Be True To Yourself

By Trey Claybrooke

Hidden beneath the peaceful cover of Charlotte, lies a killer's deadly desires, Detective Donovan Harris is about to confront a darkness that transcends the boundaries of the rational. What begins as a routine murder investigation takes a nightmarish turn, plunging Donovan into a race against time as a cryptic killer sends a chilling message through each gruesome crime, sometimes hidden within the identity of victim themselves.

As the body count rises, Donovan's grip on reality falters. The world around him fractures like a splintering glass, and the cracks spread, threatening to shatter his sanity. Desperate to cling to his tenuous connection to reality, Donovan finds an unexpected ally in Elise—a haunting voice from his past, guiding him through the labyrinth of madness.

In his quest for truth, Donovan grapples not only with the enigmatic killer but also with the unraveling threads of his own life. The stakes escalate as he races against the inexorable ticking of the clock, torn between the love of his wife, Jessie, and the elusive specter of killer that stays one step ahead of the seasoned law enforcement officer.

As the boundaries between reality and nightmare blur, Donovan must confront the demons within and decipher the cryptic message before it's too late. Will he unravel the twisted truth, or will he succumb to the darkness that threatens to consume him? "Be True To Yourself" is a psychological thriller that will keep you on the edge, questioning the very nature of reality.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trey Claybrooke
• Release date: Apr 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224765157

Trey Claybrooke

Trey Claybrooke hails from the heart of North Carolina, where he spent his formative years exploring the vibrant landscapes of the Piedmont area. An alumnus of High Point University, his academic journey laid the foundation for a rich tapestry of experiences that have significantly shaped his worldview. Now calling Charlotte home, Trey has embarked on a literary venture, turning to writing as a means to open a new chapter in his life. Through his work, he seeks to share the myriad experiences and aspirations that have colored his journey, inviting readers to explore the depth and nuance of his personal narrative.

Book preview

Prologue

The bountiful lands of South Carolina have established it as a prime location for agriculture, becoming a cornerstone in the lives of its proud citizens. In the tradition of farming communities, the legacy of agriculture in South Carolina has been handed down through generations, as exemplified by the Harris family of Lumber County. The fourth generation of this resolute family was Sam Harris and his wife, Elenor. Sam, having toiled in the fields since his youth, hails from a large family, one of whom, an older brother named Ted, owned the largest cattle ranch in Lumber County. In times of hardship, the Harris family came together, embodying the resilient spirit of farming communities.

Elenor, too, came from a sizable family, a common trait among farming households. After the birth of their only son, Donovan, Elenor faced health challenges, sadly ending any hope of having any more children of her own. This set back was not stopping the Harris’s but led the couple to choose fostering and eventual adoption to expand their family. Their blended family, with Donovan at its heart, grew up amidst the richness of farm life, surrounded by a diverse group of siblings.

It was still early in the morning on July 5th, 1959. Every Sunday, Sam would take time off from the farm to spend with his family. The Harris farm was over 45 acres and had several ponds.  The largest pond was in the northwest section of the property, and it had the best fishing.  Elenor had the three smaller children with her. Wilt, an 8-month-old boy as well as Sarah and Shiela twin girls. The two oldest boys were back at the barn. Jasper and Ed were doing maintenance on the old tractor. It took months of begging their dad to get permission.  Elenor chose the ideal spot and spread a large blanket out beneath a large oak tree. Reliably it had the best shade.  Donnie, Allan, and Dale were down by the shoreline. All three of the barefooted boys were dressed in cutoff jeans.  Allen’s arms and chest were pink from the sun.  He was not a fan of the outdoors, despite Sam always urging him. Donnie loved the summer and being outside. His skin is a rich tan color.  Dale was very much an outdoor kid. He was the only boy wearing a shirt. He was the latest foster child to join the Harris household.  Young Dale was one of 14 kids.  This young Black boy had endured a lot in his six and half years of his life. Since coming to Gable, he became a part of the Harris family. Dale missed his mother and one sister, but the remainder of his biologic family had too many issues.  He was happy to be free of the drama. These three boys have become remarkably close. They were brothers in every sense of the word.

