Never Whistle in The House II: Never Whistle in The House, #2

By Jerrimiah Stonecastle

In 1925 Faustus Sala fell in love. In 1944 he murdered his entire family except for one child who was taken to safety. In 1964 she inherits the family's fortune, the Collinwood Estate, and the curse. After turning the home into a country club, people start dying horribly when they fail to obey one simple rule. Never whistle inside the house!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jerrimiah Stonecastle
• Release date: Dec 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393287568

Jerrimiah Stonecastle

Jerrimiah Stonecastle was born and raised in the South Bronx, New York to a single parent. His mom is a retired New York City educator who always pushed him to reach for excellence in all that he did. In 2002 he retired from New York City civil service and relocated to North Florida. There he started his writing career with a trilogy series called UC 630 Cop or Criminal:The Crack Wars. In 2016 he formed his own Indie publishing company Stonecastle Publications whose slogan is "Throwing Stones At A Glass House". He now has published 4 books and is currently working on his 5th which is due to be released in January 2018.

Book preview

Never Whistle

in

The House II

––––––––

Jerrimiah Stonecastle

Stonecastle Publications LLC

P.O. Box 880576

Boca Raton, Fl 33488-0576

USA

[phone]

Copyright © 2020 Jerrimiah Stonecastle

All rights reserved.

ISBN:

ISBN-13: 9798557184977

DEDICATION

To all those who were loved

and

betrayed.

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CONTENTS

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Joanna Penn, your YouTube videos were so informative and inspiring for me. I discovered the ups and downs of this career through your experiences.

Bob Proctor’s speeches changed the way

I viewed my world as a writer and businessman.

My friend and Editor, Ms. Elaine McCarthy.

Special shout out to

Julie Broad

Of Book Launchers

Your inspirational videos were valuable to me.

Be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.

1 Peter 5:8

Headstone clipart black and white, Headstone black and white Transparent FREE for download on WebStockReview 2020

1 collinwood

Halloween 1944

––––––––

D

aniel awakens to find himself being lifted out of bed and carried into the darkened hallway by his father, Faustus Sala. There is a rumble of thunder in the distance that startles the child.

Did you kill the monster, Father?

Yes, I did, Daniel, Faustus said, tying the child’s hands behind his back and placing a noose around his neck. Now, I must kill the monster’s child.

What are you doing, Father?

Faustus pricked one of Daniel’s fingers with a nail and then used it to write a message on a piece of paper. Daniel was screaming so hard that his face was turning bright red. What he saw next raised his scream an octave higher.

No, Father...don’t...

Faustus nailed the note to Daniel’s forehead. A line of blood squirted across his face. He picked up the boy’s convulsing body and tossed it over the railing. The sound of Daniel’s neck snapping was followed by a thunder strike that lit up the foyer below. For a second, Faustus thought he saw the figure of Ursula standing outside the window.

You were right, Mama. Forgive me.

Faustus placed his head through a second noose and hurled his body over the railing as well. His neck snapped at the moment a second lightning strike occurred, illuminating a shadowy figure standing below. Its eyes glowed as it looked up at the two swinging bodies. Suddenly there was a loud howl, and the front door blew open. When the moonlight hit the mysterious figure, it disappeared.

20 Years Later

The Law Office of Petran and Petrovich was tastefully decorated for Halloween. Grigore Petran, the firm's owner and longtime attorney, started the tradition when his largest client’s daughter was born. That client was Faustus Sala, and the child, who sat on the other side of his desk, was Elizabeth Ursula Sala.

The last time Grigore saw Elizabeth, she was being cradled in the arms of Faustus’ maid at her Christening. That maid, Ruby Brown, was sitting next to her, still being the protective mother hen. Grigore, now in his early eighties, recalled how distant and cold the child’s mother, Darla Sala was to the infant. If not for Ruby’s skin tone, you would’ve assumed that she was Elizabeth’s mother.

The second man in the room was Marcus Petrovich, the 59-year-old vice president of the firm where Faustus had worked before his death and the Law firm’s current partner. He had never met Elizabeth before today, but now he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Elizabeth was wearing a short blue skirt that ended a couple of inches above her knees. When she sat down and crossed her legs, more than half of her thighs were exposed. Standing 5-feet 8-inches tall, Elizabeth had a lot of legs to show.

Elizabeth wore a matching blue jacket that failed to hide her well-endowed breasts. When she unbuttoned it to sit down, the pair of globes threatened to pop the last button holding her white blouse closed. She inherited her mother’s full lips and hypnotic, emerald green eyes. Her black hair was pulled back from her face and over her ears. It was tied into a single braid, which ended at the small of her back, and completed the look of a lion’s tail.

I want to thank you all for coming to the reading of Faustus Sala’s last will and testament.

Grigore had been living in America since he was seven years old, but his Romanian accent was so strong, people thought he was naturalized recently.

Elizabeth, I want you to meet Marcus Petrovich. He was your father’s business partner at Smirnov Investments.

Please, to meet you, Ms. Sala, said Marcus, taking her hand and kissing it.

When he did, Marcus got a clear view of her ample cleavage. Her perfume caused an increased blood flow to the member in his pants.

Pleased to meet you, Mr. Petrovich, and please call me Elizabeth.

And you can call me, Marcus.

Ahem, wouldn’t Uncle Marcus be more appropriate?

Elizabeth twisted in her seat to see who the woman was that made the sarcastic remark.

Oh, where are my manners?

Yes, where are they?

Elizabeth, this is Ms. Sasha Romanov. She is the CEO at Smirnov and is personally in charge of your father’s portfolio.

