Silence

By Yvonne Tillapaugh

Evie Royce's beloved grandmother, Enid, expends her last fragile ounce of energy disclosing a shocking family secret before she breathes her last breath. Anna Marie, her father's cousin, disappeared decades earlier during a family holiday. Evie's father and Anna Marie's brother both claim to have seen the girl get into a man's car and drive away. Enid suspected a more sinister end to her nine-year-old niece but has kept silent all these years. Evie investigates and enlists the help of handsome detective, Jim Miller, to reopen the cold case and help her solve the mystery.

When a woman knocks on Evie's door claiming to be the long-lost Anna Marie, Evie's theory is turned upside down. When her father and the mystery woman disappear together, Evie finds herself engaged in a dangerous race to save her family. She comes face to face with a disturbed killer, and can only pray that Detective Miller can find her in time to rescue her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: OK sisters
• Release date: Sep 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215195345

Yvonne Tillapaugh

Yvonne Tillapaugh is a mother of four, and grandmother of 8. Her and her late husband were long time residents of Denver, Colorado, where they founded Denver Street School, a private Christian high school for troubled youth, and a national ministry, Street School Network, to help individuals in other cities start similar programs.   Yvonne was a licensed Practical Nurse for 25 years, both in Oklahoma and in Colorado. She received her BA from Metropolitan State College of Denver and has taught music, drama, art, sewing, and science. She directed the Passion Play of Denver for ten years, and that remains one of the most impactful experiences in her life. She worked in retail also, managing fabric departments at both JoAnn Fabric and Hobby Lobby. She currently lives in Oklahoma, and enjoys reading, gardening, quilting, and writing.

Book preview

1

ANTOINE STROLLED DOWN the tree-lined street, listening to the laughter of children as the scent of magnolia wafted on the breeze. To his right, three kids, one girl, about seven with curly brown hair, and two boys, about six and ten, ran in circles around a small dog. The dog yipped and yapped comically, and the children giggled with delight at the poor mutt's confusion. Antoine paused and watched them, a crooked smile playing on his thin lips. He shook his head and walked on.

Small dogs weren't dangerous, but they were noisy. Besides, three kids at a time could be very tricky to pull off. He had to keep looking. He stayed ahead of the law by his cunning and control. He would not let laziness do him in. After all, there were no children in jail, and that just wouldn't be fun at all.

On his left, across the street, a young boy leaned against the fence, watching the trio he had just passed. He caught his eye and the child smiled a little. Antoine gave him a little wave. Eight or nine, Antoine judged, with blue eyes and straight, sandy blond hair. This one would do just fine. Antoine walked up the block and turned the corner, heading back to his blue van. He circled around and pulled up next to the yard where the boy still stood staring across the street.

Looking around, Antoine noticed very few cars parked along the street. He studied the house where his target lived. Movement in an upstairs room told him that Mom was not close to the front door. He waited, watching the windows for any sign of vigilance. When none appeared, he opened his door and eased out. The kids across the street had gone inside, and the boy kicked a soccer ball around the lawn behind his low picket fence. Perfect timing.

He waited at the back of his van until the child moved closer to the fence. He opened the back door of the van a crack, then he made his move. Darting out, he scooped up the surprised child and clamped a hand over his mouth. With lightning quickness, he pushed the door open with his foot and tossed the boy in the back. In less than three seconds, he was back in the driver's seat and around the corner while the frightened boy wailed in his padded cell. Three-inch foam prevented bruising on the merchandise and kept the sound from reaching any ears but his own.

Antoine smiled, pleased with his morning's work. He had perused dozens of neighborhoods that morning, rejecting them for one reason or another. He knew that his system worked. Twenty years in the business, and he had never even come close to being caught.

The one sexual assault case against him had been a fluke. He had been dating a woman - certifiably crazy by any standard - and when he dumped her, she filed charges against him. The judge saw through her flimsy evidence and threw the case out. He had never been investigated, and his secret operation had stayed just that - secret.

