The Death of Deception

By Abigail Starr

Evangeline Alarie returns to Gwynedd, a place she joyfully now calls home. Expecting to renew friendships and romantic interests, as well as continue to raise some of the fastest race horses in England, she arrives home instead to find that murder has once again struck her little paradise.

Never one to turn down a mystery, Evangeline looks to team up with the handsome Inspector Bixby as the investigation draws them into depths unknown. Deceit and trickery run deep as someone tries to subdue their efforts. Their inquires may draw them closer to answers, but their strong personalities and pride could be the undoing of the forceful pair.

Will they be able to push through the deception to find truth? Can they put aside their own feelings and prejudices as they hunt for the killer? Or will all their hopes for the future and finding the guilty come undone before time runs out for another victim? Join them and find out on this exciting new journey of The Death of Deception!

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Feb 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9781664290334

Abigail Starr

Abigail Starr returns in an exciting new sequel to her incredible debut, The Death of Revenge. She invites readers to once again join her on an adventure in mystery, intrigue, and romance in this faith-based novel. Growing up embroiled in the world of Agatha Christie, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and the Bible, her passion for writing and expressing her imagination with others is well depicted in every story. Embark on this exciting sequel, The Death of Deception and solve the mystery with Evangeline and Luther!

Book preview

Copyright © 2023 Abigail Starr.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by

any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system

without the written permission of the author except in the case of

brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents,

organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are

models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version.

ISBN: 978-1-6642-9032-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-9034-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-9033-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023901688

WestBow Press rev. date: 02/15/2023

DEDICATION

To the readers of my first book, and all the ones that

asked for the second one.

Thank you.

CONTENTS

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1 Return of Adventure

Chapter 2 Strange Encounters

Chapter 3 A Reunion of Two

Chapter 4 Thus, It Begins

Chapter 5 Old Friends & New Annoyances

Chapter 6 A New Arrival

Chapter 7 Revealing Clue

Chapter 8 Darkness in Turn

Chapter 9 A Time for Peace

Chapter 10 Festival Confusion

Chapter 11 A Most Surprising Day

Chapter 12 The Beginning of the Light

Chapter 13 Manipulation at its Finest

Chapter 14 Scattered Pieces

Chapter 15 Conversations, Bad & Good

Chapter 16 Dinner or Interrogation?

Chapter 17 Sad Revelations

Chapter 18 The Deception Unveiled

Chapter 19 Happy Ending

Epilogue

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

God, for without Him, none of this would have come to be!

Thad Conley, for the amazing cover!

Stephanie Lamm, for the many hours of editing!

Members of First Baptist Church, the guinea pigs!

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ONE

RETURN OF

ADVENTURE

His head was pounding as if a drum in a rhythmic dance was playing through his mind, yet not an enjoyable one. His eyes refused to open. He wondered if he was standing up or lying down. He could feel a hard surface beneath his hands and, assuming gravity was still a factor, he concluded he was lying on the ground.

As he felt around, trying to determine his whereabouts, he groaned, willing his eyes to open and take in his surroundings. Slowly his vision started changing from blurry to a dim haze as the fog started to clear.

He extended his hands, patting the surfaces around him, hoping to find something to pull himself up with. His fingers brushed against something solid. As he reached out to retain a stronger grip on it, he realized the object was solid, yet spongy. His grip tightened to pull the object toward him so he could roll onto his knees. As he pulled, the item felt strangely cold and weighted, and it half slipped, half dropped from his grip.

He was startled, yet he once again reached for the object, willing his eyes to see clearer. When his fingers touched the ice-cold surface once more, his vision suddenly returned. Fear and panic began settling in as Frederick stared in terror at the limp form of a young girl just inches from him.

Her blond hair was tangled and matted about her young face and her dress was torn to shreds. Her feet were bare, no shoes or stockings. But most disturbing were her eyes, which were open and facing him, wide and terrified! Bile began to rise within his throat.

The girl before him was most definitely dead, Frederick realized. And he had just woke up lying right beside her.

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Evangeline was utterly giddy with anticipation as the train rattled noisily down the tracks toward their destination. If she were a child, she would be bouncing up and down in her seat. She looked out the window at the passing scenery. The beautiful green fields were spread out like a soft blanket with trees dotting the landscape and the occasional cottage popping out here and there.

She suddenly remembered her last journey along this line, and her heart gave a tug. She reminisced for a moment about that first journey when she had had a traveling companion. Evangeline looked at the empty seat before her and could clearly remember Roman sitting there watching her with worry and trepidations mounting about their path ahead.

That first journey had been one of planning, scheming, and revenge. Thankfully, this one was much changed in both perspective and attitude.

Yet if only she could have Roman traveling with her once again. Roman Alexyev had been her most devoted companion. His duties had ranged from being a bodyguard to being caretaker of all her needs and business dealings. Years before, she had saved him from a life in the clutches of the Peaky Blinders gang. He had been a loyal friend and confidant since then.

It was still difficult to believe that only just a few months ago he had been murdered by Evangeline’s overly loyal lawyer, Edward Carfax.

