THE LOST SON OF SAM LETTERS

Uncle Bill

They were waiting in the foyer for me. Cameras. Chocolates. Cookies. I signed several copies of my books, gave a few copies away that I had brought, talked a while about my career, and sat down. My previous experience with Tim's wife convinced me that they, too, wanted money—that the chocolates and photo ops were a precursor to the inevitable.

As I would come to find out later, they had all met at the house hours before my arrival to discuss a few "things." Turns out Bill invited me to his house to size me up, check me out, make sure I was responsible enough to leave with the momentous information I was about to be given. One person there that day later told me, "I remember being very eager as we drove up to [the house that day]. Neither one of us chatted too much on the ride up as it seemed we were both deep in our own thoughts. Once we arrived, we went right into the house to go through Gary [Evans's] things and determine what could and could not be exposed. There are many possessions and secrets that are held dear to Uncle Bill." Uncle Bill was the man my serial killer had gone to grammar school with; but, as I soon found out, had also remained friends with up until Evans's final arrest. Continuing, "We discussed how you may just be some guy out to tell a story and we were afraid you would tell only the bad stuff, not knowing any of the good things, or any of Gary's background."

Gary Evans

As I talked with them briefly after my entrance, I got a sense that they were your average, wholesome, good-natured people, one of whom was excited to meet me because of my work. I was flattered by that. They sincerely felt they had important information for me to include in my book about Gary Evans. They were proud to be part of it. I was overreacting.

Maybe this guy does have something?