still slender and strong and supple. The pouring rain and darkness obscured the details of her face. But she still had that rose-petal mouth and full lips. Long hair that had yet to go gray. He knew it was impossible for her to be standing there, unchanged, after all these years. After what happened to her. After what they did to her.
“It can’t be you.” The voice that squeezed from his throat was the sound of an old man on his deathbed, gagging on his own sputum, begging for a miracle that wasn’t going to come.
Her mouth pulled into a smile that turned his skin to ice. “You look surprised to see me.”
“You’re dead.” He scraped unsteady fingers over his face, blinked water from his eyes. But when he opened them, she was still there, as alive and familiar as the woman who’d been visiting his nightmares for thirty-five years. “How—?”
Never taking her eyes from his, she opened the driver’s-side door, and killed the engine. Keys in hand, she went to the rear of the vehicle and pressed the trunk release. The latch clicked and the trunk sprang open.
“Get in,” she said.
When he didn’t move she produced a revolver and leveled it at his chest. He thought of the Walther in his pocket, wondered if he could get to it before she shot him dead.
He raised his hands. “What do you want?”
Stepping closer, she jabbed the revolver at him so that the muzzle was just two feet from his forehead. Her arm was steady, her finger inside the guard, snug against the trigger. “Do it.”
Shaking uncontrollably, he climbed into the trunk and looked up at her. “We didn’t mean it. I swear we didn’t mean it.”
He didn’t hear the shot.
* * * *
Belinda Harrington stood on the porch of her father’s house and knocked on the door hard enough to rattle the frame. “Dad?” She waited a minute and then used the heel of her hand and gave the wood a dozen hard whacks. “Dad? You home?”
She’d been trying to reach him for two days now, but he hadn’t returned her calls. That wasn’t unusual; the man was independent to a fault. He’d been known to ignore calls when it suited him. Still, two days was a long time. Even for Dale Michaels.
Wishing she’d remembered to bring her umbrella, she scanned the driveway through the cascade of water coming off the roof. His Lexus was parked in its usual spot; he had to be here somewhere. She wondered if he’d found himself a lady friend and they were holed up at her place or a hotel up in Wooster. Belinda wouldn’t put it past him. Mom hadn’t come right out and said it, but she let Belinda know in no uncertain terms that fidelity had never been one of Dale Michaels’s strong points.
Cupping her hands on either side of her mouth, she called for him. “Dad!”
Her eyes wandered to the barn twenty yards away, and for the first time, she noticed the sliding door standing open a couple of feet. Though he’d never been burglarized, her father was a stickler about security. He wouldn’t leave the barn door open, especially if he wasn’t home. The initial fingers of worry kneaded the back of her neck. Had he gone out to feed the chickens and fallen? Was he lying there, unable to get up and waiting for help? He wasn’t accident prone, but she supposed something could’ve happened. What if he’d had a heart attack?
Tenting her jacket over her head, she jogged across the gravel. The rain was really coming down, and by the time she reached the barn, her shoes and the hem of her pants were soaked. Shoving open the barn door another foot, Belinda stepped inside and shook rain from her jacket. The interior was dark and smelled of chicken poop and moldy hay. A few feet away, three bantam hens scratched and pecked at the floor. Stupid things. She wondered why her father kept them. Half the time, they didn’t lay eggs and spent their days tearing up the petunias she’d planted for him last spring. Pulling her jacket closed against the cold, she flipped the light switch, but the single bulb didn’t help much.
“Dad? You out here?”
Belinda listened for a response, but it was difficult to hear anything above the incessant pound of rain against the tin shingles. There were a dozen or so places where water dripped down from the leaky roof to form puddles on the dirt floor. At least the chickens had plenty to drink.
The barn was a massive structure with falling-down horse stalls and high rafters laced with cobwebs. As kids, she and her brother had played out here; they’d even had a pony once. But neither she nor her brother had been interested in animals, and once her father had gotten his real estate company up and running, the place became a workshop where he tinkered with cars. The workbench with the Peg-Board back was still there, but the tools were covered with dust. A dozen or so boards were stacked haphazardly against the wall. The old rototiller stood in silhouette against the window where dingy light bled in. When her brother was twelve years old, he’d nearly taken his foot off with that thing.
