The Devil's Scrapbook

By Chaz Mann

After inheriting a house from a deceased friend who died under mysterious circumstances, Lucas Wainwright finds himself entangled in a web of mystery and intrigue. Turns out, the house he inherited has a notorious background and infamous previous owner; a house full of surprises. Shortly after moving in, Lucas receives an anonymous email commanding him to locate a shadowy tin box hidden somewhere in the house. He is not told what secrets are locked inside the mysterious box, just to find it and hand it over to its rightful owner. When he fails to find the box, the unthinkable happens, setting into motion a chain of events that will change the course of his life. With the help of his three best friends; an award winning private detective, a computer whiz, and a weapons enthusiast with a keen sense of adventure, Lucas embarks on a journey into a world of desperation and greed; a world that shadows the underbelly of society and the depths of human depravity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chaz Mann
• Release date: Oct 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370160907

Chaz Mann

Chaz Mann has worked in the real estate, manufacturing, oil refining, retail, and insurance industries. He is an avid reader of multiple genres. He has earned an A.S. in Business and Industrial Management as well as a B.S. in Speech Communication. He currently resides in Fort Worth, Texas, with his lovely wife of many years, Marie.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Six years ago

Fort Worth, Texas

Rachel Trent did her best to walk as straight as possible and not draw too much attention to herself. Of course, her spiked heels and short clinging red skirt did little to dissuade onlookers from scanning her from head to toe, but she’d been used to men watching her for most of her adult life so she thought nothing of it.

Earlier in the day, after an extremely harrowing day at work, her friends had insisted on taking her out to celebrate her twenty-fourth birthday. She agreed to meet them at their favorite watering hole after she cleared up a few things with one of her clients, which hadn’t taken very long.

Are you sure you’re alright, Rach? I could walk you to your car if you’d like, asked Byron, an office colleague, as he swallowed another margarita." His hungry eyes swept over her smooth curves and shapely legs.

Rachel laughed, instinctively aware of Byron’s true motive. I’ll be just fine, Bry. Maybe another time, she answered back with a mischievous wink. Byron just shook his head and started eyeing up the red-headed beauty at the end of the bar.

Rachel stepped outside into the cool evening breeze. The light wind felt good on her damp skin, raising goose bumps on her smooth arms. She pulled out her cell phone and gazed at the digital display. Her blurry eyes finally focused after a few seconds, and to her amazement, realized it was close to two o’clock in the morning. She scanned the right side of the street. The parking lot where she lodged her car lay three blocks away. Arriving late, as always, it was the closest lot she could find in the vicinity of the bar.

She reconsidered Byron’s earlier request to walk her to her car. She glanced through the window and spotted him, but he was otherwise occupied with a long-legged redhead. Oh, well, what the hell, she said in a low voice. Again, she gazed down the street that she needed to traverse. The streets lights were shrouded in a clinging mist giving the surroundings an ethereal glow. She hugged herself involuntarily. It had apparently rained since she’d entered the tavern with her friends. The streets now glistened in the moonlight.

She’d just turned her body in the direction of the parking lot when a young, good-looking, nicely dressed young man in his early twenties stepped out of the bar and breathed in the brisk air. He nodded toward her with an engaging smile. She expected him to hit on her but was surprised when he smiled and said, Have a good night and be safe. He started walking in the same direction in which she was about to head.

Rachel watched him as he headed into the darkness of the streets. She quickly looked into the bar again, but couldn’t find Byron anywhere. He most likely had the redhead in a booth by now, laying his line on her. She made a quick decision.

Excuse me! she said, a little louder than she realized. The young man stopped and turned toward her.

Yes? He said in a smooth voice. What can I do for you?

Ah… I was wondering if I could walk with you to my car, it’s in the direction you’re heading? The man hesitated, something she’d didn’t expect. Most men jumped at the chance to walk with her, thinking it an invitation for more carnal ambitions.

He eyed her for a brief moment, then said, Sure, why not. He waited for her until she caught up with him.

They walked in silence. She thought for sure he’d start up a conversation with hopes of bedding her this night. But again she was surprised, for he remained silent as they ate up the sidewalk toward her car. Maybe he’s gay, she considered.