Edward had been under the mistaken assumption that Roman was the initiator of Evangeline’s quest for revenge. In a demented effort to protect her, Edward had not only gone to the extremes of poisoning Evangeline’s prized horses, causing the death of her mare Aphrodite, but he had ultimately poisoned Roman too.

Evangeline had been devastated by the losses, almost to the point of returning to London with Edward. Yet it was the cunning investigation orchestrated by Inspector Bixby that had brought the truth to light and Roman and Aphrodite’s murderer to justice.

Luther, she murmured quietly to herself.

She could not resist smiling when she thought of the dear charming inspector. He was a rare species of man who seemed almost unaffected by Evangeline’s charms as a woman. Yet there had been times when Evangeline realized she did affect him in some ways.

Luther had not had it easy solving this case. He had even accused Evangeline herself to be Roman’s murderer, which she had been greatly hurt by. But truth had reigned supreme, and he had been able to piece the puzzle together and solve the case, with a little help from Evangeline, of course.

Evangeline sighed and glanced out the window once more. Her eyes were darker in the morning light, almost black instead of their usual onyx appearance. Long raven-black hair was pinned neatly underneath her black miniature bowler hat. She smoothed out her emerald-green traveling dress and nervously adjusted her gloves again.

Two nights prior, Evangeline had finally determined that she would return to Gwynedd. Evangeline had written to the Bayards, her devoted housekeepers at her home of Belleville Manor, that she would be returning. To everyone else, her sudden arrival would be a most wonderful surprise, she hoped.

She wondered if Luther, or Inspector Bixby, would be anxiously awaiting her return. She had mentioned in her previous letter that it would be near a week’s time, yet she had not mentioned specific timing.

It was all rather sudden, but her business dealings in London had expertly been handled. A new lawyer had been contracted and had been brought up to speed on many of her smaller ventures. At present, she would remain in charge of her larger ones until the man proved his worth and the season had wrapped up nicely at her racetracks.

There would be a few smaller races to end out the summer, but the larger derbies and handicaps had ended for the season. Evangeline had relocated her prize racehorses, Spartan and the up-and-coming Prince Dupont, to Belleville for rest.

Upon her return, she might have a mare or two ready to breed but for the most part, the staff she had procured at Belleville had most expertly taken care of all the breeding. She would happily be greeting some thirty new foals come next summer, God willing!

Evangeline heard the whistle blow as the train began its deceleration into the station. She prayed that Javier would not be welcomed as roughly as he had last time. Just in case, she would make haste to the cargo cars that her three horses and stable hand were traveling in.

Javier was her head stable hand and now a champion race jockey. It had been near three years now, that Javier had been beside her. Once again, she had pulled him off the street, an urchin who had no family and had been caught stealing food for another poor beggar. She had given him the opportunity to become something more, and he had risen to the occasion. Javier too was most loyal. Evangeline could not have made it the last few months in London without him.

Evangeline looked back on those months with great annoyance. The records Edward had left behind had been poorly kept. It was not as if he had lost her any money or been dipping his own hand into the pot. The poor man had simply been suffering from an overlooked case of dementia that had quickly caused him the loss of his sanity.

Without Roman’s assistance, she had struggled with many of the decisions while in London. She had difficulty with the balancing act of maintaining a reputation as a high-society woman and a business owner. Luckily, she remained successful in her efforts to maintain her racing empire, but with success also came a hint of danger. She would need to find another man to take Roman’s place as a bodyguard.

Yet the matter of trust was a difficult issue, and the very thought of someone trying to take Roman’s place was revolting.

She put these thoughts from her mind as the train slowed into the Gwynedd station and she prepared her carry-on bags. She hoped that Mr. Bayard had received her correspondence and that the carriage and travel cart for the horses would be ready and waiting for her arrival.

The train stopped with a jolt, causing her to fall back into her seat where she growled in frustration.

It would appear that good Mr. Havisham has yet to improve his railroad.

Christian Havisham was one of the faces from her past who was coincidentally married to Angelic Raven, daughter of Lord and Lady Raven. The man was an incompetent oaf who despised his wife and the very village he lived in. But as duty would have it, he remained to take partnership in the railroad with his father.

She righted herself and made her way into the hall passage and hurried to the nearest exit. The horses would be anxious to emerge from the train, and she knew her horse Michal would be ready to stretch his legs.

Michal was a five-year-old rare red-and-black Friesian stallion whom had been Evangeline’s personal mount. He was one of her most prized animals, and wherever she went, he went with her.

Emerging onto the station platform, she was surrounded by steam from the engine, but the gathering fog from the wet hills was mounting to make it far thicker.

Glancing into the sky, she could see that the beautiful sunshine that had followed her most of her journey would not be making an appearance in Gwynedd today. Dark clouds gathered, threatening the gloom of rain and the air was heavy with its weight. Sighing, she made her way along the empty platform toward the cargo compartments.

A nice-looking young man tipped his cap to her.

Morning, madam. She smiled brightly at him and nodded as he went to open the cargo compartments.