The loose dirt from the floor stuck to her shoes as she crossed to the workbench. Belinda called out for him one final time and started for the door. She was midway there when something to her right, on the other side of a fat beam caught her attention. Cautiously, she moved closer and looked up, found herself staring at the leather soles of shoes and the hems of slacks. She stumbled back, her eyes taking in legs and then the torso of a man. One arm hanging down. Neck bent at an unnatural angle.
A sound she didn’t recognize tore from her throat. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that thing hanging from the rafters was her father. That he was dead and she was sad his life had ended this way, and without so much as a good-bye. But the shock of seeing his lifeless body, so grotesque in death, overrode any impending sense of grief or loss.
“Dad! Oh my God! Dad! What did you do?”
Screaming, Belinda Harrington turned and sprinted through the door and into the pouring rain.
Chapter 2
John Tomasetti is standing at the kitchen counter chopping green peppers when my cell erupts. I’m sitting at the table with my laptop open, pretending I’m not watching him, drafting an e-mail to Mayor Auggie Brock, and absently wishing diplomacy wasn’t such a big part of my job.
“Saved by the bell,” he says.
I toss him a sideways look as I rise and go to my cell, which is about to vibrate off the counter. I catch it on the third ring. “Burkholder.”
“It’s Glock.”
Rupert “Glock” Maddox is one of four police officers that make up my small department. A former marine with two tours in Afghanistan under his belt, he’s well trained, level-headed and laid back, traits I admire greatly, especially in law enforcement. He usually works first shift, but I vaguely recall he’d traded with another officer for a couple of nights this week.
“Hey.” Out of the corner of my eye I see Tomasetti grab an onion off the cutting board and attack it with the knife. I can’t help it—I smile. “What’s up?”
“I got a DOA out here at the Michaels place. Guy hanging from the rafters in his barn.”
“Suicide?”
“Looks like it.”
“Any idea who it is?”
“I think it’s Dale Michaels.”
The name is vaguely familiar, but I don’t believe I’ve ever met Michaels. I recall he had something to do with the development of the affluent Maple Crest subdivision. “Who found him?”
“Daughter.”
“Doc Coblentz on the way?” I ask, referring to the coroner.
“Should be here shortly.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Roger that.”
I unplug the phone from where it had been charging and turn to see Tomasetti drying his hands on a dish towel. “Sounds like you’ve got a dead body on your hands,” he says.
I nod. “Glock thinks it might be a suicide.”
“You know who it is?”
“Guy by the name of Dale Michaels. I don’t know him.”
“Sheriff’s office going to take it?”
“It’s city, so I’m obliged.” I glance at the bottle of Argentinean cabernet he’d opened on the counter to breathe, and a wave of disappointment moves through me. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“I guess that means I have to finish chopping all of these vegetables by myself.”
“Not to mention drink all that wine.” I smile. “One of the perils of cohabiting with the chief of police.”
He crosses to me. His arms encircle my waist and I fall against him. He smells of aftershave and green peppers and his own distinct scent I’ve come to love. I close my eyes and press my face against his chest. I know it’s a trifling thing in light of the discovery of a body, but I don’t want to leave.
“Domestication looks good on you, Tomasetti.”
“You’re just using me for my culinary skills.”
“That, too.” I rise up on my tiptoes and brush my mouth across his. “I might be a while.”
“I’ll wait.”
Pulling away from him I grab my jacket off the back of the chair. I look at him over my shoulder. He’s already picked up the knife and resumed chopping the onion. “Don’t drink that wine all by yourself,” I say.
“Don’t stay gone too long.”
We’re both smiling when I go through the door.
To learn more about, or order a copy, visit:
This sweepstakes has ended. Thanks for entering!
To enter, make sure you're a registered member of the site and simply leave a comment below.
TIP: Since only comments from registered users will be tabulated, if your user name appears in red above your comment—STOP—go log in, then try commenting again. If your user name appears in black above your comment, You’re In!
The Dead Will Tell Comment Sweepstakes: NO PURCHASE NECESSARY TO ENTER OR WIN. A purchase does not improve your chances of winning. Sweepstakes open to legal residents of 50 United States, D.C., and Canada (excluding Quebec), who are 18 years or older as of the date of entry. To enter, complete the “Post a Comment” entry at www.criminalelement.com/blogs/2014/07/the-dead-will-tell-a-new-excerpt-linda-castillo beginning at 12:00 p.m. Eastern Time (ET) July 7, 2014. Sweepstakes ends 11:59 a.m. ET July 14, 2014. Void outside the United States and Canada and where prohibited by law. Please see full details and official rules here. Sponsor: Macmillan, 175 Fifth Ave., New York, NY 10010.