Much of their summer was spent in the pond or at the creek. Sam was sitting on the rocks as he watched the boys playing in the water.  Sam was the disciplinarian of the family. That was his role, just as his father had been so many years ago. As much as he hated to spoil the family day, he had to talk with Donnie. Elenor shared a letter the teacher sent home from the school. Though he did not know the specifics of what happened, Sam wanted to let it slide, after all, boys will be boys. Unfortunately, his wife was adamant about getting to the bottom of the issue. He knew that Elenor was watching from the trees.

Donovan! Sam finally called out with reluctance, setting the fishing pole to his side.

Yessir, the little boy answered and quickly ran up the hill. Donnie held the waist of his shorts to keep them from falling.

Son.  Is there anything you need to tell me? His father asked sternly as he smoothed out Donnie’s wild hair.

Uh... the young boy hesitated with fear. I...

Donovan. You can tell me, Sam Harris urged his son.

I...I kinda got inna fight at school... Donnie answered hanging his head in shame. In a whisper, he follows up with, Sorry daddy...

I know son, Mrs. O’Henry sent a letter to your mom, Sam Harris began. I thought I taught you to never fight, son.  Am I right?

Donnie was nervous. He quietly answered, No, sir. You taught me to never start a fight...

Donovan, you know what I meant, His father said crossly.

Donnie nodded and added, I do, but that isn’t what you said, daddy. Never start a fight, but if there was a good reason...

Sam Harris stopped and thought for a minute. His son was correct in his recollection. Sam was intrigued. Donnie stood there in front of him.  He could tell his son was scared but the younger Harris did not back down.

OK, son. I will bite. What was your reason? Sam sighed and folded his arms.

Donnie looked up at his father, his eyes squinted in the morning sun, his voice was trembling, Aldin Gantry...he has been teasin’ Allan. It was all day. I tried many times; I told Allan to be a man and walk away...

Sam tensed up his eyebrows, That sounds like a smart idea, Donnie.

Yes, sir. They keep callin’ Allan a girl. Makin’ fun of how he talks.  Both Aldin and his cousin, George. I guess Dale had enough and stood up for Allan or maybe they was pickin’ on him, too. That I don’t know... Donnie spoke softly.

Patiently, Sam asked, Did you tell the teacher?

Mr. Bryon was there; he’d been watchin’ over the class at recess. I could hear him snicker when the boys taunted Allen. He not only laughed but joined in when the Gentry’s called Dale a... Donnie paused, he could not even say the word. Uh...you know that word, daddy. It made me made angry that they were hurtin’ my family...

Sam was listening and shifted on the hard rock. He was intrigued by the details his son related to him, How long was this goin’ on?

Aldin was doin’ it all day, Donnie was getting confident. Then others joined in at recess. About twenty minutes or so...I don’t know.

Where was Mrs. O’Henry?

Donnie shrugged his little shoulders, still squinting from the bright sunlight, Allan started cryin’, I couldn’t let those bigots get away with hate! I love my brothers...and if that means I get a whoppin’ sir, then so be it!

Donnie folded his arms in defiance. The young boy felt good to get that off his chest.  Earlier, Dale and Allan had moved closer to see what was going on. For several minutes, they stood nearby and listened. Allen was smiling. No one had cared about him until he came here. Daddy Sam and Mama Harris never once made him feel like an outsider. Dale put his fists on his hips.

Daddy Sam, sir, Dale spoke out.  If Donnie gets a whoppin’, then I should gets one, too!  Donnie had courage to stand up to those older boys when I didn’t!

Daddy, Allan interrupted and spoke with a soft voice. Let me take the punishment for Donnie.  It was all my fault any ways. I told Aldin he looked cute in his new overalls...

Sir, that ain’t no reason to be mean to Allan, Donnie offered, moving between his father and his two brothers.

Yeah! Allan and Dale agreed.

Sam was busting with pride. Not only had his son stood up for what was right, his brothers remained loyal. In that instant, Sam Harris decided that he wasn’t going to punish the boys. Elenor can just yell at him if she was upset.

It sounds like you did what I taught ya, son, Sam smiled. He motions for his three sons to give him a hug. Who’s ready to catch some fish for dinner?