He glanced at his watch. Ten fifteen. He decided to wrap it up here in Cincinnati and head back to Oklahoma. He could drop this merchandise off in Missouri, collect his ten thousand dollars, and be home in bed by the next evening. Maybe he would even reward himself with a little recreational child-napping on the way. There were dozens of small rural towns in Arkansas he had never tapped before. He grunted in anticipation.

Focus, Antoine. One thing at a time. You get greedy, you get caught. He felt his excitement ease, and he focused on the road ahead of him.  The boy in the back was screaming for his mother, and the noise was music to his ears. Scream on, little boy. Your momma can't hear you, and she will never see you again. He laughed, and grabbed an apple from his knapsack. He let the juice drip over his chin as he bit into it. Finishing the apple down to the core, he opened his window, threw it out onto the grassy median, and wiped his chin on his shirt sleeve.

Later that afternoon, he drove through a McDonald's and bought the kid a hamburger and coke. He pulled under a car wash and pushed the food through a small window in the wire cage he had custom built into his van. The screaming had stopped, and he could tell the boy had grabbed the drink. Good. He needed to deliver a healthy child. What his customer did from there was his own business.

In the front passenger side, the seat had been removed, and he kept a few buckets of paint with a sprayer, a roll of painter’s trim tape, and several license plates. He also had a collection of magnetic signs he could attach to the sides of the van to camouflage his operation, just in case someone had seen him in the neighborhood, and gave police a description.

He could repaint the van in less than an hour. He had always been very careful, and his lengthy career attested to his success. As he reflected back, he felt a swell of pride. Not many men in his business had the discipline to stay ahead of the law. He didn't feel the need to be discovered and see his name in the paper. Fame didn’t interest him in the least. It was far more important to him to stay free to do what he wanted. Right now, he felt as if he could go on for another twenty years.

Just after he crossed into Missouri, he noticed a tree lined drive and pulled over. Antoine grabbed a couple of magnetic signs and slapped one on each side, and his plain blue cargo van became a Royal Flush Plumbing service vehicle in less than five seconds. Then he walked around to the back and switched the license plates to Missouri plates. Plumbers usually operated locally. He had a few hundred miles to go before he could get rid of the kid, at which point he would change the color of the van and put new plates on.

HE MUNCHED ON HIS HAMBURGER casually while the mile markers sped by. Checking the map, he figured that he’d arrive at his first destination well after dark, making his delivery a matter of placing the merchandise in a box and carrying it to the front door of his customer's house. A small dose of ether would guarantee the child wouldn’t move or make a sound during the transfer.

He sent an email from his phone during a stop at a rest area, letting the customer know his estimated time of arrival. Within minutes he saw the reply. The man didn't want home delivery. He wanted Antoine to leave the box in a nearby park, then pick up the cash from a trash can two blocks away. Antoine grunted. This clown was a first timer.

Antoine texted back. Sorry, no public drops. Cash is expected on delivery. If you fail to answer the door, the merchandise will be delivered elsewhere.

Several minutes later, the man conceded, asking Antoine to come to the side door rather than the front door. Antoine tossed the phone on the dashboard with a curse. This bozo has a lot to learn. Activity that looked suspicious was much more likely to be reported than if you acted as if you had nothing to hide. He would go to the front door, and if the customer was too nervous to answer, he’d just do exactly as he threatened. He knew at least five men who’d clamor for the merchandise he carried.

Several hours later, he headed down through Arkansas with a fat purse and an empty van.

2

THERE IT WAS - THE book Evie Royce had searched for in three other stores already. The Sunday school class she attended at Victory Christian Center had been studying from it for several weeks, and she had yet to read it. She crossed the twenty feet to the bright orange paperback, her flowing skirt swirling around her legs. With five steps to go, a hand came from nowhere and plucked it from the shelf.