Linda Castillo is the New York Times bestselling author of the Kate Burkholder novels, including Sworn to Silence and Her Last Breath, crime thrillers set in Amish country.
Nice excerpt
Enter me in, I want to rest of the story.
The excerpt really drew me in – now I want the rest.
Wow!!! Exciting excerpt!!! Can’t wait to read the rest!!! Thanks for giveaway & good luck to all!!!?
Sounds good. hope I win!
Sounds good, love to read the rest
My wife and her 30 years as a sheriff’s office employee (sworn and civilian) would love this one!
Looks really good and I’d love to win it.
I love Castillo’s writing—thanks for the opportunity to win a copy of this book!
Sounds wonderful. I want to read the rest. Please
I have read the first two in the series and I’m hooked. Linda Castillo has made it into my favorite authors list. I can’t wait to read the rest.
The Dead do tell! Yes!
Love Linda Castillo books!
I’ve read all the Kate Burkholder books, and have been hooked from the very start. When will Burkholder and Tomasetti catch a break?!
Didn’t read the excerpt because I already know I’m going to read the book. Linda Castillo had me hooked with the first one & now I’ve gotten my daughter hooked as well!
I love Linda Castillo’s Kate Burkholder series. Ms. Castillo has an amazing talent for putting the reader right into the Amish way of life.
Sounds good!
I would love to win, avid readers in our household!! 🙂
thanks for sharing your writing talent with us 🙂
Sounds very interesting!
I’m 2 books into Linda Castillo’s Burkholder series so far … better catch up so that I can get tot his and still stay in order!
I have read all the others in the series and cant wait to finish this one.
Oh goodness another good series!!
This excerpt has drawn me in. I’d love to read the rest!
Count me in, please!
This promises to be a haunting story that will keep me turning the pages!
Love the series
This series is unbelievably good – I have been waiting for this latest and can’t wait to read it. Very unique take on Amish life.
This is a fantastic series and I would love to add this to the rest 🙂
This series is unbelievably good – I have been waiting for this latest and can’t wait to read it. Very unique take on Amish life.
Fantastic opening gambit ! The film from long ago, Witness I believe it was called, rather turned me away from the Amish as a people/culture/religion over-all. Seemed like a losing position for the most part unless you were positive that Hell was fast approaching and the need for churning butter was going to save your ass from the fire.
This exerpt totally changes all of that. Seriously. Makes me wish that Witness had never been made. Been carrying that burder in my mind way too long, great to find that this exerpt/book has lifted it.
Well done ! ! ! !
have yet read any , but sounds like a good one!
I live near the large Amish community in northern Indiana, and I notice how people have an endless fascination with the Amish and the way they live. I will be looking forward to reading the book.
What a tease this teaser is! I can’t wait to read the rest, and it looks like I have a new author that I need to check out!!
I haven’t read any in this series yet , but it sounds interesting.
Please enter me in the sweepstakes.
Thanks!
Thanks for the excerpt – I really enjoy this series. And thanks for the chance to win.
Looks like my kind of book. Would love to win a copy! Going on my to be read list!
i love mystery books and this one sounds really good.
Wonderful excerpt….looks like a fabulous read…would love to win this…thank you for the opportunity
I love this series! It combines a strong female protagonist with a very interesting location and a developing relationship.
Looks like my kind of book. Would love to win a copy! Going on my to be read list!
I like this series.
OK. Linda has hooked me. I’ll have to read the rest of the book.
I’m getting hooked on these Amish mysteries and think Linda Castillo’s are the best of them.
Thanks for the costest
I could use a good murder mystery 🙂
After reading the excerpt I want to read more!
This book looks interesting and want to see how it ends now!
It sounds interesting, with two stories running side by side. Love to read the rest!
Let me know when you offer print copies. I’m not an e-copy person….Sorry
Now I HAVE to read the WHOLE story!!!!! Thanks for chance to win. This book is going to be an awesome read
Love Linda Castillo’s books, can’t wait to read this one.
What an exciting excerpt – can’t wait to read the rest!