As they walked in silence she noticed him taking furtive glances in her direction but he remained silent.

She stared down the deserted street with growing apprehension. A feeling of unease crept through her body though she wasn’t sure why. A sudden breeze sliced through her and a feeling of loneliness suddenly overwhelmed her. In order to relieve the growing tension she felt, she decided to start up a conversation. Are you from around here? she asked evenly.

I’ve lived here most of my life. What about you?

She smiled now; feeling more relaxed with words passing between them. I just moved here two years ago.

Do you like it here? Some people have trouble with the heat and humidity, especially if they’re from the west coast. He smiled genuinely, relaxing her even more.

A wide smile spread across her face. How did you know I was from California?

Just a guess by the way you carry yourself. You California girls have a certain style that’s hard to miss, he said easily. Suddenly his cell phone rang. He reviewed the text then punched in a few lines and disconnected. Where did you say your car was located? he inquired. His eyes scanned their surroundings.

She noticed a change in the timbre of his voice.

It’s just another block or so up the street, she answered.

They were approaching a darkened area not far ahead where a streetlight no longer functioned. Now she started to get very nervous. Her eyes scanned the empty streets in hopes of spotting someone close enough to help her if she needed it. Then she chided herself for being so paranoid. The guy just wasn’t much of a talker. They continued walking along the wet, black streets.

Few cars journeyed the lonely road as they drew closer to her destination. A few passenger cars sped by followed by a delivery truck. They were now within a block of the parking lot and Rachel’s tension began to melt away with the closeness of it.

Then it happened.

A dark-colored panel truck with blackened windows suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Her walking companion rushed to her side with a needle dripping a clear liquid, and, with emptiness in his eyes, which she hadn’t noticed before, jammed it into her neck and depressed the plunger fully. The cold liquid raced through her body and all her muscles seemed to give way. Before she could hit the ground, her companion grabbed her roughly. The driver’s door sprang open and a muscular, middle-aged man with short gray hair burst out of the vehicle and raced to the back of the truck and threw open the doors. Together, they tossed Rachel’s limp body into the back. The driver, after scanning the empty streets, strolled back to the driver’s door and stepped into the vehicle. The other man stayed with the girl, savoring the moment.

That was the last anyone would ever hear or see of Rachel Trent.

CHAPTER TWO

Present time

Lucas Wainwright sat in a wooden chair staring at the empty desk in front of him. The room was typical of a supervisor’s office; a few plaques on the wall and a mahogany desk shined to a high luster with 5 X 7 wooden frames showing smiling faces. Lucas had been called into his boss’s office not long ago and now sat waiting. He didn’t know why his boss wanted to speak with him, which made him very anxious. He hadn’t done anything wrong and wasn’t up for a promotion, after all, he’d only been on the job for a little over six months—the third company he’d worked for in the past year and a half. When he’d first hired on as a stockbroker he was swamped with work, then work had started to slow down dramatically.

From behind him, he heard his boss enter the room then watched him walk slowly to his desk and lowered himself into the overstuffed leather chair. He did not look pleased, which caused Lucas’s heart to flutter and his pulse to race. An empty coolness spread over him like a shroud and he felt light-headed. He waited in silence as his boss moved some papers around his desk as if trying to avoid the moment.

Finally the man spoke, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Lucas, but I’ve no choice here.

Lucas’s shoulders slumped and his heart started to gallop. This can’t be happening, not again.

His supervisor went on, You’re one of the best brokers I’ve seen in a while. He shifted his body in his seat, then moved more paper’s around. But I’m sure you’ve noticed the lessening workload.

Here it comes.

If it were up to me I’d keep you on, but, unfortunately, the higher-ups overruled me. So… I have to let you go. I’m sorry, Lucas. I really liked you and the excellent work you did.

Lucas Wainwright stared at the walls thinking: what the hell did I ever do to deserve this?

You’ll need to go to Human Resources to pick up your check and get information on your health insurance. He hesitated, If you ever need a reference, just call. The meeting ended.