No! she screamed in her head, as she stopped short and pretended to look at a different book. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the woman try to read the back cover while a redheaded terror danced around her legs, pulling books off the lower shelf. Why would anyone bring a small child to a bookstore? Especially one as ill-mannered as this one seemed to be. Well, obviously the woman had not taken child-rearing classes. Her son - or was it a girl? It was hard to tell from the gender-neutral clothing. Anyway, it was obvious to Evie that the child was a bona-fide brat.

Three times Evie thought she was going to put the book back and try to control her child. Three times, she resumed her perusal of the book. When the woman finally did walk away, Evie couldn't tell if she had left the book on the floor with the others scattered there, or if she had taken it with her. The orange spine had not been replaced on the shelf, at any rate.

She set the book she held back on the shelf where she found it and hurried over to the pile of books on the floor. She knelt down and picked them up one by one. The book had been taken. Evie sat flat on the floor in frustration.

JIM MILLER STOOD A couple feet away and watched the brown-haired girl with the heart shaped face. What originally caught his interest was how she picked up a book on men's midlife crisis and held it up by her face, never once looking at the title, reading the back cover, or opening it up. Her intense green eyes were focused on another woman with a noisy child.

At first, he thought she was interested in the woman or the child, but the minute they left, she rushed over and began rummaging through the books on the floor. She obviously did not find the book, because she threw up her hands and plopped down on the floor with the books scattered around her. Jim held his broad hand in front of his face to hide his amused grin.

She had fully captured his attention now, sitting with her legs sticking out under that crinkled hippie skirt. Thin wisps of hair framed her face, making her look like a little pixie.  Her eyebrows went up in the center in a forlorn puppy look that made him want to rush over and pat her on the head. He could not keep himself from wondering what book she longed for so intently. If he could be the hero and present her with the prize she so earnestly sought, then perhaps she would agree to sit across from him in a restaurant where he could gaze into those enchanting green eyes and search their depths.

Glancing around the store, he saw the woman with the red-haired kid at the checkout counter, so he quickly walked up behind her and looked at the book she had placed on the counter.

The Soul Winner Within: Learn to verbalize your faith without fear.

Reaching in front of the woman, he put a finger on the book and smiled at the cashier. Excuse me, miss, but can you tell me whether or not you have any more copies of that book? Jim smiled at the clerk. I know someone who really wants a copy.

The mother turned and looked at him, and her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He turned on the charm. I just love red-headed kids. They are so adorable. How old is your child?

She's three, she replied. The woman crossed her arms, putting her weight on one leg in a posture that screamed, don't mess with me.

Jim was thankful he had not committed to a gender. He had guessed wrong. Well, she is certainly a handful, I can see. What a bundle of energy.

I believe this is our last copy. The woman at the register studied the screen.  We won't get another shipment in until a week from Thursday.

Oh, that's a shame. That’ll be too late. Jim almost cringed at his lie. Inwardly he reasoned that it would be too late for him to be the knight in shining armor, coming to the rescue of the green-eyed damsel in distress. He turned to the woman. I'm so sorry to trouble you like that for nothing. He smiled broadly, calling on every ounce of charm he could muster.

The lady looked up at him and blushed under his direct gaze.  Her posture changed and her expression softened. I don't really need this right away. I can wait for the shipment to come in.

Really? Are you sure? It would really mean a lot to my friend. Jim took out his wallet and turned to the clerk. Would you ring that one up for me before this lovely woman changes her mind? And please allow me to pay for her book from that shipment in two weeks.

Clutching the prize behind his back like a bouquet of flowers, he found the young woman who had captured his attention in the devotional section, and tapped her shoulder. Excuse me, Miss, but a woman at the register decided you needed this book more than she did right now. He smiled at his clever phrasing that contained the truth without being overly specific.

Green eyes widened in surprise. He was close enough to see the small flecks of gold and blue in them, like a beautiful meadow filled with wild flowers. He could see himself getting completely lost in that meadow. Oh boy, Jimmy. You could get into real trouble here. He held the book out to her, and felt a shiver run up his arm when her hand brushed his.