Excitedly she looked in and saw her three horses ready with anticipation to exit their own traveling container. Javier’s head popped up from inside Spartan’s section, and the young Portuguese lad smiled brightly at her.

Ready to be home, madam? he asked her, and for once, Evangeline felt as if she was truly returning home.

Indeed, Javier. Come and let us all return home.

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Luther stared down at the body, taking in the surroundings of the scene. A young girl was sprawled out on the ground before him. Her eyes opened in terror, her mouth in the shape of a silent scream that would never escape.

There was a large gash near the front left of her head. Blond hair was scattered about her, and her soft blue summer dress was torn and tattered on her small frame. She wore no stockings or shoes. No jewelry or handbag were present, which could make robbery a motive.

From the look upon the young woman’s face, her last few minutes in this world had been filled with unfathomable horror. Luther placed her about eighteen or so. It truly sickened him to see a mere child in such a state. He reached for his crucifix beneath his collar and prayed over the poor child and her soul, may it rest in peace with God.

He did not recognize her but perhaps his young sergeant, Alwin Smithy, could. Luther heard retching behind him, and with an aggravated sigh, turned to see young Smithy losing the contents of his breakfast in the bushes. Luther returned his gaze to the large stately home that stood before him.

Raven Hall belonged to the noble heritage of Lord and Lady Raven. The estate was one of the oldest in the village of Gwynedd, dating nearly two hundred years. It had seen far better days. The once polished stones of the architecture, were now devastated by time. Lack of care had left the windows blackened and grimed. Vines grew wildly about as if a gardener was unheard of.

The body had been discarded practically upon their front doorstep. Interesting, he thought, as he glanced down the drive. Relief filled him to see the coming carriages bringing the village doctor and his other constables. Smithy had proven on a second occasion that dead bodies were not his cup of tea.

Luther removed his hat, running a hand roughly through his curly brown hair. It was growing rather long. He should get it trimmed before someone returned...

Luther removed his hand from his hair, silently chiding himself for the moment of distraction. He turned when the carriages pulled up and the doctor hurriedly exited.

Morning inspector, Doctor McCloud greeted him curtly. Luther managed a nod of his head as the good doctor went to work inspecting the body.

Turning to the constables, Luther began the list of duties. Search the surrounding areas. See if you can find any shoes the victim might have worn or a handbag or other belongings. It was a chilly evening, perhaps a coat. Also, keep your eyes opened for any footprints or disturbances on the ground. Set a wide berth of search.

The five bobbies nodded their heads and hurried away to begin their searches.

Smithy walked up beside Luther, looking greener than the grass currently was. Excuse me sir, shall I join the lads? he asked, beckoning in the direction of the other constables.

No Smithy. Luther smiled at the young man and nodded in the direction of the house. You get the tremendous pleasure of joining me in speaking to the Raven household. Luther held back a laugh when the constable’s face turned even greener.

The inspector walked back over to the doctor who was carefully examining the arms of the young girl. Do you recognize her doctor? Luther knelt down beside him, and glanced at the girl’s face again. The doctor gave a grim shake of his head.

Can’t say that I do. Possibly a tourist here with the upcoming festival.

How long do you believe she’s been dead?

Ten to twelve hours from the looks of her. I would roughly suggest the wound on the head is the cause of death, but I’m afraid that I’ll have to do an autopsy before I can be certain. Luther nodded and glanced around at the ground.

While the texture of the cobble stone was rather rough cut, the girl’s feet had not a scratch upon them. Her hands showed no signs of a struggle, forcing him to wonder if perhaps she had not fought off her attacker. Then again, she was a small woman, not hardly one and twenty pounds if he were to guess. He filed the thoughts away as he turned back to the doctor.

She’s just a child, the doctor said, a hint of emotion in his voice. Luther’s face was grim as he clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder.

Let me know as soon as you learn anything. The doctor nodded, and glanced back at the carriage where two men in white uniforms waited to assist him. They would see to the body.

Luther left them and continued to look at the ground around the crime scene, hoping to see anything of a clue. Something caught his eye as he knelt down. A silver cufflink. It looked as if it had been stepped on and bent slightly, but it appeared to Luther to resemble a horseshoe. He slipped it into his pocket and continued his search, finding nothing else of value.

Smithy walked up to him, looking more like himself with color returning and his uniform straightened out. Are you ready to see the Raven’s, sir?

Luther positively dreaded the very idea but there was no way around it. With a disgruntled sigh and a prayer for patience, he gave a nod, and the two of them headed for the front entrance.

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TWO

STRANGE

ENCOUNTERS

As the carriage bounced along, Evangeline looked out the window, happy to be back in the comfort of her surroundings. The town looked as if nothing had changed. Well, perhaps untrue as it had changed only in the notion of having been spruced up for some celebration forthcoming!

Some clues about this celebration had been addressed in the letters she had received from Lady Atchley, her closest friend in Gwynedd. Lady Atchley had mentioned the village was preparing for the Summer Festival. In her words it was, The last joyous party held in the quaint little village before the beginning of the seasonal transition to fall. Evangeline was humored