Lucas, depressed and withdrawn, sat in his old Toyota Corolla, which only served to dampen his spirits even further. Eighteen months ago he’d owned a brand new BMW with all the extras. Now he drove a ten-year-old Toyota with over a hundred thousand miles, not a bad car, but certainly not a Beemer.

Moistness dampened his eyes as frustration overwhelmed him. He slammed his fists against the dashboard over and over again. How could a life so full of promise turn to ruin in only eighteen short months? Not long ago, he and his pregnant wife owned a beautiful five-bedroom, twenty-five-hundred-square-foot home in the hills overlooking a large lake. Then everything went to hell. They now live in a cramped apartment in the city of Grapevine, less than half the size of their former home. Their membership to an exclusive club with a golf course, tennis courts, and a dizzying array of workout equipment had expired long ago.

He started the car, put it in gear, drove out of downtown Fort Worth, and headed toward Interstate 35. He hopped on the interstate and drove a little under the speed limit, unconsciously delaying the inevitable. His wife, Ella, seven months pregnant, would be devastated. Ella, with a degree in Journalism, had worked for a local newspaper though her dream had always been to work as a reporter for the local CBS affiliate. But she’d put those plans on hold when she became pregnant. He took the off ramp and drove along the surface streets toward their apartment.

By the time he pulled into his designated parking space, he felt like someone had rolled him in aluminum foil and stuck him in an oven. The air-conditioner in the old Toyota barely worked, which affected Ella to a high degree, especially now that she was with child.

What in the hell am I going to say? he voiced. On the way home he’d rehearsed how he would break the bad news to his wife. He thought he had his speech down pat, but now as he sat roasting in the car his mind drew a blank. He sucked in a deep lungful of the hot, humid air, exited the Corolla, and marched toward the apartment.

He unlocked the front door and stepped into the cool living room. Ah! Man, that feels good, he said softly.

Is that you, hon? Ella asked from upstairs. What brings you home so early? It’s only three o’clock.

I’ll be up in a second, was all he could muster. He walked over to the refrigerator, pulled out a chilled MGD—his favorite brew—and swallowed half the beer in a few quick gulps. His eyes drifted toward a small wooden table just inside the living room. Atop it sat a number of letters. He knew they were from bill collectors threatening to cancel this or shut-off that. They were almost caught up, but now he just didn’t know what would happen. He started up the steps as a cloud of darkness enveloped him. He could hear his wife humming a familiar lullaby.

When he reached the top of the stairway he looked left into their bedroom then right into the nursery. Ella sat in a white wicker rocking chair next to the crib with her hands gently rubbing the swell of her enlarged belly. Their dog, a two-year-old male collie, Fritz, rested his head on her lap. She turned toward Lucas with a glow that heartened his soul. Then she noticed the look on his face. Their eyes locked and the glow that shined in her wondrous blue eyes a second ago vanished. He tilted his head toward the floor, unable to maintain eye contact. I’m sorry, baby.

Your job? she asked haltingly, the edge of her eyes brimming with tears.

He could only nod his head, ashamed of himself for letting her down. He lowered himself to the floor against the crib and could barely contain the flood of tears that threatened to burst forth. Fritz, sensing something terribly wrong, walked over to Lucas and licked his face.

Ella rose from the chair, walked over to her husband, and helped him to his feet. Then she asked in a sullen voice, What about health insurance? Are we still covered?

A slight smile crossed Lucas’ lips. Yes, we’re covered. The company will pay the insurance premiums for three more months then we’ll need to go on COBRA, which will last for another eighteen months though the payments will increase dramatically. Lucas drew in a deep breath and added, I’ll start looking for another job tomorrow.

His wife leaned her body against his, and they embraced.

I’m sure you’ll find another job quickly. I have faith in you, she said hopefully.

Yeah, I’m sure I will, Lucas said evenly but didn’t believe a word of it.

Let’s go downstairs. I’ll prepare dinner for us, said Lucas. Once his wife had become pregnant he’d insisted on doing all the cooking, which Ella didn’t mind a bit. They walked down the steps with Fritz racing ahead of them. Surprisingly, the dog stayed away from Ella’s feet somehow sensing he might cause her harm if he got too close to her.