Finally having a resolution to the letter, Sam and his boys kept fishing until noon.  They eventually took a break and joined Elenor. Sam quietly explained what had transpired that morning with Donnie, Dale and Allen. Sam was pleased to find that his wife supported what he did. They made a good team.

It was close to supper time.  Sam’s mother, Elise Harris, was sitting in her favorite rocking chair on the large wrap around porch. The farmhouse had been her home since she married Theodore when she was just sixteen. Her late husband had passed ten years ago from a leg injury that was not treated properly. Sam and Ted ran the farm together for many years.

Elise was working on another knitting project, this time with young Allen’s help.  It was to be a new decoration for the kitchen when they finished it. She had even chosen the perfect place for it, just above the archway into the family room. Elise loved Allen dearly, he always helped in the kitchen. The matriarch of the Harris family did not play favorites. She treated all the kids that Sam and Elenor cared for as her grandchildren.  Elise could see that it was slowly beginning to rain.  She loved the summer rains in South Carolina, she would sit on the porch and listen as the rain drops landed on the tin roof of the barn. However, there would not be a natural melody today. This was just a light drizzle, but it was steady.  Young Donnie came running over to the porch. He was breathing heavy from running up from the garden. His brown hair was wet from the rain. The water beads ran down his tan back. He climbed to the top of the stairs near Allen and his grandmother.

Donnie shifted into sitting cross-legged and quietly sat, Did you hear what daddy said?

With a demanding look, Elise smiled, I heard you trying very hard.

Embarrassed, Donnie looked at her, I know, I know. You said I shouldn’t try that hard...

There is a reason I told you that, Elise explained. It is dangerous to overexert your abilities...

Over what, grams? Donnie yawned as he watched her.

Exert? Well, Donnie. When someone exerts themselves, they are putting forth physical or mental energy to accomplish a task or overcome a challenge, Elise answered, she turned to Allen and smiled.

Donnie giggled, I like challenges, grams.

Allan wondered what Donnie found amusing. If he wasn’t helping their grandma with the knitting, this silence would have driven him nuts.  Allan often wondered why Donnie never seemed to talk to their grandmother much, even though they appeared so close to each other.

What’s so funny, Donnie? Allan asked with his usual inflection.

Nuthin’ Allan. I just like seein’ my family together, that’s all, Donnie said after clearing his throat. Y’all make me happy.

Me too, Donnie. I’m glad you are my big brother and protector! Allan said loudly with pride.

I believe our Donnie will grow up to protect everybody, right Allan? Elise said clearly for her grandson.

Yes, ma’am, Allan agreed with glee. He’s the best!

Allan never hears me. How come no one else can exert like we do? Donnie’s question flowed through Elise’s consciousness.

Remember Donnie, I explained it to you before, Elise was telling him in his mind. This gift only happens every other generation, sometimes longer. It is an incredible ability. But we must be careful.

Careful? Donnie thought.

Yes, careful.  I admire you try to test your limits, but you were very far away... His grandmother smiled and did not speak. I could barely hear your thoughts.

We were at the large pond, grams... Donnie said in his mind while a broad smile grew on his face.

Oh my, Donnie, that is too far. My grandfather was the one that taught me how to communicate with my mind, just as he was taught by an elderly aunt. He warned me not to try to send my thoughts over a great distances or time, Donnie heard her voice in his mind. You need to respect what you have and follow the rules.

I thought I was...sorry, grams, Donnie focused his mind.

OK, just don’t do it again. Dreadful things could happen... Elise said in her thoughts.

Chapter one

Concord, North Carolina . Located in the southwest portion of the state.  It was the fall in the year of 1987. The leaves were changing early this year.  There was a slight briskness in the air. As if winter was sneaking in on the tail of October weather. The skies were a dull haze of gray. The wind was coming in small gusts from the west. The sun was barely peeking through the clouds.  It was a dreary day.