EVIE LOOKED UP INTO big brown eyes framed by thick dark lashes and her breath caught in her chest. Where had this beautiful angel in the blue button-up shirt and khaki Dockers come from? She realized her mouth was hanging open and she snapped it shut and swallowed. She felt her knees go rubbery, and willed herself not to hyperventilate. The socially expected custom was for her to respond verbally in some manner, so she swallowed and opened her mouth again.

I, uh... who... Um, thank you. I mean, I would like to tell her thank you. Who...? Evie looked around, trying to spot anyone she might know from church.

His broad shoulders shrugged. She just left. The book is already paid for, by the way. The receipt is right inside the front cover.

Evie opened the cover, and sure enough, the receipt, dated and timed, showed that the book had just been purchased moments earlier. She hugged the book to her chest and grinned. I guess there really are angels unaware.

The man with the amazing eyes smiled down at her, revealing perfect white teeth in a ruggedly handsome face.  Evie's chest suddenly flooded with butterflies, all batting their wings furiously. He winked at her, and she turned around and ran.

WAIT! HE CALLED OUT, wanting to ask her name, hoping she understood that he was the angel she referred to. Not that he was angelic, of course. He felt a little guilty. After all, his motivation had not been altruistic. He simply wanted to meet her, and maybe ingratiate himself somewhat.

Jim watched her, trying to decide if he should try to catch her and ask her name, but the girl who barely reached his chin proved surprisingly fleet. By the time he got to the door she had already gotten in one of the cars in the parking lot. Three cars were pulling out of their spaces, and he couldn’t tell which car the enchanting pixie had gotten in. He stood there for several minutes, feeling a little cheated out of his reward.

Oh well, Lord. I guess that one is just a tiny jewel in my crown and not a possible date for dinner. Jim sighed.

3

A BULLETIN CAME ACROSS Jim's computer screen as he was filling out a report from the investigation he and his partner had just put to rest.

Another missing child. This one from Sand Springs. Ten-year-old female. That makes two this year already. Jim turned to look at Julie, who had her phone to her ear.

She hung up and turned around. That was Fogelmayer. Baxter was just sentenced to eight years for that rape. It's about time.

Yeah. Makes you proud to be part of the justice system. We arrested him, what – two... almost three years ago? Jim flashed a smile that lit up the tight space between the cubicles.  I'm sorry. It's really hard not to get cynical in this job.

You, cynical? Come on, Miller. You are the most positive optimist I have ever known. Not to mention religious. Julie shoved his chair, and Jim nearly flipped over.

Hey, watch the chair. I've asked for a new one several times, but I don't think I'm going to get one in the next twenty-five years before I retire. 

Julie laughed. Yeah. They'll roll it in the day after you're going away party. And I call dibs on it!

Jim turned back to his paperwork, smiling.  And you can have it then, with my blessing. Under his breath, he muttered, But I'm not religious. I'm a Christian. There's a difference.

The computer tower hummed and clicked under the desk, while Jim researched female child abductions in the Tulsa area for the last five years. Hey, Jules, what was the name of the Detective that Krepp took over from? The one who died?

Washington? Worthington? I think it starts with W.

Oh yeah, Wellington.

Yeah, that's it. Why? You working on something? Julie wheeled her chair over and peered at his screen.

Jim scooted his chair over so she could see. I know we have better methods and DNA and everything, but that guy must have been from the dark ages. I've been pulling up other child abduction cases in Oklahoma, and I don't see one closed case in the thirty years he worked here. Krepp has closed sixteen in the last ten years. And I see where Wellington interviewed the family members, but he didn't do much of anything else.

Julie leaned forward, looking at Jim's screen. I see what you mean.

Jim stared at the screen for a moment. I know there’s a whole cyber division now that works on this, but I just wish we could find all the online catalogues for perv's, where they can order their favorite kind of child. And then the kidnappers go out and find the kid, and deliver it to the customer.

Yeah. That makes me want to throw up. Julie turned away.

"We know they’re there, but we just don’t know where they all are. There’s gotta be hundreds of them. Somehow the psychopaths know where to find them, and they can shop from the comfort of