I love all of her Kate books, and can’t wait to read another one. This one sounds just as good as the rest.
I just love the Kate Burkholder books and can’t wait to read this new one. The excert was a great teaser.
Great excerpt! Can’t wait to read the entire book.
Really looks good, can’t wait to read.
I would love to read the book
I LOVE this series
would LOVE to win
But I’m #2 @ library to READ
I’ve never read this series, but the excerpt makes we want to start. Winning would be great.
I don’t know this author but after reading this sample, I’m checking the shelves at the library for books 1-5!
Linda is a great writer. I would love to win her book!
Looks like another winner. Thanks for the giveaway.
I can not wait to read the rest of this book.
The first few of these were really good. I’d love to read this one, too.
Love to read this!
The excerpt was good, I bet the book is awesome. Would love to win!
Thanks for the chance!
Can’t wait for the book. This has me drawn in already. Would love to win!
love Linda Castillo!
I haven’t read anything by Linda Castillo. Looks like I’ve been missing a good storyteller. The excerpt has me hooked.
Would love to win.
Love this series and can’t wait to read this latest addition.
I have enjoyed other books by this author, and judging from the excerpt, this will be another good read!
I have enjoyed the earlier Kate Burkholder books, and this is already on my to read list.
I realy enjoyed Linda Castillo’s earlier books and intend to read this one also
Looking forward to reading the entire story!
Looks like another interesting read
I love this whole series and Kate is like a real friend that I get to catch up with once a year. I can’t wait to read this book!!!
Been a fan of this series since the beginning. Can’t wait for the rest of the book.
Would love to have a copy of this
This is a continuation of an intriguing well written series.
Wow! Drew me right in. Can’t wait to read this book. Bet I’ll have to read the whole series of books!
Would so love to read. It sounds like an amazing book!
Our book club is just starting the first Kate Burkholder book, Sworn to Silence, so we have some catching up to do. Thanks for the opportunity!
I haven’t read any of her books, but would love to get started.
Great exerpt! I would definitely like to read more!
I’d love to read this.
This sounds like a good book.
Would love a new amish book.
I love this series and would love to have the newest book!
I have read the rest, would love to win this one!
I love this series! What a great beginning to an exciting new mystery.
I love this type of book. And this particular book sounds quite good!
I love this series! Have read them all.
Looking forward to this newest installment!
I have read every Linda Castillo book except this newest one. I have gotten several friends hooked on her books, too. I would love to win this book.
Wow! Can’t wait to read this book!
I haven’t read any of this series yet, but after reading the excerpt I’m looking forward to this book. I would like to win this.
Looks great, thanks!
Kate Burkholder Rocks!
This sounds so good. I’d love to read the rest of the book.
looks good.
This is one of my favorite authors and I would love to have the latest in the series.
my mom would love this
Sounds very interesting. Would love to read it.
would love it
I would love to explore this series.
thanks for the chance
all in
Sounds like a great summer read!
Great read, Awesome Author.
GREAT SUMMER READ.
This sounds like a great summer read!
Can’t wait to read it.
Groovy The Dead Will Tell!
awesome
Sounds great
I would love to check this out 🙂
Looks like a good read!
sounds like a great book id love to read it
I love this series. Beautifully written.
This sounds like the kind of book that I would enjoy. I hope I win.
[b]Thanks in advance for the book.[/b]
I love a good mystery and Castillo is one of the best.
I want the rest of the story
Love this series
I am looking for something new and want to read this
Sounds like a great read 🙂
sounds like a fun one!
sounds good
Sounds like a great book to add to my collection!!!
intriguing!
sounds like a good one
would love to read
This sounds like a great mystery. I can’t wait to read it.
Love a good, page turning suspense novel.
I would like to read the work of LInda Castillo.
fantastic
I would love to read this!
on my wish list, thanks
I’d like this
The first books in the series were very good and this one looks like it will be too. I can’t wait to read it.
Good deal, count me in!
would like to read
Would love to read this – sounds like an awesome read!!!~
thank you for the chance to win!
I’m hooked.
I love these books!! I can’t wait to read this one!!
I feel lucky
Excited about this sweepstakes!
I’m ready for the rest!
YES
Looks like a good read. Thanks.
Reading is the only thing that helps me unwind after visiting my 93 year old Mother a nursing home and trying to empty her house.
Great author. Hope I wn.