It was just after eleven AM on this cold Thursday morning. November twelfth was shaping up to be just another day. There was extraordinarily little traffic on the roads around Concord’s Eastpoint Business Park. A magnificent real estate location, it was a 45-acre development built five years ago.  Even with the influx of population in the greater Mecklenburg County area, there was only a 55% occupancy of the available businesses.  The economic growth of Charlotte was impacting the neighboring cities. There were multiple distribution hubs housed in the two immense warehouses in the western corner of the park. They were two of the largest employers in Concord. The offices along the frontage of the property were home to dozens of lawyers and accountants. There were several therapists in the smaller business condominium units.  The biggest office condominium housed the offices of Doctor Thomas Weaver, a child psychologist and behavioral specialist.  Although he was still young at 27 years old, he was a New York Times bestselling author and board member on multiple charities. Doctor Weaver was the highest profile tenant. Though, in the recent months, he was rarely in his office.

To the northern edge of the business park, behind the office condominium units was the Southern Carolina Eye Clinic, or SCEC. Located on Grayson Parkway, it was the crown jewel of the prestigious business park. Operated by Elliott Kilmeade, an ophthalmologic surgeon from Boston. The clinic opened for business in the spring of 1983 and enjoyed several years of growth.  The main building was renovated with two new operating theaters last summer.  The nursing program from the University of North Carolina-Charlotte worked closely with Dr. Kilmeade so the students could have their Clinical Studies here.  Many graduates were employed by SCEC.  It was a mutually beneficial arrangement for everyone. The last UNCC student to be hired by Doctor Kilmeade was Barbara Hastings.

The fulltime nurses shared a small office. Barbara was excited, it had been three months since she was awarded permanent employment status. The nurses had a ritual of giving the new hires their own desk space after the 90 day-probation period.

Hey, girl, Kelli remarked as she came in the room. Today is your big day, huh?

Barbara laughed, Who would have guessed getting your own desk space could mean so much?

You earned it, Barb! Kelli responded with a friendly hug. Doctor Kilmeade has always made a point of helping those that help themselves.  He admires the hard work you put into getting your degree...

I owe the doctor a lot... Barbara admitted as she organized her new desk.

Kelli nodded, His admiration for you goes deep. Not just for finishing your education but being a single mom.

I know, he constantly reminds me of his childhood and how his mother inspired him, Barbara added. He went from being a child of a poor single mother to one of the region’s most accomplished surgeons. His mentoring has inspired me.

Well, I will never be as good as he is, but working for Doctor Kilmeade has given me a lot. See ya tonight at the bar? Kelli grabbed her wallet from her purse in the bottom desk drawer. I need to go see the colonel about a chicken.

Barbara laughed hard, Fried chicken will kill you someday!

Kelli just laughed and headed out the door. Barbara focused her attention back on her carry bag. She removed an 8X10 picture of her daughters. She loved them so dearly. Beaming with pride, Barbara smiled as she placed the picture on her new desk. She pulled an apple out of her carry bag and takes a large bite.

An apple? You think givin' me a piece of fruit is gonna keep me at bay, huh? Doctor Kilmeade gave a hearty laugh as he entered the office.

Stop it, don't be silly, Barbara laughed. I treat my body like a temple.

The doctor holds his hands up in surrender, Hey there, Barb! Top of the mornin' to ya. How are the kiddos, Jasmine, and Michelle, doin' today?

They are doing great, sir, Barbara replied, smiling at the photograph.

Doctor Kilmeade looked at the photo. He could tell how much she loved her children. He had a swelling sense of pride knowing he has helped Barbara Hastings. He genuinely cared for everyone that he employed.

He smiled, Alright, today marks the three-month milestone. Thrilled to officially welcome you to the squad as a full-time player.

Thank you, sir. All the girls are planning a celebration after work, at the new place by the interstate, She nodded with gratitude.

Elliot Kilmeade answered pleasantly, his Boston accent on full display, I know it kicks off at five, but I gotta be fashionably late. Had a little somethin' I needed to run by ya before the shindig.

Of course, doctor.  I am thrilled that you will be coming to join us.  What can I do for you? Barbara asked.

The doctor got serious for a moment, Hey, are you still pulling double duty with Dr. Weaver, or what?

Uh, yes sir. Just a few nights a week, but ... Barbara hesitated.

Go on, He smiled.