Please, to meet you, Ms. Romanov.

Please, Elizabeth, since we’re all being so cordial, you can call me Sasha.

Shouldn’t it be Aunt Sasha? Elizabeth quipped. And please, call me Ms. Sala.

Elizabeth picked up immediately on Sasha’s jealousy and took offense to her Uncle Marcus remark. Elizabeth, however, couldn’t blame her. She noticed the handsome Russian the minute he walked in the room.

Marcus’ body appeared to be chiseled into the tailored made suit he was wearing. And despite his stated age, Elizabeth thought he was no older than 40. When he kissed her hand, she felt a flush of heat rise up her pussy. She struggled to resist the urge to reach up and push his head down between her thighs.

As you wish, Ms. Sala.

Well, now that the pleasantries are over, let me continue with the reading. I, Faustus Sala, being of sound mind and body, do hereby order that my family’s attorney, Grigore Petran, act as the executor of my estate and all that it holds until my only daughter, Elizabeth Ursula Sala, turns 21 on October 31, 1964. A trust has been established to provide for the child’s care and well being as she is cared for by her maid, Ruby Brown. If anything should happen to her parents, Ruby Brown is to be paid a fair wage and provided housing at the estate’s expense if she should not choose to remain on the property.

Well, I guess we won’t be needing Ruby’s services anymore, Mr. Grigore.

I believe that’s for Elizabeth to decide, Sasha.

You’re correct, Marcus, Grigore concurred. I was going to say that Ruby is to be paid a pension equal to forty-percent of her current pay at the time that Elizabeth reaches her 21st birthday, provided that she is in good health and has not been neglected or mistreated. Have you ever been neglected or mistreated?

Never a day in my life, Mr. Petran. Ruby’s been more of a mother to me than my own Aunt Maureen.

Excuse me, suh. What if I want to keep taking care of Ms. Elizabeth after she turns 21. Can I still do that?

Of course, you can, Ruby. If she wants to keep you employed.

Of course, I do, Ruby. And you’re going to get a raise. Go on, Mr. Petran.

Thank you. I further request that my business partner and friend, Marcus Petrovich, be retained as a financial advisor for Elizabeth. If at any time he feels the best interests of her wealth are not being served at Smirnov Investments, he has my blessing to advise her of such and her options.

Marcus, do you have any reason to believe my father’s assets are being mishandled?

Not in the least, Elizabeth. I’ve known Sasha for a long time, and she’s very competent in handling her father’s company and your father’s assets.

And I can trust that you will tell me immediately if she ever fails to meet your expectations?

Of course, Elizabeth.

What about the house, Mr. Petran? Why have I been restricted from going there for years?

It was your father’s wish that you don’t enter the premises until after your 21st birthday and the reading of the will. I don’t know why he wanted that, but he did. Of course, you own Collinwood and can go there anytime you want.

Will you go with me, Marcus?

If you like, Elizabeth.

I hear it is a sprawling estate. How much money will it take to maintain a property like that?

Money is the one thing you won’t have to worry about, Ms. Sala, Sasha said. Here is the breakdown of your financial portfolio. You’ll also see the appraisal for the estate should you choose to sell the property.

Elizabeth examined the documents that Sasha had handed her.

Why would I want to sell the home I was born in, Sasha?

Why? I assumed you wouldn’t want to stay in the house after...

Ahem, Ms. Romanov, I think we should let Marcus fill her in about the house, Grigore said.

Fill me in about what, Mr. Petran?

Ruby placed her hand on Elizabeth’s knee before standing up and walking over to the window. She stared out the window and gazed across the Hudson River. In the distance, she could just barely make out the balcony of the east wing of The Collinwood.

It’s not for Mr. Marcus to tell you, Lizzy, Ruby said. It’s for someone that was present to tell you. It’s for me to do.

Elizabeth listened while Ruby recalled how much her father worshiped her mother. She described how Faustus loved Darla and rescued her from poverty and a life of prostitution. Ruby told how he took in her alcoholic grandmother and six aunts and uncle. Then she recalled the nightly betrayal and how she was sworn to secrecy when she discovered her mother’s infidelity.

Faustus was away on a business trip. His grandmother was out shopping. Ruby was in Darla’s room, cleaning the bathroom, when she heard her coming up the stairs. She listened to the man’s voice and knew it wasn’t Mr. Sala. She closed the bathroom door slightly and stood frozen in fear.

She could see the gardener pawing at Darla’s breasts as he stood behind her. He was shirtless, and his belt was unbuckled. Then she saw Darla drop to her knees and remove his swollen cock from his pants. The gardener grabbed the bag of his head and began pumping her face.

Suddenly, the soap that she was holding slipped and hit the tub. She quickly grabbed it and resumed cleaning the tub. Darla burst into the bathroom as the gardener ran down the stairs.

You little spying black bitch, Darla said.

Your mother slapped me so hard I saw stars. I was afraid I was about to pass out. But I forced myself to stay awake because I believe if I passed out, she would’ve killed me. She said she’d kill me if I didn’t keep the secret about her and Mister Dale. So I did. I knew Mr. Faustus would find out one day, but it wasn’t gonna be from me. But Lord, how I prayed that he wouldn’t. Your father was a good man and didn’t deserve her.

So, how did my father find out, Ruby?

Well, Miss Darla and Mister Dale had a secret whistle. He would do like a little bird whistle to let her know he was outside. Then, if she could get away, she would whistle back to him. After a few minutes, I would see her run out. I remember your brother Daniel complaining to your mother about a whistling monster in his dream.