The eat-in kitchen stood next to the living room. The wall between the two rooms, only four foot tall, allowed for easy conversation. Lucas pulled out a plastic container of homemade spaghetti sauce, put it in a pot to simmer and then added water to another pot for the pasta. He grabbed another MGD.

Ella added softly, Do you think Wes can give us another loan? Wes Slacker was Lucas’ best friend since kindergarten. Wes managed an import/export business just outside of Fort Worth and by all accounts earned a very hefty salary. Wes had offered him a job more than once since Lucas’ career started sliding downward, but Lucas, wanting to do things on his own, had rejected the offer each time.

He answered his wife, I’m sure he will. I hate to do it, but I really won’t have much of a choice unless I find another job soon. He took another pull from his beer and stirred the sauce. He went on, If nothing turns up on the job front, I just might accept Wes’ standing job offer.

Ella smiled. He’s a very good friend.

Lucas echoed, Yes, he is a very, very good friend.

Lucas awoke in the middle of the night and glanced at the bedside clock. It read three-thirty. His eyes traveled to the spot where his wife slept. The space lay empty with the covers pushed off to the side. He pulled himself out of bed and shoved his feet into his slippers. He walked toward the nursery, then stopped suddenly. The sounds of the wife’s sobs drifted out of the room. The sounds of the crying tore his heart apart. She’d always been a positive, optimistic, glass half full kind of girl. Now, because of his inability to hang onto a job, she sat crying in the middle of the night. He wanted to comfort her but couldn’t find the words to relieve her pain, so, with a sorrowful heart, headed back to the bed. He lay there staring at the ceiling until he finally fell into a fitful sleep.

The nightmare returned as it always did during times of stress. Lucas, five years old, sat in his room scanning through one of his favorite Marvel comic books. His parents had just returned home from an evening out. His father had paid the babysitter and offered her a ride home, which she gladly accepted. She didn’t live far away but didn’t like to walk home alone in the middle of the night. His father had departed ten minutes ago.

Suddenly Lucas heard the sound of breaking glass downstairs. The voices of two men yelling reached his room. A second later he heard his mother pounding up the stairs.

She burst into his room. Lucas, hide in the closet, hurry, hurry! she said in a whispered voice. Bewildered and afraid, Lucas ran into the closet and tucked himself back in the corner. No matter what happens, Lucas, stay in there until your father gets home, she said with terror in her voice. His mother closed the closet doors just before the men burst into the room. Lucas cracked the closet door open an inch or so and watched. Both men wore stockings over their heads. Give us all your jewelry and cash, bitch!

"Okay, Okay, please don’t hurt me. The jewelry and cash are in my bedroom," she pleaded, then led them down the hallway and into the master bedroom.

Lucas could hear their voices clearly from his room.

Two minutes later, one of the men screamed, Is this all you have? You can’t be fuckin’ serious!

His mother choked out, That’s it. We struggle from week to week trying to pay the bills.

An angry voice barked, Then I guess we’ll have to take it out of you, pretty lady.

Lucas could hear his mother’s screams as the men tore the clothes from her body.

He shook so intensely his teeth chattered. He couldn’t wait any longer. His mother was in trouble and she needed his help, no matter what she’d told him. Lucas pushed open the door of the closet and started to run, but in his dream, his feet would not budge. They felt like they were anchored in cement. He could hear his mother’s screams as the strangers beat on her. He wasn’t afraid anymore. He just wanted to help his mom no matter what happened to him. He tried even harder to move his feet, but the invisible force would not release him. He screamed in horror at his inability to come to her rescue. Then… a mortifying darkness surrounded him and the overwhelming nightmare shattered into a thousand jagged shards and faded into oblivion.

Lucas’s eyes flew open, his pajamas covered in sweat. Ella’s pretty blue eyes stared down at her husband, her concern evident in her face. Are you alright, hon? You were screaming.