It’s just that Doctor Weaver was recently retained by the SBI as a consultant.  He will be spending more time in Raleigh now, She had a hint of disappointment in her voice.

Kilmeade perked up, Ah, this is wicked good timing. Typically, I toss in a bonus and a bump in the paycheck when bringin' someone new onboard. I didn't wanna be swipin' you from Thomas, but it seems like destiny's sortin' things out for our team.

Barbara laughed with the doctor. She was at a loss for words. It was by chance when she met him at the campus orientation three years ago, a meeting she felt was a blessing. Elliot Kilmeade headed out of the office. Barbara grabbed her duffle bag; it was time to get ready.

The buildings had a deep red brick facia, and all the windows exhibited a mirrored tint. Even the condominium units had this impersonal appearance.  In front of each building was an elaborate assortment of hedges, shrubs, flowers, and trees. The intended design to be a balanced arrangement that was astatically pleasing. The landscaping was extensive. Trees and bushes near the buildings were maintained weekly to keep the clean and pristine look to the business park. The leaves were beginning to cover portions of the parking lots. There was a team of landscapers busily going about gathering up the colorful leaves this morning. Barbara Hastings exited the side door of the clinic. She rarely ate lunch. She was running late after the talk with Doctor Kilmeade. She would spend her lunch hour jogging around the outer perimeter.  Barbara had an athletic build and was in exceptionally good shape for a thirty-two-year-old mother of two. She took pride in her appearance.  She often encouraged her coworkers to eat better and exercise.  However, no one was up to joining her for a run on this cold November day. But it was not the first time that Barbara went running alone. She enjoyed the open air and the listening to her music. Sometimes she would find someone along the way.

Barbara arranged the wires and put the headphones over her ears. She started the cassette in her Walkman. As she listened to her favorite songs of the seventies, she spent several minutes doing stretches near the SCEC employee picnic tables. Barbara regarded running very seriously. She considered herself fortunate to have a great body and worked very hard to live a healthy life for her girls.  With the music blocking the outside noises, she looked around. She watched the burly men clad in their orange jumpsuits as they quickly worked. Determined to do their job, they chased the leaves about the parking lot.  Barbara visualized an impromptu dance performance that only she can see and hear. Barbara smiled and laughed. She thought if only those men knew she was imagining them in dance.  She felt embarrassed, but it was not like she had spoken with any of the men before. They were strangers.

She shivered as the wind gusts. She hoped that the gray running suit will be sufficient to keep her warm for the run. She dismissed any concerns. Once she was running, it would not matter. She had been running in more severe weather in the past. Today would be a piece of cake, she thought.

Barbara finished her stretches and slowly jogged over to the pathway. She stopped and looked around. She could only see the one landscape crew nearby. She thought, something is off. Normally, there were dozens of people wandering about this time of the day. She dismissed the feeling and brushed off the concern.

Has to be the cold weather, Barbara said aloud and added. Everyone must be inside for the day...

Barbara started running at a steady pace. She concentrated on her breathing. She quietly sang along with one of the songs. At the next turn was the beginning of the building that housed several HVAC companies.  There were three located to the east of the clinic.  Usually, Barbara will meet up with the secretary from one of the businesses, Hilda Schmidt of Charlotte HVAC Professionals.  They would frequently run the pathway together. Hilda, formally from Germany, had a perfect body. The proud German woman had no reservations showing it off. She immigrated to the United States in 1982. Hilda was incredibly smart. She had short blond hair with long bangs. She was tall for a woman, almost six feet. Barbara had long suspected that Hilda was a lesbian. The blonde German woman would flirt with Barbara all the time, but Hilda had never asked her out.  Barbara would not be interested anyway.  After one useless husband, Barbara Hastings had sworn off having another relationship.  At least until her daughters were much older. Barbara did not see Hilda outside this morning. She kept up her pace and was almost past the building when she heard someone call out. Barbara removed the Walkman headphones.

Hey Barb! Wait up, I’m coming, liebe. Hilda yelled out as she ran across the grass.

OK! A relieved Barbara Hastings called out, thankful for the company.

Hey, liebe, I must apologize. I will only be able to run one lap today, Hilda explained as she approached. The office is shorthanded...