CHAPTER THREE

The next three weeks dragged by slowly. Lucas had spent countless hours in front of his computer canvassing all the job sites and applying for a wide variety of positions, which discouraged him to no end. He knew that dozens if not hundreds of other men and women were applying for the same positions. He’d loved the stockbroker business and his clients loved him, but those jobs were hard to come by now. He’d even tried taking the proactive approach by going to a few businesses in person to apply for a position, maybe talk to the Human Resources manager. He thought that by showing some initiative he’d have a better chance of being chosen for a position. But the response was the same everywhere he went: We only accept applications via the internet.

…

Ella leaned against the doorjamb watching her husband hammering away on the keyboard, applying for yet another job. She’d watched him slowly sink into an ever-deepening depression. He hadn’t spent much time with his friends lately though they did text frequently. She knew he felt embarrassed about being jobless and everything that entailed. He did, however, spend time with Wes, his best friend, who’d given them a loan to help make it through another month or two. The two had spent endless hours together.

She walked over to the computer and laid her hand on his shoulder. How’s it going, sweetheart? she asked with concern in her voice.

He remained silent for a long moment, then said, Same as always. He stared at the screen with his hands folded together.

She took a deep breath. I just talked to Wes and he agreed with me that we need to do something to help raise our spirits.

Like what? he asked, not showing much enthusiasm.

Well, Wes suggested a cookout at his place this weekend. He said he’d foot the bill for the food and beer. What do you say? I think we could both use the break.

Lucas pursed his lips, turned around, and looked into his wife’s bright blue eyes. At first he was hesitant; Wes had done so much for them up to this point that he hated to ask for more. But the hopeful look on his wife’s face convinced him to accept his best friend’s offer. Alright, let’s do it. Let me finish up this last application and I’ll prepare us some dinner.

Okay, but first I need a hug, Ella said with a warm smile.

Lucas rose from his chair and they hugged. For the remainder of the day Lucas’ mood lightened and he seemed more like his old self.

…

As a show of solidarity, all of Lucas’ closest friends showed up for the get-together. Classic rock played softly in the background. The water from the swimming pool shimmered like a beckoning oasis. Wes had mowed his lawn earlier that morning and the grass felt like plush carpeting. Even the weather cooperated; a brilliant sun shone in a cloudless blue sky. Normally this time of year, in the middle of summer, the temperature climbed to over a hundred degrees, but today was in the low nineties. Of course, the humidity was always a bitch and today was no exception to that.

Wes Slacker, who stood 6-2 and one hundred eighty pounds with deep blue eyes, stood over the hot Weber flipping burgers for the guys, and, of course, chicken breasts for Ella and her best friend, Missy. Perspiration beaded across Wes’ tanned forehead as he pushed aside his long black hair. Lucas stood next to him with a beer in hand watching the burgers sizzle. A large blue cooler overflowed with beer, ice, and cans of soda, or as they say on the East Coast, pop. Everyone loved Ella’s potato salad and coleslaw so she’d decided to make a bowl of each for the cookout. Baked beans simmered in a pot next to the burgers.

Reese Delmano, a private investigator, sat in a chaise lounge next to the pool taking in the warmth of the day. His wife, Missy, and their two pre-school daughters sat around the pool with their feet dangling in the cool water.

Ella sat next to Missy. The two ladies chatted away about everything under the sun.

Hey, Reese, don’t you think it’s a good time to take a dip? Lucas asked cheerfully.

Reese responded, I’ll go in as soon as Eldon does, that is if he can let go of his computer for a minute.

Everyone laughed.

Eldon Burke, the youngest of them all, at twenty-four years of age, looked up from the screen and said, What? Everyone laughed again. Eldon, at 5-6 and one hundred thirty-five pounds with curly brown hair, was an anomaly within Lucas’ circle of friends. He loved computers and technical ‘stuff’. Lucas had met him on the job a few years back when his office computer started acting up. Eldon was the ‘tech guy’ and in no time flat had Lucas’ computer running like a finely tuned engine. The two had become fast friends.

Come in the water, Eldon, chimed in John Samson, another of Lucas’ good friends.

I came to eat, not swim, Sniper, said Eldon, using Samson’s nickname,